LGBTIQ

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.

Eman’s Immigration Story – Kuwait City, Kuwait to NYC, New York

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Childhood

Eman was born at the beginning of the 1980s to Palestinian parents living in Kuwait.

Most of Eman’s memories of Kuwait involve food. 

“We didn’t have McDonald’s when I grew up – we had Hardees. Pizza Hut is better there. It had an elaborate salad bar. The food was good in Kuwait because that is all we had. They have no other form of entertainment really.” (audio below)

Fleeing Kuwait

Eman was nine when they fled Kuwait in 1990 because of the Gulf War. Eman’s parents had already lived through war as Palestinians and they didn’t want their children experiencing the same trauma they had. The family drove overnight from Kuwait to Iraq. Eman remembers how her parents tried their best to pretend like everything was normal for her and her two younger siblings.

 “We didn’t feel danger or that anything bad was happening. It’s a field trip – eat delicious food and listen to your favorite songs!”

Oddly enough, the one thing Eman will never forget about Iraq is the milk. “It is the best milk I’ve ever had in my life.” Eman remembers how embarrassed her Mom was about the sheer amount of milk her daughter was drinking.  

“Everything in my life revolves around food. I find comfort in food.”

Above: Eman enjoying takeout [top left], toast with zaatar made with thyme and olive oil from Palestine [top right] and a NYC slice [bottom]

Canada

Eman’s father had already started the immigration process for the family to move to Canada. He managed an international fiberglass company and already had business in Montreal, Quebec, so they didn’t stay in Iraq for long. 

“I remember coming off the plane and everybody coming at us with covers to cover us up, since it was really cold, and we were from the desert.”

Above: Eman’s bookshelf

Eman found adjusting to Canadian life reasonably easy. The school she went to in Montreal had other recent immigrants, and many were Arabic speakers – people who spoke the same language and looked like her. Eman explains how even though, as Palestinians, they were second class citizens in Kuwait, their quality of life was better there than in Canada.

Her mother had been a kindergarten teacher in Kuwait, and her father a successful businessman. In Canada, they ran a little muffin and coffee shop franchise called “Treats” in the mall. It was hard work, long hours, with very little return.

The move west had the most profound effect on Eman’s mother, sending her into a depression that has never fully recovered from.

Eman will never forget the happy occasion of her family getting their Canadian citizenship in 1993. Eman’s happiness was overshadowed by one section of her citizenship document. For “country of origin, it read “stateless”. She says this still scars her today.

Comedy

From an early age, Eman had wanted to work in entertainment. She grew up watching American shows and felt like nobody on them looked like her.

“I wanted to dispel negative stereotypes. If I saw people who looked like me, they were always awful terrorists – evil people. I feel like when you entertain someone, they will listen to you a lot more than if you are preaching or teaching.” 

Eman started her work on the comedy circuit in 2006.

“Now when I look back, I wish I didn’t get into comedy. It is such a hard unstable career. If I could turn back time, I would be a professional tennis player [laughing].”  (audio below)

Above: Intruding on a stranger’s photoshoot by the Brooklyn Bridge

Identity

Eman finds that people often have trouble figuring out what exactly is her background. They know she is a woman of color, but not much more than that. Once, she encountered a man on the subway who was shouting out people’s ethnic backgrounds. When Eman walked by, he fell completely silent. (audio below)

Above: A necklace from her parents that reads “Eman” in Arabic

Eman doesn’t feel like she has had to deal with a lot of overt discrimination, which she attributes to not being “visibly gay or Muslim looking.” Although she does think her career would be further along if she had been a regular white guy. 

“I remember when I first started doing stand up in Canada, and I wanted to talk about my identity off the top. My boss would be like, ‘maybe you shouldn’t push that right away because it makes people uncomfortable. Make them laugh with light stuff, then get into who you are.’” 

Audio: Eman opening her set at New York Comedy Club
Above: Eman’s wardrobe with a small Palestinian flag

She has had some strange experiences because of her background. Eman remembers once being called “edgy” for mentioning on the radio that she was Palestinian. She also has been heckled because, as she says, “people don’t like what they don’t know.”

“I did get heckled once by a drunk American couple that voted for Trump and called me a terrorist. The audience was really nice to be like, ‘get the fuck out of here!’ [to the hecklers]” (audio below)

Meeting Jess

In 2009 Eman met Jess, who was born in Montreal, Canada to a Peruvian mother and a Canadian father. They became friends on the Canadian comedy circuit. Eman didn’t think of Jess in a sexual way; in fact, she had never really thought of any woman in a sexual way! 

“My curiosity spiked one night when she was at the club; I looked at her in a different light. She has a line in her stand up about being bisexual, and I was like ‘Oh, my God – I’m totally curious!’ It was always on my subconscious. I thought if I were to fool around with a girl it would be her. I didn’t know I would end up marrying her!” (audio below)

New York

Eman knew that New York City was the place to be for standup comedy. Once a year, she would head down to NYC to do a show. It was perfect when she met Jess because she had the same idea about the city. Both Eman and Jess, as comedians, agreed that New York was a place they could both grow as comedians. Besides, Eman had always dreamed of moving to the US. She grew up obsessed with Beverly Hills 90210 and often fantasized about going to an American college by the beach.

They arranged a trip to New York City for a five-month “trial period”, staying in a small studio apartment. This trip was an excellent test for their relationship, and they passed. As Jess remembers,

“It became clear that we were going to do this together, and we were going to do life together.” (audio below)

Marriage

It also became clear that they wanted to move to the US more permanently. They decided to try and get green cards. Their lawyer suggested that Eman apply, and Jess come as her spouse. This complicated Jess’s plan. She already had the ring, and the proposal all planned out! In the end, Jess still proposed but did end up going to New York as Eman’s spouse.

They married at City Hall in Toronto in 2015. Jess’s father had just passed away, so she was a “complete disaster” emotionally, but is thankful they did it for the sake of the green card. 

“In our wedding photos, it looks like Eman is taking me hostage.”

A year and a half later, they had a proper wedding in Montreal [see the above photo]. Jess’s mom helped throw a beautiful wedding party. It was a “real cultural mishmash,” with Jewish traditions, Arabic traditions, mixed in with Peruvian food and culture. They did the hora and the dabka. As Jess remembers,

“We had belly dancers come out at the end, and my mom got down with them. I may have proposed to Eman, but at the wedding, I was full bride.”

They made the official move to NYC in April of 2016. Eman describes New York City as tough, gross, filthy, but also unique, fashionable, and colorful. 

“Originality is so embraced in New York City. You meet such interesting people who probably left where they are from so they could come here and express themselves fully. It is a beautiful liberal bubble where we think Hillary Clinton is president of this town.” (audio below)

Future

Eman tries to perform every single night, sometimes even more than one show in a night. She gets rusty quickly, so being on stage regularly is her way of staying sharp. Eventually, she hopes to have a stable income from comedy (and fame and fortune of course).

Audio: Eman discussing her and Jess’s relationship on stage at the New York Comedy Club

In regards to America’s future, Eman isn’t too sure. She wants to be an idealist and think that liberal-minded people will win in the end.

“I want to believe this is the last of ignorance, but I look at the future, and I am so worried. I don’t know if evil wins in the end, but I feel like that is what’s winning right now.”

Update: Since the interview, Eman and Jess have a new daughter (puppy) named Esther Honey, their Crave Comedy Special The El-Salomons: Marriage of Convenience launched and they have been creating awesome cartoons about their lives together over on Instagram.

#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 have been edited for clarity and brevity.

Analisse’s Immigration Story – La Paz, Bolivia to Waterford, Connecticut

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Childhood

Analisse remembers how beautiful and geographically diverse the area she grew up in was – with both the Andes mountains and the Amazon rainforest close by. While she grew up in a small apartment with her parents and two brothers, her Grandma Lula had a big house with a huge yard they could play in – this is where she created her best childhood memories.

It was a Sunday tradition that the family would have lunch together, and Annalise loved helping her Grandma cook for everyone. Analisse doesn’t know why exactly, but after lunch, the family would all sit together and read the newspaper to one another aloud.

“My cousin would always read the horoscopes to everyone and we would laugh.”

Ambition

A great fouth grade teacher named Mrs. Quinzio sparked Analisse’s interest in one day becoming an educator.

“It’s not that I remember exactly what she taught us, but it was the way that she taught. Ever since then I have wanted to be a teacher to inspire kids and be there for them – especially in the middle school years when there is a lot of change going on with them and their lives. I wanted to push them to become who they can become though they do not even know it yet.” (audio below)

Analisse attended an American school in Bolivia, had family living in Maryland, and an older brother at college in Massachusetts, so she had always planned on going to college in the US.

Soccer

Analisse grew up playing football (soccer) with her dad and brothers. Every weekend they would go to a nearby field and play two on two. Analisse was excellent – so good that she ended up playing on Bolivia’s national team. She wanted to play soccer in college, but she also had other ambitions. Analisse found Connecticut College, a division three school, which seemed like the perfect place to play soccer and study to become a teacher. In 2004, at age 18, Annalise arrived in the United States on a school-sponsored student visa.

Analisse’s experience speaking English at school in Bolivia smoothed the transition to Connecticut. Her college soccer team was the other key factor in this transition. Immediately, it was like she had this family away from home. Her teammates’ parents cared for her. 

“On long weekends or holidays when I couldn’t go back to Bolivia, they would take me in – ‘their adopted soccer child.’ I had all this support.”

Educator

Analisse’s first teaching job after graduating was at the Dual Language & Arts and Magnet Middle School in Waterford, Connecticut. The school has only 150 students, and everyone knows everyone. During English class, her students work on personal narratives. The students review examples of powerful personal narratives, discuss what makes them powerful, and then learn how to write their own. She is trying to inspire them to find ways to express the life experiences and insights they have already gained.

Audio: Classroom discussion about the personal narrative they just read

“When they come to me as brand new sixth graders, they have a lot of thoughts and feelings, but they don’t know how to put it into writing. We spend a lot of time making our stories powerful – making sure that the feeling the students felt when they went through whatever experience they are choosing to write about is transmitted through their writing.”

“I have one student who is writing about her brother who died last year. Every time she writes, she gets teary-eyed, but she is like ‘this is helping me go through all the feelings I’ve been feeling and not knowing how to talk about them.’” (audio below)

Aside from teaching, Analisse is an assistant coach of the women’s soccer team at Connecticut College – the same team she played for.

“Every time I put on my cleats and am out on a soccer field, there is a feeling that it brings back. I have grown up playing soccer my whole life.”

Meeting Amy

When Analisse first met Amy, another local teacher, they would go to Harkness Park on Sundays, to lesson plan together – or at least pretend to.

“We would bring a blanket and some food and write lesson plans. We ended up talking most of the time. I would have to go home after and actually do work!”

They were getting to know each other – and falling in love. Analisse will never forget the unique way Amy proposed to her. They were both into “letterboxing” (an outdoor hobby that combines elements of orienteering, art, and puzzle-solving). Amy hid five different boxes in Harkness Park. She asked Analisse to join her for a walk since she had found some new letterboxing instructions online. They followed the instructions and collected beautiful stamps around the park. While they were walking, it went through Analisse’s mind how this would be the perfect idea for an engagement. When they got down to the water, the last box contained a letter explaining the meaning of all the stamps. Analisse still hadn’t clued in that these stamps and the letters were about their relationship.

“These people have been to the same places we have been! We should be friends with these people! Then the letter mentioned going to Harkness for picnics, and that’s when I started crying and was like ‘this is us!’ Amy reached into the backpack and got out our engagement necklaces.” (audio below)

Future in Jeopardy

When Analisse tried to renew her work visa in 2011, her lawyer made a small clerical error and submitted the wrong employer ID number. This mistake would prove to be costly: putting Analisse’s future in the United States in jeopardy. By the time she became aware of the error, the deadline had passed, and her visa had expired.

“In April 2012, I got a call from my principal saying that I needed to come back to school. She was crying and hugged me and said, ‘you can’t come back to work on Monday. Your work visa expired, and you need to leave the country in ten days.””

Analisse flew to Bolivia and started the renewal process. There were so many forms, and at the time, Bolivia was going through political turmoil. Strikes were frequent, making it hard to get to the consulate. Analisse was also trying to help Amy plan their American wedding – which was to occur in a matter of months – yet she didn’t know if she would ever be able to return to the US. Amy and Analisse began to discuss the idea of moving to Canada together. In the end, Analisse got her visa and returned to the US one month before her wedding.

Marriage

Their wedding took place in the Harkness Park amphitheater in June 2012. Analisse’s parents were not supportive of the marriage, but Amy’s were. Analisse’s uncle, aunt, and cousin were the only people from her side of the family who came – but the amphitheater was full of her friends and coworkers on a beautiful sunny day.

“There was so much love at our wedding. I was sore the next day from dancing so much!”

Analisse’s cousin read a poem in Spanish, and the vows were bilingual. There is a pizza place in New London called Two Wives Pizza, so they thought it was appropriate to head there after the ceremony. Over time, Analisse’s parents’ have become more supportive of their marriage and they are all rebuilding the relationship. Analisse isn’t sure what changed exactly but out of the blue they said they would like to see Amy too when they visit.

When they married, Analisse was still in the US on a work visa. Even though the state of Connecticut recognized the marriage, federally, due to the Defence of Marriage Act, it wasn’t. This prevented Analisse from applying for a green card through marriage. In 2013, when they repealed this federal act, Analisse started the process of applying for a green card. It was a lot of paperwork and required proof that they are actually together. In their package, they included emails, pictures, and letters. A friend recommended that they bring notes from people who know them as a couple. They admit they over-prepared, and once again, Amy surprised Analisse.

Green Card

Amy created a Facebook group for all of their friends, asking them for letters to support their green card application. These letters focused on Amy and Analisse’s relationship and how each of these friends knows them as a couple. Amy gathered all of these letters, put them in a book, and invited the friends to Harkness Park to present the book to Analisse. When Analisse looks at this book she feels overwhelmed with love.

“Amy texted me and said ‘Want to go to Harkness and walk? Oh, by the way, wear your green button-down shirt.’ I’m walking down that path, and I see this whole group of people all wearing green, and I see Amy emerge from there, and I stopped and was like, ‘this is my party.’ I got the book and probably cried for the rest of the time.” (audio below)

Above: A photograph of Analisse and Amy being reunited one month before their wedding after not knowing when they would see each other again

Together

Amy can’t imagine her life without Analisse. When Analisse had to leave the country before their wedding it gave her a glimpse of what that would be like.

“We were both crying the entire month that she was gone. That made our wedding that much more meaningful, and the green card that much more meaningful. I don’t think people realize how hard it is to do legally. To us, it is like, no wonder people come here illegally because it is hard. You really have to have a work connection or relationship with someone to come to this country. You can’t come and just expect to be a citizen. A lot of US citizens think, ‘well why doesn’t that person just become a citizen?’ It’s not that easy, and people don’t understand that.” (audio below)

Analisse and Amy would like to see a lot of change with the immigration process. So much depends on whether you can afford a good lawyer, something Amy stresses is so essential for other people to have when trying to get a green card.

“For a lot of people coming from South and Central America, it is no wonder they are coming here illegally: it’s hard, expensive, and you have to have a lot of connections.” (audio below)

*Update: Since the interview, Analisse is no longer teaching, and is now the strength and conditioning coach at Connecticut College. The Connecticut Sun WNBA team also recently hired Analisse as the head strength and conditioning coach!

#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.

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.

Armando’s Immigration Story – Acapulco, Mexico to Los Angeles, California

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Acapulco

“When I tell people I’m from Acapulco, people are like ‘Oh my God, what are you doing here?’ I am not from the part of Acapulco that you see in the movies. I am from the segregated area where all the poor people live and go in to work for the tourists every day.”

One of the fondest memories Armando has of Acapulco is being out in the street playing football with the other kids. Although he had no shoes, he felt free.

Childhood

Armando’s mother and father divorced when he was four, and his father left. Armando was raised by a single mother who worked many different jobs, usually as a waitress or a cook. While she was working, Armando would live with neighbors, uncles, or with his grandma. He had a conservative Catholic upbringing. He remembers being six years old and dressing like a priest for a performance [see photo below].

When Armando was twelve, his mother met his step-father. She stopped working and had his little brother. They were still living in poverty, but their life improved significantly.

Discrimination

It became apparent to Armando early on that the school system in Mexico discriminated against poor people. He remembers how the teachers wanted the kids to wear black shoes for class and white shoes for physical education. His family didn’t have money for either color of shoes.

“My mom said, ‘we are going to buy you the shoes, but we are not going to eat.’ That’s why all my family members, cousins, friends, uncles, stopped going to school. We normalize that. It is normal to quit school when you are 10, 11, 12, 13, and then get a job.” 

Above: Armando always wanted rollerblades but couldn’t afford them. His cousins all pitched in and bought him a pair for his birthday.

Film

When Armando was seven, his mom managed to rent a small room, and the first significant new item she bought was a black and white television. Armando remembers getting hooked on films like Casablanca and Gone with the Wind. When he was nine, Armando went to a music festival at the beach where the presenters were all soap opera stars. For the first time, Armando realized how white all of these stars were – even though they portrayed poor people like himself on television. At 12, Armando wanted to see the Lion King so severely that he snuck out of the house and went to the movies by himself. By 14, he had his first job at Walmart – packing people’s groceries into their cars for tips – and while there, stealing movie magazines from the store.

Pretty People

“In my mind, I thought all celebrities were like me, but here I saw that they were blond, blue-eyed, light-skinned people. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe that all the actors I admired on soap operas were white. My cousins were asking for autographs. Then I understood that artists and celebrities are white people – they are pretty people. We are brown and not going to be on TV – we are ugly people.”(audio below)

Armando grew up in a culture where people asked what shade of skin a newborn had. If you married someone with light skin, there was a common expression – “mejorar la raza” (improve the race). Because of this, he never would have dreamed of working in film, although it was his passion. He believed that careers in the arts were only for wealthy people or white people. If he had told someone his dream was to be a filmmaker, they would have thought he was joking.

Above: Armando at 15, being a chambelan – one of the dancers who accompanies the quinceañera girl.

The Other Side

Armando frequently heard talk about going to “the other side”. It became apparent when someone went to the US. Shortly afterward, their family circumstances would improve – better food, clothes, and perhaps an extension on their house.

One day Armando’s stepfather fell sick, and they had to sell their television and VHS player to pay for a doctor and medicine. As soon as he recovered, his stepfather started planning how he would go to “the other side”. The biggest challenge was always finding someone to sponsor you – meaning someone living in the USA who would loan you the money to pay a “coyote” (the person who helps people cross the border in exchange for money) to help you cross the border. His stepfather could have worked for a decade and still not have enough money, but luckily he found someone to loan him the money. He came to the USA in 1998, and while working as a painter, he made enough money to help Armando’s mom and his two siblings cross. 

“There’s a lot of pain in me against my country. My mom says, ‘I was crossing the border walking at night with my three-year-old son, my six-month-old daughter, and the only thing I was thinking was if one of my children died here I’m staying here.’ How can we accept this kind of thinking and normalize it?” (audio below)

Crossing

At first, Armando didn’t want to go to the USA, since he was living with an aunt, receiving money from his parents in America, and going to school. He quickly realized, though, that the money he was receiving from the USA wasn’t going to be sufficient for him to continue his life in Mexico. Armando told his parents he wanted to cross. They found their son a coyote who Armando met near the border in Sonora, Mexico. 

“I was 18 and naive and thought the USA would have their doors open for me. When I was trying to cross, I felt like my innocence was lost. I saw Mexican police take immigrants’ belongings and assault them. I saw indigenous women from Guatemala and Honduras getting raped so they could get a pass. Women with condoms because in their minds, they already knew what was going to happen to them, and they didn’t want to get pregnant.”

Armando remembers sitting on a Mexican freeway near the border and these big trucks driving by throwing empty beer bottles and trash at them, yelling “adios illegals.”

“That moment for me was defining. I don’t ever want to come back to this country. I was happy to leave.” (audio below)

It took many attempts over three weeks to cross the border before Armando was successful. One day the coyote woke him up at six in the morning, warning him that they would be walking all day.

Risking Everything

“I started seeing clothes, backpacks, and bottles of water in the desert. I was picking up the photographs and turned one around. Women were writing to their husbands, ‘don’t forget about us,’ and ‘I hope God is with you.’ I couldn’t believe this was going on. People risk everything, and some of these families will never see their family members again. I know that I am blessed that we made it.”(audio below)

Next, Armando tried to cross with the coyote in a truck, but it broke down in the desert, in the middle of the night. He remembers being so cold he couldn’t sleep, and then there was a point where it wasn’t cold anymore.

“The coyote touched me and said I was hard like ice. He got scared, and he started throwing all the clothes on top of me, and I couldn’t move. I told him, ‘if something happens to me tell my mom.’ That’s the only time in my whole life where I felt like I was going to die. When I started seeing the first light of the day, it felt so beautiful. I knew I was alive. It was one of the best moments of my life.”

The next time Armando tried to cross was with a larger organization of coyotes, and he was in a truck with 20 other people. At one point in the journey, border patrol saw them, but the driver was somehow able to speed away. 

“At some point, it felt smooth, not rough like the desert and I saw that we were on the freeway and I saw a small house and I was like ‘this is the USA!’ I saw a house that looked like a house in the movies.” 

Trigger

When Armando crossed, he wore this green and white shirt, pants, tennis shoes, and an empty backpack. Looking at this shirt, which his mom has kept safe, brings back a lot of memories.

“Today, she pulled it out of the closet, and as soon as I saw it, I broke down. It brought all of those memories that I have been avoiding all of that pain and traumatic experiences. Looking at that shirt reminds me of all the injustices that me, my mom, and family went through to look for a better life. That shirt is a reminder of the life that I don’t want to go back to if I end up deported. I need to keep that shirt to remind me why I came to this country, so we can continue making a better future for others. Education is the only power we have to fight for a change, telling our stories so people can see our humanity. That shirt is painful to look at.” (audio below)

When he finally got across in 2000, his family met him at a McDonald’s where the coyote received money from his uncle. His mom was waiting there, crying. His family warned him before coming that in America, he should forget his goals of going to school and be ready to work. 

Service Industry

“Learn English so you can get a better job and don’t tell anyone about your undocumented status. All of your goals, forget about them.”

Armando’s first job also happened to be at McDonald’s. 

Above: Armando, age 19, after one year of being in the US. He is in their one-bedroom apartment wearing his uniform for the restaurant where he was working as a cook.

Since starting at McDonald’s, Armando has worked in around 20 restaurants. He began as a dishwasher, then was promoted to cook, then to the front of the house, then a server and bartender.

Undocumented

“Even in your social life, you don’t tell anyone. When people invite you out to a bar, you say you can’t go because you don’t have an ID, and you don’t want to use your Mexican ID. Now with my undocumented friends, we laugh about it. I spent ten years lying and trying to fit in.” (audio below)

In 2011, the manager at the restaurant where he worked called him in, saying that his social security number didn’t match his name. Armando told his manager that his social security number was fake. Armando felt humiliated, embarrassed, and scared. He went home devastated and worried about how he was going to pay that month’s rent. Armando couldn’t tell his mom, and the next day Armando put on his uniform as if he was going to work but instead went to the movies. He did this for three days before his mom realized that something was up. In 2013 the same thing happened again at another job – and that was the last straw for him. Armando decided that he had to get more involved in the undocumented movement.

“That letter was the before and after for me to start speaking up and not be in hiding anymore.”

Unafraid

Armando will never forget watching the 2012 movement of undocumented youth on the streets yelling, “Undocumented! Unafraid”! This civil disobedience was inspiring, and then they announced DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals). DACA meant that undocumented children who were brought to the US by their parents could get papers giving the right to remain, work, and study in the country.

Armando didn’t qualify for DACA since he wasn’t in the country before the age of 16, but his brother and sister [see the photo above] did.

Hope

When friends visit, they always ask Armando why he keeps so many documents. He tells them how people in his situation hold on to hope that one day there will be an opportunity to fix their status. When that opportunity comes, Armando wants to be ready.

“People who are documented do not understand. Every piece of paper –  we have got to keep.”

After he joined the movement, Armando quickly discovered undocumented people in California who were going to post-secondary school – it is possible. Armando enrolled in college. When the counselor asked him his major, he hesitated before saying “filmmaking.” He didn’t know how he would tell his family and when he did,

“I got silence. It was like they were laughing at me. ‘We are poor, and being a filmmaker is not possible for you.’”

Queer

Becoming an activist, exposed Armando to a new word – “queer.” For the first time in his life, he realized it wasn’t bad or wrong – it was just how he felt.

 “I had been hiding my identity as a gay person – it added another layer – undocumented and gay. Hiding from society and your family is common- especially in the Latino community, where it is not okay to be gay.”

In the summer of 2015, Armando fell into a deep depression. His mother, a conservative Christian, told Armando how hard it was for her to accept him being gay. Armando wasn’t sure if his life was worth continuing. Two things key things happened in Armando’s life that helped him go on. He saw activists proclaiming that they were undocumented, unafraid, queer, and unashamed. Around that same time, a friend asked Armando if he had watched the web series Awkward Black Girl by Issa Rae. Armando checked it out, and it was the inspiration he needed to go on. He wanted to tell his story like she does and break down stereotypes.

“It brought me back to life. It’s amazing the power that a filmmaker can have on people. That changed my life, and I started embracing my identity and who I was.”

Undocumented Tales

Armando began writing about being undocumented – about having to lie to people about not having an ID or Social Security number or driver’s license. He wrote about being gay and what it was like having his mom ask him about girlfriends or his family asking when he was getting married. Out of this writing, he came up with the idea for the web series Undocumented Tales.

“Writing is very healing for me, and putting those stories on the screen is healing for others. Maybe we have obstacles, but we have to embrace what we have.” 

He saw how most TV characters are white and straight, and the need for a series with people of color and people from the LGBTQ+ community.

“The media told me my whole life that I could not be the lead character.”

Armando created a lead character based on his story – undocumented, queer, poorly educated, and working as a busboy in a restaurant. He remembers the response after the premiere of the show and someone commenting, “That’s me”! People from his community felt represented. Armando’s web series was saying to other undocumented or queer people: “You are on the screen, and you matter.”

“I just want all the undocumented people to come to LA. We have privileges here. We have drivers’ licenses and identification cards and health care. It is the most friendly city for undocumented people, and I am aware of that. We have all the cultures here, and they make the city rich.”

Audio: Armando’s first trip to Charlotte and the fear he felt surrounded by white people

Battle on Two Fronts

Armando fights a battle on two fronts – homophobia from the Latino community, and racism from some white Americans. He is aware that he may never see the changes that he wants to happen. However, he is okay just making his small contribution so that that future generations will benefit.

“Hatred is growing in this country like a snowball and Trump is just pushing the ball. Hopefully, it doesn’t crash and instead it dissolves along the way.” (audio below)

Despite his struggles, and feeling like his community is continually marginalized, Armando tries to remain positive.

“They don’t see the humanity in us. That frustrates me. I’m just going to continue speaking up about my experiences. I’m not afraid anymore. I want to show that despite all the barriers – we continue on, and we are beautiful. Brown is beautiful.” 

#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.