¡El pueblo unido jamás será vencido!

This past weekend was one of utmost significance in that I finally figured out who I am. I am the daughter of an immigrant who came to this country at the ripe young age of three years old with the American dream in mind for the next thirty two years. After a rocky but fruitful thirty-two years, my father was deported on charges that were filed 10 years ago. He was detained by ICE and deported on October 3, 2008; I haven't seen him in almost two years. I will never again deny who I am to anyone or any organization. I will stand in solidarity will all those who support immigration reform and with all those who believe that immigrants have no rights. I will fight for what I believe in and I will not be quieted.

As I sat in that church pew, with people I had never met before, I felt at home. I've immersed myself in a culture that I unfortunately never have known. I'm learning to speak Spanish and it is one of the greatest times of the day, when I can sit in a class and enjoy everything that is being said and the sounds of a language rolling off of someone's tongue. As I sat amongst people who spoke broken English and those who spoke no English at all, I realized this is who I am. I experienced (for a lack of a better word) solidarity with this people I knew absolutely nothing about.

As I listened to the young Polish boy speak about his father's deportation and about how much it reminded me of my own experience, I cried. I sobbed and couldn't breathe. The Mexican woman, whom I had never seen nor met in my life, sitting next to me, hugged me and I cried into her shoulder. She calmly told me in Spanish, that things were going to change and I would see my father again. It was one of those random acts of kindness that one only experiences rarely in life. I owe that woman everything. As I sang the protest songs in a language I'm still getting the hang of, I realized that these are the words of a people who have been in such a lucha (struggle) for almost all of history and my family and I are a part of that and we need to fight for what is just. I felt so blessed to be there amongst all of those wonderful people.

I can honestly say I was changed forever. I still have not fully grasped that which happened on November 4th, 2008. As Kinley and I embraced in the middle of Grant Park from the joy of Obama winning 365-173, I felt I was a part of history but I never realized it was going to affect me personally. Now I know why Obama's message of change IS real. Things are going to change and I know that I will see my father again IN Chicago, not in Durango in Mexico.

That was a long post but I had to say all of that.