Ed. note: I recently found this written piece under a “drafts” folder. I contacted Yazmin and asked for permission to post it. The original published or updated date was on June 22, 2010. All language has been left unchanged. I sincerely apologize for IYJL not publishing it earlier. Our website is ours to share and a platform for anyone to share their story. Of which we are always appreciative of and thankful for. – Uri 08/18/2014
Tonight I cried.
I cried my whole soul out.
Everything I read in the news told me the DREAM was losing hope.
Regardless of struggles, hunger strikes, risks of deportation, sit-ins, protests…
The only hope I had for legalization was vanishing,
and my voice was not loud enough to be heard.
I prayed my soul out to god, to give me a voice,
a voice loud enough for the whole world to hear and feel with their hearts.
I look to my right to see my 20 month old,
so defenseless, so harmless.
She who has no clue what is happening,
(she who stays up until 2am to see mom come home from work,
who when she wakes up cries, because mommy is already gone to school
and who sometimes stays up with me until 4am watching me do homework
just to spend a little more time with me).
I gently reach to touch her face with a shaking hand,
and more tears, from the bottom of my heart rush out of my eyes.
As I sit on the side of my bed at two in the morning,
I think about what could happen.
At the fear of been deported to a country that all I know about,
is that I can get killed by some drug cartel, if I happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
I would be gone, my ex will get my baby’s custody.
She won’t have anyone else.
Right then, I feel as though a bucket of ice water was thrown to my back.
He is an ex convict, a felon, (currently on house arrest for a different crime).
He abused me both psychologically and physically.
He goes around leaving pregnant women,
and then leaves us to our luck.
He has gotten all the support from HIS country: he is a US citizen.
I am just another illegal who has to scratch her own back.
Then the question rushes through my head again.
Isn’t this country all about immigrants?
I thought this country wanted successful people,
or at least the ones who fight to be successful.
-Yazmin, DREAMER from Nebraska