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.