Abstract
Stress associated with the threat of deportation is not a new facet of daily life for undocumented immigrants in the United States. An upsurge in antiimmigrant rhetoric and policy has contributed to ever-present anxiety and fear regarding apprehension, detention, and deportation. In this qualitative study of mixed-status immigrant families, the stories (testimonios) of parents and young adult recipients of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) are explored. Their testimonios reveal conflicted feelings about life in America and the relentless strain of living with fear and uncertainty. A portrait emerges of life in small-town America during these troublesome times of mass deportations and family separation. The testimonios, explored through a LatCrit lens, reveal the human side of immigration policy and compel us to contemplate the lived reality of immigrant families with American dreams.
Keywords
Mixed-status immigrant families, those with at least one member who is a citizen or legal resident and one who is not, experience a unique form of stress related to the threat of deportation in the current era of nativist rhetoric in the United States. Such families live in constant fear of separation. On one hand, children worry for parents without documentation who take risks each time they leave the house to work or run errands. On the other, meanwhile parents suffer extreme anxiety at the thought of being separated from their children with legal status, worrying how to keep their children safe, should they be detained, and how to reunite if they are sent thousands of miles away.
This qualitative study explores the storied lives of mixed-status immigrant families from Latin America and the stress that they endure from the constant presence of fear in their lives. Through the use of testimonies, responsive interviewing, and thematic analysis, stories emerge that illustrate the vulnerability and heightened state of anxiety that define the daily lives of immigrants in small-town America. Parents of young elementary school students compose one participant group; the other group comprises Dreamers, young adult college students with legal status under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program. Parallel themes of conflicted identity, uncertainty, fear, and sacrifice emerge in their stories.
The goal of the study was to examine participants’ testimonios through a LatCrit lens (Solorzano & Bernal, 2001) supported by theoretical sensitivity of the researcher (Strauss & Corbin, 1990), a bilingual teacher and university professor of cultural competence and English Language Learner education. Research from the evolving field of literature on deportation threat is explored. The methodology is outlined, findings are presented, and the study concludes with a discussion of the implications for immigrant families in the United States and those of us who are determined to support them during these troublesome times.
Review of the Literature
Political strife over immigration policy is not unique to the current era. However, antiimmigrant rhetoric, policy, and action have escalated in the United States following the 2016 presidential election, causing the hopes and dreams for a pathway to citizenship for many immigrants to reach a new low. According to national policy, undocumented immigrants across the nation are not allowed to apply for legal status, for example, green cards or permanent residency. For an immigrant to change status, the law requires that he or she entered the United States legally. Thus, individuals, who have resided in the United States for years, are caught in a vicious cycle. To avoid detention and deportation, undocumented people across the country increasingly live in the shadows in response to fear of apprehension by local law enforcement or Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officials across the nation (Leopold, 2017).
The hopes and dreams of DACA recipients for permanent legal status and naturalization are uncertain as well. The DACA program, announced by President Obama in 2012, provided relative security for children brought to the United States illegally by their parents before turning 16 years. Although the program continues to date, multiple states across the United States have taken steps to end the program. Meanwhile Congress has repeatedly clashed throughout 2017 and 2018 over resolutions to provide long-term stability and legal status for this group of more than 700,000 young adults across the country (Yee, 2018). The seemingly endless uncertainty takes its toll on young DACA recipients and their families, leading them to question their future in America, the only country that many of them have ever known.
Deportation Threat and Its Effects on Families
The medical community continues to study the short- and long-term effects of detention and deportation on individuals and their families. Forced family separation causes psychosocial trauma in adults and children alike, contributing to depression, anxiety, and despondency. Subsequent stressors such as housing and food insecurity exacerbate the conditions for the family unit (Brabeck, Lykes, & Hunter, 2014). Fear and mistrust of others is common, particularly of those associated with the government such as police, health care workers, school personnel, and social workers (Dreby, 2015). Avoidance of government workers frequently leads to poor access to services that could alleviate the stress, contributing to failure to thrive in school, work, and life. Latino immigrants in particular experience high levels of acculturative stress following deportation and detention. Acculturative stress arises from events or stressors for which individuals feel they lack the ability or resources to cope. Lack of legal status, language proficiency, and understanding of rights all contribute to heightened acculturative stress for Latino immigrant families in the United States (Arbona et al., 2010).
The phenomenon of deportation threat affects most mixed-status families, not just those who have experienced separation from a loved one. Persistent worry that an undocumented member of the family will be pulled over while driving or become the victim of a raid at work clouds daily existence (Leiner, De la Vega, & Johansson, 2017). This ever-present fear causes many families to retreat into the shadows, which in turn contributes to the deterioration of mental and physical well-being. Wessler (2011) found that immigrants experiencing deportation threat are less likely to seek health care for themselves and their children, despite an increase in symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, such as loss of appetite, disruption in sleep patterns, and debilitating anxiety. The medical literature unequivocally demonstrates the negative impact of deportation threat on mixed-status families.
Method
The purpose of this study was to bear witness to the participants’ struggle and resilience through narrative inquiry and Latina/o Critical Race Theory (LatCrit). A critical race theory in education places issues of race and racism at its center, seeking to promote social justice and liberation for people of color (Solorzano & Bernal, 2001). More specifically, LatCrit emphasizes the investigation of how race, gender, sexuality, and class affect the lives of Latinos, including the effects of immigration status on one’s lived reality. The stories of the participants in this study represent testimonios, an important methodological tool for LatCrit researchers. Testimonios allow participants to authentically narrate events from their perspectives, often as an expression of a collective experience (Pérez Huber, 2010). Rooted in Latino storytelling tradition, testimonios give voice to the experiences of oppressed groups, striving to reveal injustices at the hands of the dominant group.
Profiles of the Participants
The site of the study was a small town in a southeastern state with less than 4% Hispanics as part of the overall population. To protect the identity of the participants, the four college students are referred to by first name pseudonyms and the six parents by Señor (Sr.)/Señora (Sra.) and surname pseudonyms. The parents had all lived in the United States for more than a decade as undocumented immigrants from Mexico. Each parent had at least two children of elementary school age who were born in the United States. The DACA recipients were college students at a regional university in the same state and all were brought to the United States from Latin America as undocumented minors more than a decade ago. These two groups of participants were not related to one another, nor did they know one another.
Data Collection
Testimonios were elicited through open-ended questions and prompts during focus groups sessions. The questions and prompts were intentionally broad, for example, “How does deportation threat play a role in your life?,” so that participants would explore the topics deeply from their unique perspectives. Two sessions were conducted with parent groups in Spanish while the focus group with the college students was conducted in English.
Responsive interviewing (Rubin & Rubin, 2011) requires the interviewer to listen intently and follow-up with specific questions or requests for elaboration. The goal is to arrive at rich, thick description so that the experience can be understood in all its complexity. The interactive quality of narrative inquiry allows for an open exchange of information. Thus, the participants and I coconstructed meaning through flexible questioning and turn taking that evolved as the conversation progressed.
Data Analysis
A theoretical sampling approach was used throughout the analysis phase; data collection, memoing, coding, and analysis transpired in a cyclical, iterative manner. Immediately following each focus group, I made memos regarding the conversations and nuanced messages conveyed through body language and tone. The focus group sessions were audio-recorded and transcribed by the researcher. After translating the parent focus group to English, a professional translator verified the interpretation through back-translation methodology (Temple & Young, 2004).
Following transcription, the stories were thematically analyzed in three separate phases. Thematic analysis requires that emphasis be placed on what is said as opposed to how (Riessman, 2008). During the first in-depth reading, data were explored for stories that illuminated the immigrant experience and the effects of deportation threat on daily life. Stories were flagged in the transcript and analytic memos were made in the margin. During the second reading, the stories were explored more deeply, requiring iterative analysis and reflection as to what the story revealed about the lived reality of the participants. At this point, descriptive codes were created that applied to the various stories. The codes derived from the participants’ collective voices and what was conveyed about their life experiences; Saldaña (2015) refers to this process as “code weaving.” During the third cycle of analysis, quotes and stories were pulled from the transcripts and compiled under the codes so that they could be further analyzed. This process allowed a polyphonic story to emerge, one that illustrated the code and honored the shared voice and experiences of the group.
In an effort to explore a salient message in each code, I used the process of “theming” (Saldaña, 2015). According to DeSantis and Ugarriza (2000), “a theme is an abstract entity that . . . captures and unifies the nature or basis of the experience into a meaningful whole” (p. 362). Saldaña (2015) recommends extending each code, represented at that point by just a word or phrase, into a longer and more expressive form. By adding the verb means or is to a code and then extending the thought, the researcher seeks to create a richer, more descriptive phrase that captures the essence of the phenomenon. I utilized the process of theming for the codes identified in the data. The themes then served as a springboard for discussion of the data and are found in the introductory sentence of each section of the findings.
The use of in vivo codes in the findings section allows me to “prioritize and honor the participants’ voices” (Saldaña, 2015, p. 74). The Latin root, in vivo, means, “that which is alive” and is frequently used in qualitative research to preserve the power and authenticity of participants’ commentary (Strauss, 1987). These codes come directly from the data and allow the theme to be represented in the most poignant way possible, via the very words of the speakers.
Considerations of Credibility and Trustworthiness
Narrative inquiry inherently involves situated truths. This by no means implies a limitation; the purpose of narrative inquiry is to illuminate the lived and told stories of diverse people. Testimonios, as critical scholarship, seek to demystify and empower marginalized people; they are inherently personal and political as well. By exploring situated truths, we come closer to understanding lived reality, but it must be understood that such truths and knowing are always partial and subjective. Trustworthiness in this study was triangulated through the open reflexivity of the researcher and the abundance of direct quotes. The data cannot be compared nor replicated; yet the stories in and of themselves compel consideration of what life is like for millions of people in the United States during this turbulent era of antiimmigrant sentiment.
Findings
Through reflexive narrative analysis, I discovered parallel, yet complementary, stories in the data from the two groups. The parent participants gave voice to the daily struggles of undocumented immigrants while the college students’ stories revealed the frustrated hopes and dreams for legal status and their constant concern for their parents’ plight. Although the participant groups did not know one another, their stories reflected a common understanding of the far-reaching effects of deportation threat on mixed-status immigrant families. Following are the themes that emerged from their testimonios.
Theme 1: Conflicted Identity
Conflicted identity for mixed-status immigrant families means not knowing when and whether they can embrace being American anymore. The participant groups in this study had passionate feelings about the United States, their adopted country, but their feelings were complicated by the 2016 presidential election and its aftermath. In general, the parent group was cautious about expressing their frustrations and negative feelings while the students were more comfortable with expressing themselves politically.
In vivo code: Families with American dreams
The parents talked extensively about the lengths to which they had gone to build a life in America over the past decade. Although there were many tough times when they first arrived, the challenges were mainly associated with learning enough English to function and getting to know the community. Multiple participants asserted that they had come for work and to create a better life for their future children. They worried that many people believe that immigrants had taken jobs from Americans. Sra. Zuniga stated, “We want everyone to know that we did not come here to take away anyone’s jobs. We just want to work if it is offered to us. The owners gave us jobs. They need us.” Her husband, Sr. Zuniga added, “the truth is that we are exploited . . . because we don’t have papers, but we get the job done and we behave well.” In a separate focus group session, Sra. Perez expressed worry about Americans’ perceptions of immigrant workers: I don’t know, some Americans just don’t want us here because they think we took their jobs. But really, we didn’t come here to take anything from anyone. For example, where my brother and I work, our managers recognize our hard work. We came here out of necessity and we like to work.
The parents were painfully aware that immigrants were being blamed for making lives harder for working-class Americans. Whereas previously they felt accepted by community members, Sra. Alcántara said she felt like they were now viewed as “bichos raros” (strange bugs) and Sra. Silva ended one focus group session by poignantly wondering, “I just don’t understand why so many people hate us.”
Sra. Perez and Sra. Silva, who are sisters-in-law, reminisced about happier times when they arrived in the United States in 2003. “You didn’t see worries everywhere,” stated Sra. Silva, and Sra. Perez added, “No, then friends could play soccer together in the park, we went out, we went to parties.” “Peacefully,” added her sister-in-law. When asked if they were currently afraid to go out in the community, Sra. Perez shared this: Yes, sometimes. Right now, for example, during break from the school, the girls don’t know, but sometimes my daughter asks, “Mommy, let’s go the zoo or the aquarium,” but we can’t do things like that like before because of the racism.
The parents no longer feel safe to socialize openly in the community and only drive “out of necessity,” a situation that affects the lifeworld of the entire family. Although they consider themselves to be “families with American dreams,” they are living their lives in the shadows and question their identity as American families anymore.
In vivo code: Ni de aquí, ni de allá
This old Spanish proverb, popularized over the decades through books, movies, and plays, means “Neither from here, nor from there” and encapsulates the way that many Dreamers view their cultural identity. In the midst of a discussion about dual nationality, Marisol, a college senior, used the proverb to communicate her feelings: I always go back to the same Ni de aquí, ni de allá because I mean, yeah, this is what I know. I always tell people, you could put me on a bus and send me to Mexico or tell me to leave, but when I get there, I don’t know the customs. I might know the language and I might know the culture, but you know, it’s very different from here . . . this is what I know, this is the culture I am accustomed to, but sometimes I feel like I’m not always part of everything. You know, the patriotism, the red-white-and-blue till I die. I don’t feel that.
The 2016 election and presidential transition had a significant impact on how they viewed themselves as Americans. Although fear about losing their legal status and their parents’ safety “isn’t a new feeling,” the tone and rhetoric of the new administration left them feeling “confused” and “devastated.” Shocked at the lack of concern among non-Latino classmates regarding the new administration’s antiimmigrant stance, these students began to wonder whom to trust anymore. Javier, a college senior originally from El Salvador, told this story: Well, to me, I can understand people . . . who just don’t know anything about immigration. The ones I have a hard time of forgiving, well, for example, I have some friends—quote, unquote—who, I’ve told them my story because they asked. I’ve told them my story and they still voted for Trump and they’re like, “What’s the big deal? It’s just my political voice.” And I think, “Yes, that’s the problem. You just used your political voice and expressed that I shouldn’t be here.”
The insensitivity of many of their American classmates astounded and hurt them, feeling like a “personal attack” and a “betrayal.” Marisol shared her shock and dismay at her roommates’ lack of sensitivity during the election campaign: I remember watching one of the last debates. We’re sitting there and I’m pretty sure that all three of my roommates voted for Trump, and I remember sitting there and they know, I talk to them. I asked them, I literally asked them, “Even after everything I told you about what so many people have gone through and how many people are still in the same situation, you’re still going to do that?” And one of my roommates was like, “Well, I might not agree with everything he says, but I’m just going to vote for him because he’s anti-abortion.” Those were her exact words and I was like “Ahhhh!” It gave me such an eye twitch.
These young college students had attended elementary and secondary school in this southern state, surrounded by Whites, and were accustomed to socializing with diverse people. Yet now, comments from classmates and roommates were causing them to turn more to one another for support and protection. This was not surprising considering the types of comments their peers were comfortable with saying to them, such as the following story from Marisol: What baffles me even more is that they take it like a joke. They say, “Well, if he’s president, we’ll just hide you out at the house if they come looking for you. I was like, “That’s not funny!” Maybe if we were more serious-level of friends, and you hadn’t voted for him, I might talk to you about hiding me, but the fact that you voted for him, “I’m thinking, “Yeah, sure, you’ll hide me.” I won’t feel safe.
According to Maslow (1943), safety is one of the primary needs for human growth and development, second only to physiological needs for water, food, oxygen, and so on. The fact that this group of young people and their families no longer felt safe in America dramatically affected their sense of community and belonging, self-esteem, and self-actualization, the next three stages in Maslow’s hierarchy. Conflicted identity about their place as Americans and their daily security demonstrated the compounding stress associated with deportation threat.
Theme 2: Pervasive Danger and Uncertainty in Daily Lives
Pervasive danger and uncertainty are a constant presence in the daily lives of undocumented immigrants, enveloping them in a cloud of vulnerability and fear. The participants’ testimonies made it clear that life in America had gotten “much worse than before” for them, darker and more threatening, since immigration moved to the top of the new administration’s political agenda.
In vivo code: Now we live with fear
The parents in this study repeatedly asserted that they “just want to stay here for (their) children so they can study and get ahead.” Since the election, the parents noted increased stress and worry in their children. Sra. Alcántara somberly stated, “We can’t underestimate their awareness. They worry more than we know” before she shared this testimonio: My daughter is just six years old and sometimes she has trouble going to sleep. She is aware of what happened. She is very smart and she can’t be deceived. When this president was elected, she came home crying from school and said, “Mom, we’re all going to be sent to Mexico, all of us” and she was so sad and stayed sad for several days.
Sra. Zuniga said that she frequently warned her daughter “to be careful” around her classmates in the very red state where they lived. All the parents felt the need to reassure their children that they were safe “because (they) were born here,” but even these young children knew that their legal status could not guarantee their parents’ safety.
Another common theme in the conversations with parents was the ever-present fear associated with driving. They were well aware of police profiling of undocumented immigrants in the area; thus, the anxiety about driving had dramatically increased throughout 2017 and 2018. Sr. Zuniga shared this testimonio, his anxiety evident in his voice and mannerisms as he spoke: And to go to our jobs, we have to drive and we can’t get a license. And every time we are out driving and we see a patrol car, we think, “Is it okay?” I feel so nervous and my hands shake and I think, “Oh, they’re going to see me, they’re going to stop me.” This fear is always, always there. We’re just going to work, but we live with this fear always.
It was absolutely necessary to drive for work, so Sra. Perez said, “We go out and we pray to God to take care of us so that we can return safely” for, as Sra. Alcántara said, “This is our greatest fear—to go out and not come back home and not return home to them. It is what worries us most—our children.”
In vivo code: Planning for the worst
In 2012, when the DACA program was announced, the future brightened for the college students in the study. After years of frustration and despondency over the failure of the DREAM act, Marisol remembered the passage of DACA with this testimonio: I like to say that it was like a key being slowly given to you, all these opportunities opening up. I remember my mom crying and being all excited . . . all these doors that weren’t open previously and now, I can go get a job, go get a driver’s license, have a social (security number), have all these things that previously I’d seen all my friends getting. And I didn’t know what that felt like.
Although DACA was never viewed as a saving grace because it did not provide a pathway to citizenship, it was a beginning. Young people across the nation began to make plans, to hope, and to dream of a better future for themselves and their families.
About 4 years later, when candidate Trump began threatening the DACA program in stump speeches across the nation, the students began to worry. It did not feel real, however, until the night of the election and the results were coming in. Rocio remembers being on campus the night of the 2016 election in this way: My roommates didn’t understand my level of worry. I remember watching the race; I had it up on my computer. I had one page up with the election results and one page up with all my classes because it was registration deadline. You know, I was like looking at it and thinking, “Do I even register for classes?” If he takes that away right now, what’s the point?
Marisol likewise wrestled with next steps after the election as she conveyed here: He could take away my DACA. I was at that point when I had to reapply, when I had to pay $500 and I was like, “Do I go ahead and know that maybe that could happen or do I take the risk and not reapply?” I went ahead and reapplied so now I have it again for two years, but it was just—it’s been very hard because I’m a senior now. I’m about to graduate in May. I have to think of my life afterward . . . There are so many things going on in my head, now that I’m an adult, but what if I, what if something happens, and I don’t finish the dreams that I have here, and I have to go back?
At this point in her testimonio, she was overwhelmed with emotion and had to stop. Marisol rubbed her friend on the back and took over talking for her, “Yeah, it’s been very confusing. And, it’s hard because of lot of people just don’t understand.”
Following the 2016 election, the DACA program became an ever-present subject of political debate, its existence perpetually held in sway by bipartisan conflict. Javier felt that DACA recipients were being treated like “bargaining chips.” All the college student participants shared that they have gone through different scenarios for their future, from exploring their options in their home countries to applying for Canadian citizenship. Each day that they stayed in the United States felt like gambling with their lives. Javier stated, “We’re being played as chess pieces in a bigger political game (but) what is missing is that we are people.”
The students acknowledge that concern about their impending DACA expiration dates was always on their minds, but their greatest worry was their parents’ safety. The unrelenting stress and constant worry “totally affects our lives and what we’re thinking,” shared Rocio. Javier shared his concern that if his parents were deported, there would not be jobs for them, saying, “I worry mostly about my parents because even though they’re young for the workforce in the U.S., in El Salvador, they’re already considered too old to be hired for any profession, even though they’re in their 40s.” He went on to talk about his job options in El Salvador, conveying as all the others did, that if their parents were to be deported, they would join them in their home country. He described their situation as “the Sophie’s choice of immigration (but) we are willing to sacrifice our legal status for their safety.”
Gilberto, the son of a single mom, felt that he had to “carry her stress” while also educating his younger sister of her rights. He did all he could to teach his sister to speak up for her rights as a U.S. citizen, but worried what could happen to her if he and his mom are deported. He passionately stated, “She has a right to fulfill her dreams here because this is her country, but how is she going to do that if she doesn’t have anybody here?” Despite the pressures of a full schedule of college classes and a part-time job, his mother’s safety was always at the forefront of his mind. Whenever his mom’s number showed up on his phone, he said, “It always pops into my mind: What happened? Is she okay? Did they find her? Was there is a raid?” He admitted that the constant fear was wearing him down, but he was more concerned about the stress that his mom had to endure on a daily basis. He told this story to demonstrate the threat of deportation in her life: A month ago, my mom was at a gas station close to our house. She was paying for the gas and coming out of the gas station and she saw the vans (ICE) and she like freaked out and she was in shock. So, she didn’t know what to do, so she just stood there, and she said that like her whole life went through her mind.
The event prompted a family discussion about guardianship of his sister and the next week, they met with an attorney to complete paperwork. He joked, “So it made it real. I might eventually have to look out for a 6th grade girl and then myself. I can’t do that!” and his friends around the table laughed. Then, he added somberly, “But to this day, it’s scary and it’s scary in so many ways.”
Theme 3: Family Comes First
The safety and well-being of family members always came first for the participants in the study. According to Lynch and Hanson (2011), the Latino culture, although highly diverse overall, is generally collectivist by nature. The family unit and a “we” mentality take precedence over individuality and achievement, dramatically influencing the worldview and behavioral patterns of Latinos. It is, therefore, not surprising that these two groups of participants were always thinking, worrying, and looking out for the members of their family.
In vivo code: A better future for our children
Although the topic of how the parents had endured the migration from their homes in Mexico and the crossing of the U.S. border was not central to the conversations, the sacrifices they had made were an underlying current. Sra. Perez clearly stated, “We have suffered,” but did not choose to elaborate. Instead, the conversations with parents repeatedly returned to the hopes and dreams they had for their children.
Each focus group session ended with this question: If you had the opportunity to send a message to the president and the American people, what would you want to say? The parent participants took the question seriously and most made serious pleas to the imagined audience. Sra. Zuniga, typically humble and reserved, adamantly stated, There are many people who have received us with open arms and given us the opportunity to show that we are here and we came to work. We came here looking for a better life for ourselves and for our children. Our children are citizens, American citizens. The only thing we want is to work and to have a better life for ourselves. We want to support the country too, my husband works and we contribute taxes. We just want to make a living for our family. We ask for that opportunity. May God touch the heart of all, and know that we are happy here.
Sra. Alcántara, thought for a moment and quietly said, A message? My opinion? I love this country and I’ve been here 16 years. I have a life here, my family is here, my life. I see this country as part of me. I am not here to do anything wrong. I am not a bad person. And if this message could reach the president or someone else and touch their heart, I wish that they could see that not all Hispanics who are here, not all are bad people. We are here because we love this country and we consider it our country also, and we have a family here, and we like the way of life here. It is another world. It is much better here for us than in our country. We are here because we want to make a better future for our children.
Sr. Zuniga considered the question as well and added, “I want to say thank you to this country that has received us with open arms . . . let us stay here and raise our children” prompting Sra. Alcántara to reiterate, “We are families with American dreams and we want our children to be successful.”
During the other focus group, parents shared messages but the tone was more cautious and wary. Sisters-in-laws Sra. Silva and Sra. Perez considered the question and Sra. Perez began: “Well, in my opinion, if he won’t give us papers, if he won’t give us anything, please just let us work so that our children can have better lives. Nothing else. In peace. Just let us . . .” Here she hesitated, unsure of how to express herself, but her sister-in-law, Sra. Silva, picked up where she left off by saying, “Just let us stay here for our children, so they can study and get ahead. We were never able to do that.” Another participant, Sr. Silva, just shook his head and declined to respond.
In vivo code: We are willing to sacrifice
The senior year of college should be a time of celebration and hope for young adults preparing to enter the next phase of adult life. The four DACA recipients that participated in this study, however, faced a more complex future than most graduating seniors did. The aftermath of the 2016 presidential election spurred them to grow up all too quickly. Their testimonios demonstrated not only how savvy they were about politics, in particular the immigration debate, but also how skeptical. When asked the final question about sending a message to President Trump, the group became abruptly quiet; two students shook their heads and the others simply said, “No, no” and “What good would it do?”
Instead, the individuals in this group made it clear that they will continue to seek avenues for justice for themselves and their families. They all realized that their parents had spent years focused on them, but now, the tables had turned as Marisol shared: My parents have always said, “If there is never any protection for us, we’re okay as long as you and your brother are protected” which hurts me, because yes, I’ve been very thankful that this was coming, but in reality, I wanted them to also have the same opportunities that I’ve had since DACA.
Later in the conversation, when the subject of the new president’s intermittent assurances that he would help DACA recipients came up, Marisol stated, “I guess for my parents, they probably feel a lot better to know that we’re not being targeted. But, it doesn’t help me, because I’m worried about them.” Javier asserted, “Yes. The danger is much bigger for them.”
A political science major, Javier is sadly cynical about the American political process as this testimonio demonstrates: Definitely all the rules that I’d been taught about how presidents should behave, what they should say, or what politicians should do, or how politicians are held accountable, it’s just completely different now. It’s disheartening . . . I think last week, President Trump announced that there wasn’t going to be another DACA deal. I was just like, “Well, why kid ourselves? We knew there wouldn’t be a DACA deal coming out of this presidency.” Now we have to contemplate what to do if we have to give up our freedom in exchange for our parents, for being together. That’s just a choice that no one can make. And that’s the paradox we’re stuck in. Basically, the administration is telling us, “Turn in your parents, turn in your friends, and you’ll get your freedom” and that’s just not a choice any of us are willing to make.
For months, they had tolerated feeling like political “bargaining chips” while trying not to lose hope entirely. Gilberto described his commitment to empower his younger sister with this testimonio: My sister, at least she has me. I can fight for her too, but a lot of these other kids don’t have an older brother or an older sibling—someone who knows the ropes and knows what can happen—you know your rights. So some kids, their only role model is their parents who are full of fear about deportation. They’re not going to instill that in their kids and they’re not going to grow up fighting for it or defending their rights as citizens. Now my sister knows and she is letting her friends know, too.
This group of young people relied on the collective power of family and used that to buoy themselves through difficult times.
Discussion and Implications
For decades, comprehensive immigration reform has failed repeatedly, leaving millions of immigrants in the United States with uncertain futures. The lack of reform has caused the unauthorized immigrant population to reach alarmingly high numbers, yet the system offers little to no options for refugees at the border and those abroad, nor options for those already living within the United States. The situation for unauthorized immigrants has become particularly precarious and dangerous in the current era. As these testimonios demonstrate, stress associated with the fear of deportation and family separation erodes the emotional well-being of all members of mixed-status families.
The brave and resilient parents and DACA recipients who participated in this study are representative of the vast majority of immigrants in America; they are law-abiding, hard-working community members, intent on a brighter future. As one participant said, “We are families with American dreams,” but those dreams now seem unreachable. Research from the medical and mental health community has shown that food and housing insecurity, compounded by the threat of detention and deportation, is a toxic concoction for immigrant families. The socioecological environment affects all in its orbit and has long-term negative effects on children’s cognitive, emotional, and behavioral development as well as significant negative effects on adults’ mental and physical health (Edwards & Black, 2017; Suárez-Orozco, Yoshikawa, Teranishi, & Suárez-Orozco, 2011). With the unrelenting pressure and strain of worry, these families will likely continue to struggle to thrive and survive in the United States unless they receive support and assistance from the community.
Educators, mental health professionals, and medical providers need to be aware of the impact of deportation threat as they work with mixed-status families. Training needs to take place that addresses symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment of this unique form of stress on adults and children alike. Teachers and social workers should develop cultural competence and political awareness to interact sensitively and appropriately with families in distress. Schools and community centers must offer relief in the form of support groups and assistance programs offered in the native language. Wrap-around services to address the comprehensive needs of mixed-status families are gravely needed.
DACA recipients have endured protracted debate over their status for years; the unrelenting stress and worry regarding their shrouded future wears them down. Although these young adults are socially and politically conscious, the impact on their sense of belonging and self-esteem is of concern. Many DACA recipients show great potential to contribute professionally and politically to the only country they know, but they now have a diminished sense of efficacy. Professors and counselors who work with DACA students in schools, colleges, and work settings need to show interest and care for their situation. They must also demonstrate cultural competence and sensitivity regarding the topic; this may require specific training and professional development. As data from this study shows, multicultural sensitivity training is also necessary for college students who interact with DACA peers.
Furthermore, the affordability of college and the lack of access to aid for DACA recipients and unauthorized youth in some states need to be addressed. These young adults will play an important role in our future professional workforce; they are poised to be catalysts for change in our society. Thus, civic engagement and political involvement should be fostered and supported by mentors in the secondary and postsecondary setting. Although DACA recipients may feel frustrated and vulnerable from being used as political bargaining chips, the participants in this study showed that they are willing and able to engage in conversations about the immigration debate and be part of the solution.
By sharing these testimonios, I hope to illustrate the plight of mixed-status families in small-town America during the current era. Those of us who have the privilege of working with and knowing immigrants who live among us are empathetic to their struggle. We know the human face behind the immigration debate; their stories must be told so that the hearts of others are touched as well.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.