Over the last four years I was asked, many times, how does it feel to be an immigrant in the United States. I admit I never had the courage to say what was really in my heart because I always feared those whose been supporting me in this journey would take offense to my words. I was afraid they would think I was taking for granted everything they did for me; but Hispanic Heritage Month is here, there is a man who wants to "build a wall" running for president, and I'm tired. I am tired of not being acknowledged as a human being in "the best country in the world."
Being a Latina in America is the hardest thing I ever did in my life. We come here to be bigger than the circumstances we were born in. We come here to fight for a decent future. We come here to survive. Ironically, there is a war no one talks about it waiting for us when we arrive.
No, we're not living the American dream. We're setting ourselves on fire every day just to make it through the month. As an international student, I know I have walked the easiest path in these first four years, but what about now that I am a recent college graduate? What about now that I can't use the status of student anymore? What about now that I am just another immigrant?
I feel like I am always running, even though my legs are not even moving anymore. I feel like I am always trying to catch my breath, but I don't even know how to find the air in this place anymore. I feel like I am always being watched, although there is never someone by my side. I feel like I am always in danger, even when I am just staring at the sky asking for patience.
I feel lost, unwanted and hated. There is so much hatred around me. Toward me.
That's how it feels to be an immigrant in United States - the country of prejudice. I feel lost, but not the good type of lost where you always end up finding yourself at the end. I just feel lost like there is no place to go and no one to hold on to. Or better, like you're being forced to be someone and go somewhere when you don't even know who you are and where you came from anymore. I feel like I have no control. "No rights," they say. But what about human rights? Don't I deserve them?
Four months ago I walked on stage at graduation with my heart in my hands. No one took a plane and came to watch me get my diploma. Most of my American friends couldn't stop navel-gazing to understand why I was crying like a 7-years-old.
That's how I feel every day now that I am not a student anymore. I feel like I am running with my heart burning on my hands and crying like a child while everyone is looking at me like I was crazy, as if they hated me, as if this is all my fault, as if I deserve it.
But I chose it, didn't I? No, I didn't choose THIS. I chose a country I saw on TV. I chose a nation I thought was just like mine. I chose people I thought would see me just like one of their own. After all, aren't we all just human beings? Aren't we all children of the same God?
Maybe it is not as easy as I think to see life through someone else's eyes. Maybe some people will always be blind. But not me. Not us. Me and mi gente latina, we refuse to give up. We refuse to sleep in, we refuse to slow down, we refuse to be treated like this. As long as you are eating tacos, listening to Jennifer Lopez and watching Antonio Banderas' movies, we demand respect.
The contributions of the Hispanic/Latino community to the development of this country won't be forgotten nor taken for granted. We are human. We are here. We won't leave. Take your prejudice and judgment back to who you learned with, and spread love instead. And love only. And let us be us. Let us be here.
"We've learned to fly the air like birds, we've learned to swim the seas like fish, and yet we haven't learned to walk the Earth as brothers and sisters." Martin Luther King Jr
