“I don’t remember much about my mother leaving. My twin brother and I were only about two but I remember how it felt and imagine I must have cried. I thought she would be coming right back but my abuela told me she was going to the United States to make a better life for our family and that as soon as she could, we would be joining her. I waited three long years while she worked numerous jobs like babysitting, housecleaning and other odd jobs until she had saved enough money for plane tickets. I was just a toddler when she left. When I first saw her, I was a little scared. I knew she was my mom because my abuela said she was but I didn’t have a clear memory of her. I remember how excited she was to see us and how she had to coax me to her for a hug at the airport. She had to make up for three years of missed hugs and kisses and she only had six months to do it in. When the six months was up, we did not understand why we had to go. In the end, we simply couldn’t. We stayed although we knew it was forbidden. My mother just couldn’t let us go again and we couldn’t leave her either.”
Nicolas is a half-Colombian, half-German, undocumented Dreamer. At 22, he has lived longer here than in Colombia. He speaks English better than he speaks Spanish. He considers himself an American but knows that he is not because until recently, he could not get a Driver’s License (a teenage rite of passage) or a regular job because he lacked the proper documentation.
Due to President Obama’s executive order dubbed the Consideration of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, he applied for and received a Driver’s License, Social Security number and a work permit for which he must re-apply every two years. He is one of the lucky ones.
He is studying Political Science and Economics and dreams of being a policy analyst in public affairs so that he can help officials make better decisions to benefit all working families. This summer he is working as an intern for the United Auto Workers so he can save enough money to pay for his classes in the fall. When in school, he will work at FIU while going to school full-time. He is excited for his future but lives with the fear of being separated from his mother again.
“I am a student and I am a Floridian. I am also an undocumented immigrant. Congress needs to come together to create a common-sense roadmap to citizenship for people like me who aspire to be Americans. After all, it’s not what you look like or where you were born that makes you an American – it’s how you live your life and what you do that defines you here in this country.”