Anchor baby

As I reflect on this year’s election and all the things that Donald Trump has said about immigrants and Mexicans being “rapists, and drug dealers” I take a step back to look at my own family. I look at ICE raids happening in my city. I see Mexican Americans, and immigrants getting called lazy, while at the same time being labeled as stealing real Americans jobs. But my family always reminds me about why they immigrated to the U.S. and what the American dream really is.

My mother would regularly remind me that she was only able to go to school until the third grade. She would say “It’s not because I didn’t want to its because I didn’t have the opportunity to, I needed to work for your grandparents because in Mexico education isn’t a priority especially for women.” Every time my mother said this I had a sinking feeling like everything that I have done wouldn’t amount to what she did. She came to this country at 20 years old and had to leave my brothers in Mexico until she could raise enough money to bring them here. She worked cleaning houses, not knowing the language or anyone. She says “Sometimes I had really nice bosses who would ask me about my family while other times I had people who threated to call immigration on me. At one point, I wouldn’t have anything at all to eat or drink so I would drink the water that came out of their sinks.” When I heard this story, I was brought to tears because I was never faced with what her reality was really like.

I see the tears in my sister’s eyes as she calls our immigration lawyer asking her what she can do to renew her work visa here. She closes her bedroom door so that no one can hear her crying because not knowing her future in the U.S. is what scares her the most. She’s lived here since she was 10 years old and knows nothing but life here.  But still she continues to work two jobs and fight for what she knows she deserves.

My oldest brothers are now both married with two kids and both of them see a future for their daughters and sons here. They too had had their fair experiences with no one wanting to hire them because of the way they looked and because they didn’t speak English well enough. Their biggest fear is that I am growing up during a time of hatred because of where my family was from. They can’t help but to think how bad things would get for their children who are just starting school. They fear explaining to my nieces and nephews what a Donald trump presidency means to our family.

Finally, my father who is the strongest person I’ve ever met can’t even hide his frustration and fear. He jokingly always says “Donald Trump won’t be able to do anything to us so don’t worry, and if he kicks us out we can all just go back to Mexico.”  But behind closed doors with my mother I can hear their muffled voices about how they are truly worried. My father worries for his brothers and sisters who are here. He worries about my 2-year-old niece who is growing up in a world filled with hate towards her and her family. He worries about me because I have never been soft spoken about this issue. He worries that all the years of him looking for work and the years of building a family and a home for us is all gone. He is now 65 and he’s been in the U.S. since he was 18. He tells me just like my mother did that he would go days without eating anything but a tortilla with a tomato slice, just so he could send money to my mother and his kids in Mexico. Even with worrying about all this he still puts out a brave face as if he is not worried.

Lastly there’s me. A first-generation college student and as Donald Trump wants to call me an “anchor baby”. I always worry about my family and the Mexican American community as a whole. While at the same time, I am so proud of how we have been able to overcome so much. How we are getting more politically involved and how we are challenging the system. I have never been more proud to call myself a Mexican American.