Through Immigrant Eyes

Somehow a different

skin color, food, language, and culture

equates to people who “don’t belong”

Sometimes we are called

Ethnic or foreign

But worse are the assumed labels:

illegal, criminal, alien

I’m asking for a pause

In the absurd accusations,

And to Look at America

Through Immigrant Eyes

To complete this project, I looked at America through the eyes of my Grandma- a woman who immigrated here with her children. Through the eyes of my Mom- who was brought here at a young age. Through the eyes of my older sister, Araceli, who has spent her life calling the US her home. And through my own eyes- the daughter of immigrants and the first natural born citizen in our family.

Grandma: Maria Guadalupe Nepita

She arrived In 1985 nervous and excited

Ready to start over, running away from poverty and violence

One of her first memories here was

Going to the grocery store and attempting to buy cereal

But instead arriving at home with dog croquettes

Hoping the opportunities they have here will

Outweigh the cruelty they’ll face

“Sometimes I pretend I don’t speak English” she admitted

In avoidance of the ignorance in our area

Sick of the assimilation trying to erase a rich history of culture and colors

I pressed on, “what are immigrants in America Ama?”

“Minority equates to worthless, we are nothing to them”

It hurt me to hear how she’s

Affected by discrimination, by everyday racial slurs

it’s no wonder she refused to tell me her worst memory here

Because what immigrants face at times is too horrifying to put into words

She went on,

“We do not steal and it’s not our fault when things go wrong. We are not criminals.”

She works 60 hour weeks that lead to taxing pains and aches

All to be accused of stealing jobs and tearing down the economy (Chapter 2015, September 28).

She wishes Americans understood that “Most of us- no matter where we immigrated from- aren’t bad”

When I asked if she was happy here

She sighed, smiled and said sometimes

Sister- Araceli Guadalupe Garcia

One of her first memories in the US- it doesn’t have to do with cereal-

is hugging her kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Lockhart-

Who taught her the basics of the English language- along with Dora

Araceli spent over 2 of her teen years in Mexico, yet her favorite memory

Is the day she came back into the US- cheering and crying because she was finally home

Her worst memory here was at age 6:

We saw a huge line of traffic with blue and red police lights at the front

We know now that this indicated an immigration checkpoint

Our dad made a U-turn and drove away from the lights

Confused about the frantic expression on his face, we let it go

But not long after, he picked up his things and left to Mexico

Avoiding deportation by leaving voluntarily

Never to come back again

Araceli is currently Working on her bachelors nursing degree at Wilson College

In her words, she’s here because she belongs here and is

only a benefit to the United States, not a hindrance as others might think

Over time Araceli has learned that not everyone hates immigrants

Aside from ICE raids in our area, many community members appreciate immigrants

That said, she would change people’s views who see immigrants as a threat

Her dream is to help Americans, not hurt

So she continues studying

Hoping to make something of the work put into building up a home from nothing

My big sister is beyond happy in the US despite tough situations for immigrants

She loves who she is becoming

Me: Elizabeth Garcia

I am the first person in my family born in the United States,

But not the first to call it home

I learned what a social security number was before I learned how to divide

9 digits that made the difference between me and my best friend

9 digits I can rely on for a job, a license, admission to college,

9 digits that may give me citizenship, but not respect

Though I learned early what an immigrant is

I will never understand what an alien is

Because I cannot grasp the concept of

Comparing people to extraterrestrials

We look at aliens

And think they are strange, other-worldly, sometimes evil

We portray them as trespassers but tell me

In a cloud of political correctness,

When did it become okay to vilify immigrants?

There are so many small details

I wish you could see

The way my grandma’s face lit up when I showed her my cactus tattoo

Because she knew I was honoring my roots, while blossoming in our new home

I wish you could see

The tears in my mom’s eyes when I told her I’d be attending college on a full ride scholarship

Because her years of struggling are paying off *picture*

I wish you could see

The smile in my mirror when I realize I am proud to be a Mexican-American daughter of immigrants

Because labels don’t encompass all that we are nor

carry the weight of all that my family has been through

But maybe now, you can begin to see through the eyes of a modern immigrant family in America

So before any labels

Immigrants are people

And before any politics

Remember humanity

I will NEVER meet a person more resilient than an immigrant

Nor a superhero stronger than the 4 woman I talked about today

References

Chapter 4: U.S. Public Has Mixed Views of Immigrants and Immigration. (2015, September 28). Retrieved from http://www.pewhispanic.org/2015/09/28/chapter-4-u-s-public- has-mixed-views-of-immigrants-and-immigration/

Jimeno, R. (2012). Diane D. Blair Center of Southern Politics & Society. Retrieved May 5, 2018, from https://blaircenter.uark.edu/polling-data-reports/2012-poll/the-immigration-divide/