I’m a “dreamer.” This week, the Trump administration acted to end Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), the program that transformed my life and the lives of hundreds of thousands like me. But I’m not giving up. In fact, I’m suing. This president may think he can knock us back or kick us out, but this is our country, too, and we aren’t going anywhere.
I arrived in New York City with my family in the 1990s, when I was just starting school. I was born in Morelos, Mexico, but New York is my hometown, and I have no memory of my birth country.
My mom raised four boys on her own, working long days at a factory and evenings waiting tables. She sacrificed everything so my brothers and I could succeed. Mom always told me to work hard and get good grades — and I did. I loved bringing home my report card and making her so proud. I loved school, especially Social Studies and English classes. I wanted to read books from all over to learn about the diversity in our world, the richness of culture and the thousands of different languages spoken.