Throughout my life, I never worried about my place in this country—until now. When I heard about President Donald Trump’s plan for the mass deportation of undocumented immigrants, I felt a wave of fear for myself and my family.
At that moment, my sense of security shifted. Even though I am a citizen, my family’s struggle suddenly felt personal. I worried for my undocumented loved ones who have worked hard to build a life here.
Trump is also making efforts to end birthright citizenship. The idea that I would have to prove my American identity to my own government is infuriating. I was born here. This is my home. I am American, and I shouldn’t have to defend that.
Even if the plan to end birthright citizenship never becomes law, immigration enforcement is already affecting millions of immigrant families. Many people have been forced to leave behind their homes, jobs, and loved ones, unsure if they will ever see them again. The fear of deportation is something I understand all too well.
Ever since my family migrated here, only a few of my loved ones have traveled back to Guatemala, and even then, it was only for brief visits. Most haven’t returned at all. Over the years, I’ve watched how the place that once held so much meaning for them slowly became a distant memory for them. They’ve built new lives here, learned a new language, embraced a different culture, and raised families of their own. And with that, their sense of home shifted. Guatemala, with all its beauty and nostalgia, no longer feels like home to them—it feels like a place they used to know.
I wonder what family gatherings would be like if my loved ones were deported. The conversations and laughter that fill the room would be gone. Who would I talk to if my cousins weren’t there? Our Fourth of July celebration, when my entire family comes together to celebrate being American, would feel like a painful contradiction. How can we honor being American when our government tells us we don’t belong?
The American Dream is about working hard to achieve success and prosperity. My family has done just that. They came here to build better lives. Despite some of them being undocumented, they are hardworking, responsible, and the most big-hearted people you’ll meet. The thought of losing them and our family being torn apart is unbearable.
When my mom tried to renew her green card, she faced long lines and repeated denials. We had to travel to San Francisco multiple times just to resolve a simple issue. If legal residents struggle this much, how can undocumented immigrants have any hope?
Deportations don’t just remove individuals, they tear families apart, leave children without parents, and destroy communities. Many immigrants flee poverty, violence, and persecution, only to live in constant fear of being sent back to the dangers they risked everything to escape.
To those who have undocumented family members, know that you are not alone. Many of us share this fear.
Our stories matter because they hold the fear of losing the people we love. I can’t imagine life without my family, and I refuse to stay silent while they live in terror. We must stand together to protect those who make our lives whole.
For more information, see the Immigration and Customs Enforcement policies, immigration rights, and other available resources.
