A DREAM act appeal

Ianus · Ianus

I found this over at ImmigrationProf.

Quote:

Dear All:

As part of the National Dream Act Campaign, I will be going to Washington D.C. next week, September 18th and 19th, 2007 to lobby for the Dream Act and I need your support. Please read about "My Struggle for Existence" and don't just pity, wish or Dream... Act!

My Struggle for Existence

Today I ran into another of my high school buddies.
“Don’t you recognize me? I played the sax,” he told me. “You look different,” I replied. “I grew up!” was his answer. And then the same question that haunts me over and over again was asked, “By now you should be finishing college. Where are you going to work at?” followed by a, “You should work at National Geographic” suggestion after I told him I did not know what I was going to do with my B.A. in Literary Journalism. Victor, like Breysi and Yolanda, and all of my old high school teachers and peers always knew I would make it; after all, I was an honor roll student, the Band’s Treasurer, the French Club’s Vice-President, the Key Clubber, the Most Improved Runner in Cross-country for three straight years and one of the few who got chosen to benefit from all the selective UC Early Academic Outreach programs that outreach out ONLY to students whom they know are on the A-G track, and are what some people call “college material.” Ironic, the surface can be so deceiving. I always knew that I was different, that I was living a fairytale life with fairytale luxuries. I knew I had a disability: I was an immigrant, which is a disability bigger than that of my blind friend, the class clown or the trouble makers. I was an immigrant even though I rarely sat underneath the trees next to the ESL and Disability services classroom, where students would spend their time passing around love notes in Spanish while listening to their corridos on their walkman and exchanging chatter about their culture, their land, their Mexico. Yes, I had always known I did not belong in either world. I was neither Mexican-American nor Mexican, but rather something in between. Every fairy tale comes to an end at the last stroke of the clock and mine came to an end the day the last note of Pomp and Circumstance blew from Victor’s sax at graduation. “What!!! YOU don’t have a social security card or a driver’s license? I am so sorry,” the lady at the registration table, the movie rental manager, and the University recruiter suddenly began to exclaim, making me realize that I did not exist in the world I so deeply adored.

A couple of weeks ago, I ran into Breysi. “So now what? Have you looked for a job yet?” he asked. I must have sounded lazy as I replied, “No. I am not working. I am taking time off from college, just trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.”
What I really mean to say was, “If I had a choice I would be starting the internship of my life; I would be writing for a famous magazine in New York, reporting on real life and real people, changing the world by telling their stories; I would travel with the Peace Corps. But, hello! Everything is not fine because I have a degree. You’ve known me all my life and you still don’t see that I am still different? You know, I once thought that I was human, but only the U.S. congress and the president can fully grant me that official title. Can’t you see that no matter how many degrees I get, how many businesses I own, if I buy my multi-million dollar house, a Lexus or contribute a billion dollars to a republican candidate, that even then I will never be a full human being. I will always be considered an alien because I was born in foreign country. Of course you never realized it because it seems like I have always been around. But, guess what? I will always be considered a criminal who does not deserve any sort of reward for walking across the border with her one-year old sister and mother at the age of six. Oh wait! I forgot. An Alien needs a social security card to be legit, and National Geographic does not hire the non-existent. I will never exist or be able to live, as long as nobody does anything to acknowledge my existence. ” My friends will probably not accept the fact that I do not exist because they will touch my hands and exclaim, “But you are here. How can that be?” I know.
I am here. I do exist and I refuse to accept otherwise. I am human and have potential to do good things for this land, my home. I do not need pity.
Together we can change this nonsense. Write to your congress representatives, tell them of your amazing discovery. Tell them NOW as I head to Washington D.C.

Help me collect 100+ letters from Orange County, California and surrounding areas in support of the thousands of concealed dying souls who cannot wait any longer for the Dream Act to pass. Include name and zip code somewhere in your letter. If you are part of an organization and you collect signatures or send in a general support letter, letterheads will be helpful.
Please scan and/or e-mail letters to
ocdt@istillhaveadream.org or send them to P.O. BOX 1855, SANTA ANA, CA 92702-1855. You may also deliver your letters on weekday nights or weekend days to El Centro Cultural de Mexico at 310 W. 5th St. in Santa Ana. I need them by Monday night, September 17th, in order to use them in Washington D.C. but send them in even if you send them late.

Thanks in advance,
Antonia Rivera
Orange County Dream Team
Orange County, California
www.istillhaveadream.org

Tasksgirl · Tasksgirl

That was amazing.

Neil · Neil

Amazing story i feel bad though he's trying to get help in Orange County? jezzzz good luck with that (OC is Republican country and if there's something I learn is they hate Mexicans with a passion).

americandream · americandream

Including his letter in my letters to fax

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6	7	8	9	10	11	12
13	14	15	16	17	18	19
20	21	22	23	24	25	26
27	28	29	30	31

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A DREAM act appeal