Forgotten Dreamers and Our Hidden Dreams |
by Sumana Kaluvai, Lead Director & Co-Founder of the Hidden Dream
When Mr. Shusterman first asked if I wanted to write this piece I was ecstatic. But I had no idea what to share with the readers of this newsletter. No idea where to begin. So by default, I guess I'll start at the beginning of my journey on H4 visa, and how I got to where I am today as an incoming law student.
I moved to America when I was two. My father moved to the US the year prior because he found a job opportunity and the following year my mother and I came on H4 dependent visas.
Growing up, my parents told me that I could be anything I wanted. It wasn't until I was about to be a senior in high school that I realized there was a lot I couldn't do because of my immigration status.
The first time I found out about a restriction due to my visa was when I went behind my parent's back and secured a job as an ice-cream scooper. However, when I asked my parents for help with filling out the employment paperwork, they looked at me with blank eyes and said " I am not allowed to work, because I don't have a work permit". That was my first time hearing the words, "work permit", "EAD", and "green card backlog".
At first, I was fine with the news because if the only thing I couldn't do at the time was get a job… that's okay! So I shifted all my energy into making good grades and getting into college. I finished my applications early. But when I showed them to my mom, she zoned in on one particular part. ‘Be sure to mark that you're an international student,' she said.
She explained that because of my H4 visa status, I was an international student and the selection process would be much tougher. And I wouldn't qualify for financial aid. She told me to prepare for potential going back to India for college. I was devastated. I thought I had done everything right to attend a dream school. Only to find out that some of my dream schools and majors did not even take dependent visa applicants at the time. |
This was the start of a steep decline in my mental health. I realized that every choice I made would have a huge impact on whether or not I could even stay in the country long term. It's like I'm always playing a game. And if I mess up once, I'll need to leave.
For a long time, I carried a lot of anger. I was jealous of my younger brother for being born here. I was mad at my parents for not telling me. But how could I be mad when they sacrificed so much? I think they were afraid of discouraging me. They were focused on me being OK in the moment, and they assumed it would all work out. The American Dream is so well marketed. And when you get here, it feels so close. Like if you just work hard—everything will fall into place. And I think that's what they always believed for me."
I am a forgotten dreamer, belonging neither to India or America. Even after more than 20 years of living in this country on various visas, I have no pathway to citizenship.
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Disclaimer: This newsletter is not intended to establish an attorney-client relationship. All information contained in this newsletter is generalized. Any reliance on information contained herein is taken at your own risk. All content Copyright © Carl Shusterman 1995-2022, All rights reserved |
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