I am slowly and reluctantly beginning to write about my experiences not because I don't want to but because they are too immediate. It's not something I only hear on the news or in my distant past but something I experience every day, and as such, I need distance before I can write my way through it. I am ambivalent about labels and categories because they tend to box writers of color into definitions created by white academia. I am building an image for myself through my work that lets me navigate the complexities of my situation. I've come to see that as soon as someone talks about "Latino poetry," they immediately make it Other poetry. They see my work as springing from the outside even before reading it. Binaries used to define an aesthetic (such as: is it Latino or not) serve only to limit and exclude creative possibilities and emerging voices. It's wrong to think there exists only one form of Latino poetry. People expect me to claim allegiance to something I already belong to, something I already own. I am tired of having to explain myself and show my academic credentials to other writers (and people in general) in order to justify my role in the conversation. There's always the "aha moment" immediately after when they've decided for me that I in fact do belong and can participate in the conversation. Mostly, I want to challenge the idea that I have to defend something that is already mine regardless of how it manifests in my writing.

It pains me to think of how many other people feel trapped and helpless in their situation. It hurts that there are people who do not understand the complexity of being undocumented and spew misinformed hate, or unintended micro-aggressions. I'm the first undocumented graduate student to come out of Michigan's MFA program, but it means nothing if I'm the only one. There are others just like me in other programs and some applying for the first time who need to be heard. Graduate programs have a responsibility to offer diverse representation, which includes representation of undocumented voices. Programs nationwide need to realize that they privilege those who are already privileged in life by cloning the same kinds of cohorts year after year. They need to acknowledge the fact that academia is modeled after the same systems of power that exist outside the classroom and it should be their priority to work to reverse it.

Recently everyone has been listening to the crisis of child refugees at the border, but there have always been children coming to the border. I was one of those children who was forced to make the best of my situation. I am certainly not alone, and mine is not a unique experience. Many do a lot more with a lot less. After 21 years of hiding, of negotiating how I speak, what I write, and even how I present myself, I will finally appear for an immigration interview this month. I will hold up my right hand and swear to many things. I know that there are many other people who need and deserve this interview more than I do. I won't celebrate because friends and family are still struggling, and when the interviewer shakes my hand to congratulate me and says, "Welcome to the United States," I will reply, "I've always been here."