I studied and worked hard all my life toward a goal that felt more like a dream because when you are undocumented, going to college is practically impossible. (Yes, I am an undocumented student at UF; I am real.) Despite that fact, I continued to push to be at the top of my class, continued to work toward my dream because I was determined to make it a reality. In 2012, former President Barack Obama changed my life and solidified my plans to go to college with Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals. At the beginning of my senior year, I was ready to begin my scholarship search and college application, but I was not aware that it would be different from my other peers. I went from person to person with questions on how to answer parts of applications, but no one understood my situation and exposing my status as an undocumented student was risky for my family and me. I filled out a Bright Futures application and went to meetings about FAFSA only to find out that I was ineligible for both. Although people did not understand my situation, I never lost the hope that Obama gave me with the implementation of DACA, and I finally received scholarships from my high school’s foundation that now help me pay for tuition, an opportunity that most are not fortunate enough to receive. In May, I graduated third in my class with a high school and associate's degree on my way to higher education ready to create a better future for myself and the world.
On Nov. 8, Donald Trump became president, and I cried for two days. On the third day, I ran out of tears, I felt numb, and I knew that my days in the U.S. were limited. My existence in this country was a ticking timer that I finally learned my fate would be sealed Sept. 5, the day Trump will announce his decision to keep or end DACA. Although the DACA program has given me safety and mental stability in a country where my community is constantly under attack, I do not fear its end. I am not afraid because I have surpassed the feeling of fear into an entirely different set of emotions that I cannot fully explain. How am I supposed to explain that I cry myself to sleep hoping tomorrow will not come? How do I explain that I see my friends and family every day thinking it will be the last time? Millions of people like me are forced to endure the pain caused by oppressors that believe they are worthless. If the economic contributions and advancements toward society from my community are not enough to make you see that they are valuable, that I am valuable, is the fact that we are humans enough? Because we are humans, we are not pawns in a sick game that politicians like to play to win voters and defeat their opponents, and we are not disposable items that help the wealthy advance to another tax bracket. We are humans and our lives matter. I remember learning about the Declaration of Independence that stated that every person was endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights that included life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I understood that I have the right to live without oppression, and I have the right to pursue happiness in this country, but at this point, I am struggling to survive. Ending DACA would mean the end of college for me because I would lack the resources to live on campus or drive myself to school. It would also mean that I can no longer work, which would mean that I could no longer provide for myself. Many people have families they will cease to be able to provide for or have lives they will be ripped from, but all they can do is wait for someone to make a decision they cannot control.
I often hear people say, “Your silence does not protect you.” I cannot afford to expose myself in this climate, but I also cannot afford to stay silent in times of injustice. I share my story in hopes that you will see a human, not a criminal, whose life is worth saving and understand that there are thousands of people like me. I want to make a difference in this world, will you help make a difference in mine?
The UF student who authored this column requested to be anonymous due to their undocumented status.
