I came to the U.S. twice. My immigration story is complicated, as so many are. The first time I was a newborn and my mom and I came on a plane and overstayed a visitors’ visa. The second time, we’d left the country to go to a funeral in Argentina and then, due to our immigration status, couldn’t get permission to come back to the U.S. So after two years of trying, we came over the U.S./Mexico border undocumented. That was scary, and I still think about those experiences. I was eight years old but I remember a lot about it. I was undocumented until I was eighteen, at which point an amnesty put me on a path to citizenship.
Recent Posts
