My name is Beverly, and that’s the question I ask myself every day.
My dad got transferred to America when I was four or five years old and I’ve lived here ever since. My dad went back to Kenya when I was around six and a half because he got transferred back, but my mother decided that my brother and I should go to school here. As far as I’m concerned, I’m American through and through…I don’t really know how to be anything else.
When I was a junior in high school, I found out that I was undocumented; over the years the rest of my family got their statuses re-instated. I feel so isolated from my friends because of my status and not being able to tell them. Imagine having to lie every day to some of the people you’re closest to about why you haven’t gotten a learners permit or a job yet…until DACA happened, I felt completely helpless.
If I couldn’t work what was the point of doing anything? I’m still in processing, but deferred action gave me and thousands of other students just like me, hope. In a few years with any luck I’ll have graduated college with a PhD and be a child psychologist.
