“I decided on politics and economics to help people. To participate in social movements and not give my vote to all those cowardly politicians who for years haven’t helped undocumented students.”
Leo Rodriguez was around 11 or 12 when his father looked at him intently. He knew that his son loved school and was a good student. But this man’s life had been filled with sacrifices, hard work, and the stigma of being undocumented.
“Son, I know you like school and are a good student, but I want to bring you back to reality. At some point, the doors are going to close in front of you, and you need to be prepared,” he said.
These words weren’t very motivating for a sixth grader who had migrated to California at the age of three and had struggled with the stigma of being undocumented since childhood, learning English, and socializing in a country that cared more about rejecting them than accepting them.
Leo didn’t give up. He knew his father was giving him that advice to help him, not to defeat him. Leo kept moving forward and eventually reached one of the most prestigious universities in the country, UC Berkeley, where he is now in his final year studying Political Science with a focus on Economics.
Having DACA, the immigration relief for migrants who arrived in this country as children, helped him a lot. It was a significant boost, but not everything has been easy.
“My life has been tied to my immigration status. When I don’t have that looming over me, I do well, I’m calm, and I get good grades. When I feel that my immigration status is in danger, I get depressed, my grades drop, and I get angry,” says this student.
This happened last January when rumors began circulating that DACA would not be renewed. His grades plummeted; He had to stop and bring himself back to reality, and remind himself hat his education was the only thing he had, and he had to keep fighting.
Now, in the coming weeks, the debate about renewal will come up again, and that has made him feel anxious and fearful again.
“Yes, it’s true, having DACA is a privilege. It opens doors for you, but ultimately, being undocumented and only operating with a temporary protection puts you in a state of limbo, where you don’t know what will happen in the coming weeks or months,” he says.
” I was never exposed to computers; when I went to classmates’ houses or parties, I always saw them with them or with their video games. I just watched, hoping for a chance to touch them, to play for a while. What I could do was play with paper figures. Internet? No way! We didn’t have it…”
Leo is originally from Zacatecas, Mexico. When he was three, his parents decided that the whole family should be together; his father had already been in California for a while. So, they moved to San Fernando, where his father started working in construction.
Those were very tough years for Leo. Even though he was very young, a new country, no friends, and a strange language made the days difficult. The whole situation made him introverted. He took refuge in his studies and absorbed English as much as possible.
In San Fernando, he attended school until the third grade, but his father lost his construction job, and they decided to move to Ukiah, where he went to school until the fifth grade.
His life is very similar to that of the other students portrayed in the series that Parriva has published since last week. Traces of latent poverty, instability, and daily expenses are etched as scars in their memories.
“I was always aware that we were undocumented immigrants and that we didn’t have money. We went to food banks for clothes, toys, basic things. We had food, but it was basic. I was never exposed to computers; when I went to classmates’ houses or parties, I always saw them with them or with their video games. I just watched, hoping for a chance to touch them, to play for a while. What I could do was play with paper figures. Internet? No way! We didn’t have it. My job was to try to be like the other kids, and if I succeeded, I thought everything would be fine. It was very degrading,” recalls Leo.
“Son (his father said), I know you like school and are a good student, but I want to bring you back to reality. At some point, the doors are going to close in front of you, and you need to be prepared,” he said.
From a young age, he knew that despite being different, if he had his education, it would be his, and no one could take it away from him… “I’m going to be someone,” he told himself.
In addition to studying, his other great obligation was to be the translator at home, which caused him a lot of anxiety. “What if I make a mistake, if I say what they don’t want me to say?” he wondered.
Like with other undocumented students, the impact of being undocumented hit him when invitations to trips around the country or abroad began arriving at school or home.
“I only saw them; I knew I couldn’t go, despite my good grades,” he says.
In Ukiah, he also realized the limited resources they had when it came to uniforms. He would see his classmates’ uniforms and then his own. He had to wash them constantly due to their scarcity.
“It was a bilingual school; half were white, and the others were minorities. You could see the difference. My classmates were picked up by their parents in cars, while I walked home. We lived in a one-room garage,” he says.
His dad, skilled in construction work, found a job in reconstruction in disaster areas, which helped a bit with their income. No one talked about immigration status.
From his parents, despite the difficult situations they faced, he learned a lot. From his father, math and the universal language. From his mother, discipline, dedication, and hard work.
“To Newsom, I say: undocumented students won’t stop fighting. Our lives have been a struggle, and we won’t stop. Newsom was a coward; he first presented himself as an ally and then forgot us. We’ll remember when he wants to be president,” he says.
After middle school, other crises came; the gray cloud over his head weighed heavily. Being undocumented was a hard burden to bear.
“From being an A student, I dropped to mediocrity. My parents didn’t understand how I went from A’s to F’s. They even bought an iPad… hahaha… that we took many years to pay off,” he says.
That reality check made him reflect. His father, with the wisdom of a laborer, told him, “You can either work with your brain or your body. If you keep this up, you’ll be working with your body.”
“And that changed my life. I decided to live and navigate the American way.”
Now living in his third city, Kelseyville, where the family still resides, he applied himself more to his studies, but an uninvited character, with malice, arrived. Donald Trump entered the political scene, bringing with him a discourse of hate and questioning the continuation of DACA.
“I was one of the last to apply. Just a few months before they canceled it, I received my approval. Having DACA opens doors, but it also fills you with uncertainty; at any moment, they can take it away. I realized that beyond Trump and the politicians, the problem was me. I shouldn’t let my grades drop; I had to stay combative,” he adds.
He attended Mendocino College and later transferred to UC Berkeley. During that time, he was diagnosed with ADHD and met the mentor who changed his academic life.
“She took me to lunch with community leaders, and that motivated me. I worked really hard and began taking on leadership roles. I was even the only undocumented student to be part of the California Student Aid Commission, which had helped me; that was under Governor Newsom,” he adds.
That’s how he made the leap to Berkeley. When he received the acceptance letter, he started to cry; the door hadn’t closed; it was still open, and he decided to explore his voice. To fight.
“I decided on politics and economics to help people. To participate in social movements and not give my vote to all those cowardly politicians who for years haven’t helped undocumented students. To Newsom, I say: undocumented students won’t stop fighting. Our lives have been a struggle, and we won’t stop. Newsom was a coward; he first presented himself as an ally and then forgot us. We’ll remember when he wants to be president,” he says.
Leo wants to continue his studies in law school, focusing on immigration and education.
“I want to push out cowards like Newsom; we don’t need cowardly Democrats,” he says.
Leo still sees himself as that child newly arrived in this country.
“That’s why I love what I do. I always ask myself, ‘If that child were here, would he be proud of me?’”
Gavin Newsom vetoes a first-in-the-nation attempt to employ undocumented students
Write a Reply or Comment
You should Sign In or Sign Up account to post comment.