“I’m only here for the weekend. Otherwise, our relationship is long-distance.”, he said.
“How do you deal with that?” I asked Latasha.
“We try to do the same things that we would do if we were actually living together in the same place. When we hang out in person, we like to read together. So, right now, we’re reading Harry Potter over the phone. It’s a way of making things feel more normal. When you’re in a long-distance relationship, you feel like you’re always catching up: ‘How has work been?’ ‘How was your week?’ Catching up is meaningful, but it can’t be the whole substance of a relationship. Doing regular things is our way of making our relationship more positively constructive, so that we’re not always just catching up, but moving forward, too.”
“I came to America when I was six years old. Mom said she brought us here so that we’d have opportunities in life. She said that back in the Bahamas, it’s only the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots.’ She wanted us to have more choices. But I don’t think she fully understood how things work here. She was a news reporter back in the Bahamas. But the only job she could get here was taking care of old people. My dad could only work construction. We moved to four different states just so they could find work. They always told me, ‘Just study hard in school and everything will work out fine.’ So that was my plan. I got all A’s up until the 11th grade-- except for one B in math. My goal was to get top twenty in my class, then go to college, then get a degree, and then get a job. I realized the truth my senior year. My guidance counselor told me I couldn’t get a loan. I couldn’t get financial aid. Even if I could find a way to pay for school, I probably couldn’t get a job. I felt so mad at everyone. There were some kids who completely slacked off in school, but even they were going to college. I started having panic attacks. My dad told me not to worry. He called me a ‘doubting Peter.’ He invited all his friends over to a fish fry to help raise money. And he did get $3,000. But that wasn’t enough. So I searched really hard on the Internet and found the Dream.us scholarship. My mom was so excited when I got it. They’re paying for me to go to Queens College. Now my mom’s really scared again because DACA got revoked. She’s crying all the time at work. I try to tell her that no matter what happens, we’re not going to die. We just might have to start over.”
“I was on a leadership team in 5th grade. At the end of the year we were supposed to take a trip to Washington DC. We held fundraisers and everything. But when it was time to go, I didn’t have the identification papers to buy a plane ticket. So our teacher Ms. Rivera decided that we’d take a bus. Just so I could go too. That trip changed my life. It made me want to be a lawyer. And Ms. Rivera became one of the closest people in my life. She always kept in touch. She basically watched me grow up. One time in high school I got in a huge fight with my mom, and Ms. Rivera came and took me on a long car ride. I started to tell her everything. I told her about a recent break-up, and how I smoked weed, and ‘I did this,’ and ‘I did that.’ She just listened to everything. Then she started telling me about her life too. She told me that she’d been in an abusive relationship. I’d always thought her life was perfect because she was a guidance counselor. But she’d been through so much too. When it came time to apply for college, Ms. Rivera was the one who helped me apply for DACA. She told me about the TheDream.us scholarship. I didn’t even want to apply. I was ready to give up. I’d just accepted that I’d always work in restaurants like my mom. But Ms. Rivera made me apply. She said: ‘What happened to that girl who wanted to be a lawyer?’ I learned that I got the scholarship in February. They're paying for my entire college. Ms. Rivera was so proud of me. She kept saying: ‘I told you so."
“We were pretty poor back in Mexico. My parents were divorced. Mom did the best she could. She was always a hustler. She’d sell jewelry, or food, or anything that she could. But a lot of nights there still wouldn’t be enough to eat. We’d survive on tortillas and salt. I was only eight when we came to America. So I was too young to understand. I think my mom thought she could make some money and bring us home. She thought she’d learn English, and maybe start a business. But it was so much harder than she expected. We moved so much looking for work. She’s fifty and she still cleans houses every day. Every year she gets more worn down. She’s been getting sick a lot lately. But she can’t afford to stop. She never will. Right now I’m in school. I always thought I had to be the best student because I’m undocumented. I thought I’d go to law school, or graduate school. But now I’m not so sure. My mom would literally destroy her body to make that happen for me. How could I allow that to happen? I’m a Dreamer. And everyone loves the Dreamers because we’re a perfect package to sell. But why am I the only one who gets the chance to feel safe? Whenever I hear ‘I stand with Dreamers,’ I always think about my mom. I’m not willing to throw her under the bus. I'm not willing to be a bargaining chip to make her seem like a criminal. Everything people admire about Dreamers is because of our parents.”
“When I die I want to have one of those burial pods that turns your body into a tree. Maybe if it can give off enough oxygen, it will repay my earthly debt for all the gas and electricity I’ve used throughout my life and all the water I’ve wasted.”
"I was raised by two very different grandmothers. One was a strict disciplinarian, almost military-style, and the other was an artist, free-spirited, and open-minded. For a long time, I felt stuck in the middle between these two ways of being, but recently I have finally been leaning towards the artist in me."
“My dad is like my number one dude. I can tell him anything. He resigned from being my father and became my best friend. He said, ‘I can’t tell you what to do and how to live your life but I will give you advice and I will be your best friend. All I ask of you is to be who you are and find happiness.”
©Gerrishon Sirere
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