By Karina Alvarez Espinoza

When I first learned about DACA, I was 13 years old. I didn’t really understand it at the time, but little did I know how much it would impact me. Once I understood what it was and what it could do for me, my parents and I looked for a way to apply. By the time I applied for DACA, I was 17. My parents saved up money to have an attorney process the application, and we spent so much time trying to acquire all the documents needed. We had moved around many times when I was little, so it was difficult but we did it. I remember it was the 2016 election year, and things were tense. I was one of the last few who got the chance to apply for DACA before they barred new applicants from applying. I always felt that I got lucky because of that. I had just received my DACA yet it was still uncertain if it would remain intact. But because of it, I felt like I could finally plan my future, even just for a bit. I got my first job, my license, bought a car, and started my higher education journey at the College of Lake County. Even though DACA was not a permanent solution, I was still grateful for the opportunities it gave me, the main one being alleviating the fear and anxiety I felt. 

Another opportunity presented to me was my ability to apply for advance parole, which allowed me to travel to my birthplace of Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico, just this past March. I put off applying for advance parole because it felt scary, but after the death of my grandmother, I knew that I couldn’t wait any longer. While I was sad I couldn’t go before her passing, I was grateful to at least be able to go and pay my respects and see family that I hadn’t seen since I was four years old. It was a great experience that made me reflect deeply on many things. I felt like I had a deeper understanding of how difficult the decision to leave Mexico was for my parents and how hard it must have been to navigate a new country alone. I’m now older than my parents were when they migrated to the United States, and I don’t know how I would handle being in a similar situation. While glad to be there, I wished my parents had joined me. DACA has granted me many opportunities to visit my home country and return. However, it is not enough. 

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While there has always been uncertainty about DACA, I never let it stop me from dreaming of a better future for myself and everyone. As I get older, I feel more gratitude for DACA and those leaders who advocated to make it possible. Their passion and drive inspire me to do the same. It is always the generation before us that sows the seeds yet does not reap the benefits.  And now, it is our turn to sow the seeds for the next generation. We must strive for collective stability, not individualism. The only way for all of us to move forward is to provide opportunity and stability to everyone, not just a select few. 

What will you tell the next generation? Will you say that you fought for them to have a better future or that you gave up on them before they even had a chance to do something on their own? I think a lot about the young undocumented immigrants who may be feeling so unsure of their move in life. I know I did, and I had DACA. It can feel scary not to be sure how to move forward, and these young people do not deserve to feel that way. Not only the next generation but also those who have been here for years, even decades. Don’t they deserve stability and opportunity? So often, we become divided over differing options. Still, we should not be divided on the fact that everyone, regardless of their immigration status, deserves to feel safe and have access to the resources to create a better life for themselves and their families. It is up to us, who have reaped the benefits of the sacrifice of others, to continue their work and strive for a better future for all of us.

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