Daring to Dream: A Flagstaff 'Dreamer' steps out of the shadows to tell her story. November 26, 2013 5:15 am • By STEPHANIE FLOOD Special to the Daily Sun
Rocio, 26, was born in Chihuahua, Mexico.
When she was 6, Rocio and her mother crossed the border on foot.
“We walked a little bit,” Rocio said. “Just a little bit.”
It took them about five minutes.
“We walked right into a store, maybe a convenience store, I don’t remember.” Rocio said. “There was a car waiting outside. We walked around for a few minutes in there and then walked into the parking lot. Got into this vehicle that drove us into Phoenix, Arizona.”
Today, after 20 years of living in the shadows in Flagstaff, she is finally able to come into the light. Rocio was recently approved for the Obama Administration’s Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) initiative — she is a Dreamer.
Because of this, she has taken a bold step out of the shadows just to tell her story.
Rocio has lived in Flagstaff since 1993 as an undocumented immigrant. Because she was brought to the States as a child, graduated high school, and is in college, she was approved for two years of deferment. (She asked that her last name be withheld to shield other members of her family from publicity.)
“It was in May when it all went through,” Rocio said. “I applied in January and it took about three months for the process.”
Deferment means: Rocio can have a legal work permit and doesn’t have to fear deportation. Deferment does not mean amnesty, she notes
It also doesn’t give immigrants a path to citizenship.
“Once I got my Social Security card in the mail, then I was really happy because now I could legally work, not feel any pressure or feel like I’m doing anything wrong.” Rocio said. “So, yeah, that was a great feeling, but there’s still a lot of limitations.”
The greatest limitation for Rocio is not being able to get a driver’s license in Arizona — Gov. Brewer has said Dreamers do not yet have the legal status required under the law for a license. She also isn’t able to receive in-state tuition at the community college and university here in Flagstaff.
This makes life slightly difficult for her, but she has been used to struggle at this point.
Before the age of 6, Rocio lived in a poor, rural village near Central Mexico. Her maternal grandparents had 11 children, and times were hard for all of the extended family. Most of her family members were in desperate need to search for more opportunities and resources elsewhere.
“So the whole idea about the United States is that there’s work over there.” Rocio said, “That is the main reason to move, to provide for your family.”
There was a lot of violence and corruption in Mexico, too.
“We don’t have any hope for going back to Mexico because it’s so corrupt down there,” Rocio said. “Corruption is crazy, the violence is so high right now, and the drug cartels, kidnappings in daylight and stuff.”
So some undocumented immigrants from Mexico come to the States with a visitor’s visa and purposefully overstay.
Others, like Rocio and her mother, cross the desert illegally by foot.
After crossing the border, 6-year-old Rocio and her mother, single at the time, arrived in Flagstaff in 1993 to stay with family members. For one year, Rocio lived with her aunt, her aunt’s husband, and her four kids in a 3-bedroom house. Later, she lived with her stepdad, mom, and three of her U.S- born siblings.
“We were really poor,” Rocio said. “I remember my mom struggling, making ends meet here. But we were better off than being in Mexico, I could tell a difference.”
Rocio grew up in Sunnyside, on the east side of town. As a child, she rode her bike, played at the park, mingled with her next-door neighbors and started elementary school. She’d often be pulled out of class for English as a Second Language (ESL) classes.
This inability to speak English fluently hindered her academics growing up.
“When I first moved here, school was a challenge,” Rocio said. “A total shock.” I mean, I didn’t know English, so it was difficult. I felt isolated from the rest, because I didn’t really understand anything that they were saying. I think the other kids wanted to be my friend, but we didn’t know how to communicate, so it was a little hard on that.”
Rocio wanted to get a driver’s license like everyone else at around age 15. She and her mom researched licenses and realized she couldn’t get one.
She learned how to drive anyway.
“This is going to sound funny, but it was my older cousin, she was 16 or 17, and we both didn’t have a license,” Rocio said. “So one day, we just grabbed the car, she took me out for a (ride), and I learned how to drive. And then my stepdad coached me. It came easy.”
Rocio’s parents had two cars back then and she used one of them.
Eventually, her family saved up to buy a car just for her. But driving without a license came with consequences. Rocio has been pulled over and ticketed for not having a license. This July, she even had her car towed.
This doesn’t stop her from driving, which she sees driving as a vital form of transportation in Flagstaff.
“Driving a car is one of the little things that is a necessity,” Rocio said. “Especially in Flagstaff, I think it is the best. I mean, our public transportation is not that great yet. I mean, I think it’s better from like 10 years ago,” she jokes.
Rocio was 16 when she was questioned about her immigration status for the first and only time.
“I did commit a traffic violation, so I was stopped and the officer proceeded to ask me about my license. I told him I didn’t have a license. And once I told him that I didn’t have a license, I had two friends with me, also Hispanic. He kind of accused me of being a coyote. He started questioning my friends if they had a license.”
He asked her how she came to the States and if she was bringing her friends across the border. She explained to him that she went to Coconino High School and had a school ID.
“I think he settled down after that,” Rocio said. “But he was kind of aggressive. He calmed down after that, because he kept asking me questions until finally I told him, I think I know my rights, and I have the right to speak to a lawyer and I don’t have to answer any more of your questions.”
The service industry and construction work are the jobs most undocumented immigrants can get, all by getting paid out “under the table.” This is why many people are forced to live in hiding.
“A lot of people that I know that are undocumented either have been working under the table, getting paid cash,” Rocio said, “so they are not on the payroll and the employer doesn’t get in trouble.”
The other way undocumented immigrants have gotten a job in the past was by faking a Social Security number, although this all changed with E-verify.
In the beginning, Rocio’s mother was able to work as a laborer who chopped wood during Flagstaff’s cold winters, and then a housekeeper, often overworked and paid low wages. Rocio, at age 15, started work in the service industry as a hostess and then at fast food restaurants.
It was a precarious balance, living and working undocumented.
“You have to be careful out there,” Rocio said, “You cannot get the attention of law enforcement, especially now with SB 1070, because what could happen is that you could get deported and then be separated by your family here.”
Rocio started as a full-time student at CCC in 2005 until the laws changed on her. Prop. 300 took effect in 2006 and altered her tuition from in-state to out-of-state. This was as a major financial blow to Rocio, who also had to care for her son at the time.
“After that, I got really discouraged,” Rocio said. “I was just crushed. I was like, how am I going to afford that? I thought, there was just no way. So I took a break. A two-year break.”
Her mother was that voice who kept encouraging her to not give up.
“My mom was my motivation,” Rocio said. “She kept saying, “I came here for a better future for you. So you need to keep going to school. You need to have a career. You need to do the right thing.’”
Rocio looked and discovered a working payment plan at the community college. Eventually, after about four years, Rocio graduated with an associate’s degree. Later, she transferred to NAU, but must pay the out-of-state tuition rate of $21,226. That is about $700 a credit hour, or $2,100 for a 3-credit course, the most she can afford at any one time.
Now in November, it seems life is improving for Rocio, being recently DACA-approved. But even though she was almost in tears when she found out she was accepted into the program, her happiness was soon followed by a dark cloud of uncertainty.
“I thought that my life was going to get better after this,” Rocio said, trying to explain this feeling of being stuck in-between. “I was definitely very excited. But now I see the drawbacks. I still can’t get a license but I can work legally, so it was kind of contradicting.”
Also, nobody knows the future of where this status will lead.
“You have to reapply and once President Obama’s gone, any president can remove this,” Rocio said, “We don’t know how long this could be. It could be for the next two years and that’s it.”
But despite the uncertainties, Rocio is still continuing with her education to finish her bachelor’s at NAU, even if it means she can afford only one class per semester,
“My major is in criminal justice,” Rocio said. “That is why I chose a career in law. My family history, and I’ve just seen a lot, not just my family, but my friends, they’ve all been affected by the system.”
After her new DACA status, Rocio has been looking for a promotion in her office job and trying to save up money for next spring’s semester at NAU.
For Rocio, even after this slight improvement, her biggest priority is still her family. She also worries for her mom, who wasn’t initially approved for a visa to come to the United States because she didn’t have property and couldn’t prove she was financially stable.
“I worry about my mom’s future more than anything,” Rocio said. “Because she’s getting older, and she’s been undocumented here for so many years. I almost fear that she might die before there is an immigration reform.”
Leah Mundell, director/organizer for Northern Arizona Interfaith Counci (NAIC), works closely with Arizona Dreamers in Action. NAIC includes immigrant and community leaders who organize around immigrant issues in Flagstaff.
Q: How many undocumented immigrants would you estimate live in Flagstaff?
MUNDELL: It’s certainly safe to say that there are more than a thousand undocumented immigrants in Flagstaff, and there are at least several thousand Flagstaff residents who have an undocumented member of their family.
Q: Where are they from mainly?
A: Well, most of the folks who have been involved in our organizing have been from Mexico and of course that is the overwhelming majority of people in this area. Folks are from Central America and other parts of Latin America as well.
Q: What are their main reasons for migrating?
A: The overwhelming majority is economic hardship. People fear for their children’s futures, and what the possibilities will be for their children. I’ve also heard about people’s fears of violence in Mexico.
Q: Why have they chosen Flagstaff?
A: It seems like it’s usually family connections. Someone came here for a job and the rest of their family follows. Some people have come because they want to get out of the more repressive environment in Phoenix against immigrants. And also, for all the same reasons for people who aren’t immigrants come here. Because it’s a beautiful place to live.
Q: What types of jobs do the undocumented get?
A: People are able to get jobs in either or both the service industry or the construction industry. Of course a lot has changed in the past four or five years, especially in construction. A lot of those construction jobs just dried up because of the recession.
Rocio, 26, was born in Chihuahua, Mexico.
When she was 6, Rocio and her mother crossed the border on foot.
“We walked a little bit,” Rocio said. “Just a little bit.”
It took them about five minutes.
“We walked right into a store, maybe a convenience store, I don’t remember.” Rocio said. “There was a car waiting outside. We walked around for a few minutes in there and then walked into the parking lot. Got into this vehicle that drove us into Phoenix, Arizona.”
Today, after 20 years of living in the shadows in Flagstaff, she is finally able to come into the light. Rocio was recently approved for the Obama Administration’s Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) initiative — she is a Dreamer.
Because of this, she has taken a bold step out of the shadows just to tell her story.
Rocio has lived in Flagstaff since 1993 as an undocumented immigrant. Because she was brought to the States as a child, graduated high school, and is in college, she was approved for two years of deferment. (She asked that her last name be withheld to shield other members of her family from publicity.)
“It was in May when it all went through,” Rocio said. “I applied in January and it took about three months for the process.”
Deferment means: Rocio can have a legal work permit and doesn’t have to fear deportation. Deferment does not mean amnesty, she notes
It also doesn’t give immigrants a path to citizenship.
“Once I got my Social Security card in the mail, then I was really happy because now I could legally work, not feel any pressure or feel like I’m doing anything wrong.” Rocio said. “So, yeah, that was a great feeling, but there’s still a lot of limitations.”
The greatest limitation for Rocio is not being able to get a driver’s license in Arizona — Gov. Brewer has said Dreamers do not yet have the legal status required under the law for a license. She also isn’t able to receive in-state tuition at the community college and university here in Flagstaff.
This makes life slightly difficult for her, but she has been used to struggle at this point.
Before the age of 6, Rocio lived in a poor, rural village near Central Mexico. Her maternal grandparents had 11 children, and times were hard for all of the extended family. Most of her family members were in desperate need to search for more opportunities and resources elsewhere.
“So the whole idea about the United States is that there’s work over there.” Rocio said, “That is the main reason to move, to provide for your family.”
There was a lot of violence and corruption in Mexico, too.
“We don’t have any hope for going back to Mexico because it’s so corrupt down there,” Rocio said. “Corruption is crazy, the violence is so high right now, and the drug cartels, kidnappings in daylight and stuff.”
So some undocumented immigrants from Mexico come to the States with a visitor’s visa and purposefully overstay.
Others, like Rocio and her mother, cross the desert illegally by foot.
After crossing the border, 6-year-old Rocio and her mother, single at the time, arrived in Flagstaff in 1993 to stay with family members. For one year, Rocio lived with her aunt, her aunt’s husband, and her four kids in a 3-bedroom house. Later, she lived with her stepdad, mom, and three of her U.S- born siblings.
“We were really poor,” Rocio said. “I remember my mom struggling, making ends meet here. But we were better off than being in Mexico, I could tell a difference.”
Rocio grew up in Sunnyside, on the east side of town. As a child, she rode her bike, played at the park, mingled with her next-door neighbors and started elementary school. She’d often be pulled out of class for English as a Second Language (ESL) classes.
This inability to speak English fluently hindered her academics growing up.
“When I first moved here, school was a challenge,” Rocio said. “A total shock.” I mean, I didn’t know English, so it was difficult. I felt isolated from the rest, because I didn’t really understand anything that they were saying. I think the other kids wanted to be my friend, but we didn’t know how to communicate, so it was a little hard on that.”
Rocio wanted to get a driver’s license like everyone else at around age 15. She and her mom researched licenses and realized she couldn’t get one.
She learned how to drive anyway.
“This is going to sound funny, but it was my older cousin, she was 16 or 17, and we both didn’t have a license,” Rocio said. “So one day, we just grabbed the car, she took me out for a (ride), and I learned how to drive. And then my stepdad coached me. It came easy.”
Rocio’s parents had two cars back then and she used one of them.
Eventually, her family saved up to buy a car just for her. But driving without a license came with consequences. Rocio has been pulled over and ticketed for not having a license. This July, she even had her car towed.
This doesn’t stop her from driving, which she sees driving as a vital form of transportation in Flagstaff.
“Driving a car is one of the little things that is a necessity,” Rocio said. “Especially in Flagstaff, I think it is the best. I mean, our public transportation is not that great yet. I mean, I think it’s better from like 10 years ago,” she jokes.
Rocio was 16 when she was questioned about her immigration status for the first and only time.
“I did commit a traffic violation, so I was stopped and the officer proceeded to ask me about my license. I told him I didn’t have a license. And once I told him that I didn’t have a license, I had two friends with me, also Hispanic. He kind of accused me of being a coyote. He started questioning my friends if they had a license.”
He asked her how she came to the States and if she was bringing her friends across the border. She explained to him that she went to Coconino High School and had a school ID.
“I think he settled down after that,” Rocio said. “But he was kind of aggressive. He calmed down after that, because he kept asking me questions until finally I told him, I think I know my rights, and I have the right to speak to a lawyer and I don’t have to answer any more of your questions.”
The service industry and construction work are the jobs most undocumented immigrants can get, all by getting paid out “under the table.” This is why many people are forced to live in hiding.
“A lot of people that I know that are undocumented either have been working under the table, getting paid cash,” Rocio said, “so they are not on the payroll and the employer doesn’t get in trouble.”
The other way undocumented immigrants have gotten a job in the past was by faking a Social Security number, although this all changed with E-verify.
In the beginning, Rocio’s mother was able to work as a laborer who chopped wood during Flagstaff’s cold winters, and then a housekeeper, often overworked and paid low wages. Rocio, at age 15, started work in the service industry as a hostess and then at fast food restaurants.
It was a precarious balance, living and working undocumented.
“You have to be careful out there,” Rocio said, “You cannot get the attention of law enforcement, especially now with SB 1070, because what could happen is that you could get deported and then be separated by your family here.”
Rocio started as a full-time student at CCC in 2005 until the laws changed on her. Prop. 300 took effect in 2006 and altered her tuition from in-state to out-of-state. This was as a major financial blow to Rocio, who also had to care for her son at the time.
“After that, I got really discouraged,” Rocio said. “I was just crushed. I was like, how am I going to afford that? I thought, there was just no way. So I took a break. A two-year break.”
Her mother was that voice who kept encouraging her to not give up.
“My mom was my motivation,” Rocio said. “She kept saying, “I came here for a better future for you. So you need to keep going to school. You need to have a career. You need to do the right thing.’”
Rocio looked and discovered a working payment plan at the community college. Eventually, after about four years, Rocio graduated with an associate’s degree. Later, she transferred to NAU, but must pay the out-of-state tuition rate of $21,226. That is about $700 a credit hour, or $2,100 for a 3-credit course, the most she can afford at any one time.
Now in November, it seems life is improving for Rocio, being recently DACA-approved. But even though she was almost in tears when she found out she was accepted into the program, her happiness was soon followed by a dark cloud of uncertainty.
“I thought that my life was going to get better after this,” Rocio said, trying to explain this feeling of being stuck in-between. “I was definitely very excited. But now I see the drawbacks. I still can’t get a license but I can work legally, so it was kind of contradicting.”
Also, nobody knows the future of where this status will lead.
“You have to reapply and once President Obama’s gone, any president can remove this,” Rocio said, “We don’t know how long this could be. It could be for the next two years and that’s it.”
But despite the uncertainties, Rocio is still continuing with her education to finish her bachelor’s at NAU, even if it means she can afford only one class per semester,
“My major is in criminal justice,” Rocio said. “That is why I chose a career in law. My family history, and I’ve just seen a lot, not just my family, but my friends, they’ve all been affected by the system.”
After her new DACA status, Rocio has been looking for a promotion in her office job and trying to save up money for next spring’s semester at NAU.
For Rocio, even after this slight improvement, her biggest priority is still her family. She also worries for her mom, who wasn’t initially approved for a visa to come to the United States because she didn’t have property and couldn’t prove she was financially stable.
“I worry about my mom’s future more than anything,” Rocio said. “Because she’s getting older, and she’s been undocumented here for so many years. I almost fear that she might die before there is an immigration reform.”
Leah Mundell, director/organizer for Northern Arizona Interfaith Counci (NAIC), works closely with Arizona Dreamers in Action. NAIC includes immigrant and community leaders who organize around immigrant issues in Flagstaff.
Q: How many undocumented immigrants would you estimate live in Flagstaff?
MUNDELL: It’s certainly safe to say that there are more than a thousand undocumented immigrants in Flagstaff, and there are at least several thousand Flagstaff residents who have an undocumented member of their family.
Q: Where are they from mainly?
A: Well, most of the folks who have been involved in our organizing have been from Mexico and of course that is the overwhelming majority of people in this area. Folks are from Central America and other parts of Latin America as well.
Q: What are their main reasons for migrating?
A: The overwhelming majority is economic hardship. People fear for their children’s futures, and what the possibilities will be for their children. I’ve also heard about people’s fears of violence in Mexico.
Q: Why have they chosen Flagstaff?
A: It seems like it’s usually family connections. Someone came here for a job and the rest of their family follows. Some people have come because they want to get out of the more repressive environment in Phoenix against immigrants. And also, for all the same reasons for people who aren’t immigrants come here. Because it’s a beautiful place to live.
Q: What types of jobs do the undocumented get?
A: People are able to get jobs in either or both the service industry or the construction industry. Of course a lot has changed in the past four or five years, especially in construction. A lot of those construction jobs just dried up because of the recession.