The individuality of the immigrant community | Cristo Armando Carrasco Mendoza | TEDxUNC

Ten days ago, a heavy U.S. immigration and customs enforcement presence was recognized in Charlotte, North Carolina. Across all of my social media platforms, I saw posts, tweets, and videos detailing their activity. One of the posts alleged that ICE was enabling traffic stops in areas where there were a large population of immigrants, while another showed a video of a young man in handcuffs. I texted my dad that morning, asking if he was aware of the ICE activity. He and my mom live in Charlotte and travel to and from work without the privilege of a driver's license. Though I was in class that day, a thousand thoughts passed through my head. As the day wore on, I became increasingly worried about the security and well-being of my parents. Six hours had passed since I had first texted my dad, and I still had received no response. At this point of the day, I was making my way to a community health clinic that I volunteer at, and on my commute there, I noticed a police cruiser behind me, and instantly, I felt so vulnerable. I felt as if I was going to be undoubtedly detained and pulled over. Once I arrived at the clinic and collected my thoughts, I pondered how my parents felt that day. I thought about all the sacrifices that they made in order to build a life in this country. I reminisced on my childhood and the care that I was given, the opportunities that I was afforded despite our lack of financial stability and legal status. I thought about my mom and how, at 20 years old, she made the decision to come into the United States in order to build a better life for herself and for her family, and ultimately, how that decision has affected her for the rest of her life because my loving mother has not seen her parents in more than 18 years. I thought about my dad, who was unable to attend his mother's funeral in Mexico for fear that he would not be able to enter the United States to his family. To some, the ICE raids across North Carolina are relevant, but to me and my community, they are a reminder that the life that we built in this country can be taken away in a few moments. Because of my parents, I'm here before you today, and for them and all of my community, I dedicate this speech. My name is Criso Armando Carrasco Mendoza. I am a pre-medical student, a community service leader, an advocate for immigrant rights, a son and big brother, a lover of dancing and music, and I happen to be undocumented. My dream is to attend medical school and use my medical degree in order to serve marginalized populations, such as undocumented immigrants in North Carolina. Today, I want to talk about changing how we discuss immigrant lives. Unfortunately, my experiences are limited, and I cannot speak of the experiences of others within the immigrant community. I wish I had allies with me today that represent the queer undocumented youth, undocumented women of color, hard-working immigrant fathers and mothers, and immigrants from racial, ethnic, and religious backgrounds different than my own. Moreover, there will always be room for progress. First, it is important that we recognize that immigrants are individuals because it dismantles a narrative characterized to all of us by some outside of our communities. Oftentimes, immigrants are read as a group with no discernible identity, but from my experiences, this is far from the case. Individuals within the immigrant community are unique and vibrant, each rich with passions and stories of resilience. The idea that their feelings, aspirations, and individuality is valuable must be recognized, especially when policies that affect the demographic are discussed. Moreover, when I speak about undocumented immigrants, I'm not limiting the purview to only immigrants like myself, young dreamers that have the privilege to attend university and modulate what it means to be an immigrant in these spaces. I'm including immigrants like our parents and other members of the community who have overcome adversity that is seldom talked about outside of private narratives of close friends and family. How unorthodox but enlightening would it be to learn about an immigrant's reason and experience for coming into the United States? For this reason, I ask that each of you learn more about the real immigrant experience. If we disregard stereotypical immigrant narratives in favor of recognizing individual stories, we can garner understanding about immigrants that is often absent from the rhetoric that is used by some to justify our ill treatment at the borders and in our communities. Second, undocumented students should not be used as a reference point for the entire immigrant community. Specifically, undocumented students and undocumented immigrants should not be panned against one another as good and bad immigrant respectively. As a DACA recipient, I have seen myself and other dreamers praised and recognized as the model immigrant. I have been tokenized in academia, given an extrinsic value to my person. The problem is when I'm given extrinsic value to who I am as an undocumented student, two implications arise. The first, I become a product of my legal status. And the second, immigrants who are not quote unquote dreamers are viewed less favorably or ignored altogether. The first implication is incorrect because I'm so much more than the product of this country's legislative decisions. But the second implication is much profound. Let us all recognize how privileged we are to be in these institutions. Let us realize that immigrants have an intrinsic value such that is given to every citizen of this country, regardless of their advancement in academia. If we are able to dismantle this good versus bad immigrant narrative, we are unable to prevent further marginalization within a demographic that is already misrepresented and misunderstood. But shifting the paradigm includes much more than not viewing undocumented students and undocumented immigrants as good and bad immigrants. It also includes not using undocumented students as a political tactic. Being used as a means through which politicians can leverage support is demeaning and extremely inappropriate. The most prominent showcasing of this occurred recently when the Trump administration proposed to uphold DACA and TPS programs that allow undocumented students to live in the United States legally for another three years in exchange for funding on the border wall. As a DACA recipient, it is infuriating to feel that your legality in the country can be used to retaliate or support against you and members of your community based upon what is most convenient to politicians in power. Not long ago was my legality in the country revoked by the same administration. Ultimately, this gesture out of Capitol Hill indicates that they feel that our lives are free to be gambled with. But let me make one thing clear, my life and that of more than 1 million immigrants under DACA and TPS are not free to be used as bargaining chips and performative legislative antics. Throughout my speech thus far, I have set upon two ideas. Immigrant lives are valuable. They're individuals with passions, feelings, and aspirations that must be recognized. And two, undocumented students should not be used as a reference point nor be used as a political tactic. My third point builds upon the idea that it is okay to acknowledge normative arguments when discussing policies that could affect the demographic. Let us all again recognize, come together, that immigrant lives are valuable. Moreover, the value that we give to immigrant lives should not be derived based upon how this country can capitalize on our contributions. It is normal now to hear that pro-immigrant rhetoric succumbs to the flawed idea that immigrants should be given a path to citizenship based upon how much they can contribute in the form of capital, whether it be taxes or investments, or that undocumented students should have a path to citizenship so that they may continue contributing and become professionals and set upon new fields in academic and economic institutions in the United States. Moreover, qualifying illegality based on those factors is wrong. We are not free to be negotiated or valued upon. If we are able to dismantle the idea that immigrant lives have to have a value outside of what is intrinsic to who they are as a person, then we are able to move forward and promote change. Accordingly, once we move forward, we can enact great and powerful policy. I think Dream Act is a great example of this. This promising bill passed by the New York State Assembly and Senate, sponsored by Luis Sepulveda, is effectively going to become law January 1st of 2020, and it promises that undocumented students in New York can pay in-state tuition at select New York universities and community colleges, and it establishes a Dream Fund that is privately funded to give these scholarships to these students in order to provide an equitable access to opportunities. To me, the Jose Peralta Dream Act symbolizes so much. It emboldens me to keep on dreaming big, and it shows me that long and arduous fights are seldom in vain. I would like to say that speaking in front of you all today has been a momentous privilege and opportunity, and I share this accomplishment with my immigrant community. As I close out today, I ask that each of you consider whether your experiences in life have led you to discuss these problems and solutions that I talked about. If they have, I want you to be critical about what I spoke about today. I want you to assess the validity of my arguments. If your experiences have not led you to discuss these problems and solutions, I ask that you remain open-minded. Members of the second group, I want you to take from my discourse as much as you can to perhaps learn from perspective that may be different than your own. Ultimately, however, I hope that we all leave today more open and excited to discuss these problems and solutions with friends, colleagues, and families. Opening the discourse may well be the first step to promoting change within ourselves and our communities in order to one day afford the millions of immigrants in this country an equitable opportunity in achieving the American dream. Thank you.