Illegals, A Message to my Tíos

“Illegals”

Tío German

“Aliens”

Tío Victor

“Foreigners”

Tío Santiago

“Mijita,

Our sacrifices

Our journey

They’re for you

Make us proud.”

My tíos describe crossing the border with nothing but pride.

Their stories of struggle and sacrifice

So that they could provide.

A life in the United States,

The American Dream,

This is what my Tío dealt

with as a teen.

I wonder what he felt.

Was he scared?

Was he lonely?

Was he hungry?

Was he hurt?

Now, I may never know what this journey felt like

And sometimes I can feel it in my heart like a spike

But all that I know from what my Tíos described,

He only ever speaks with pride.

Seventeen years old is the first time

I began to consider my future truly

Like a hill to climb,

With college meetings, grades, and things to decide.

These opportunities are a privilege and a fear

I hoped that no one else could hear.

I think of my family,

The ones who allowed me to shine.

And I call to mind,

Seventeen years old,

My Tío Santiago

Left his home,

His country,

Alone.

I turn back the clock, and I return,

To the time, my Tío had no choice but to flee his home,

I meet him at the border, holding out my hand

And I hope to affirm,

I’m here, and I wish to understand.

This border is nothing but a line in the sand.

Please, take my hand.

I hope you know you were never alone,

I promise you, Tío,

Your story will not be unknown.