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By Jason R.
I can remember my little sister now, readying her suitcase, her things spread out all over the living room floor. It was the day that she was flying out to Peru —alone, at 14 —to visit for the first time. I remember how excited she was.
“Be careful and respectful out there, OK?” I tell her.
“OK, OK ― you already told me!”
As I carried her suitcase out to my father’s car, I couldn’t help but feel happy — proud, even — that my sister was experiencing life as fully as one should. Out of the four of us, she is the only one who is a U.S. citizen. My parents and I are undocumented and don’t have the same privileges. My parents cannot obtain a state ID or legally apply for work. They fear deportation every day. As a DACA recipient, I can travel within the U.S. and work legally, but I can’t vote, and I can’t receive federal or state financial aid for college. Now, with Trump possibly ending DACA, I can’t even take time for granted.
I was 5 years old when my family immigrated from Peru to New Jersey. I first got DACA when I was 16 years old, just in time to get my driver’s license like my peers. I graduated high school, got a job at a bank, was able to pay my tuition for classes at community college and saved enough to buy a car. I could tell that having DACA took a weight off my parents’ shoulders ― I could help support my family. For me, it felt like I might have a chance at a life here ― the only country I’ve ever called home.
Then, Trump ended DACA, and my life came to a halt. I was surrounded by my family that day. I could see they were scared for me and for my future. But I also knew we Dreamers and our community will stand up and fight back. The rallies and marches that followed Tump’s announcement to end DACA reminded me of what I had studied of the civil rights movement. We have to stand up to fight for equal rights.
That’s why today, along with other brave New Jersey Dreamers and immigrants, I am beginning a hunger strike. We’re fighting for our futures, but more importantly, we are fighting to make sure each of our families can stay together. We hope that by giving up food, we can show our congressional representatives just how important this is. Just how much is on the line. Next year, if Congress doesn’t act, I might not have Thanksgiving dinner with my family.
Trump is trying to sell a deal by trading us for our parents and our communities. He has said he’ll only let DACA students stay if Congress gives hundreds of millions of dollars for his deportation machine. We are not real estate. We will not be traded or used as a bargaining chip. We are standing strong for our entire community ― we want a pathway to citizenship for Dreamers and won’t accept any funding for the deportation of our parents and for ICE officers that terrorize our communities. We are willing to give up food, nourishment and comfort for our cause.
That day at the airport, I asked my sister to get ready to go to the gate because that’s where we would be able to say goodbye and allow her to wait to board the plane. My parents were happy that day. I can still see the smile on their face as they brought my sister to the gate. They knew that this day marked a new beginning because before that day we never had a reason to come to Newark airport. From the moment we got to the U.S., we’d always dreamed of one day being able to fly again. That’s why I’m going on a hunger strike ― so my whole family has the right to dream.
If you would like to stand in solidarity with Dreamers and all immigrants during this holiday season, please take a photo or a video and share it on social media #Fast4CleanDREAM.
Jason lives in Elizabeth, NJ and is a members of Make the Road New Jersey. Follow @MaketheRoadNJ.
