For as long as I can remember, I knew that my parents were undocumented. Growing up in New York City, so many of the people around me were undocumented I didn’t really know what it meant.
But, as I got older, I started to figure it out. My parents would tell my siblings that we wouldn’t be able to fly to see our cousins in Florida or even take a bus to another state because they didn’t have a state-issued ID. I have always feared my parents getting stopped by the authorities and then getting deported. While on the train on my way to school throughout middle and high school, I would come up with contingency plans in case my parents got deported. I would ask myself: Who could I turn to for help with my younger siblings? What would I do if I wasn’t in the city?
Read the rest here.
Prisma Herrera is a member of Atlas: DIY and is currently in her first year at Sripps College. Her article was initially featured in xoJane.com, and then was picked up and featured on Time Magazine’s website.