Last night I saw Papers: Stories of Undocumented Youth, a series of interviews with, along with other information about, teens growing up in this country without legal immigration status. I’m working on a story right now with an undocumented protagonist, which made this of particular interest to me, but it’s an issue that’s of interest anyway–because of course, an undocumented teen is no different than any other teen, save for the beyond-their-control question of which side of our borders they were born on, and many undocumented children and teens don’t remember living anywhere else, any more than any kid growing up in this country does–it’s just their home. And yet, of course, government policies treat them as if they’re a different sort of creature entirely, especially as graduation nears.
Two things in particular that seem worth mentioning, one that I knew and then one that I didn’t:
– For many immigrants, there is no option of waiting in line to immigrate legally–because there is no line, no category in which one is even eligible to apply. Without of specialized skills, or a relative who’s a citizen, or refugee status, or coming from a country that not all that many immigrants have already come from and having one’s name randomly drawn among others doing the same, usually immigrating legally is simply not an option. Which means that a teen who’s grown up here, and is deported, has a very good chance of never being able to return to the only home they’ve known. (I also found recently when doing my research that if the relative isn’t a spouse or parent, wait times can be more than a decade even then.)
– The DREAM Act (Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors Act), which has been proposed but not–so far–been able to reach the floor of the House or Senate for a vote, would allow for some form of permanent residence status for those who graduate high school and pursue a college education. Not a full solution perhaps, but a pretty significant start, and there are still . Imagine the difference simply being able to go through high school knowing college (and holding down a legal job while in same) is an option would make–the difference knowing that, legally, you’re an actual person would make. (Imagine coming of age and trying to figure out who you really are while knowing that legally you’re not a person, don’t count, don’t have any real rights.)
I find I keep thinking about my grandmother, who came to this country as a toddler with no papers whatsoever, and spent her whole life knowing no other home. My country celebrates her immigrant experience now (though maybe we didn’t then), considers it part of what makes the U.S. great, even as we demonize those who are doing the exact same thing now.
I have lots more opinions and thoughts about this, as I try to listen and learn and listen some more.
I recommend seeing the movie, if it screens in your area.