Street Roots • April 28-May 4, 2017
News
Page 4
Growing up undocumented
These Dreamers beat the
odds, and now they’re
speaking out in the hopes
that others will too
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BY E M IL Y GREEN
S T A F F W R IT E R
hey knew their families were
different, and they knew that
difference meant they had fewer
rights than most Americans.
They watched as their parents swallowed
their pride and went to work for long hours
at menial and labor-intensive jobs, never
seeming to get ahead and always seeming to
miss birthdays.
While “the land of opportunity” is the
only home they can remember, its
opportunities always seemed to be hanging
just slightly out of reach.
With no access to health care coverage,
after-school sports weren’t common among
kids in their community - they were
painfully aware that a broken bone was a
luxury their families could not afford.
As they became teenagers, and classmates
began to talk of all the freedoms a driver’s
license would bring, they knew that
milestone was off-limits to kids like them.
No matter how good their report cards or
how many extracurricular activities they
racked up, they wouldn’t be eligible for most
college scholarships, loans or federal
financial aid.
As high school graduation approached,
they saw other kids of their status begin
working full time in order to help provide
for their parents and siblings, forgoing
college and repeating the cycle of poverty.
This is what it’s like to grow up
undocumented in Oregon, according to
three young adults who sat down with Street
Roots to share their stories.
They are close friends, all graduating this
past year from Salem’s McKay High School,
where 64 percent of the student body is
Latino. All three were brought to the U.S.
illegally when they were just toddlers, and
while their parents had different reasons for
leaving Mexico, they all had the same
dream: that their children would have a
better future in America.
Growing up, they learned that being an
undocumented immigrant meant you did
what you could to survive.
Fatima Preciado said she hopes her story
will help motivate other Oregonians to join
their cause. All three have taken leadership
roles at Causa, an organization aimed at
improving the lives of Oregon’s Latino
immigrants.
“I’m just like you,” Fatima said. “I have
my own dreams too. I want to be able to
make a difference in this world, and I think
anyone can see themselves in me.”
Since the election in November, Fatima
has spoken publicly about her immigration
status, sharing her story and encouraging
others to do the same. For this reason, we
are publishing her first and last name. Her
friends Manuel and Joseluis asked that we
use only their first names.
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From left, Manuel, Fatima Preciado and Joseluis. These graduates o f Salem ’s McKay High School are Dreamers, recipients o f Deferred Action
fo r Childhood Arrivals. They are am ong roughly 12,000 undocumented immigrants in Oregon to be granted DACA status.
don’t have the opportunities of others
around you can be “heartbreaking,” Manuel
said.
In 2012, however, their futures all began
to look a little brighter. That’s when the
Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals
program was announced, making it possible
for qualifying undocumented immigrants
brought to the U.S. as children to apply for
temporary protection from deportation.
While DACA recipients, known as
“Dreamers,” aren’t given the full rights of
citizenship, they can legally work and go
about their lives without fear of deportation.
In Oregon, lawmakers deliberated for
several months before deciding in January
2013 that Dreamers would also be
permitted to drive.
Fatima, Manuel and Joseluis are just
three of roughly 12,000 undocumented
immigrants in Oregon to be granted DACA
status, according to U.S. Citizenship and
Immigration Services.
To remain protected from deportation,
Dreamers must submit an application for
renewal every two years, a process that
involves a background check, fingerprinting
and a $495 fee. Fatima and Manuel are both
in the renewal process, with their statuses
soon to expire. They’re both confident
they’ll be approved.
On April 18, the day we spoke with the
three friends at Causa’s Southeast Portland
office, news broke that a DACA recipient
had been deported to Mexico in February.
President Donald Trump said April 21
that Dreamers “should rest easy.” He told
The Associated Press his immigration
policies were aimed at criminals, not
Dreamers. Just two days later, however, ABC
News asked Attorney General Jeff Sessions
if he agreed with the president’s statement,
and he replied: “Well, we’ll see. I believe that
everyone that enters the country unlawfully
is subject to being deported.”
Fatima said she’s aware her decision to
be vocal about her status could result in
detainment, as it did for Daniela Vargas, the
22-year-old who was arrested after giving
testimony at a conference in Jackson, Miss.
Vargas’ DACA status had lapsed.
When asked why she was willing to put
herself on the line, Fatima said it’s
important to speak up.
“It shows that we’re not going to stop. We
are going to keep fighting regardless. We
are not people who simply give up when
things are tough,” she said.
In March, North Portland resident
Emmanuel Ayala Frutos, 21, was arrested
and detained just two weeks after his DACA
status expired. He told local news media that
immigration officials told him they simply
wanted to ask him questions about his DACA
renewal application but then arrested him.
Neither Fatima, Joseluis nor Manuel
knew what exactly they would do if they
were deported tomorrow - they have no
memories of life in Mexico and little
knowledge of how to survive there.
“Imagining myself in that situation,”
Fatima said, “I would have no idea what to
do. I don’t know who I would call. I have
family in Mexico, but I don’t know them. I
was raised here in America. Everything I
know - my community, my education, my
friends, my teachers - everything is here.
My family is here.”
anuel was 3 years old when his
mother brought him from their home
in a rural mountain village in Oaxaca,
Mexico, to the U.S. His father had crossed
the border two years earlier, and it was
time to join him.
“There’s not a means to make money
there,” Manuel said of Oaxaca. “You work
hard every single day, making around $1 a
day, so it can be difficult to access
resources like food, education, healthy
water - what you need to flourish and grow
up to be a healthy human being.”
His family lived in Woodburn, then Bend,
before settling down in Salem seven years
ago.
Manuel remembered that when he was
approved for DACA status at age 15, he
thought, “Wow - my whole world just
changed!” He said most importantly, he
could help his parents with his new, official
identification card.
“I can show my I.D.,” he said, “because
you need an I.D. for everything, and
sometimes when you are undocumented,
you can’t get one, so it opened a lot of
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See DREAMERS, page 5