My Name is Prerna and I am an Undocumented American

Prerna — Sat, 20 Dec 2008 08:35:24 EST

You Passed the US Citizenship Test

Congratulations - you got 10 out of 10 correct!

"You can no longer claim legal residency under the petition filed by your grandmother. You are over 21 now and aged-out under the I-130," said my latest attorney. I didn't quite understand what he meant, the fear and confusion hidden in my nervous laughter.

"You are joking, right? They didn't give me an F-1 visa to study here because my parents had filed for permanent residency and now you are telling me that I can't get the permanent residency for which my visa was initially rejected?" I tried to grapple with the logic of the law.

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. "You luckily have a 245-I and can get a Green Card in several years once your parents file for you again. Or you can just get married to a U.S. citizen," he offered.

"What? I have already waited a decade and marriage doesn't help me--I am gay," I answered, gyrating at the reminder of how another set of discriminatory laws worked against me.

"You can always get a marriage of convenience?" he shrugged.

I am writing this a day after International Migrants Day - In all seriousness, every day should be a day to celebrate migration but there is a story to the migration of my people that I have not blogged about.

My sister (29) and I (24) have both been in the United States for a decade. We have grown up American, we are both hard-working, hold advanced degrees, possess great English skills, and even look alike but there is a fundamental way in which we are different: she is a US citizen while I am undocumented; she has grown up legally in America, while I am an 'illegal alien.'

The 'attrition through enforcement' advocates often tell DREAM Act beneficiaries to go home to our countries. I want to know what that means:

Fiji: The country where I was born tells me that I am a colonizer, that I don't belong there.

India, Pakistan and Bangladesh: The countries of my ancestry predetermine me as a criminal even though I have never stepped foot anywhere in the Indian subcontinent.

The United States of America: The country where I have spent close to a decade, continues to demand a Green Card and a nine-digit number in order to accept me, regardless of the fact that the rest of my family comprises tax-paying citizens and legal permanent residents.

As a Pacific Islander of undocumented status, I am consistently relegated to a parenthetical and non-existent status in the legal-illegal immigration binary. While illegal presence is not a crime, since the tag of "illegal alien" comes with an assumption of criminality, I am wrongfully deemed a criminal. At the same time, I have had to challenge the additional presumption of foreignness based on language, the stigma of both gay and 'illegal' in the Indo-Fijian community, and stemming from that, cultural, economic and structural limits to inclusion in my home.

What is American? Who is an American? I hail from the Fiji Islands; My favorite food is Chinese; I root for Italy and Juventus when it comes to soccer; I am disappointed when India loses a major cricket tournament; I love Pakistani music with Jal as my most favorite band; I speak several dialects of Hindi, English, understand Urdu and am finally grappling with Spanish and French; the L-word is my favorite television show with Jennifer Beals as my biggest idol; I think Indian actress Anita Hassanandani is the most beautiful woman in the world; I love Maroon 5, Simple Plan, U2 and Kasabian; my best friends live in various parts of the United States, Canada and the United Kingdom; the San Francisco Bay Area is my home and Chicago is my favorite city. My likes and dislikes know neither borders nor boundaries. And if my diversity of taste and pleasure-seeking avenues is not American, than I don't know what is.

With multitudes of identities in this world of constructed binaries and boundaries, I have multitudes of questions. What precisely is my home country? Where do I belong? Why am I being punished for something that was out of my control? Why does this country not consider me equal to the rest of my family? Why can't I use my postgraduate education to help my family, community and country in these tough economic times? Why can't I get married to adjust my status? How does deporting me help legal residents and U.S. citizens whom I help every single day?

I work 15-20 hours a day for pro-migrant, pro-LGBT civil rights reforms. This is not merely a job or a cause; it is about our lives. And I plan to stay here, attend law school, become a public interest lawyer, and serve my community. The federal bipartisan DREAM Act can help make this a reality for me and countless other students who are rendered stateless in the only country they know as home.

For weeks, I had been nicknamed the V for Vendetta for the DREAM Act movement. That phase is over - DreamActivist, the blog handle for Brave New Films, has now transformed into a rallying point for the United We DREAM coalition. I have lost an identity for myself, but we have gained momentum for the DREAM Act in 2009. Goodbye DreamActivist. Welcome DreamACTivist - United We DREAM.

So in the Harvey Milk fashion, I would like to begin by saying that my name is Prerna (meaning 'inspiration' in Hindi), and I want to recruit you in the fight for our limpid dreams.

There are many undocumented Desi students in the closet. Let's come together to bring them out of the shadows. If you know students that are undocumented in America, tell them to contact me.

admin@dreamactivist.org

Visit and even register at DreamActivist.org for more information and to receive updates on how you can help us in this struggle to achieve our DREAMs.

Desicritics Author: Prerna

My Name is Prerna and I am an Undocumented American