I was an undocumented immigrant in the country responsible for my expatriation. While living in a rat-and-roach-infested one-room apartment in the slums of Manhattan, my family and I received individual letters from the U.S. government. Dated June 21, 1960, the letters informed us that we were in violation of Section 242 of the Immigration and Nationality Act.
In other words, we overstayed our tourist visa and were ordered to self-deport immediately. We did not. Instead, we chose to live in the shadows, becoming what some insist on calling “illegal,” as if any human being can ever be essentialized as illegal.
Contrary to the pronouncements of the current highest office holder in the land, I never brought drugs into this country. I never committed a crime, nor am I a rapist. My fellow Latines and I do, however, have lots of problems, all stemming from the rising xenophobia amplified by this Administration as it proceeds to implement death-dealing anti-immigration policies.
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