Migrant families
sacrifice for
American Dream

Migrant families sacrifice a great deal for the American Dream. Students participating in the Migrant Education News Writing Contest share their family stories about their particular sacrifices.

About 100 students competed in the contest. The majority of participants were from Yakima, and, in fact, all award-winners were from Davis High School. The first-place winner was Melissa Espinoza, who also won first-place in last winter’s contest. Winners were:

FIRST PLACE ($200): Melissa Espinoza

SECOND PLACE ($100): Isis Acevedo

THIRD PLACE ($50): Candy Gutierrez

FOURTH PLACE ($25): Jaqueline Manjarrez

FIFTH PLACE ($15): Jay Hernandez

SIXTH PLACE TIE ($10 apiece): David Guzman, Maricruz Sanchez, Bryan Bautista, Nuvia Chavez

Some participants wrote in English, some in Spanish, and many mixed the two languages liberally, which was OK for this contest.

Because some of the students who participated in the writing contest may be undocumented, ALL names in the stories printed here have been changed, and the contest position of the stories printed herein is not listed.

Not all the stories could be printed, and some have had to be edited down to fit the space available. Additional stories and more complete versions of the stories we have printed in the Migrant Education News will be available on the Internet at http://www.migrantednews.org

The deadline for the next Migrant Education News Writing Contest will be Jan. 10, 2007. The topic will be: “How obstacles my family has faced have made me us stronger.” Rules will be essentially the same as for the past two contests. Details will soon be updated at the following website: http://virtual-institute.us/contest.htm

SACRIFICES MY FAMILY HAS MADE TO PURSUE THE AMERICAN DREAM

By Melissa Espinoza

            Every sacrifice we faced as a family was only in hopes of helping us to pursue the American Dream. All we wanted was to live a comfortable life, live in a place were the determined poor could one day become leaders of their country, a place were everyday we would be filled with hope, a place were our future would seem brighter.

All we wanted was a chance at life. All of us dreamt the same American Dream. We decided as a family to pursue the American Dream, and as a family transform that dream into reality.

We moved from Cuba, we went hungry, and we finally reached what we thought was the unreachable. Those were the first steps towards our new life, journey, and American Dream.

            One of the first sacrifices that my family had to endure was the most important and memorable. I remember the last day I last saw my beloved abuelitos, relatives and Cuba. Little did I know I would be saying good-bye to everything I'd ever known, that day would be the last day I'd ever see them.

It was a rainy summer day. The early rain shower trickled beyond the stern sound of my papá's voice. My papá stood on the other side of our bohio with my mamá; I remember his voice sounded so desperate.

"No podemos seguir viviendo asi. Necesitamos ir de Cuba si queremos salir adelante. Aqui no hay un futuro."

            My mamá tried to console him, but she knew he was right.

            Just a couple of months prior to this conversation, in December 1991, the Soviet Union was dissolved. Its Communist government was replaced, and Cuba lost its most important source of aid. My family, along with the rest of Cuba's economy, suffered severely as a result.

May 7, 1992, was the day I said good-bye to my relatives and Cuba. Early that morning we packed some of the only possessions we owned. Most were not worth much, but the meaning behind them is what made them so valuable.

We each carried a plastic bag and an amuleto. The amuleto that we all carried read, "El corazon de Jesus esta conmigo" (“The heart of Jesus is with me”) on one side, and on the other side read, "Todo para la familia" (“Everything for the family”). We each carried it close to our hearts, as close as we held each other.

            I remember, as we sailed away, watching the towering Cuban mountains, the rolling hills, the gentle slopes and the broad sandy beaches become smaller and smaller. Soon Cuba disappeared and the sun gradually turned into the moon. Although no one said it, we all felt one step closer to making our dream a reality.

A couple of nights passed on the boat. We received the bad news our boat was lost, but soon we were headed the right direction.

We each became more and more hungry, our bodies became weaker as the days passed, however nobody complained. Food was sold in the boat, but we had hardly any money as it was, we ate what we had, which wasn't much.

On the boat my mamá made my brother and I practice our English, we had been learning English in school, but we had not learned enough to carry on a conversation. Nevertheless, we were determined to learn English to the fullest.

            Finally one day I awoke, and I could see it -- the land of opportunity, the land of freedom, the country I would love. I could see America. It resembled home with its sandy beaches and its salty ocean breeze, except this land could offer us one thing Cuba couldn't, a future.

As we got closer, my heartbeat became more and more rapid. I looked over at my papá, his eyes began to fill with tears. The tears escaped his eyes and trickled down his weak, yet valiant face.

That was the moment I realized my papá was my true hero.  My querido pappy was my hero, a hero who just wanted to give his family what he never had.

The tears we all shed were tears of joy, hope, and gratitude. Those were all proof we weren't about to let anything get in the way of our American Dream.

            We arrived in Florida. My parents had about $5 American in their pockets. Prior to leaving Cuba my papá had called a friend who lived in America. He had agreed to get my papá a job working in the groves, picking oranges.

We didn't have a house, so we slept in a tent and sometimes in migrant cabins, right next to the groves my papá worked in. My papá knew his job was only temporary, and it didn't pay much.

We then began to move constantly. As my parents worked hard all day for a pittance, we moved from place to place. My hermano and I transferred from school to school.

We went on many train rides, lived in many tents, and attended lots of schools. All of us pretended everything was OK, but behind our smiles we cried.

Finally my family had enough. That was not what we wanted.

We migrated to the state of Washington. We slept along the sides of the apple orchards. My family had decided to seek help. We were sent to a welfare office.

They helped us off our knees and onto our feet. Papá was given a job in the apple orchard and later was promoted to a foreman's job.

His promotion showed with determination and faith you could reach the unreachable. We finally had an apartment of our own, a real apartment, one with real floors, carpet, doors and walls.

I finally attended a school long enough to have friends, friends who also spoke Spanish and English. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

            Finally our dream was becoming a reality. Every good-bye, every train ride, every school was all worth it. We left Cuba, went hungry, and reached the unreachable. We had to deal with every sacrifice as a family, and that is how we are pursuing the American Dream -- all together.

We knew in order to pursue the American Dream we were going to have to make some sacrifices, but my family knew deep within ourselves that no sacrifice was too great to stop us from pursuing our American Dream. Anything was better than the life we had been living.

Every sacrifice we have had to overcome has only made us stronger individually and as a family. We believe that dreams are not fantasies but possibilities; and if you can dream it, you can achieve it. It is clear to me that every sacrifice has helped mold my dreams and me.

Our American Dream does not define who we are, but who we want to be. I -- just like my papá and my family did for me -- want to be able to give the world what I never had. And as soon as it seems like I have fulfilled my American Dream, I will dream another dream for greater than what I have ever dreamt before.

MIGRANT CABINS I USED TO LIVE IN

MY BOHIO

Family desperate to pursue American Dream

By Isis Acevedo

Para ti, ¿Qué es el sueño Americano? Bueno, eso no lo sé, lo que sé es que para mi familia era algo muy significativo e importante.

I remember that since I was around 5 years old, all we wanted and all we would talk about was “El Norte.” We wanted to come to this country desperately because of all the opportunities that people would tell us this country offered. We wanted to have a good life like every other family. We wanted to be able to eat something good everyday, not overripe food.

Mis hermanos y yo seguido nos enfermábamos de tantos parásitos que teníamos en el estómago, pero no podíamos hacer nada al respecto; no había hospitales cercas y si acaso había uno, no podíamos pagar la cita  porque ni el valor de nuestras pertenencias lo podía cubrir. Así que de una vez por todas, mis papás se decidieron y anduvieron pidiendo dinero prestado aquí y allá para completar lo que se necesitaba para pagarle a un coyote para que nos ayudara a cruzar el cerro.

Lo conseguimos con mucho trabajo, y digo “Lo conseguimos” porque el dinero que les prestaron no fue suficiente, así que tuvimos que trabajar todos parejo. Mi mamá cosía ropa ajena y servilletas  para vender.

Mi padre bajaba al pueblo todos los días para buscar trabajitos que él pudiera hacer en las tierras de los demás rancheros.

Mi hermana la mayor, lavaba ropa ajena siendo que apenas tenía 15 años. Mi hermano ordeñaba vacas de otros rancheros para sacar así un poco de dinero y yo, siendo la menor, de 10 años, a veces ayudaba a mi hermana a lavar o sino dibujaba y coloreaba en papel blanco y se los vendía a unas amigas que tenía en el pueblo.

Contratamos un coyote y salimos rumbo a Ciudad Juárez para esperar a que el coyote fuera a recogernos.

The smuggler got there around 4 in the morning. He commanded us to get on the trailer that he had and told us he was going to drive us until we could only walk. We had to share that little hot, plastic space with three other families with, approximately, five members each.

He drove for five hours straight without stopping, not even to go to the bathroom. For me it was like hell on earth. After a while he stopped and opened the little door in the back and told us that he couldn’t drive any more that we had to walk, so we gathered our belongings even though they weren’t that many and got out.

He gave us instructions on what we had to do, but he never told us what we were going to see or anything like that.

Todo lo tengo en mi mente, fresco como que si apenas hubiera pasado ayer; el desierto, las serpientes, la lama, las ratas, los huesos de personas, las cuevas y todo lo que tuvimos que ver y pasar. ¿Cómo olvidarme de todo esto?  No; nunca se podrá.

Mi mamá me decía que no íbamos a sufrir, que solo teníamos que caminar dos horas y estaríamos en el país de las oportunidades. Aunque no fue así.

We started walking like around 10:00 am. Around 5:00 pm I was already tired, the sun was burning my back, the sand was extremely hot, and the water and food was gone.

I asked my mom, “Mami, ¿Qué no me dijiste que caminaríamos solamente dos horas? ¡Ya hemos caminado por más de seis horas!”

She started crying and in the middle of her sobs she told me, “Eso fue lo que la gente me decía todo el tiempo mija, pero creo que no es así.” That was all she said in that whole day. Her feet were swollen and her face looked really tired. She couldn’t walk anymore so my dad had to carry her.

Mientras seguíamos caminando nos encontramos con mujeres muertas que habían sido victimas de abuso sexual. Sus ropas interiores regadas por el camino y uno que otro hueso por aquí y por allá.

Eso nos daba tanto miedo a mí y a mi hermana que casi queríamos caminar con los ojos y la nariz tapados por el olor tan feo a gente muerta.

Cuando se llegaron las 10 de la noche el coyote dijo que pasaríamos la noche en una cueva para que la migra no nos fuera a mirar con sus faros. Nos íbamos metiendo a una, pero para nuestra sorpresa encontramos un montón de ratas y culebras vivas que tuvimos que salir corriendo.

Una culebra de cascabel nos siguió por un buen rato así que por ese motivo no pudimos caminar, tuvimos que correr lo más recio que podíamos.

Acabamos todos cansados y queriendo descansar así que el coyote nos llevó a un túnel, que según él, estaba seguro.

Entramos, y sí, no había nada sólo tierra y piedras. Teníamos tanto sueño, pero a la vez no podíamos dormir de la hambre que teníamos y de la sed.

El coyote nos dijo que cuando amaneciera nos iba a llevar a un lago donde íbamos a poder tomar agua de ese lugar pero que iba a estar contaminada, pero en ese momento no nos importó como estuviera solo queríamos tomar agua.

Al amanecer, seguimos nuestro camino. El coyote nos llevó a ese lago, pero tenía cinco centímetros de lama, tuvimos que quitarle la lama para así poder tomar agua. Tomamos tanta que yo sentía que iba a reventar.

We continued our way to “El Norte,” not knowing what was next. Suddenly we heard a really loud noise, we looked up and there they were, Immigration, they saw us.

We ran as fast as we could once again leaving everything that we had, the bottle of water and the bag where we had our belongings, my mom even left her shoes there so she could ran faster. Thank God they didn’t see us no more.

Ya cansados, sin zapatos, con la ropa toda desgastada y sucia, con hambre y con sed otra vez, el coyote nos dijo, “Si todo sale bien, estaremos en Estados Unidos en 40 minutos, solo necesito que todos corran por más o menos 30 minutos sin parar porque este es un lugar muy fácil para que la migra nos mire y nos agarre.

Así que tuvimos que correr, no había nada mas que hacer lo que él nos dijo que hiciéramos si esque queríamos llegar al famoso “Norte”. Tuvimos que correr bien mucho, y lo malo es que el camino no estaba parejo, eran puras subidas y bajadas. Yo me cansé tanto que mi papá me tuvo que cargar en sus hombros por un buen rato.

After those 30 minutes had passed, the smuggler told us, “¡Lo hizimos familias! ¡Han llegado a su destino! Gracias por obedecer en todo lo que les dije que hicieran.”

Aunque no podíamos creerlo, era realidad, lo habíamos logrado. Llegando a ahí un primo de mi papá nos estaba esperando para traernos a Yakima. Felices de que lo habíamos logrado llegamos a Yakima; iba a ser una vida nueva, mejor, y llena de oportunidades.

My brother and I started going to middle school and my sister to high school. My parents started working in the fields, picking asparagus, then cherries, apples, and pears. They did that for four years straight.

We -- my siblings and I -- started learning English, which was hard, but with all the effort we achieved it.

After those four long and tiring years for my parents, they started working in a butcher shop killing cows. They did that for one year until my mom became a resident and started her own business. We now have a daycare where both of my parents work without having to wake up at 3 in the morning to go to the fields.

Gracias a Dios, pudimos alcanzar nuestro sueno, “El Sueño Americano”.

Family doesn’t regret tough times

By Candy Gutierrez

            I must say that my mother has made the most sacrifices in my family. When my mother was 16 years old, a man who had been in her town for only the weekend raped her.

He left without a trace, without her even knowing his name. All she knew about him was that he had a mole on his chin. That, she would never forget. As hard as she tried, she could not forget.

My grandmother, who happened to be a widow, assumed that my mother had gotten pregnant voluntarily. She thought the worst of her, and she kicked her out of the house, telling her that she was an embarrassment for having premarital sex, and never wanted to see her again. 

My mother had no other choice than to go live with her sister and her abusive husband, who did nothing but complain about my mother’s bastard son. It was hard, but my mother was forced to put up with it since she had nowhere else to go. 

Two months after my mother had given birth she made peace with my grandmother. Realizing that supporting her son was nearly impossible if she didn’t get a good-paying job, my mother decided to come to the United States.

Her plan was to make “fast money,” the American way, hoping she would be overwhelmed with job offers. However, her journey to the United States only brought her more misery, so she returned to Mexico, and brought my brother to the U.S. with her, hoping things would get better.

For a long time, it seemed as if life was just getting worse. My mother arrived in the U.S. when my brother was 1 year old. She had nowhere to go, so she lived in a mission made for homeless people for a couple of weeks while she got on her feet.

For six years, she had a hard time keeping a job because she had to take care of my brother.  One day she was swept off her feet, she fell in love and got married to a man she thought was a good person.

However, soon after getting married, her husband dramatically changed. He began abusing alcohol and drugs.

Although my mother was financially stable with him, she was not happy until she was blessed with a little girl. My sister brought much joy to her life, but at the same time, my mother worried because now she had a baby with this man who did not treat her right.

She put up with all the drinking, smoking, fighting, and his neglecting attitude towards my brother for three years. One night after drinking, her husband came home and beat her down to the ground.

My mother knew the very second he raised his hand to her she had to leave for her and her children’s sake. So she did just that: she packed their things the next morning and walked back to the mission with her children. 

Even not knowing how to drive or barely speak English, she managed to get a job at the laundromat and save enough to rent a small apartment.

At first it was very difficult to pay the bills and feed the children. She continued to struggle for her and her children but was happy to know that her children were safe and healthy. She saved little by little, and after three hard-working years, had enough to begin buying her own little house with a fenced yard where the kids could play. My mother was finally getting a little glimpse of the “American Dream.”

Life back on her feet was such an accomplishment, especially after all the troubles she went through to get where she was. She lived with her two children in her house for about two years and then began dating a very charming man.

After a year of growing in love with each other, accepting one another, and him accepting and treating her children like his own, they got married. A year into their marriage, they had me, their precious baby girl.

My father and mother have made each other very happy for the last sixteen years.  He has treated her well, and what was most important to her was that he treated my brother and sister like his own, which he always has.

My mother will never forget the bad times she went through to get here, but she will never regret doing any of it.  I, along with my siblings, will eternally be grateful for all the sacrifices she made to help our family pursue the American Dream.

Parents sacrifice so kids can succeed

By Jaqueline Manjarrez

            What has my family given up for the so called American Dream?  A better question would be, what have they not given up?  Han dejado todo, su pueblo, su vida, y todo lo que conocían.

            The first time my father came to the U.S. was 30 years ago, four years before he even met my mother.  He stayed with uncles, friends and various other people.  He would stay six months here and go back to Los Sauces, Guerrero, our home town, for the other six. This was even after he met my mom. 

Half of our lives were spent without our father.  He would send some money, but it was never enough.  Nobody ever makes enough from field work. 

Hace 10 años mi mamá vino a los EE.UU., y nosotros vinimos con ella.  Our father waited until he could bring us across legally. 

No creo que mis padres se acostumbraron a la vida en los Estados Unidos.  We have always worked in the fields all of us -- my parents, my sisters and I.  It is one of the hardest jobs available for a person who does not speak English and did not even finish school. 

It is sad to know that my parents sacrificed so much for us, para darnos una educación.  Even though we are in school, todavía les ayudamos cuando no hay clases.  We know the meaning of hard work. 

Some people have more difficulties than we do, and we have learned that our parents gave up their lives just so we, their daughters, would not have to work in the fields like they do.

            Es muy trabajoso mudarse a un lugar desconocido y diferente a lo que uno esta acostumbrado.  If my parents had stayed in Los Sauces, I would not be writing this. I would not have known how to speak English, and my sisters would not be in college like they are. 

I am very grateful to my parents; it takes much courage to do what they, and so many like them, have done. 

To this day my parents continue to work hard in the fields. However, I think they are proud of their accomplishments and of us. 

Unas gentes se olvidan de sus pueblos y de como era la vida antes de que llegaran a EE.UU., pero mis papás no. Una vez un amigo mío dijo que mi casa olía muy bonito, exactamente como una casa de México.  Creo que solo quería probar la comida de mi mamá. 

Mis papás sueñan con volver un día a su pueblo en México.  As soon as my little sister and I are through college, they will probably be on a one-way plane to Mexico.  They will have accomplished what they came here to do. 

Until then they will remain here, watching over us like they always have and making sure we have a better life.  I can assure you we do not intend to let them down.

Leaving families in Mexico a major sacrifice

By Jay Hernandez

“The American Dream” has been stated many different ways but they all say the same thing.  The dream is the opportunity to succeed in life.  Only America gives you the opportunity, so it is “The American Dream.”  People have made many sacrifices to follow this dream, and my family is no exception.

            The biggest sacrifice my parents made was leaving their families.  They came here all alone with no one to turn to.  My mom and dad were the first ones in their families to come to America, or leave Mexico for that matter. 

Since they were the first ones to come here, no one told them what to expect.  My mom and dad only knew they could have better opportunities for themselves and the family they were going to start.

            Another sacrifice my parents made was leaving their country.  They left to go to a foreign land to give their children a better life.  Being somewhere they’ve never been was scary, but they adapted. 

My mom and dad came to America when they were going to have my oldest brother.  They lived in L.A. for a year to make money -- and that was the only placed they had heard of. 

They moved to Yakima when they were going to have their second child.  I don’t know what made them come here, but things are not any easier. 

The only jobs they had were out in the field since they didn’t know English too well and did not have a good education. 

The sacrifice of leaving their home was big but in the end, they got a better one.

            They made those two big sacrifices 26 years ago, and they haven’t stop making sacrifices.  My parents have more opportunities now, but they still work hard.  Both of them have to sacrifice time with us to give us what we need. 

My dad has two jobs, and the only free time he has is when he sleeps.  The same with my mom.  I know this sacrifice is needed to get us by, day by day.  In the end we’ll be together and have all the time in the world.

            My brothers have also made sacrifices so our family can pursue “The American Dream.”  After high school they stayed home to help my parents.  Thanks to them, I’ve been able to succeed academically. 

Like me, they are going to graduate from college.  For my brothers the American Dream will come sooner than it did for our parents. 

All their sacrifices have allowed me to ease through life.  I haven’t had to make many sacrifices so far, but I know that will change soon.  Going to college and being on my own, I will start having to make sacrifices.  I will start my pursuit of the American Dream, and in the end I hope to say I got it.

            The American Dream -- everyone wants to achieve it but not all do.  People who don’t get it aren’t willing to make sacrifices to have it. 

I believe it’s mainly through fear of leaving their family, country, and giving time that they don’t reach for the dream.  For these people, they will never achieve the American Dream, and that’s all it will be for them -- a dream. 

The other people who do make the sacrifices succeed.  They all can say, like my family, that we dreamt the American Dream and we achieved it. 

In the end, I believe dreams need sacrifices or else they are just a thought and nothing more.