Here, a U.S. citizen from Chicago shares the story of what happened to his relatives as immigrants from Latin America. Although the essay exceeds the usual Viewpoints word limit, we are running it in full because it has such important things to say about the immigrant experience. The writer’s name remains anonymous for safety’s sake.
As a little kid, did you ever wonder how you got here? Growing up in Chicago I knew I stood out with my skin color. Growing up in the Portage Park area which at the time was primarily a Polish area, I was the only brown skinned person in the neighborhood. As I got older, I started looking more into my culture. I’m Ecuadorian but I was born and raised in Chicago. My curiosity sparked and I began to ask questions about my parents’ and other relatives’ arrival to Chicago.
Here is part of what I learned. (I will not use their real names, for safety reasons.)
My mother-in-law Maria (17 years old) and father-in-law Al (19) arrived in the United States in the summer of 1981. What was a marital disagreement turned out to be life changing for my parents-in-law. Maria, with her new born son, traveled to Tijuana, Mexico after she and Al separated. She went there because her sister who was in Los Angeles promised to help her. When Maria got to the border, she had no way of contacting her sister and knew no one. As she contemplated what to do, a blonde white lady approached her and asked if she needed help. Being very limited, Maria explained to her that she needed to get to her sister who lived in LA and needed help in crossing the border. The blonde lady directed Maria into her car, which was filled with watermelons and various fruits, and told her to sit in the back seat with the baby. She told Maria that if she got questioned all she had to say was that she was the nanny and that the baby was the blonde lady’s. Crossing the border was nerve wrecking for Maria; she was so nervous not only about the border patrol but about the stranger who was so willing to help her. Maria was especially concerned for her own safety as well as her baby’s. Luckily, when the car approached the border patrols, the blonde lady simply showed her ID, stating that she lives right across the border and only came into Mexico to purchase her produce. It seems so simple and unrealistic but that is how Maria and her baby crossed the border. Once Maria was in the United States, the blonde lady took her to a motel where Maria was able to call her sister and wait for her to pick her up.
For my father-in-law, Al, things were a lot easier. His father owned land and had assets in Mexico that gave him the privilege of obtaining a visiting visa to the United States and being an heir to those assets. After learning that Maria was heading to LA, Al began the process of obtaining his visa. Weeks later he was granted a 90-day visa and flew to LA. He and Maria worked things out and decided to remain in the United States together since Maria was already working under a pseudo name in the fields. Al began to work there too and overstayed his visa.
They saved their money and in a matter of months both agreed to venture out to Chicago. Chicago winter was something that neither Al nor Maria had experienced before. Their lack of preparation for cold weather resulted in their baby becoming ill. What seemed at the time a moment of turmoil, however, turned out to be a blessing thanks to the amnesty that President Regan granted in 1986. That year he signed the Immigration Reform and Control Act, which granted amnesty to millions of undocumented immigrants who had entered the United States before 1982. The law also aimed to curb illegal immigration by imposing penalties on employers who knowingly hired undocumented workers. Seeing a doctor not only helped get the baby healthy but also provided documentation, proving that Maria and Al were in the United States before January 1, 1982. In 1986, they submitted their paperwork and became legal residents.
From the time they arrived in Chicago to the time they became residents, Al and Maria were in constant fear of getting deported. Since they refused to work under fake work permits or fake social security numbers, making ends means was hard for them. Being a family of four, with two kids under four years old, they would often travel together to a farm in Wisconsin and load their pickup truck with fresh fruit and drive back to Chicago to sell it. Opting to be where foot traffic is high, they would park their pickup truck at busy intersections, tending the kids and selling the produce at the same time. Because this was a time of increased ICE raids, somewhat like the raids of 2025, Al and Maria were questioned one day. “Let me see your papers,” ICE agents asked. With broken English, Al replied, “green card home.” The ICE agents detained the four of them and seized their truck. Maria pleaded with the agents to let them go, crying and trying to touch their hearts, to no avail. Al was taken in a different car from Maria who remained with her two children and was taken to a facility. Since Al did all the driving, Maria did not know the location she was at, and even now cannot point out where it was. She describes the facility as being cold. She was put in a cell that already had a few women and children. Screams and yelling were all she heard; many were pleading, praying or using profanity towards the ICE agents. Maria remembers being there for countless hours with no water or food being offered. She was not concerned about herself but was distraught for her small children who were scared, cold and hungry. Maria remembers her youngest, who was born in the United States, asking for “soupy.” In those moments, she felt lost and defeated, her mind racing with all the unknown possibilities of where she and her children might end up, where Al, her husband, was or his well-being. The ICE agent called people one by one and they would not return. Maria was the last one to be called and as she and her children walked up to the ICE agent, she was told to follow him. The agent did not say a word to Maria or ask any questions; he simply led Maria and her children out a door to the outside. It wasn’t until 1997 when Maria, Al and their first born were granted their permanent resident card and they both became U.S. citizens in the early 2000s.
My brother-in-law Fernando’s story is quite different. In 2008 at just 21years old, he decided to travel from Guatemala to the United States. As an only child, he needed to provide and care for his mother. The scarcity of jobs in Guatemala solidified his decision to come to the United States. He took all his savings and hired a coyote, a person who gets paid to smuggle you into the United States. Once at the U.S. border, the coyote took his money and gave poor instructions to the group that was trying to cross. The poor instructions led to their capture about 3-4 miles from the border. Once he was captured, the border patrol took them into custody. During his detention, Fernando was photographed, fingerprinted and forced to sign English documents without any explanation. After what seemed to be days, Fernado recalls being put in a van and getting dropped off in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico. Not knowing of his surroundings, he relied on two males who seemed to be familiar with that city. Fernando remained in that location for a few weeks, working odd jobs that would earn him a few pesos so he could buy food for the day. After a few weeks, Fernando and the two men attempted their crossing once again, this time making it successfully. Hitch-hiking his way northbound, Fernando made it to Chicago. He stayed with family and was able to find a stable job. In 2012, Fernado met my sister-in-law, that little girl who asked for “soupy” while Maria was detained with her two children. My sister-in-law was born in the United States and as her and Fernando’s love grew, wedding preparations were begun. It was not until they obtained their marriage license that he was questioned. When he found out he had an order of deportation, he sought a lawyer immediately. Trying their best to mend the situation, my sister-in-law submitted her sponsorship paperwork as Fernando was now her husband. They received the unfortunate news that he was ineligible to apply for his green card due to being deported in 2008. That paperwork that he had signed without knowing what he was signing was a document that made him agree to never come back to the United States. The marriage license showed that Fernando had been living in the United States and therefore violating the document he signed. Not even marrying a US citizen would help him get a legal status here in the United States. Feeling defeated, my sister-in-law and Fernando began planning their move to Guatemala. Meanwhile, while those plans were set in motion, they both continued to work to save as much money as possible.
One day on his return from work, Fernando was stopped at a red light when four masked men approached his vehicle with guns drawn and forced him out of his vehicle. They beat him black and blue and took his wallet, phone and car. Some good Samaritans called the police and Fernando was transported to the hospital. He had been beaten so badly that he suffered a concussion, dislocated shoulder, injury to his eye socket and many more cuts and bruises. Fernando was in critical condition for several days but thankfully made a full recovery. While recovering, he also suffered from PTSD. It took him months to even attempt to drive or get in a vehicle. Once he was able to get in a vehicle, he experienced trauma at every traffic light or whenever people would be walking bundled up in the winter. My sister-in-law sought therapy for him and that helped Fernando tremendously. In one of the many lawyer meetings that Fernando went to, he related to his lawyer what had happened to him and how it had affected him. The lawyer asked many questions and requested hospital records. Confused, Fernando asked why the lawyer was so interested in that information, and to both my sister-in-law and Fernando’s surprise, the lawyer told them that he would build a case for a U-Visa. Being a victim of a crime had given Fernando an opportunity to have a path towards remaining here in the United States. Although that process was lengthy, it has given Fernando a work permit and a temporary driver’s license and hope that soon he will be able to apply for his green card.
My relatives’ perseverance shows that immigration is not only about legal status, but also about courage, resilience, and the hope for a better life. I have been moved by things such as my parents-in-law coming to Chicago and embracing the weather conditions and my brother-in-law coming out of his near-death experience. Their sacrifices remind me of where I come from and why understanding immigration reform matters as it continues to determine the futures of millions of people who, like my family, have made the United States their home.