Carlos’s Immigration Story – Santo Domingo, the Dominican Republic to Lancaster, Pennsylvania

Faded Memories

When Carlos thinks of the Dominican Republic, memories of “hectic traffic” and “warmth with a cool breeze” come to mind. It’s been almost two decades since he was last there, so his memories have faded. Carlos, the middle child of three, had a comfortable life in Santo Domingo, the capital. His father worked as a civil engineer for a successful company, allowing his mother to stay home to care for the family.

Above: In DR it is common for people to wear a ring from the college they graduated from, as a sort of status symbol.

“I don’t have many things left that belonged to my dad, which is largely why I value his graduation ring so much. The ring is symbolic of the type of man that he was. He was kind, hardworking, and responsible. Those are ideals I try to live by.” 

Tragedy

Carlos’s life changed drastically at eight years old when his father suddenly passed away from cancer. Carlos doesn’t have many photos of his time in the Dominican Republic. Most were left behind and then destroyed by bad weather. “I cherish the few photos that I have left.”

“This was taken at my first birthday party [see the above photo]. Obviously, I don’t remember that day, but I love the photo because of my father’s expression. I feel how proud he was of me just for being his son. It means a lot.” (audio below)

Up until age eight, Carlos was never an earnest student, mainly because of the family’s “comfortable lifestyle”. After his father passed away, he saw how his mother – who didn’t have a college-level education – struggled to pay their bills.

“Education felt like the only way I could regain that sense of security, so I began to take my studies very seriously.”

Thanks to a great third-grade teacher who helped and guided him, Carlos earned a medal for academic excellence.

“That year was the first time I was recognized as a good student. Winning that medal showed me that I was capable of doing well in school, which gave me a lot of confidence.” (audio below)

United States

Little by little, Carlos’s mom sold everything they owned, trying to gather enough money to pay for plane tickets for her, Carlos, and his two sisters, to immigrate to the US. Carlos remembers seeing their house empty. The day before leaving the Dominican, there was a power outage, and it was boiling hot. Carlos remembers how his mom spent the entire night, fanning him and his sister with a piece of paper. Carlos’s godparents dropped them off at the airport – Carlos, age 11, his mom and older and younger sisters.

It was the summertime in Pennsylvania when they landed in 2002, but to Carlos, it felt “super cold.” He was shocked to see his uncle, who picked them up at the airport, wearing a tank top. Carlos started school that fall in the sixth grade in Reading, Pennsylvania, where they would live for two years before moving to Lancaster.

First Day of School

“I remember walking into my classroom on the first day of school and feeling tremendous pressure to do well academically. I was aware of the sacrifices my mom had made to move to the US, all so that my sisters and I could have access to a better education and lifestyle.”

The other ESL (English as a Second Language) students in his class seemed to know some English already. Voices surrounded him, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“It really hit me at that moment how far behind I was from my peers. The hurdles I would have to go through to learn felt overwhelming, and I just broke down and cried. The teachers had to kick me out of the classroom because I was so loud.” (audio below)

Carlos spent the rest of his first day at school in the main office. Over time, however, he began to adapt. Carlos knew learning English was the key to getting into college. By eighth grade, Carlos had not only learned the English language but was thriving. Within three years of arriving, this school in America named him their “Student of the Year.”

“This plaque [see the above photo] means so much to me because I know how hard I had to work to get it. I was focused on school and improving myself because I knew that was the only way I was going to get an opportunity to go to college. It felt like a culmination of one arduous journey and the beginning of another one.” (audio below)

Undocumented

Carlos knew that his mother never planned on them returning to the Dominican Republic. He also knew their visas were going to expire, leaving them undocumented.

“Growing up undocumented was a difficult and traumatic experience. I felt like I needed to shelter who I was from the world so that I didn’t reveal too much and put my family in jeopardy of deportation. It only takes one call to immigration or for the wrong person to know about our status, for all of our sacrifices to have been in vain.” (audio below)

Carlos deliberately avoided making many friends – he didn’t want to get too close to anyone because of his undocumented status. His life revolved around school and studying. He never let his status get in the way of his studies. However, when Carlos started applying to colleges, the box where they ask for your social security number became an insurmountable problem. He decided to tell a high school teacher he trusted about his status.

“I was terrified to tell him. I feared his reaction because of the negative connotations attached to being undocumented. Some label you ‘illegal’ and dehumanize you when they find out that part of who you are. To my surprise, he was very supportive, and we are still close friends.”

Rejection

Carlos’s goal was always to go to college. He didn’t care where he went; he just wanted to continue his education.

“Receiving a pile of rejection letters was very hard because I had done everything I thought I could do in high school. I believed in the idea that if you work hard, you can get somewhere. At that point in my life, it wasn’t that way. I had worked as hard as I could, but society was still telling me I had reached the end of the line.”

Although Carlos felt disappointed, he didn’t stop looking for options. Eventually, he found a local community college where he started studying social sciences in 2009. Carlos excelled academically and became a student leader – hoping that an opportunity would turn up. Because he was undocumented, he was paying the international student rate, so he had to work and study simultaneously.

The Quintessential Campus

In 2011 Carlos came across an opportunity to transfer to Amherst College in Massachusetts. He took the bus to visit the campus as he was too afraid to fly. Carlos fell in love with its “quintessential campus,” seeing it as the perfect learning environment. He majored in political science and interdisciplinary studies.

“After I got into college and learned about social justice and different issues, I realized it was important to tell my story and put a face to the undocumented community.” (audio below)

Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) was announced in 2012 while Carlos was at Amherst. He applied, and in many ways, DACA changed his life.

Home

Carlos has always had an interest in politics – seeing it as a way to improve people’s lives. His college counselor at Amherst got Carlos interested in the idea of community organizing. He ended up moving to Chicago for a summer on an internship, where he learned firsthand how to mobilize communities. After graduating in 2014, Carlos returned to Chicago. He did more organizing work around raising the minimum wage for a project called “Raise the Wage.” He then headed to Washington DC to work as a congressional fellow for then-Congressman Mike Honda of California.

As an undocumented American, the last thing Carlos ever thought possible was spending an academic year in the United Kingdom, followed by a year in China. In 2015, Carlos earned a Gates Cambridge Scholarship to study for a master’s in Philosophy in Latin American studies in the United Kingdom. The following year he won a Schwarzman Scholarship to do a master’s in Global Affairs in China.

“I was humbled and empowered by my experiences abroad.”

Lancaster

In 2017, Carlos started working as the Statewide Capacity Building Coordinator for the Pennsylvania Immigration and Citizenship Coalition, which brings together immigrant and refugee rights organizations. Carlos works with partners in the community and helps them build their capacity to be better advocates.

Carlos describes this former US capital, Lancaster, as an increasingly Latino but traditionally Amish town. The Amish started the city’s “strong immigrant roots.” They came to Lancaster because of the religious freedom Quaker William Penn, founder of the English North American colony the Province of Pennsylvania, offered settlers. Carlos sees the city’s high per capita population of resettled refugees as being in line with Lancaster’s history of being welcoming to newcomers.

Solidarity

Carlos thinks it’s essential for more people who are undocumented to share their stories. He believes most Americans who haven’t met an undocumented person (or at least aren’t aware of meeting one), regard them in a negative light – as if they are faceless and nameless.

“We can be your neighbors or go to school with you or be your colleagues. Hearing our stories puts a human touch to the experience and builds solidarity. People who might be opposed or hostile to the undocumented community, change once they realize they know one of us. It’s important, especially in this political climate, that we tell our stories.” (audio below)

Above: Carlos’s mom cooking Dominican food at home

Identity

Regarding his place in the United States, Carlos does feel “in limbo.” His main document is his Dominican Passport, but he has spent most of his life in America.

“I stay connected to my Dominican roots through food, language, and dancing.” 

Carlos thinks it’s funny when people ask him for recommendations when they travel to the Dominican Republic. “Don’t you realize I’ve been in the US for the last 15 years!” (audio below)

Above: Carlos’s mom’s hand on his

A Mother’s Love

Carlos will never forget that his mom sacrificed her own dreams and health so he could grow up in the United States and have better opportunities. Since coming to the US, she has done so many different jobs, from working at the trash processing plant to labor-intensive factory jobs. Today his mom has arthritis directly related to her work, but he has never heard her complain. Carlos knows he couldn’t do the work she does. His mom, and people like her, are his motivation. She came here with nothing, risked it all, knowing that her future wouldn’t be comfortable.

My mom knew she was going to be undocumented and what that meant, but that didn’t stop her. She was chasing the possibility that things could be better for her children. I think that her sacrifices are inherently American. The immigrants who came to America took the chance to come across the ocean and didn’t know that things would be the best. I hope she has the opportunity to stay in the country legally, get out of the shadows, and pursue her passions.” (audio below)

Dreams

Carlos’s dream is to have the ability to plan his future freely. He doesn’t want his immigration status to be hanging over his head for life. He wants to be able to pursue his passions – public service and seeing the world. Carlos’s options are limited, but that’s something he has grown used to – finding a path despite limited opportunities. He knows many in his community are much worse off than he is.

“I’ve been fortunate that so far, my status hasn’t held me back that much – but it has for many people, and that’s what motivates me to continue to do the work I do.”

American Values

Carlos is hurt by people who advocate for an immigration system that would only allow people with extraordinary qualifications to immigrate to the US. He wishes the immigration system was more reflective of American values and traditions since the current system would exclude the ancestors of most Americans from coming here today.

“I want them to think about their own ancestors and the fact that most of their ancestors would not be able to come here if those were the standards. When they are advocating for that, they are slapping their ancestors in the face. I wish there was a system of legal immigration where there are different ways that people can come here and contribute, which is not what we have now.” (audio below)

*Update: Carlos is currently pursuing a joint degree in law and public policy at Harvard University with support from the Paul and Daisy Soros Fellowship for New Americans.

#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 edited for clarity and brevity.

Sabato’s Immigration Story – São Paulo, Brazil to Northampton, Massachusetts

Childhood

Sabato’s father met his mother, an industrial designer, in the mall where he owned a toy store. Their son Sabato was born in 1985, and when he was only one year old, they moved the family to Miami, USA. Sabato believes they had many reasons to leave and did so when his father secured a visa and some money to start a company. Sabato’s parents imported Brazilian semi-precious stones. The belief prevalent in the late 1980s and early 1990s within the Hispanic community of the healing powers of crystals fueled their business. Sabato’s parents opened concessions in Sears stores throughout South Florida, where they sold these stones.

Separation

When Sabato was six years old, his parents separated. His mom moved back to Brazil, and Sabato remained with his Dad in Miami. When Sabato was in college, his father remarried, and he has a 10-year-old baby brother, “who is amazing.”

Sabato’s mother wasn’t around when he was a child, and he remembers that he went through five years without seeing her. Currently, he gets to see her a few times a year.

Miami

Sabato grew up in Miami’s “multicultural immigrant vibe.” where he was able to interact with classmates from all over the world. As Sabato got older, he started to hate the superficiality of Miami’s “new money.” Sabato recognizes how Miami is different today with a budding street art scene and independent cinemas. Still, it wasn’t like that when he was growing up.

Undocumented

In the Miami of Sabato’s youth, so many people were undocumented. It was an easy place to get a job under the table. Like many of the kids he grew up around, Sabato didn’t know what the implications of not having papers were. Over time, he started to realize what it meant. Sabato couldn’t get a driver’s license but was able to secure a Florida state identification one day before September 11th, 2001, when the requirements changed.

“You become aware of these challenges. For people who grew up in the United States, it is just, ‘I’m 16, I’ll get my license’. These are things you assume you have access to, but you don’t.” (audio below)

Even though he heard that he couldn’t go to college because he was undocumented, he applied anyway. 

“You continue being a part of the community: you have friends, do American things, but when it comes to certain things like employment or financial aid you can’t.”

Because Sabato knew he wasn’t eligible for financial aid, he didn’t apply for it when applying for college. He worried about potential implications if he told the school he was undocumented: the chance of deportation worried his father. After being accepted to Amherst College in Massachusetts, the reality of not having financial aid hit:

“Holy shit! I need to pay $50,000 dollars every year to go here!”

Hustling Pianos

Because of his status, Sabato couldn’t find a job that would provide him with a salary, so Sabato and his father started a business flipping merchandise from auctions on eBay. What they decided to flip stemmed from Sabato wanting a piano to learn classical music. When his father went to a piano distribution center to find out the cost of one, he realized he could sell them on eBay and make enough of a profit to pay for three years of Sabato’s university degree.

“Only five percent of undocumented people go to college. I’m so lucky to have overcome that – hustling pianos!”

Audio: Sabato playing “Berimbau” / “Consolação” (Vinicius de Moraes / Baden Powell) on the piano

DACA

Sabato remained undocumented until 2014. With the DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) program, the government deprioritized his deportation, and he received a work permit. Most paths to financial stability involve getting a full-time job, and finally, Sabato could do this. Here in Massachusetts, he showed his Brazilian passport, and that was enough to get a driver’s license. (audio below)

Massachusetts

In 2001 at the age of 18, Sabato fulfilled the dream of going to Massachusetts to attend college.

“I wanted to go to a place where it snowed, the seasons changed and it was more ‘American’ – I was tired of Miami. I knew if I went to school somewhere where it was cold, my family would hardly visit me. That was part of the calculation. [laughing]”

Living in Massachusetts made him appreciate and miss Miami; however, following graduation Sabato decided to stay in New England.

Sabato has always been creative. He remembers getting into trouble in middle school for drawing cartoons when he was supposed to be paying attention to the lesson. 

At college, Sabato began taking portraits of his friends and doing video production. These two side hustles were extremely helpful considering that he couldn’t get a regular nine to five job.

Glitch Art

In 2011, a friend showed him a compact flash memory card in which the files were coming out glitchy. He was curious and fascinated by the missing parts and rearranged the pieces. Sabato began to create “glitchy” digital files on purpose [see the photos above]. This process of finding ways to corrupt or break photos or videos that he takes has become his artistic focus. His art has been shown at the Tate in London as well as featured in Time magazine. (audio below)

Meeting Meredith

It was through art that he met his wife, Meredith. Sabato was shooting an art show in Connecticut, and Meredith was one of the vendors. When he took her portrait, there was an instant connection. He still loves taking her photograph.

From what Sabato has observed, people who grew up in the States have all read the same children’s books or watched the same shows. He grew up reading Brazilian comic books and the bible in Portuguese, so some American pop-cultural references go over his head.

“I grew up differently and had different experiences.” (audio below)

Roots

He feels lucky that his father was persistent in his wish that Sabato would speak Portuguese as a child and maintain his language. He knows that for many immigrants his age, this is not the case. Throughout his childhood, Sabato translated for his dad, including the sermon at church and any legal documents.

Soccer played an important role in keeping Sabato connected to his roots.

“In 1994 the World Cup was held in the United States, and it was a big deal. I was really rooting for team USA. Brazil played the US in round 16 and I was rooting for the US even though Dad and everyone watching with us were rooting for Brazil. The US lost 1-0 and Brazil ended up winning the World Cup. That’s the first time I was proud to be Brazilian – being with that group, watching old games from the 70s with Pele and all the classic Brazilian soccer heroes. I’m part of this shared history which makes me really happy. In 1998, when Brazil went to the finals and lost to France, I was crying my eyes out.” (audio below)

Sabato feels like his Brazilian identity is becoming more defined with age, especially since moving to New England for college. Massachusetts is where his identity coalesced, and for the first time in his life, he felt “exotic.” (audio below)

Future

Sabato currently creates advertorial content for personal injury lawyers as his day job. In the future, he dreams of going to graduate school for photography or digital arts/media and eventually working full-time as an artist.

“I dream of one day being in a position where I can live off my work.”

*Update: Since the interview, Sabato got his green card through his marriage to Meredith, quit his job with the personal injury lawyers, and has been working as a full-time artist. You can find out more about Sabato’s incredible work on his website.

#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.