When I was twelve, my mom sadly passed away from kidney cancer. Beyond the emotional pain such a death causes, it radically changed my life, forcing me to become undocumented within a broken and cruel immigration system.

Growing up independently with my sister, life presented immense challenges often compounded by the constant burden that an undocumented status brings. In 2012, DACA was passed, and that burden was greatly reduced with a deferred status, driver’s license, and ability to work

DACA enabled me to graduate at the top of my class, speak at my high school graduation, and acquire a private scholarship at Brandeis University.

The results of the 2016 election along with the revokal of the DACA program in 2017 crystalized how personal that election was. Revoking DACA brought unimaginable stress and anxiety, clouding any long-term planning I could possibly make for my future.

On certain weekends, I hid in my apartment out of fear of immigrant raids. The revokal forced me to become a full-time advocate, often sacrificing my personal college experience in pursuit of permanent protections for Dreamers like myself.

Protecting Dreamers is also a religious issue, particularly for me as a member of the Jewish community. In the Torah — the first five books of the Hebrew Bible — we are called 36 times to welcome the stranger.

This, combined with the Jewish community’s shared experience as immigrants from Egypt to the Holocaust, informs our commitment to this fight. For Dreamers like me, the certainty and stability that permanent protections would provide is an urgent issue.

Three years ago shortly after Thanksgiving, I learned that my grandfather in Venezuela had passed away unexpectedly. Growing up, he was a dear father figure to me and in many ways was a direct connection to my mother and one of the few adults in my entire life I could count on

He was a tremendously influential person in my life. After his passing, I was forced to watch his funeral via cellphone videos because the revokal of DACA did not allow me to leave the country to be by his side at that critical time.

The way toxic and cruel policies invade the most intimate and personal experiences show how personal and brutal the last 4 years were.

Similarly, the passing of my estranged father from COVID last summer and the intersection of COVID and immigration status further shows how all that is political will always be personal.

Instead of focusing on his health, I was forced to worry about his status or if nurses asked for his social. Deeply thinking of him last night and today, knowing how differently his life may have been with legal status and upcoming programs the new admin is fighting for.

The last 4 years have been literal hell. Excited to begin the work required to uplift our communities. It is way past time to pass permanent protections for an issue over 83% of Americans support. Energized for the upcoming fight and potential victories ahead for our community!