My Name Is Isabel and I am Undocumented

I've come to realize that life is merely a succession of decisions made during precarious moments that alter life in its present form in ways that are inconceivable when those decisions are made. In my life, one of those moments took place in the summer of 1992. I was 5 years old when a decision was made for me that permanently changed the course of my life. My parents made the decision to try their luck in the US, the land of opportunity. My mom received a visa and we crossed at the El Paso-Juarez border on a balmy July night with my US citizen aunt. I was woken up and told to pretend to be asleep when we got inside a little building. My mom presented her visa and my aunt presented her naturalization papers. She held me in her arms while also presenting her daughter's US birth certificate. My dad came at a later date, having been sponsored by a different aunt.

It would have been nice to have had a say in the process that uprooted my entire life.

The simple fact that my aunt committed fraud by presenting me as her daughter means a lifetime ban from the only country I have ever known. If I'm ever forced to leave, I will never be able to return. While I always knew that I was illegal, I never understood the ramifications. I grew up naively thinking that if I worked hard and proved to everyone how amazing I was, someone would smile down on me and forgive the transgressions of my parents, as well-intentioned as they were, and my life would be happy from that point on. All my teachers encouraged me in this idealistic thinking because they never knew how the odds were stacked against me. I had assimilated so well, no one would have ever guessed that I was an immigrant, let alone an illegal one.

I worked so hard that in 8th grade I was among a select few that took the SAT as part of a gifted program in my middle school. I did well enough to qualify to attend Cranbrook, a private prep school with a sticker price of nearly $35,000 a year. I researched the school and fell in love with its buildings and the promise of a challenging education. This was one of the very first times when I realized that my undocumented status proved to be a scarlet letter of sorts when it came to my education. There was no way my family could afford the costs up front and there was no way I could apply for any financial aid from the school without a SSN. I was incredibly disappointed because I knew I had the merit to attend a school of that caliber and I had the work ethic necessary to succeed. The only thing that was holding me back was my lack of papers.

Fortunately for me, in addition to my merit and my work ethic, I also have a strong will to succeed. When I graduated high school in 2006, I left with about $22,000 in scholarships and deep gratitude for the teachers who believed in me and helped me along the way. Although I didn't make it to Cranbrook, I did make it to college. I'm currently double majoring in Accountancy and Spanish with minors in General Business and Economics in a public university in Michigan. I spend most my time going to school, volunteering for a couple student organizations, and working to improve my 3.9 GPA. I hope to graduate in 9 semesters in April of 2011.

I also hope that the DREAM Act passes by the time I graduate. I've made my decision to take my CPA examination because my dream is to be an accountant in one of the big 4 accounting firms. I would like to set a good example for my little sister as well as my little cousins; I will be the first in my family to graduate from a university in the US. Another decision that I've made is to eventually pursue my MBA at Harvard Business School. I refuse to have others make any more decisions on my life. My mother and I have a U-visa application pending with USCIS, but it will probably take over a year to adjudicate our application. My best chance lies with the passage of the DREAM Act.

My sincere hope for the future is that other students like me have the opportunity to succeed in their respective lives because their success is a net benefit to the country that they grew up in and flourished in. It's rather easy to complain about the fact that we're here; it is harder to offer realistic solutions. As a future accountant, it pains me to read the simplistic nativistic idea of "go home and use your degree there" because the US invested in my K-12 education, much like a person invests in a business, and I feel like I should contribute back via taxes. Students like me are an investment - human and intellectual assets - not a liability. It's stupid to invest in a business and not expect a dividend, yet this is exactly the issue with my fellow Dreamies and I. We don't want a handout, just an opportunity to prove our collective merit and work ethic through either higher education or military service.