Red Wheelbarrow 2008 text FINAL REVISED.indd - De Anza College

Violeta’s grandfather living in Mexico passed away
“Mom, did someone die?”
“I couldn’t leave. I didn’t want to have to cross el cerro again. It
was so scary the first time. You were just a baby.”
“Mom, what’s going on? I’m American. I was born here.”
“We were only trying to protect you. You’re more American than
some of your friends born here.”
“I can’t apply for the SAT, college or financial aid without my
social. I do have a social, don’t I?”
“Mi hija you were born in Mexico.”
Violeta became pale. She always believed that she’d been born
in America. She’s American, just like her friends. She and her friends
hang out at the mall, chat online about American Idol and America’s Next
Top Model. She plays volleyball, loves hip-hop and idolizes Johnny Depp.
All these things are American; it’s stuff American teens like her do. It
doesn’t matter that she was born in Mexico, her heart is American.
Violeta’s mother sat her down and told her the story of how the
family came illegally. She explained that undocumented people cannot
get social security numbers. For a person to get a social they must either
have a green card or be a US citizen. Her mother and father didn’t have
social security numbers either. They had been using made up ones to
work.
It was all too much for Violeta. She too started to cry. “What am
I supposed to do mom? I want to go to college.”
“I don’t know. Your father and I will always be here for you, no
matter what.”
Violeta was left shaken by her mother’s revelation. Her lack of a
nine digit number was preventing her from fulfilling her dream. Going
to college was no longer an option. In one afternoon, Violeta went from
being a US citizen to undocumented. She felt as if her life was a sham.
Violeta no longer felt like the popular, intelligent girl that she was. She
felt alien and inferior.
Violeta finished out the volleyball season and continued to do
well in school. She stopped hanging out with her friends and began
taking refuge in her bedroom. For a couple of months she rarely spoke
to her parents. She was angry at them for having kept the truth from
her. She did not resent them for brining her because she knew her life in
Mexico would have been much harder. At least here she was able to get
an education.
Violeta and her mother finished cleaning the office. It was barely
the first one of the day. They still had 3 more to go. It was going to be
another long day for Violeta the janitor.
36 | Red Wheelbarrow