My name is Brian and I am Undocumented
The YLC will feature the story of undocumented youth as told by them. This is Brian's story
I never thought of myself as different from anyone else. When I came here, I never questioned what got me into the United States. After all I was just seven. I didn’t have a choice on whether to stay in Jamaica with my mother or go to America to live with a man I barely knew, my father. My mother sent me here to live a new, better, and successful life and that’s what I promised her I would do. I never knew keeping that promise would be so hard.
It was in middle school when I was well aware of my father's financial situation. This was why I didn’t tell my father when my shoes were worn out at the bottom, when my jeans were becoming highwaters, and why I never went to the movies with my friends. I was too embarrassed to hear my father tell me we were too broke to afford what I needed or wanted; if I didn’t ask for anything, I didn’t have to hear him say no. My father had trouble keeping a job and his hand disability made it even harder for him to get a job. I did not like seeing my father struggling or worrying how he's going to pay the bills.
I learned about my immigration situation during this time. This was the time when everyone around me was getting their working papers and applying for different jobs. My guidance counselor gave me a list of documents I needed to bring in, including a copy of my birth certificate and social security card. I placed it on my father's dresser where it remained untouched. When I finally asked him for those documents he got so angry. He yelled at me and asked me why I was being ungrateful. He implied that I didn't appreciate what I had. I translated what he said to mean I didn’t have those documents.He never told me why he got mad but now I understand the pain he must have felt knowing what a burden not having those documents would be on me. Ever since then speaking of my status in or out of the house was taboo. Even with this information I never stopped working hard in school, partly because I was young and didn’t know what it would mean for my future.
It was my junior year of high school and I was sick of feeling helpless. I wanted to take control of my life but at the same time I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me or think I was less than them due to my status. I thought if I spoke about my problems, someone might give me the answers. How wrong I was to believe that obtaining citizenship was going to be easy. I spoke to teachers, guidance counselors, and lawyers and they didn’t give me great options. Teachers that were supposed to be a source of knowledge didn't know anything about my situation. The people that were supposed to guide me through my high school ordeals didn't know what path I should take.
This year, I followed my peers' lead. I studied for the SATs, wrote college essays, and applied to as many colleges as I could; in the hopes that one of those colleges would give me a scholarship that would help me pay for the tuition. I have received acceptance letter into many of the colleges I applied to. Now I wonder how I will pay.
Throughout the years I have been told by teachers, family members, and friends that the future holds great things in store for me. I embrace this support, but I can’t help but to be a little pessimistic. “What do I have to look forward to?” is what I ask myself every morning when I prepare for school. Hopping for a better future for myself was what got me to school.
I’m an undocumented Jamaican immigrant that comes from a poor, unloving, and unsympathetic family, what chance do I have? I always believed that my desire to excel would help me to exceed my expectations. I expected more for myself in the future rather than depression and lost ambitions. Why shouldn’t I have that future I always wanted? I didn’t think I had anything after high school to look forward to. That was until I heard about the Dream Act.
I was researching ways of becoming a citizen. An attorney at a well-known organization, called The Door, sat with me in her office and looked at me with compassion. She was going through the eligibility of the Dream Act and a great smile rose across my face when I realized that I qualified. I went through the eligibility over and over in my head and still couldn’t believe it.
I wanted to get involved, to help myself get where I knew I deserved to be. So when I heard about an organization that fought for the Dream Act and allowed youth like myself to get active I joined. Now I call the NYSYLC office home.
My experience as an undocumented youth has taught me that hope is most necessary for us to achieve our dream. As I get ready to explore the next step in my life, I think about students that do qualify for federal aid and other undocumented students that don’t. I look upon those undocumented students that overcame many endeavors and graduated from college as a source of hope. They overcame my challenge. Martin Luther King Jr. once said,” If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream.” When no one else believed in me I had to believe in myself. When no one else had hope I learned that hope had to be created within.
My name is Aura and I am Undocumented
Today, March 10th, undocumented youth all over this country will come out the shadows about their immigration status. Their actions will range from personal conversations with guidance counselors to coming out parties with friends to coming out rally as is the case with the Immigrant Youth Justice League in Chicago. The NYSYLC will be featuring the coming out stories of our members every day.
Are you interested in sharing your story? Contact us at tellyourstory@nysylc.org
We cheered her on from a few feet away, and although the family was now divided, we stood together because her college graduation was a victory for all of us. I knew the excitement of the moment would prevent her from noticing us. But as she approached us and walked out of the auditorium, her eyes met mine and we shared a smile. The moment was bittersweet; I was proud of my sister. I was proud of my family. But I was also facing my future, or at least the uncertainty of it. As I watched her take hold of her bachelor’s degree, the struggles and challenges I would soon face tapped me on the shoulder.
A few years back, our family was financially stable. Both my parents were employed. But when they divorced, making ends meet became a testing task. Soon after my sister graduated, she was forced to put her career' advancement on hold and to take on a full time position as a receptionist in order to help the family. She soon assumed the role of head of the family, putting her name on the lease and covering some of the utility bills, responsibilities that came about due to the instability of my mom's job as a housekeeper. The services women like her provide are luxuries that Americans are willing to live without during uncertain times. She has gone weeks without one day of work and has been forced to consider the option of returning to Colombia, where life is poor, but manageable because of the proximity of friends and family.
Junior year I had to face reality, the fact that I would encounter even more challenges than my sister had . While my sister was in college the family funds had often run low and the extra money we made went to her education. But the little savings we gathered were quickly depleted as we adjusted to the changes brought about by my parents’ divorce and the ever-present challenges presented by our immigration status. My father began a new life with a new family, thus limiting the money he could provide to his daughters. Now, my mom, who had never had to support a household on her own, was left with what seemed the weight of the world. The turbulence of our new lifestyle puts my college future on hold.
As an undocumented student I am not eligible for federal financial aid or for most scholarships. My options for higher education are limited; admittance to higher education institutions and scholarship offers are made nearly impossible since lack of legal status is expected to be made up for with merit. Working to fund my education is an option that seems more and more far-fetched because the stagnant economy and the political light being shed on immigration reform limit job possibilities and turn glaring eyes toward students like me. Scholarship funds would allow me to sustain myself only if my parents were to choose to leave the country.
For a while I was in a period of denial in which I was aware of my status but it still seemed like something foreign to me, something that didn’t affect me.
At moments I was determined to accomplish my dreams, while at other moments I felt like giving up. But my reality kept presenting itself. It was the uncertainty that threw me off balance.
I knew I could not let myself fall into a state of depression. I knew I needed a support system. I knew that I needed to face this challenge head on. I began by talking to my close friends and my family – but although they listened to all my frustrations and wanted to help me get out of my situation, I knew they could only do so much.
A newspaper article brought hope back to me. It praised the work of an organization, the New York State Youth Leadership Council, leading a campaign in support of the DREAM Act and the scholarships it offered. It was the first time I had heard of this bill and I became aware of the growing momentum of the movement at both the national and local levels.
I attended one of the YLC's Get Active Conferences for youth interested in getting involved. I quickly connected with other participants and could see myself working with them in the future. My organizer self woke up. I began my involvement with my participation in the YLC’s High School Institute, which explored issues of race, organizing, and leadership. I used the resources and skills I obtained from the program to explain and advocate for the DREAM Act through research papers and a presentation for my English Writing College Now course. This was my first experience with activism.
The family I found in the YLC has offered me the guidance, encouragement and support that have kept me going. With every passing meeting I feel more comfortable about sharing my story. I have met too many talented individuals who have not been able to reach their full potential because they are trapped by their lack of legal status in the country they love, contribute to, and call home. I have seen the strength of heartfelt words whenever we welcome dreamers and allies. The inspiration and courage of the Dreamers in this country is the fuel of the immigrant youth movement.
As I prepare for the next chapter of my life (college!), I take control of my future. I will not let 9 digits have more control than I do. I hope to gain the tools and skills to further my role in the New York State Youth Leadership Council. I plan to prepare myself for a career in the non-profit world so that I can continue working with youth to encourage other undocumented students in situations like mine break loose from the paralysis and strains of their status, and share their own stories. I hope to provide a guiding light to help each of them reach his or her full potential. I know one day each one of us will be judged by the content of our character, not the lack of a nine-digit number.
From "Papers" to "Nine Magic Numbers"
by @SoniaG
On a chilly October evening the Youth Leadership Coucil hosted the New York City premier of "Papers" the movie . Many students, parents, dreamers, and supporters arrived and filled up the LGBTQ Center(where the movie was being screened). The reaction to the movie was very clear, everyones faced illustrated an appreciation to a documentary that portrayed the undocumented situation in a "to the point" manner but also as a very humane issue.
Not only was there a connection to the movie , but people felt connected to each other on that night. And that is where my connection with Lindsay A. Lazarski occurred. She approached me with the opportunity to be part of her project ( project that in the future would be known as Nine Magic Numbers). Over a period of two months she played "paparazzi"; following me around the city, in my college, and at home. She went with me to events (open mics, Hip Hop shows, etc.) She interviewed me, interviewed my family and took photographs.
All this data and pictures that she was compiling about me was part of a multimedia project that shares the stories of undocumented youth in New York City and their experiences with higher education and the college process. This project is called Nine Magic Numbers .
***Nine Magic Numbers has been embraced by the community, by artist and TV shows in such a great manner:
On Wednesday ,January 7th, Lindsay A. Lazarski( and I where special guest at the Brain Lehrer Live Show ( on CUNY TV). It even received a special shout out on www.wesofresh.com and soon will be screened at an event hosted by Rebel Diaz.
Do your part. Check the website out : www.NineMagicNumbers.com and leave a comment.
Special thanks to writter, Producer, and Editer of Nine Magic Numbers:
Lindsay A. Lazarski
Multimedia Journalist
CUNY Graduate School of Journalism
lindsay.lazarski@journalism.cuny.edu
Living without DREAM
Media, advocates and the public are familiar with the main argument for the passage of the DREAM Act. We know that every year 65,000 high school students graduate without a clear path to higher education due to their legal status. However, many times we forget to discuss the situation of a certain group of Dreamers: the college graduates.
Dreamers come face to face with the harsh reality of their legal status at various stages in their lives. First, when they are seniors in high schools, many of them realize that they are undocumented and have to struggle to attend college. For the few who are able to gain access to and afford college, another hit with reality happens during their senior year. Just like their peers, dreamers must start applying for internships, sheltering the dim hope to land a good job offer. In my case, after many failed attempts at applying for internships and jobs, I had to lower my expectations a notch. (I have to confess that it was bold and idealistic of me to think that companies such as Goldman Sachs, Deloitte and KPMG would overlook the social security requirement). I was fortunate to obtain an administrative job in a small start-up company. Many fellow dreamers, who are college graduates with bachelor's, master's and even doctoral degrees, have been forced to settle for low-paying jobs in the restaurant, domestic and clerical administration fields.
However, the obstacles are not bound to career limitations. What is one of the most sought-after dreams of young people? To travel! Young people have the energy, desire and passion to get to know the world, other places and cultures. Yes, a dreamer can travel to neighboring states and cities - although this has now become riskier with the increased enforcement regulations placed by ICE and CBP. Dreamers can’t travel abroad and additionally have to see and hear their peers, friends and colleagues discuss their latest vacation trip overseas. Then, the dreaded question comes: "So where have you traveled recently?" or "when was the last time you visited your family in your home country?" Getting questions like these is very frustrating. I have grown used to listen to these conversations, seem like I am interested, yet keep my spirits up and unaffected. Many of the “lies” outlined in a recent dreamactivist.org article come in handy at those times!
There are many more "menial" restraints that a dreamer has to deal with, for example, not being able to obtain a driver's license, having to show your passport when you want to get in to a club or cash a check (passport is the only government-issued identification that many agencies will accept), being unable to review your credit report because credit reporting agencies can't read your "social security" number (which in reality is your ITIN), or simply being unable to donate blood.
It is challenging to live with all these restrictions. Luckily, we have used these limitations as a source of strength and a motivation to continue fighting. However, this struggle undoubtedly has an emotional toll on young professionals, who do not see an end to this wait.
This is a plea to our congressmen and executive administration to pass the DREAM Act soon. There is a significant pool of young professionals who are ready to contribute to this nation's labor force. We can't keep waiting anymore!
To learn how you can help, please see here.
Papers Film Screening at Columbia University-Friday, Nov 13!!
If you missed the Papers Screening, now is your chance to view it before its too late!!!
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY
Alfred Lerner Hall Lobby
115th & BroadwayROOM C555
DOORS OPEN AT 6:30pm. Film begins at 7pm.
3 ways to purchase your tickets
- Email Martin at martin@nysylc.org to RSVP your ticket. You will be able to save your seat and pay $10 at the door
- Tickets can be purchased at the Columbia University TIC Office. The address is: Hours and Location
Ticket and Info Center
Alfred Lerner Hall Lobby
115th & BroadwayTIC Regular Fall Hours
Mon. 3 pm to 8 pm
Tues. - Fri. 1 pm to 8 pm
Sat. 3 pm to 10 pm
Sun. closed (open two hours before some performances) - Buy your tickets online: http://cuarts.com/calendar/view/type/4/event_id/4122. You will be able to purchase your tickets starting tomorrow Wednesday November 11!
Come to our Paper Film Screening October 29th @8pm!
Thanks to everyone who attended our screening of the movie "Papers".
Your support is very important to us
On Behalf of the NYSYLC and the crew of "Papers," THANKS!
