Foreword

The book by Josefina Vázquez Mota, We the DREAMers: Life Stories of Visionary Young Undocumented Immigrants, is a love letter to some of the most inspired leaders and activists of our time. Significantly, more than a decade ago, former President Vicente Fox referred to Mexicans residing abroad as “national heroes.” Then president of the Colegio de la Frontera Norte, Dr. Jorge Santibáñez, corrected him by saying they were instead, “actors in a national tragedy.” The massive migration of Mexicans to the United States in the 1990s serves as a backdrop to the story told in We the DREAMers, the moment when many Mexicans decided to try their luck on the other side of the border, fleeing the economic crisis at home. Those Mexicans are, in the words of one of the mothers quoted in this book, “the original dreamers.”

Lacking the channels to legally migrate, they took their chances in the most dangerous crossing: by land. Many carried their belongings with them in precious bundles tied up in cloth, led by a “trustworthy” coyote or taken across the border with a passport belonging to a cousin or neighbor. Most of them found work and began to invest in a life in the United States. The years went by. Without the opportunity to legalize their status, they stayed on, paradoxically trapped by a borderline designed to exclude them. No one imagined that thirty years would pass after the 1986 amnesty (Immigration Reform and Control Act) and there would still be no place to wait in line, or any way to get “papers.” For heads of family, this prolonged limbo lasted more than they expected, but it was not completely surprising. When they migrated, they knew the risks they were taking and the precariousness of working “under the table” or “off the books.” Generally their employers didn’t care about their status, because there was plenty of work for everyone. They raised their children, however, with different and new expectations, aspirations that could never have been imagined in the towns and villages they came from: “work hard and you’ll be able to go to college; you can become a professional; you’ll be able to get ahead.” They instilled in their children an ethos based on a meritocracy of hard work, perseverance, and diligence. Their children, for the most part, began to excel. Studies such as the brilliant book by Angela Valenzuela, Subtractive Schooling, tell us that those who migrate as children often surpass their contemporaries born in the United States. This is what Dr. Robert Smith, professor at the City University of New York, calls “the immigrant family deal”; when parents say to their kids: “I’ve sacrificed everything for you to get ahead, so you don’t have to do the work that I do; I work for you to study.”

However, the deal is not always honored. Despite hard work, desire, and dedication, many young people, an entire generation born in Mexico and raised in the United States, realized they did not have papers and that without them, they were not going to be able to go to university, to receive financial aid, or to work in their field of study. Faced with this obstacle, some graduated from high school and went on to college, and continued, still without options, to master’s degrees, medical or law school, doctorates … Others, discouraged, dropped out and took on the same jobs as their parents, washing dishes or making pizzas. Some, given their bilingual ability, found work as managers or supervisors in the same factories or restaurants where their parents worked. The United States did not fulfill its part of the bargain: the emphasis on hard work was twisted and used as a tool against immigrants. Anti-immigrant sentiment in the country grew to shocking and offensive levels. Frustrated, many young people began to devote their energies to collective action, to activism, and a nationwide movement was born.

The proposal for the DREAM Act bill (Development Relief and Education for Alien Minors Act) was presented to Congress every year from 2000 to 2010. Designed as a path to legalization, specifically for young students, it would protect them from deportation and give them a path to citizenship. Unfortunately, it was never passed. Wearing T-shirts with the words “undocumented, unafraid and blameless,” the young people came out from the shadows in Chicago in 2010, openly declaring their status and promoting action on a national level. They wagered they would be safer out in the open than hidden in the shadows. Many proudly wore their graduation robes, to draw attention to their good grades and academic qualifications as another reason to give them a path to legalize their status. But the merit-based discourse began to work against them. The same legislators who backed the DREAM Act sought to deport the parents of these students, saying the young people did not break the law because they were brought as children, but the adults had violated it. And so, the dreamers were characterized as innocents, but their parents were criminals. Some young people began to reject the merit-based discourse and the DREAM Act itself, making a call for a legalization of all undocumented individuals and promoting the end of arrests and deportation under the Ni uno Más (Not1More) campaign. They refused to criminalize their parents. They rejected the idea that their parents had broken the law, whereas they were innocent. They chanted: “No human being is illegal!”

Their tactics became bolder: crossing the border into Mexico and going back over it, asking for permission to “go home.” They even infiltrated detention centers and held sit-ins in the street interlocking their arms to block buses taking immigrants to these centers. They also occupied President Obama’s campaign offices and it seems he listened to them. After making a veiled call for activism, when his spokesperson Cecilia Muñoz, former director of the National Council of La Raza (NCLR), explained the president executes the law and only the legislature can change it, Obama began to explore the option of an executive action. On a national level, activists demanded he use his authority, insisting the president could halt the deportations and detentions with the flourish of his pen. Finally, in 2012 President Obama announced Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals or DACA: protection from deportation, permission to work and to have access to driver’s licenses for immigrants who crossed the border before the age of sixteen and who had not yet turned thirty-one.

Despite the fact this meant a victory for activists, many responded with caution. Many were excluded: those who were not in school or had left it, those who were older or younger than the ages mentioned, those who had fallen into the criminal justice system, and more importantly, their parents. Many were afraid to apply, wrongly thinking it was a trap, that they would be deported, or that whoever succeeded Obama would use the DACA registry as a list of deportable individuals. Nevertheless, many trusted it and requested entry into the program, and for the first time many of those documented in DACA could work “on the books” and in the professions they studied; they could drive and stop fearing the threat of deportation. Many activists expressed their weariness after years of struggle, and activism quieted down.

Then President Obama continued the initiative to sign an extension for DACA adding DAPA, for the parents of children who were citizens. Again, many people complained it wasn’t enough, but their criticism was nullified when a judge in Texas issued a preliminary injunction blocking the program, a status that remains in force despite a number of appeals until the federal Supreme Court makes a ruling on the case. For now, parents and families continue to wait. They still live in limbo. They are still trapped in the “gilded cage.”

In this book Josefina Vázquez Mota focuses on the DREAMers, placing emphasis on the words and personal histories of these individuals. In contrast to most of the publications on this subject (which continues to be of more or less recent interest), the author of this book listens more than speaks. She has always said people forget facts and statistics, but they never forget a personal story. Life stories predominate here. We can learn about the tremendous diversity of DREAMers and their stories—ranging from the young man who studied at Harvard and the other who left school and almost committed suicide when faced with the desperation of seeing his options limited. Vázquez Mota provides an expert overview of the legal situation experienced by many DREAMers and their families, and she offers key statistics and data, presented in an interesting and accessible way, although she concentrates even more on the emotional toll on students when they face barriers they never imagined. Most of them were unaware of their immigration status and what it implied until they finished high school. Because undocumented youngsters have the right to study in public schools until they finish high school, when they want to go to college they begin to face obstacles. Paradoxically for many of them it is precisely in the process of entering university, campus tours, and other activities designed to promote higher learning where they find out for the first time the obstacle implied by their status.

Josefina Vázquez Mota has distinguished herself for her love of fellow Mexicans, no matter where they live. She untiringly stands up for the empowerment and mobility of Mexicans in our transnational era. Whereas in the past some people criticized migrants for “deserting” their country at a time of crisis by dedicating their productive years to working in the United States, she is sensitive to the difficult calculations that families make in measuring the aspirations and dreams of their members when they opt to live in the United States, above all when they do this without legal permission. How many ­DREAMers and their families have been upended by different Mexican and American policies, unable to make totally autonomous decisions because of a broken immigration system? They fall between the cracks of regulations that govern educational qualifications, professional licenses, and residence requirements, and when the famed official stamp, the apostille to certify documents, is requested.

Many families represented in this book have tested multiple strategies: migrating in stages, returning to Mexico, trying out life in the United States again, seeking to apply their economic and social resources to the construction of an empowered life, and to unite their families. Vázquez Mota is given insight into all the fine details that restrict and emotionally charge the decisions made by families: splitting up families, delayed aspirations, leaps of faith that families take when they are largely unable to control their circumstances. Both in her philanthropic work with the foundation Juntos Podemos (Together We Can) and in her ongoing fight for the Mexican people, she promotes double nationality and naturalization. She unequivocally declares that Mexico wins when its people on both sides of the border are empowered with full mobility and rights. She advocates civic participation, urging those who can vote to become naturalized and to be involved in politics. She applies pressure on the Mexican government to do more for its citizens abroad—even if they have no intention of returning for the moment—and she is able to do so. Instead of lamenting the “brain drain” of Mexican professionals and entrepreneurs to the United States, she celebrates their enterprising spirit of innovation, their social commitment, and their generosity, because Mexicans empowered in the United States can lend a hand to those who follow their lead, to demand better bilateral policies and to contribute to their communities on both sides of the border, while their families fulfill their dreams.

This book is for the courageous, for some of its stories will break any reader’s heart, especially those that are a litany of closed doors and lost opportunities. Nevertheless, it is a story of perseverance, optimism, and social commitment on the part of young people filled with hope. Driven by the desire to achieve their own dreams, the DREAMers strive ­relentlessly to make the road less difficult for those who follow them, and to minimize the obstacles that face other undocumented young people and their families, while they campaign fervently for immigration reform.

Moving and inspiring, Josefina Vázquez Mota has traveled from coast to coast, visiting many states in the American union to collect the worthy stories of the DREAMers. We hope that someday they can fulfill their dreams.

ALYSHIA GÁLVEZ,

CUNY professor

Introduction

In the United States there are woman and men, all of them quite young, who came from Mexico when they were children: sometimes very little; they traveled with their parents on the same paths through the desert, the mountains, and the border passing to cross over on foot. Some had a temporary visa that allowed them to enter, even though they knew the possibility of returning was slim or nonexistent. Those children from ten, twenty years ago, today are seeking a better future in the United States. The profile of the DREAMer, the young immigrant, the dreamer who hopes to achieve the American dream, was coined from the bill for a law presented for the first time in the United States Senate on August 1, 2001. The proposal is better known as the DREAM Act, the acronym for Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors Act. The initials of the initiative gave rise to the name of its beneficiaries, the undocumented young people, the DREAMers. From a legal entity, this epithet has become a sort of temporal identity, a term that shifts and is redefined each time that one of them appropriates the word to share his or her history.

Mexico and the United States are witnessing the first truly binational generation: young people who are faster than any public policy and who represent the best of both countries. Their experiences are the starting point to open another chapter in bilateral relations and their impetus is the impulse to transform North America into a more competitive and inclusive region

The stories of these young people are highly diverse. Some came to the United States without birth certificates; others, depending on their age, stayed in Mexico for a while with their grandparents and crossed the border with a coyote or a relative to be reunited with their parents. Many simply went along with the steps and dreams of their parents without knowing or even imagining what awaited them in their new lives, without the least idea where they were going. In 2014 I visited several cities in the United States in search of local leadership to better understand the reality of the Mexican-American community and I met a number of them. This is how this book was born, from conversations in which these young people shared their stories with me. In many cases the process has been arduous for them, but they have managed to forge a reality in accord with their goals; in others, much more remains ahead, before they can feel all this effort has been worth it.

All the DREAMers have different stories on their origin and their family ties, how they reached the United States and how they maintained a relationship with Mexico. However, although they differ, they also share many points in common, whether they know it or not. It is impossible to generalize the personal stories and the experiences of each family or each DREAMer, but it is essential to note the many coincidences among them.

There are cases of adolescents who when they want to enter university find out it is impossible given their status as immigrants without legal documents. In this situation some even reached desperate extremes, such as thinking there was no reason to live. These reactions jolt anyone out of indifference. It is important to recognize their reality, which contrasts with some groups of young people in Mexico who have had countless opportunities to choose between limitless options and to achieve almost anything they desire. The contrast with so-called mirreyes, rich kids who flaunt their wealth, is brutal. While these young people with all the opportunities within reach squander their lives on frivolous and wanton ostentation, the DREAMers are eager to take advantage of each and every opportunity that arises.

In this way, telling the stories of these young people is a way of getting to know another community of Mexicans, a community that is almost never discussed, but is of the greatest importance because DREAMers are active participants in society. They are innovative, enthusiastic, hard-working, studious, and above all, they are responsible and aware of the role they will play in the future.

While I was traveling to interview the DREAMers, I would go over their stories in the evenings and I felt that my own struggles in life had been minor in comparison. I often thought about young people like Pedro Morales and the conditions he lived in as a child in the poorest barrios in Ciudad Juárez; his uncle used to beat him and sexually abuse his sister. For protection he had to sleep between fruit crates in the market and for food he used to sing in cantinas when he was not even twelve. He also thought about his stint in the maquiladoras—they gave him work because he pretended to be older to help his mother support the family—and in the offer he was given to work in the White House and that shortly after was withdrawn when they found out his mother had lied about their entry into the United States. Even today I continue reviewing his untiring quest to get work at construction sites to avoid abandoning his dream and to finish school. Even today I can say I have known few people capable of showing both pride and humility at the same time and Pedro is one of them. Not long ago he showed me his diploma from Harvard, a magnificent accomplishment he had just achieved. And he told me it was not the result of his merit, but because of the people who had supported him, and above all, with the helping hand of God.

When I think about young people like Pedro, I understand how the DREAMers are like warriors who day by day fight all sorts of battles without ever giving up. Each one of them is an example of courage and perseverance. In many cases, despite their youth, they knew their fundamental purpose in life and what they wanted to achieve. Many, after finding out their immigration status prevented them from studying in college, got work or a license, overcame their frustration and sought out support. They recognized their new reality and started over with more grit and determination, with the conviction they would never give up. This is how they began to create help networks and to promote change that has growing resonance with each day, because they invited other young people to join them in their efforts. Together, they learned to overcome fear and to seek institutional paths to find institutional channels to resolve their demands.

Access to opportunities has also depended on the city where they live. Although in some places they have found simpler routes to move forward, in others adversity and barriers continue to block their way. Close to half of the young people who can apply to DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) do not know about it or lack the resources to do so. DACA—the result of executive action taken by President Barack Obama to defer the deportation of young people brought to the United States as minors under the age of sixteen by their parents and wh

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