My Name Is Andrea, and I am Undocumented

In honor of DREAM Act Week of Action, every day we'll be sharing the personal stories of undocumented students who need us to pass that legislation and give them the opportunity to reach their dreams. This is Andrea's story.

My name is Andrea and I am Undocumented.

I was a sophomore in high school when I applied for a marine biology work-study program at Chicago's aquarium. I submitted my application, essays, and recommendations from several high school teachers, and eagerly waited for a response. The day after my interview, I received a call telling me I was one of the ten students (out of 500 applicants) that had been accepted. All I needed to do was give them a social security number. My parents told me to put my ITIN (taxpayer identification) number instead, and I, being completely clueless, complied without questioning their decision. After the aquarium followed up asking for proof of permanent residency, my mom suddenly broke down and began to beg for them to accept me nonetheless.

I could not understand how my being born in Mexico had anything to do with me being accepted. Since I was five years old, I had been pledging to the red, white, and blue every morning before classes began. I had quickly learned English and excelled in school, believing what I had always been taught: that with hard work, I could accomplish anything. Little did I know that this incident was just the beginning of a future of disappointments and disillusionment. Youth that grow up in the U.S. are taught to believe in the supposed "American Dream," only to realize that this dream is determined by a nine-digit number. I grew increasingly ashamed and confused, leading me to lock myself in my room and look online for answers.

Learning what it means to be undocumented is a long and heartbreaking process, one that I am reminded of day after day, year after year. My dream of immersing myself in different cultures by studying abroad has turned into dust. I have not been able to hold a steady job in order to help my mom who sacrificed everything she had for my future and well-being. I had no choice but to decline my acceptance at the  aquarium, and my dream of going to college was called into question.

Nevertheless, I continued to do my best in school and applied to various community colleges and universities, yet finding private scholarships and alternative means to pay for college proved to be a challenge. Several colleges offered partial scholarships that could be renewed each year, but my parents would still have to pay an impossible amount of money. Despite being on the honor roll all throughout high school and holding a 3.8 GPA my senior year, I was still doubtful about my chances to attend college. I applied for the only two scholarships that were offered by my school and was fortunate enough to win $11,000.

I realize that I have been one of the lucky ones, able to attend college and pay in-state tuition, whereas my peers have had to drop out or were discouraged to even apply because they could not afford it. On the other hand, I dread to think about what my future will bring. My mom has been working three back-breaking jobs to support us, and what will I have to offer, or pay her back with, once I graduate? This is why some sort of legislation such as the DREAM Act needs to pass immediately. Youth have a right to an education, to not live in fear, and to pursue their dreams without backlash.

Today, five years later, I have grown and learned to no longer live in fear or in shame. While it may have taken me this long, I have been able to meet others with both similar and distinct experiences, continually learning everyday. I am thankful for spaces like these where we can articulate our experiences and make our voices heard because, while a little piece of paper may have temporarily held us back, our voices continue to be our most powerful tool. My right to speak out is something that can never be taken away from me.

Photo credit: jimg944