activist

Ruth’s Immigration Story – Murehwa, Zimbabwe to Bellevue, Nebraska

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Childhood

Ruth was born in Murehwa, a small rural town 50 miles northeast of Zimbabwe’s capital Harare.

When Ruth came into this world, her mother was still in high school. Nobody knew her biological mother had been pregnant, so from the start, “Gogo” (Ruth’s grandmother), acted as her mom. 

Gogo loved telling folk tales. A lot of her stories, common in Ruth’s culture, were about animals with superpowers. Gogo’s usual tales revolved around a baboon and a rabbit, and in every story, the rabbit outsmarts the baboon. Each time the story was recounted, the details would change a little bit, and she always took forever to get to the point. 

“In America, kids have fairytale books, but for me, it was through storytelling. They forced you to imagine.” (audio below)

When Ruth thinks back to those early days when her grandmother told stories, she recalls the intensity of the stars in the sky. They didn’t have electricity, but there was fire. She would walk barefoot over the red soil to get water from the stream. It was a life of little routines.

Above: Ruth’s late mother holding her late baby sister, Chido.

Tragedies

Despite the positive memories of her grandmother, Ruth’s life had a tragic beginning. When Ruth was five, her mother died by suicide, and one month after that, Ruth’s only sister died from measles. After these tragedies, Ruth moved around between her mother’s siblings. Gogo tried her best to make sure everyone was friendly to Ruth, as she was often treated more like “the help” than a part of the family.

“I knew that I was so loved by this woman. I’ve had so many twists and turns in my life, but the grounding in my grandmother’s love is why I seem to be able to get through whatever.” (audio below)


Above: Ruth (on the right in red) at her cousin’s birthday. “I was serving them food – often treated like the help – exactly like Cinderella.”

Different

Ruth grew up in a culture with clearly defined gender roles, but she didn’t fit the mold. She remembers hearing from relatives that she must be cursed. 

“I was aware from a very early age that I was different in how I liked to dress. I was such a tomboy. They would try to buy me dresses and skirts – but they would be left untouched. I would wear the same pair of shorts for weeks at a time. Family would visit from the rural areas. They would be there for a week without any idea that I was a girl.” (audio below)

Ruth remembers the deep high school crushes she had on women, but it wasn’t something she would ever admit. There was no representation of the LGBTIQ community in Zimbabwe at the time, so being a lesbian wasn’t something she even knew existed. Her aunt had a gay hairdresser, but nobody labeled him as “gay” – he just “existed.” 

United Kingdom

In the late 1990s, Zimbabwe’s economy was collapsing, and many people were leaving. Ruth wanted to get out too, so two days after writing her high school exams in 1998, she was on a flight to England. Ruth thought it was a great opportunity, but when she arrived, the situation wasn’t as expected. She was essentially going to be doing housework for almost zero pay- they were exploiting her.

At 18, Ruth was young and vulnerable. She didn’t know she could have enrolled in Nursing School since Zimbabwe is a former British colony.

“When people lack information, they struggle when they shouldn’t.”

She managed to leave her “job” and went to work at a furniture shop. Eventually, she started doing “care work” – the common form of employment for Zimbabweans in England. Ruth began to send money back to Zimbabwe. She felt rich, but she didn’t feel accepted. 

Nebraska

Ruth’s aunt connected her to a friend, who had a friend, and this is what brought her to South Omaha, Nebraska in July 1999 – on a visitor’s visa, but she didn’t plan on leaving.

Again things weren’t as she expected. This friend of a friend was a “troubled soul,” with a six-month-old baby that she expected Ruth to look after. Ruth felt stuck. Luckily this woman’s sister came by one day, noticed that Ruth wasn’t in a good place, and took Ruth to enroll in classes to become a Certified Nurse Assistant (CNA).  

If Ruth had known, she would have applied to school right away and switched to an F1 Student Visa, or she could have even applied for asylum. Still, instead, her visitor visa expired, and she became undocumented. 

Ruth explains how living in the shadows wasn’t too complicated back then. She recognizes her privilege, explaining how she believes it would have been a lot harder to live “under the radar” if she was from Central or South America, or couldn’t speak English well. (audio below)

After graduating, Ruth started working as a CNA at a nursing home.

Abuse

At 21, Ruth met the father of her two children. It should have been easy for Ruth to have her status adjusted since she married a US citizen, but he didn’t have a birth certificate, which complicated things. Early on in their relationship, there were signs of emotional and physical abuse, and she regrets staying in the relationship as long as she did. “I was young and naive.” 

Audio: Ruth reading from her memoir about the day her daughter Chido was born – “the happiest day of my life”.

At nursing school, Ruth also developed a crush on a woman in her program, and she told her husband about her attraction to women. It was also the first time she had admitted this to herself. In 2007 Ruth graduated as a registered nurse. Ruth wanted to take her children ages one and three, and leave her marriage, but her husband wasn’t going to let this happen.

“I had no idea it would get as horrible as it did. There is nothing he didn’t try to do. When I look back now, it’s very possible he could have killed me because he wasn’t in his right mind.”

Ruth explains how, since all of this happened, her ex-husband was diagnosed as having bipolar disorder while in prison. She believes he is a different, better, person now.

Deportation

Ruth had a restraining order on her husband, forcing him out of the house. In an attempt to have her deported, he reported Ruth to ICE (The U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement). She ended up spending a month in jail away from her children.

“ICE agents showed up with guns and bulletproof vests at six in the morning. Luckily my aunt who had raised me from 10-18 was granted asylum. She was able to take my kids, so they weren’t thrown in foster care.” (audio below)

For the next three years, Ruth was in a different divorce or immigration court every few weeks. They finalized their divorce in 2010, and Ruth was granted sole custody. Because of what went through, Ruth was able to file for VAWA (Violence Against Women Act). The Vermont office approved her case, but the local office denied it. She is still in the process of challenging this denial and will be back in court in 2021. For now, she gets a yearly work permit. 

Her “Plan B” is to file for asylum based on the fact she came out after she left her country and homosexuality is illegal and punishable by jail in Zimbabwe.

“I have an amazing team of lawyers who have followed my story. I try not to worry about it because what will that do? In the meantime, I worry about raising happy kids.”

Ruth had been working in health care for a decade. After being arrested and detained, she no longer had a nursing license or a work permit. 

Cleaner

Ruth’s first girlfriend after her marriage had a family cleaning business. Ruth realized it was something she could do on her own after learning the trade from her girlfriend.

In 2011, Ruth bought a cleaning business starter kit for 20 dollars that helped her advertise online and listed the products she needed. Calls started coming in. Today Ruth’s business cleans for commercial buildings and big art galleries in the city. She also has had up to eight employees working for her.

“What’s most rewarding for me about the cleaning business is the ability to provide an income for other women, especially immigrant women.” 

She loves how the business is flexible, and she makes her hours. She also loves how it keeps her in shape. 

“It’s my gym. I love it. That’s how I get to look how I look, and I’m almost 40 – vacuuming those stairs!” (audio below)

Parenting

The divorce and Ruth’s detention were extremely traumatic for the children. She has taken them to therapy and tries her best to give them consistency and stability at home.

“That’s the thing about being a single parent. I have to be the affectionate one, but I also have to be the one who gives structure. My kids started doing their own laundry in second grade and cooking at ages three and four. I read about other people’s teenagers, and I’m like ‘oh, my God!’ – that’s just not my experience. I think all parents are biased, but Chido and Simba are such amazing kids.” (audio below)

“Not having parents gave me a different perspective. It’s almost as if I parent from the standpoint of if I had had a mother, what would I want my mother to be like for me.”

Ruth is starting to work on a parenting book since what she is doing as a single mom seems to be working.

Chido is named after Ruth’s late sister. She dreams of going to Yale, studying medicine, and becoming a “bilingual neurosurgeon.” She is already working on the bilingual part by studying Spanish at school. Chido never thought of herself as particularly athletic, then she medalled in cross-country. Ruth found out that her biological father was a cross-country champion, so maybe it is in Chido’s genes? Someday Chido would love to set up a foundation to help kids in Zimbabwe and buy a house for her mom. 

“I think my mom is really brave. She inspires me to do a lot of things I wouldn’t have otherwise done.”  (audio below)

Simba’s dream is to go to Duke on a basketball scholarship and play in the NBA.

“I like how you get to work with the team. There is no ‘I’ in ‘Team.’” (audio below)

Ruth says he is just as smart as his sister; he just puts in a little less effort. At home, Simba is the “domestic” one, making coffee or vacuuming. One of his favorite things about his mom is that she takes them traveling. 

Ruth’s other child is Hillary Clinton.

“I come from a culture where pets stay outside – cats are evil. If you have a cat, you are a witch. My kids have always wanted a pet because they don’t come from that culture. One client has a farm and the cats had babies. We fostered some cats, and then we decided to get a permanent cat. That’s how Hillary Clinton became a part of our family.”

Above: Thanksgiving Dinner with Ruth’s extended family at her aunt’s house in Nebraska

Racism

According to Ruth, Omaha, which includes smaller surrounding cities like Bellevue, is racially and socio-economically segregated – the north is black, south is Latino, the west is white, and the white liberals live in Dundee. Ruth explains how this segregation relates directly to how well-funded the school districts are.

“One advantage of being an immigrant is that because things have gone wrong in our country and we want the best for our kids, we don’t ask where the black people are, we just move to where the best schools are. Most black and brown people around here [in Bellevue] are immigrants.”

Because she grew up in a country with a black majority, she feels like sometimes she may experience racism in the US and not even notice it. To Ruth, “the system is invisible.”

“When I get pulled over, I am really nice to the cop, and would never think I am being targeted. I know if I were born here, my thinking would be different. In the end, it is a huge advantage. It is almost like I have blinders on.” (audio below)

Activist

Since she was a young girl, Ruth has had a love of writing – an art that seemed to give birth to her activism.

In 2012 she released her memoir: Freedom of an Illegal Immigrant. Her second book, OUTsider: Crossing Borders. Breaking Rules. Gaining Pride (2014) is a celebration of sexuality. Her most recent book is Indelicate Things: A Collection of Narratives About the Female Body Giving and Receiving Pleasure (2015). Today Ruth’s writing focuses primarily on memoir and erotica. 

Ruth has been using her writing skills to help LGBTIQ people who are living in countries where their safety is at risk. In at least six instances, Ruth helped write the testimonials, for individuals granted asylum.

“I try to be really visible as an LGBTQ African.”

Future

Her children recently got their passports, and Ruth is incredibly excited. They have big travel plans – Canada, South Africa, and beyond. They hope to visit a different place every summer. 

“My future dreams are making sure I am supporting and guiding my kids to be best at whatever it is they want to do – to accomplish their goals. Compared to my life, they have no excuses. They have every privilege I never had. I never want them to see themselves as victims in life. They have to take advantage of the opportunities they have. That’s how you help the world.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.

Isaías’s Immigration Story – Guadalupe De Trujillo, Mexico to Denver, Colorado

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Childhood

In 1992, Isaías [who prefers the pronoun ‘they’] was born in Guadalupe de Trujillo – a tiny town of 400 people at the foot of mountains in Fresnillo, Zacatecas. Isaías’s elementary school was small, and because they didn’t have enough teachers, the students would either attend at night or in the morning. Isaías remembers being incredibly poor, often being alone, and bicycling a lot – up into the mountain as far as possible.

Isaías’s mom remembers her child as being unique, strong, and intelligent while growing up.

“He could have conversations like an adult when he was a little boy.”

Above: Isaías and cats at home in Guadalupe De Trujillo [left] and Isaías’s parents sitting at home in Mexico under their daughter’s portrait [right].

Isaías’s father’s family had long been working on a big ranch nearby, which is how they all ended up in Guadalupe De Trujillo. Their family grew corn, beans, chile, and other produce to subsist. Over the years, the family’s financial resources steadily depleted as they couldn’t compete with cheaper imported corn from the USA as a result of NAFTA. They could no longer survive there.

“It was tough to live. Agriculture wasn’t good, and we were not making enough money to survive.” (audio below)

Family History

Isaías’s family has a long history of coming to the United States. Their maternal grandfather was a bracero (temporary farm worker) in the 1960s. He would go north, work the fields, and then return to Mexico. It was much easier to cross the border at that time. His sons did the same when they were old enough. Isaías’s two older brothers were inspired to try their luck in the US like generations before them. Isaias’s brothers moved to Colorado and started working in fast-food restaurants and later worked in drywall. The family was surviving on the remittances they were sending back to Mexico.

Isaías’s older brothers encouraged their parents to visit them in Colorado. It was supposed to be a vacation – a spring break trip on a six-month visitor visa.

“We left everything as though we were going to return, but we never did.”

Valentine’s Day

At eight years old, Isaías and parents crossed the border at El Paso, Texas, during the night on Valentine’s Day, 2001. Isaías woke up on the way and remembers being fascinated by the structure of the houses – in particular, the angle on the rooftops designed for the snow. This was something not seen in Mexico and previously only seen on the miniature Christmas houses from childhood which Isaías received in exchange for Coca-Cola bottle caps.

After arriving in the US, Isaías’s mom would make tamales to sell every Friday at the local liquor store. Isaías learned to work hard helping mom sell tamales. Isaías’s father [see the above photo] started working in road construction and has been doing this job for over 20 years now.

Above: Isaías with Dr. Sierra, the first educator in the US who got Isaías interested in learning

Adjusting

Shortly after arriving, Isaías started third grade.  

“I was placed in a classroom where I didn’t understand anything. I would often get in trouble for not following the rules, but it was because I didn’t understand what I was supposed to be doing. My teacher, who was bilingual, told me that she didn’t speak to me in Spanish because she didn’t like Spanish. In 4th grade, I had a teacher who was Cuban, and she helped me realize that what I was going through when I got here was not normal.” (audio below)

It was challenging to adjust to being inside a house all the time. In Mexico, Isaías was always outside and free. In Colorado, Isaías wasn’t allowed to go out alone. Their mother didn’t think it was safe, as, at the time, there were a lot of gangs in their Globeville neighborhood.

Above: Isaías’s father holding a photo of Isaías taken one month after arriving in the US. Isaías is holding a birthday cake their cousin made for them.

“I was happy and excited because, in Mexico, we never celebrated birthdays since we were poor.”

Undocumented

Isaías always knew that the family was undocumented; their parents never hid it from the children. Isaías knew they couldn’t get a driver’s license or a social security number and that working legally wasn’t an option.

“In high school, I worked very hard, hoping that by the time I graduated, I could become ‘legal.’ When I got to senior year, I realized that it wasn’t happening – that began my activism. I did not have the resources at highschool. All of the conversations on how to go to college didn’t apply to me. Almost 50 % of my class was undocumented! I realized they needed help.” (audio below)

The realization that undocumented students were not being properly prepared for life after high school led Isaías to help form an advocacy organization called “Keeping The Dream Alive”.

Advocacy

Isaías graduated from high school in 2011. It was going to cost between three to six times more for them to go to college than a documented student – so Isaías didn’t go. Isaías began advocating for in-state tuition for undocumented students in Colorado, becoming more vocal and meeting with state representatives.  In 2013, Colorado changed the policy, and undocumented students were eligible to pay in-state tuition fees. Isaías increasingly connected to people all around the country, fighting for causes related to undocumented youth.

Isaías feels like since the 1980s there has been a lot of promising talk by politicians with minimal action. Even with Obama, Isaías didn’t see their community getting enough support.

“Obama deported more of our family members than any other president in this country.”

Isaías started canvassing, signing up family members to vote, going on hunger strikes, and other non-violent protests such as ‘occupying.’

“I had nothing else to lose. I became very vocal about my story.”

DACA

Finally, in 2012 Obama passed the Dream Act. DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) allows undocumented people who arrived in the US as children to receive a renewable, two-year period of deferred deportation. After DACA came into effect, Isaías decided to take a step back from leading the community. As the face of many campaigns, assuming the role of “poster child” was a lot of pressure, and Isaías came to realize that it was all-consuming.

“I would get asked about my hobbies and I always said, ‘I don’t have a hobby; I organize.’ When I wasn’t doing that, I was resting.”

On August 15th, 2012, the day of the announcement that applications for DACA were open, the police pulled Isaías over for speeding. Isaías was heading home after the press conference – to gather paperwork to help at a DACA clinic. Isaías was not speeding. 

Arrest

When asked for identification, Isaías showed a school and a church ID, which didn’t satisfy the officer. The police officer asked: “When did you come into the country? When did you learn to speak English?” Isaías refused to answer because these questions did not relate to the alleged speeding infraction. Told to get out of the car, Isaías went to text their partner. The police officer took Isaías’s phone and threw it. Then they arrested Isaías, along with Isaías’ partner, who had arrived on the scene. Luckily, the office of the non-profit “Rights for Our People” group was closeby, and the director came on the scene to help.

“The cop kept asking if I was ‘legal’.”

Isaías didn’t want to answer any questions unassociated with being pulled over. The officer said they were going to call ICE, which Isaías said was fine. Isaías told the officer, “when I get out of here, we are going to sit down and talk about how you aren’t supposed to be arresting people based on immigration status.”

“I wasn’t afraid I was just very angry. I told myself if I end up in a detention center, then I would organize in the detention center”.

A year after the arrest, as promised, Isaías did discuss this with the arresting officer and the chief of police, who after the discussion, committed to better training for police officers. (audio below)  

Sister

Isaías’ older sister stayed in Mexico when they left in 2001 because she was already married. Isaías misses her constantly and says that she is the reason why their parents are physically in the US but mentally still in Mexico. It wasn’t until 2015, 14 years later, when the Mexican government facilitated a trip to Mexico for “prominent” activists and immigrant youth with DACA, that Isaías was able to finally see her again.

Above: The first photo Isaías received in the mail of their sister’s children who live in Mexico
Above: Isaías with sister before leaving Mexico [left], and Isaías with sister in 2015 [right]

“It was the very first time I was able to travel back to Mexico, after 14 years, and hug my sister. Because of the current US immigration laws, I am no longer able to do that and don’t know when or if I will hug her again.”

Globeville

Isaías has been living in the Denver neighborhood, Globeville, since arriving in the states. Globeville used to be a separate little town outside of Denver, where European immigrants came to work in the coal smelting plants. The houses are small – built as temporary housing for the workers, and many of them have weird shapes because residents have added on additions. Isaías highlights how 80216, their zip code, is one of the most polluted in the country because of the smelting plants. As a child, Isaías remembers the city removing contaminated topsoil, house by house, throughout the neighborhood.

People referred to Globeville as “Little Guadalupe” when Isaías was young because the population had become predominantly Latino. Today Globeville is undergoing intense gentrification, and Isaías sees the harm that results firsthand.

 “All the people that we knew are no longer here. The only people of color still here are ones that were able to buy a house, since rent has skyrocketed.”

The only reason Isaías’s family is still able to stay in Globeville is that the landlord hasn’t increased their rent in 10 years. However, the landlord has informed them that he will no longer be renting out the house. Isaías has an opportunity to buy the house, but it’s too much.

“My family is so attached to this neighborhood and this house. If we have to find a new place, we would rather go back to Mexico.”

Education

Isaías has been studying social work part-time and working at the front desk of a local charter high school. Isaías has been trying to transition into an advocacy role in schools. Through experience with organizing and advocacy, Isaías understands the importance of equal access and high-quality education for the next generation. (audio below)

“I get a lot of hope from working with students; they are hilarious.”

Queer

Isaías came out as queer in high school. (audio below)

“I was very proud of myself – coming out as both undocumented and queer.”

Isaías emphasizes how for many trans/queer immigrants who are undocumented, deportation could mean returning to a country where their security may be in jeopardy because of their sexuality or gender. A lot of Isaías advocacy has been at the intersection of trans/queer and immigration – bringing people together at this intersection instead of letting these two movements remain siloed. Isaías emphasizes how in the immigrants’ rights community, can be transphobic, and the LGBTIQ community can be anti-immigrant. (audio below)

Above: Caprio Sanguinette Park where Isaías goes to decompress.
Audio: Isaías offers advice to other immigrants in the LGBTIQ community

Strong and Honest

Isaías describes their mother as the strongest and most honest person they know. 

“I’m so thankful to mom. She was always very honest with everything we were going through including living in poverty. She has helped me by always being honest with myself and other people. Sometimes too honest. Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable being as honest as she is.”

While Isaías’s mom thinks life has been better for her kids in the United States, it has been harder for her and her husband. She is tired of how hard her husband’s job is on him.

“My future isn’t in the US, it is in Mexico. My main hope is to look after my kids, and I won’t be able to see them if I’m there. It is really sad. It would be hard to leave them.” (audio below)

Her dream is for Isaías to graduate from university. She understands how hard it is for Isaías to do that since they have to work to help support the family.

*Update: Since the time of the interview, Isaías has returned to community organizing for immigrant student rights, and to remove educational barriers for students of color. They are currently the Operations Manager & Executive Assistant for Padres & Jóvenes Unidos. Isaías’s family’s house was placed on the market, and they had to move out. The family was able to stay in Globeville but now they are paying four times more in monthly rent.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Janice May & Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.

Laura’s Immigration Story – Tegucigalpa, Honduras to Wilmington, Delaware

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Childhood

Laura grew up in La Ceiba on the northern coast of Honduras where she lived until the age of nine. From an early age, Laura had a love for dance and performance.

Above: Laura dressed as Wonder Woman for Halloween

Laura’s father is Colombian, and her mother Honduran. Her parents were both doctors, so her family was financially secure. She remembers walking up and down La Ceiba’s town square, going to the Pizza Hut and movie theatre.

Laura started learning English in the first grade at a bilingual school and, over time, she competed in English competitions at the national level. Once, she came in second place in the entire country.

“I was really sad because I lost to a boy. The word that got me out was “clothes” plural. I think I spelled “cloths.”

Above: Second-grade school picture at Saint Teresa’s Bilingual School

United States

Laura’s parents had wanted to move to the United States long before Laura or her sister were born. Her father had family living in the US, and he began the immigration paperwork in 1985, the year her older sister was born. 

Laura remembers her parents sitting her and her sister down to tell them they were going to be moving to the United States. Laura was nine, and her sister was 12.

“I didn’t know why, but I felt it was the end of my life.”

Above: Vanessa, a childhood friend, who Laura lost touch with, gave her this box shortly before she left Honduras. “It’s one of the few things I brought with me.”

Looking back on it, Laura understands the opportunities presented by their move to the US. Her parents could see that their country was moving in the wrong direction politically.

“It was dangerous in Honduras, and because my parents were doctors, they were part of the minority that was financially well off. Several times they tried to break into our house. My dad had to keep a gun. We had to get a guard to sit outside and watch the house at night. Our maid was held up at gunpoint.” (audio below)

Florida

In June 1997, they flew to Orlando, where her uncle and grandparents were living. They had to do all the paperwork, fingerprinting, and photos to get green cards. 

“I was really scared. I was a nine-year-old kid in this room full of people that don’t look anything like your people – all very serious-looking men who looked like cops. They all were in uniform wearing a belt with stuff on it, official and scary, and already you feel like you are imposing. When we finally got out of that which took hours and hours, we got our cards that said ALIEN on them. I remember that card.” (audio below)

Laura’s uncle picked them up from the Orlando airport.

 “We were in the backseat with my cousin. She said ‘put your seat belts on!’ My sister and I looked at each other then replied, ‘Why?’ She said, ‘because it is the law’! It was one of those culture shocks. In Honduras, people didn’t wear seatbelts. Now when I get in the car, it feels so strange if I don’t have my belt on.” (audio below)

Laura and her family lived at her grandparents’ two-bedroom apartment right behind Universal Studios. Her grandfather and aunt worked at Disney, a place “every Floridian gets tired of in the end.” Disney ended up playing a prominent role in their introduction to the USA.

Above: Laura and her sister at Disney, one week after they arrived in the United States. “You can see we were all about the American spirit with our clothes and our hats.”

Hell

Laura’s first year in Orlando was “hell.” She was in fourth grade, and although she could speak English, she didn’t feel like she belonged.

“I didn’t have the slang – all the things the cool kids were saying. I didn’t fit in with any crowd and only had two friends – a Chinese girl and a Pakistani boy. We were the outcasts in the class. I didn’t want to go to school because I didn’t enjoy it; I couldn’t wait for the day to be over. It was hard.”

Above: The family at Grandma’s in Orlando on Laura’s Dad’s Birthday. “He always gets a chocolate cake for his birthday.”

At the end of that first year, her father got a job in Miami, and they moved there in 1998. In Miami, Laura fit in, as three-quarters of her classmates were Hispanic. She stayed in Florida for more than a decade.

Delaware

Laura came to Delaware in 2011, to get her Ph.D. in Sociology. The University of Delaware offered her a scholarship, so she decided to go to a state where she had neither heard of nor visited. Laura explains how northern Delaware, where she lives, is more metropolitan and populated. In contrast, the south, an area she doesn’t know well, is more rural and empty.

Laura describes Wilmington as a complicated city, with a strange history that has led to a lot of social issues. Segregation, gerrymandering, poor urban planning, gang violence, drug trafficking, and murder – nicknamed “Murder Town USA.”

“There are parts of Wilmington that are incredibly wealthy with million-dollar homes, then you drive four blocks, and you have broken windows. It is bizarre.”

Above: Laura’s backyard is a place where she can relax and imagine that she is back in Honduras

Laura also sees Wilmington as a special place with artistic people full of passion and with big hearts, all working towards the betterment of the community.

“People who grew up here will defend this place until the day they die. Recently I was having a conversation with somebody, and they were talking down Wilmington, and I found myself defending Wilmington. I never thought I would call myself a Wilmingtonian, but I must like this place. I think there is a lot of struggle here, but also a lot of knowledge and wisdom.” (audio below)

Latin American Community Center

Laura works at the Latin American Community Center as the Manager of Prevention and Advocacy. At the Center, she has worked with families in the community on issues like HIV, drug and alcohol addiction and recovery, as well as financial literacy.

“We do a little bit of everything. It is a non-profit, so we all wear a lot of different hats and pitch in when needed.”

Laura is especially concerned about the Latino community in the United States, specifically in regards to the policies of the current federal administration. 

Illegal

In her youth, Laura remembers hearing about people coming to the United States “illegally.” It bothered her because her family came “legally.” She knew it cost her parents a lot of money and time, waiting for more than a decade to get their visas.

“As a kid, I remember thinking, wait your turn in line and pay your dues. That is definitely something that has changed. Because I never realized as a kid just how privileged I was. Ya, my parents did it the ‘right way’ but they had the means to do so; they had access to the financial and legal means to do so. They had access to lawyers and knew how to read forms properly. My parents were able to go through the process. They were also not necessarily without other options. They did it the ‘right way’ but they had more opportunities to do it that way.” (audio below)

Laura now knows that her upbringing was not like most Hondurans and many other people who immigrate to the USA. Today, she is an advocate for those who are undocumented.

Vote

Before the 2016 election, Laura was in charge of training people at the Latin American Community Centre about how to register voters.

“One message we always relay to our community is the importance of voting. If you have citizenship and the ability to vote, it is that much more important you do for those that don’t have that ability or opportunity. The policies enacted by our politicians impact them, but they aren’t able to affect those policies. It is our job to speak for those that basically can’t. We tried to remind people that they were not just voting for themselves; they were voting for two or three other people who couldn’t vote.”

Future

Laura emphasizes the need to recognize the full spectrum of immigrant experiences, specifically within the Latino community.

“We are not all the same, and we have varied experiences. There are a lot of stories of immense struggle and strife, but there are stories of privilege like mine.” (audio below)

Whatever Laura does in the future, it will continue to focus on improving the situations of minority and oppressed groups.

“I think when we recognize one form of discrimination or oppression, it sheds light on all the other types as well because there are parallels.”

Laura believes that increased exposure to different types of people and diverse ideas leads to more tolerance and acceptance.

“By default, most people are good.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

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© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Janice May & Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.