Life of an Undocumented Immigrant in the US of A
In his recent article in the New York Times he "comes out" as an illegal immigrant who has gone through life in the United States with a series of fake documents since he was 12.
One day when I was 16, I rode my bike to the nearby D.M.V. office to get my driver’s permit. Some of my friends already had their licenses, so I figured it was time. But when I handed the clerk my green card as proof of U.S. residency, she flipped it around, examining it. “This is fake,” she whispered. “Don’t come back here again.
Not allowing his immigration status to hinder his progress and living in constant fear his "secret" would be discovered, he managed to secure a place at San Francisco State University with a full scholarship; obtain a drivers licence; land a job with the Washington Post; write about Hillary Clinton’s position on driver’s licenses for undocumented immigrants; and even snag a Pulitzer.
Have a look at his new project "Define American", which seeks to change the conversation on immigration reform.
I decided then that I could never give anyone reason to doubt I was an American. I convinced myself that if I worked enough, if I achieved enough, I would be rewarded with citizenship. I felt I could earn it.
The more I achieved, the more scared and depressed I became. I was proud of my work, but there was always a cloud hanging over it, over me. My old eight-year deadline — the expiration of my Oregon driver’s license — was approaching.The issue of immigration is a hot topic in virtually every developed country (including Singapore) and cases like Vargas's identify the need for greater clarity and reform.
But I am still an undocumented immigrant. And that means living a different kind of reality. It means going about my day in fear of being found out. It means rarely trusting people, even those closest to me, with who I really am. It means keeping my family photos in a shoebox rather than displaying them on shelves in my home, so friends don’t ask about them. It means reluctantly, even painfully, doing things I know are wrong and unlawful. And it has meant relying on a sort of 21st-century underground railroad of supporters, people who took an interest in my future and took risks for me.
Have a look at his new project "Define American", which seeks to change the conversation on immigration reform.
I define “American” as someone who works really hard, someone who is proud to be in this country and wants to contribute to it. I’m independent. I pay taxes. I’m self-sufficient. I’m an American, I just don’t have the right papers. I take full responsibility for my actions, and I’m sorry for the laws that I have broken.
