Prague and Parents

By: Shamara Valdez Rubio

May 14, 2015

Last December was a huge month for me. I turned 21 and got accepted into my study abroad program in Prague. A few months prior to studying abroad, I might not have been able to point out where the Czech Republic was—even after two semesters of MAPS.

This, however, did not affect my excitement, and I could not wait to leave for Prague. I made of list of things to do and places to see: take a boat ride in the Vlata River, see the astronomical clock (oldest working clock in the world), visit the Prague Castle (the largest castle in the world), take artsy pictures at the Lennon Wall, eat Czech dumplings, drink the famous “Pilsner” beer (which is cheaper than water), and attend a classical music concert. Although I was nervous, excited, thrilled, and all the other exhaustive list of feelings that characterize all Georgetown study abroad students, I was ready to take on Prague and all the adventures it had to offer.

But I was also guilty. My parents are undocumented—and have been for over 20 years. Making the decision to attend college was difficult. Making the decision to attend Georgetown was even more difficult. Some pressure and responsibility always comes with being the oldest sibling. For me, part of it was being a good role model to my younger brothers, but part of it was also being my parents’ full-time advocate and supporter. How could I abandon the people who needed me the most? Who would translate phone calls and documents for my parents? Who would be there to argue with abogados who would exploit my parents’ situation and the little resources we had? Who would be there to take care of my brothers and prevent them from finding out the truth?

December was a huge month for me because I turned 21. It was the moment I had been waiting for all my life. It was also the moment my parents had been waiting for all their lives. Although most Georgetown students look forward to having a Tombs night and getting their forehead stamped, turning 21 meant I could apply for my parents’ citizenship. For me, turning 21 meant that the two most important individuals in my life would no longer have to live in fear or be “aliens” in this country. For me, turning 21 meant that my parents could not be taken away from me.

Mis papas cannot afford to leave the country. My parents fear deportation. They fear the police and government officials. My parents cannot apply for most jobs. My parents are away from their families and their country. My parents have sacrificed everything for my brothers and I, so how could I leave them again…this time for a foreign country? I felt selfish, inconsiderate, and guilty. But being abroad has only heightened my frustration about the injustice of my parents’ situation. Being able to take a bus to Budapest or a train to Slovakia for a weekend and travel across borders with such ease often reminds me how privileged I am to have the opportunity to travel. It also reminds me how this opportunity is not just for me, but also for my parents.

“I’m really upset I didn’t get any pictures. I need to go back.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

My roommate did not understand my disappointment. I needed pictures. For these were my attempts to be selfless with my selfishness. These pictures were not for me—these pictures were for my parents. I wanted them to see Budapest, too.

A few weeks ago, my mom informed me that I might have to leave my study abroad program early for their court date. This also meant possibly losing a semester of college. I did not hesitate to agree to leave early. My parents have sacrificed everything for our family, so I would sacrifice a semester of school for them, without question. I was lucky enough to work things out with professors and was surprised by how supportive they responded to my situation.

My semester in Prague is coming to an end. I will be taking all my finals soon, including my Czech language final. I will be leaving the maze of indoor corridors, medieval streets, and tunnels that make up Praha. I will embark on a new adventure called Senior Year at Georgetown. But more importantly, my parents will be “legal” in this country and watch me cross the stage, and as my mom always says “si dios quiere.”

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