The Undocumented Americans (One World Essentials)

by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio

The twisted inversion that many children of immigrants know is that, at some point, your parents become your children, and your own personal American dream becomes making sure they age and die with dignity in a country that has never wanted them. That’s what makes caring for our elderly different from Americans caring for their elderly.

told myself I needed a reminder of why I needed to be successful, so successful, statistical anomaly successful, so I have them saved on my phone to emotionally blackmail myself with.

Right now, I have some discretionary income. But it will not last forever. The guilt I feel having made it out—for now, until my own umbrella breaks—is like having been poisoned. I feel constantly disgusting, dirty, hungover, toxic unless I’m hemorrhaging money in this very specific way that I find cleansing.

“What kills us is loneliness. I feel lonely even in a room full of people. I feel destabilizing anxiety and pain. Doctors say I don’t have anything, but I know I’m sick.”

Finally, to my father—you’ll never know what it is like to carry your father’s heart in yours when it has been so torn to shreds for your sake. I will circle the world many times over telling everyone about its weight, its beauty, and what an honor it was to have known it.