Documenting That Which is Undocumented: Yearning to Breathe Free

I started this blog for two reasons: 1) to provide commentary on recent immigration-related news and 2) to document my life as an undocumented immigrant. The latter is particularly important to me. There are days when the frustration of immigration limbo is too much for me to bear. Sometimes, I simply need a release. This blog provides a forum for me to do so.

With that said, I will be starting a new segment, "Documenting That Which is Undocumented," where I can wax philosophical on life as an undocumented immigrant. Here we go:

In just a few short days, I will have lived in the U.S. for 21 years. Ironically, my mother and I arrived in L.A. on the 4th of July. I've been chasing freedom ever since.

Freedom -- I know what it is, but I don't know what it feels like. Even if there is a way to truly know freedom as an undocumented immigrant, I only know it as fleeting. The funny thing is that the older I get, the further away from freedom I feel. I'm 25, but never have I felt more like a child than I do now. I'm a college graduate and one more year away from being a law school graduate. Still, I live in my parent's home, ask them for money even for the smallest of purchases, and now, as I recently lost my driving privileges, I depend on them to shuttle me around town. If I was 15 that would be fine, but not now. Not now.

To lament about how my status has robbed me of my freedom would be to magnify an emotion that should be stored away in the farthest reaches of my memory. However, the reality is that I can't fight the feeling on most days. It's frustratingly ubiquitous. And I'm running; chasing this amorphous concept of freedom that has been both so tantalizingly close and yet dismally far. Fighting and chasing, fighting and chasing...

I'm buoyed by my uncompromising faith and the hope that immigration reform will come soon and set me free. But sometimes -- actually a lot of times -- I have to exert too much emotional energy to find that faith and hope. I've prided myself in being emotionally strong, forced to be by the ways in which I've had to grow up faster than most. Yet concededly, I'm vulnerably weak. I'm a human being after all, and I just want to be free.

...

I recently heard a politician (I can't remember which one) speaking about Iran on the Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer. In speaking about how America must support Iranian protesters, he emphasized that freedom is the great cause of America and of all Americans. He's absolutely right. I couldn't help but think though about why the great cause of America is not being fought in America for those that aren't free. I know what the political answer is, but it's not the right answer.

We're human beings after all, and we just want to be free.