As far as immigration stories go, my personal one could be considered commonplace, perhaps even a bit boring: Almost forty years ago, my parents decided that the life they had built back in my native Dominican Republic did not match the ideals they had for their three young daughters. Leaving all behind, they packed up a few possessions, their hopes and aspirations for our future in a couple of suitcases. Lucky for them, they were given the legal right to make an honorable living in America. Yet, millions of families today are not as lucky. For them , the piece of paper providing ‘validation’ of their God-given ‘human being’ status in this country, has not yet arrived.
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