Sal M.

Harvard College, Class of 2009
History and French

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing this letter to explain the circumstances surrounding my application for a US Visa. I hope this letter will enlighten and answer any questions that might arise after reviewing the application.

First, I would like to establish that I am currently employed at [redacted], as an Account Strategist for the US Hispanics Direct Sales Operations Team. In order to successfully execute my job responsibilities, I need a US visa to attend required trainings, business meetings, and sales conferences in the United States.

After reading this letter, I hope that you will comprehend my life trajectory and how I have arrived to where I am today. I also hope to not be penalized or held accountable for my parent’s choices when I was a child since I had no control of my life at that point.

I was born in Jalisco, Mexico to a family of cattle traders and ranchers. I had a happy childhood with all the amenities and facilities that a child needed. One day, at the age of nine, I woke up to realize that my father was no longer staying at our house. My mother explained that he had gone away to work “al norte” and that he would be back in a year. As a child I did not realize what that meant, my father would call the house regularly and everything appeared fine. A year passed and my father did not come back, as days went by my mother became worried and I knew something life-changing was about to occur. One day, when I arrived home from school, at the end of the school year, my mother announced that we would be leaving to the US to meet with my father. I did not want to leave, but I had no choice. I was 10 years old, I knew it was going to be difficult to move to a completely different country where I had no “amigos” or “familia” and did not speak a word of “Ingles”. On a sunny morning in mid August we left our beloved town. We traveled all day and night and the next morning when I woke up I found myself in the US. We reunited with my father, my mother seemed much happier. I felt better although I missed “mis abuelitos, tios, primos and amigos” from back in Mexico. My father told me to stop crying and instead to “hecharle ganas”. We had come to the US to work hard for a better life that we could not have in Mexico.

Following my father’s advice and seeing that I had no other choice, I learned English in a little over a year. Immediately, my parents enrolled me in a bilingual program in a Chicago Public School and I started attending school and forming a new life. I started 5th grade in Chicago and worked very hard every day, little did I know what awaited me. In elementary school, I performed very well academically and I was accepted to one of the best high schools in Chicago. I really enjoyed going to school and learning new material, so I continued this throughout high school. When the time came to apply for college, I did my research and applied to 15 colleges, including Harvard, Yale, Princeton, among others. My counselors and teachers encouraged me to do so since they agreed I had an opportunity of gaining acceptance. I ranked 2 in a class of 1100 students. On a rainy day at the end of April, I received a fat, bulky envelope in the mail; I had been accepted to Harvard!

This moment was perhaps the happiest moment in my life. Getting into a good college was one of my goals, but I had never imagined I would get into Harvard. Harvard offered me a full scholarship and I could not let this opportunity pass. It was either attending Harvard or attending a community college, where I would have to work to pay for tuition, since I could not attend a state college due to my immigration status in the US. I chose to attend Harvard. Leaving my parents for a second time to go away for college was difficult but I knew I had to do it if I wanted to be “alguien en la vida”. While in college, I majored in History and French. These four years at Harvard were the best four years; my eyes opened to the world and this is where I made lifelong friendships. Once senior year arrived, classmates began to think about the next step in their lives, I knew I wanted to get a job, but I realized that I could not pursue this since I did not have a social security number. While my friends attended consulting and investment banking interviews, I researched and spoke to different people about what I could with my illegal status in the US. The answers were not hopeful, so after graduation I returned home to Chicago to plan my next move.

Seeing that I could not work in the US legally, I researched opportunities in Mexico and a few months later I found a position that fit my background and experience. I immediately applied and after three months I received a call from my recruiter offering me a position in the Mexico City Office. This was a bittersweet moment since I realized I was going to once again have to move and leave friends and people who I considered family behind. After almost 13 years of being in the US, coming to Mexico was going to be a huge change but I had to do it if I wanted to “ser alguien en la vida”.

In any regard, I really appreciate the time taken to read this letter. I hope that one day I will be able to return to the land that gave me so much, yet hindered me from giving back to it.