The path to college #2: No idea

Sorry for not posting for some time now; I have been changing the world… Well, not really. Anyways, this time I am going to post about how complicated it is to get to college. This will be a four or five piece work.

It has been a while since I got into this deal about going to college, and let me tell you that it was not easy.

For one, there were just too many things I did not know. I did not know that college was an option for me. What about financing college? No idea. I knew my family did not have the means to support me in college financially and I suspected that the government was not going to help me, which ended up being true. Then there was the question about what school would I go. Well, I did not know what schools accepted undocumented students or what I was supposed to do. Overall, I did not have the slightest idea about the college process—there is such thing as college process? Yeah, exactly.

In addition, there is the whole thing about convincing one’s family that it will all be okay if one tried to go to college. Our immigrant families (remember I am talking about families in the U.S. that could not and/or are not able to get immigration stuff straighten up for many reasons thus far) are more likely to come from low-income, low-skilled social class and are more likely to be low-income and in low-skilled jobs (although low-skilled is a relative term (more about this later)). This means that they too have no idea about the college process and what it would take for their school-age daughters/sons/relatives/friends to get into college.
As a student, trying to get one’s family or relatives to understand that one wants to go to college gets a little tedious. That the family might not know about college is one obstacle. Often times, I remember, trying to explain how I would get to college to my family ended up in being questioned and challenged due to my immigration status. Questions such as, “Oh Puck, and how are you going to pay for it?” or statements such as, “immigration is going to get you,” or “it’s your choice.” Well, yeah it was my choice, but it was just hard and sometimes burdensome to hear such comments by my own family members, those who were supposed to be with me on everything and anything.

I mean, think about it. I, the greatest student (joking here just so you know), could not convince my own family that I will make it to college! For the love of dogs, why didn’t they get it? Why didn’t they believe me? Why were they succumbing to fear? Why were they dragging me down that path? Didn’t they get that my dream was to go to college? Didn’t they see that I, unlike so many of my peers in school (more on this later too), actually was trying hard in school? I actually wanted something meaningful after high school

Additionally, as a student of “color,” immigrant, first generation, low-income, and whatever else you want to throw in to the equation, there are not many role models one can look up to. When I was in high school, there were not many who looked like me or like my schools peers—my school was mostly students of “color.” [I put color in quotation marks for lack of a better word and because I believe being white is a color]. Where I lived I just knew people like us, people who were mostly from other countries, many undocumented, many uneducated, no person who had actually gone on to college, many doing manual work for no nigh wages. TV is just disproportionally one color and one class and always misrepresenting others and seems that they looooove stereotypes. Oh, and in high school, I was never really taught about people like me who had made history—we did talk about African Americans from time to time, but other than that, not really (“diversity” meant “black”).

Obviously I am in college today in the great state of Minnesota. With the help of many and efforts from me, I have defied all odds against me. This blog will later be followed by what I experienced with my family while pursuing entrance to college, what I learned of the college process, what I believe many of my schools peers never made it to college and why some did, and maybe someday why “low-skilled” is a relative term. Stay tuned; make comments.

The Honorable P

The uncertain future

As a student in college, and undocumented, it comes easy to be invited to speak to other high schoolers who might find themselves in the situation I found myself in a couple of years ago: what is after high school graduation. The last couple of years of high school for me were very much about that, about thinking what I will do after working so hard in school and at the end, it would have been "worthless." I thought getting to college was not going to happen nor that it was possible even.

Through the help of certain programs who get it, who believe that education should be available to everyone, I made it. Now it has been my pleasure to go around and speak to students in high school who are confronting such questions about the future. I often times find myself highlighting the different people, organizations who will support them. I also point out that it will be up to them to seek the necessary help, and that sometimes some will give them wrong advice, even that college is not possible for them. But, as my life attests, college is a possibility even though there is no one-way for us to get there.

Last week when I was speaking to a group of students who are going into the 9th grade, some asked about where I was from (maybe to make a personal connections), others asked about whether or not I was bilingual (if I spoke the same language as their families), some others asked if I liked soccer (not my favorite sport I have to admit, but sometimes enjoy it. I do own a soccer team wallet...), but one of them asked me about what she had heard: after college one would not be able to get a job even with a degree. I have had this question before many times, and I am always honest. There is not a clear answer to what will happen after we graduate. We have heard stories of students being hired by their own schools after a long process, students being hired by others, and some going to other parts of the world to work.

However, I always emphasize that today what should be important is to continue to get educated by any means, that is the only way out of inequality and injustice. But also, that they cannot forget that we all hold power. If many of us are believed to have brought down the economy (which is B.S.), our masses definitely hold power in this country and we must put that to use. And this can come through engaging in our communities, giving our time to other kids tutoring, giving our time to organization that get people out to vote or making sure those we know who can vote actually vote(we can influence voting outcomes), etc.

There are more than 60,000 students who graduate from high school every year who are undocumented and certainly, at least, a small percentage of us go on to college. There are thousands of us in college today receiving a high valued education. We are assets to our communities and the country. The country needs our skills. Society is in deep need of our high qualified work. Hopefully, soon laws would change and allow us to fully become members of society, so that we contribute even more than we do today.

Overall, even if often times younger students become discouraged for what the future might hold, my message is always about hope. Hope that they may continue to stay in school and out of trouble. Hope that they can see themselves as change makers, in their families and communities. Hope that immigration laws change soon. Hope to keep dreaming and setting goals for life. And hope that education will grant us a better future.
As you can see, I am a very optimistic person.

The Honorable P

"Ignorance is Strenght," in favor of who?

I got this book, 1984 by George Orwell, from a friend after we talked about government surveillance, especially after U.S. 9/11 (not mentioning the 9/11s of other countries caused by us). I had heard about this for a while now, but had chosen not to read it until my friend gave me the book after he read a book I asked him to read. Even though this book is a little dry for me, I have managed to get through it almost.

The reason why I bring this book up is because while I was reading it today, I read a few sentences that really stroked me as relevant to my life and the lives of many others. This is the passage:

"The masses never revolt of their own accord, and they never revolt merely because they are oppressed. Indeed, so long as they are not permitted to have standards of comparisons they never become aware that they are oppressed...The problem, that is to say, is educational" (Orwell, 1984).

During a meeting over the weekend (who really likes meetings over the weekend?) I was reminded about how the life I am living today is very similar to that of a slave (this is a stretch, I know) in that I need to seek to be in locations where I can be "free." Frederick Douglass once said, "I didn't know I was a slave until I found out I couldn't do the things I wanted," which speaks about how I feel as an undocumented student. Also, my life today resembles that of a Jew in Nazi Germany, where I must choose who I tell I am undocumented, make sure I know who knocks on our door, be wary of the neighbors, and even the government. This I know because I a have studied both periods in history, which is different than many I know, as I describe later.

While I was with my family this weekend, we were talking about immigration, which is not a shocker really. But, someone mentioned about their jobs and the kind of work they do. It reminded me about how little possibility they have really to move up social class spectrum (had ladder here, which made me laugh since they actually work with ladders...), which is what many want to do.

Here is my reasoning and how it relates to the aforementioned 1984 quote. I know that I am being oppressed in many ways (and I am doing something about it) and I also know that many of my family and those we know are being oppressed. But, which is different with me, they do not know that the jobs they hold is really due to oppression. They think that because they did not go to school or become specialized in something, they cannot get a better job. And even going to school is not feasible for them; they have to work to sustain families, and so forth.

Moreover, they do not know the history of oppression, at least in our country. I asked some people I know if they knew about the grape strike, segregation, the Holocaust, or the genocide of Natives in the Americas. No one really knew what I was talking about. Some hardly knew who Martin Luther King, Jr., Cesar Chavez, or even who Gandhi is. They've heard about segregation, but do not really know what that means.

In reality, they are stock in the same low-income, low-skilled jobs and in neighborhoods that are decaying day by day. They have no knowledge of what oppression has been for others to what they are living and how their stories are so intertwined, how they are being oppressed day by day. It is a sad realization.

However, in the past year I have seen something new--they are learning what their rights are. Knowing our rights, limited of course, at least allows us all to be treated with some dignity although I have heard stories where that has not been the case. Immigrant rights advocates, at least those who actually care about the people and not just their organizations, are part of this change. And this change will help us all come together and "revolt" (nonviolently) or, as Douglass puts it, "Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will."

Therefore we must demand, so that we might one day come out of the shadows. We, immigrants and allies, showed our power in 2006 when more than 40,000 people in Minnesota joined to march against draconian proposals in Washington, D.C. We succeeded that time, and I know that as we all become more educated and learn that our oppression cannot outlast our will to a better future, we will succeed again.

"Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe." Frederick Douglass

- The Honorable P

Turn your head and caugh, damn it!

I am applying for a program in the fall. I have to do a lot of paperwork. When I read in one of the forms, after doing a lot of work for this and paying the application fee, that a physical and insurance coverage are required, I became very frustrated.

For once, I thought I did not have to deal with anything related to immigration when applying for this program. But again, I was reminded about it because I do not have health care insurance. This was a real deal-breaker for me once I found out about this requirement. Then, I found out that through my school I get some sort of coverage, which could be used in order to actually be able to do this program I really want to do.

After this I called to make an appointment for my physical. I had to give personal info, which is normal. But then, I was asked to give my social security number. I don't have one! I asked if I had to give a number and the person asked, 'Do you have a problem giving me this information?" "Yes I do," I said. I felt angry at myself for giving that answer, but I was not about to explain my life to this person over the phone. I was angry at the fact that, again, I was reminded about immigration and what I can and cannot do.

Sometimes I wish I could just forget. Sometimes it feels like a burden to be constantly reminded about it all. Sometimes I wish I could live a normal life, a life that is not so limited and constrained by rules that oppress. I, for once, would not want to be reminded all the time about it.

At the same time, I cannot forget that I can be part of the solution and that I can make a difference in the outcome of what happens with students like myself. I will certainly keep my head up, even if sometimes it is hard, and continue to work for my future and the future of our great country.

I know now that I have to take that physical, do the whole "turn your head and cough" thing. But I know that even though it took some courage to find out about whether or not I could still do this program, I will be doing the program and that I will be having an awesome semester. This really affirms that if one really cares about something, one would do what it takes to get there, and yes, even doing the whole "turn your head and cough" deal.

Is it always about immigration?

I was walking to a movie with my friends from college, who happen to be white. They made some jokes, racially charged, and I fired a joke about immigration and whites (Side note: if someone thinks they are going to make jokes about minorities, don't expect I will just listen and laugh; I will fire back with a great "white" joke...which makes my white friends flinch!). One of them asked me, "Is everything about immigration?"

Puck: "Actually, a lot in my life is about immigration."

This statement highlights two things. One, it speaks about how little some of the friends I have in school know about me. These are people I do not really trust with my "secrets." In reality, there are not many students in school who know I am undocumented, which is very interesting to think about. I mean, as a leader in the community, I know many, many people. Yet, only counted and "chosen" people know about my situation.

The other thing my statement does is that it really tells about my life. In reality, my life is much about immigration. In many ways, my immigration status defines much of what I can do. I think about it every day, which seems not to be the case for my white friends. I'm sure they would if they had someone really close who has to struggle with our broken system.

Here are some examples about how my status really limits me. If I wan to travel, I risk it. Getting a job, not an option really. Speaking out on immigration in a personal way, often times not feasible. Going dancing, limited since some places require state I.D.s, and most of my white friends do not go to clubs where I can go.

However, my status has not stopped me from doing many things. I am in college, and being in college is being liberated in many ways. I can continue my education after high school; I can become a leader; I can still play role in my community and not seclude to a life of fear; I am being educated in certain disciplines.

With that said, I think I can say that even though my life can be a really serious one, I still hold a sense of humor, which really helps me keep some sanity.

The Honorable P

Superheroes are aliens...

So, I've been thinking about what are some of the things I should share with you in this blog. Even though I have yet to figure that out still, here is something I want you to know.

The other day I was with a friend and he asked why are immigrants consider "aliens." I said I had no idea about that, but it really sounds like a biblical term. Then, I really started thinking about that and came to the conclusion that we "aliens" are the koolest.

Here is my reasoning. Being an "alien" would constitute that we are not from here. For God's sake, an "alien" is not even from this world! And I guess being undocumented means I get more "alienized," even kooler, huh?

In any case, the U.S. has invented many superhero/ine stories, such as Superman, Spiderman, or Catwoman. We praise Superman; we have how many movies about him? Well, where did he come from? Not from earth that's for sure. He is the most alien thing I know! And yet, he was able to get a job, to get sort of a real life. I never found whether or not he even has a social security number! I mean, this dude is so way more alienized than me... and yet, even without a social security number, which is really what makes things a bit harder for me, Superman is an icon in our society.

Well, he does save the world, I'll give you that. But I am a real person and just as inspiring as he is. And I am trying to save the world too--I recycle ok? You should try it too.

My point is that being an "alien" is not as bad as you might think (in this sense)--we are the Supermen/Catwomen of our generation. I have endured so much that you could argue I have superpowers. Every time I fall, I stand up. Every time I am hurt, I cry and suffer pain, but I am strong; I usually overcome.

I still have to say that I don't like being referred to as an "alien." I am a real person, I assure you.

Hasta la vista humans.

- The Honorable P

Frustruation

It has been a while since I have been struggling with being public or not. There are many opportunities for me to be engaged in shaping the debate about immigration and immigration reform. However, I also face great risks. Risks that could endanger my security and that of those around me.

I have been following the course of the DEAM Act for the past few years. There are various organizations working on this and I am grateful for them to be doing this kind of work. In so many ways I want to help. But then, signing a petition means I put my name or that I lie (like I am doing in this blog using a made-up sarcastic name). And of course, I cannot leave my trace of myself all over--that, again, can endanger me or those around me, who I have to say I love very much and I would be very heartbroken to lose again.

In addition, I have been following the story of the Jorge Alonso Chehade, who now faces deportation this Sept. 25, 2009. His success story has mean nothing to his case. And even today, August 6, 2009, another undocumented students is being deported.... I cannot in any way imagine the fear they must be confronting without much options. This really shows how meritocracy works for selected ones, which takes away the value of hard work.

I was about to call ICE and support Jorge. Was I really going to? Now that I think about it, I was, but opted not to. And I feel guilty. Guilty that I cannot help someone who is facing what I most dare. Guilty that I chose my safety for his. Guilty for fearing.

I am frustrated. I wish I could be of more help and I know that I can't. I am also sure that there are other cases just like Jorge's and that there is really little to safeguard them from the gates of hell, deportation to a place much unknown, where our families are not, where our friends are not, where our lives are not.

How I wish what we have accomplished through hard work here could be our safe gate. But by the examples of these young Americans being expelled from our grate country, there really seems to be that we live in the limbo, a life of fear, a life ruled and determined by others, a life not of our own. Their stories make me very sad. Today more than ever I wish an end to this would happen fast, unlike how politics work--I want this suffering to end.

I am saddened today.

The Honorable P

The path to college

I have been thinking a lot about how I ended up in college. While I am not going to talk about the whole experience here, I will like to bring up a few things that happened through that journey, which was really a journey.

Last night I was talking to a friend who is in the same situation as me and we are both in college as well. She was telling me how her school "lost" me to where I go now. I remembered I had this weird experience at the college she now attends when I was deciding where I would go. I remember that I was trying to decide between her school and where I go now.

Obviously I made a choice and it was not her school, but the person I sort of worked with while checking out the school was pretty bumped up I did not go there. Now every time I see this person we both talk about it, which always brings me smiles. "We lost you to" your school she would say. I would close my eyes and put my head down and then laugh. Not to be cocky or anything here, but I was "wanted." I mean, two schools trying to get me, even in my situation, is pretty remarkable I have to say (and you have to agree).

My friend and I also talked about applying to college. We both shared a bit of similar experiences. We applied to schools we were interested in for many reasons and for the most part we got in most school, at least in MN. And even though we had more positive responses, the few negative ones really brought us down. Some times they were based on our status, other on financial aid, and other times because of ignorance.

Hearing good news from school was awesome, but there was just something about being rejected based on one little thing. Now that I think about it, it was like being Sonia Sotomayor in hearings and having the senators questions one thing that we are sure we would have changed if we had the chance. We were not being judged based on our credentials.

This really brought us down many times. I remember really doubting myself many times whenever that rejection knocked on my door. I remember writing how much work I had been putting in school and at the end it would be all worthless. I remember getting angry, upset to those around me when they really could not do anything. Why couldn't they do anything?! It was all so unfair! The last year of high school was very emotional, draining me of much of my enthusiasm.

But you know what, I made it, as my friend did, and as many have done it as well. No matter how many times we encountered drawbacks, we kept on. We might have doubted ourselves at some point, but our courage and willingness to make it to college did not waver. We are in college, and that is a fact. No one will take that away from us.

The Honorable P

A life of fear

I just visited my family. I get to see them very often, or a lot more than most college students that is. Whenever I see them, I am reminded of why I want to make sure I get to see them often, why I am in college, and how much I love them. They are the shits.

However, this time I was home, two things happened. The first one was that I had to wait for someone inside our apartment to make sure they knew who it was coming in. This was strange since I had already told them I was coming. Though, I did not think much about it at that moment.

The second thing that happened was when I was told to lock the door later. I didn't think about locking it I guess. This might not be strange or anything, but what followed really intrigues me. After I locked the door, the "reason" why to lock it became clear. Apparently, the other day early on the morning, someone rang the door at my family's to get into the building. Later in the day, they found out some police had been waiting for someone within the building (no idea who nor why); two weeks later, someone was taken from their house by immigration agents.

Now, we had heard stories of people being taken by immigration all the time. We had never heard stories of someone being taken from our own building. And even before this happened, my family always made comments about immigration--don't go here or there, or immigrations is going to take you, etc. Now, such comments are more constant.

I had never really paid much attention to these comments. To attest to that, this Spring I was in the crowd, by mistake (not really), during an anti-tax rally in St. Paul where the MN governor spoke. I almost made it into the RNC last year! Though, there I paid attention to not get into the wlof''s mouth. For the most part, if throughout my life I had actually paid attention to such comments of fear, I probably would have a 9th grade education, be working in construction or in a fast food restaurant, and really live in constant fear.

The Honorable P at a MN anti-tax rally.
The Honorable P, 2009

At the same time, when I heard why to close the door right away someone comes or leaves, I hear a lot more. I hear the fear my family lives every single day. I heard the fear children are instilled through the lives of their parents. I heard the fear of many for they don't want their families to be relocated and separated again. I heard the cry for an end to this fear.

For once, I was fearful. I fear more than ever that one day I might come back home and my family is gone. I fear that my family could be split, again. I fear that once again I would lose my innocence to tragedy. I fear that this fear will take over my willingness to fear no more.

-The Honorable P