“My dreams now are mostly for my children. I want to be able to work and give them an opportunity to become educated and to get ahead in their lives. Lupita speaks English now, and I’d love to do that too. Already she is very popular in school and has her own friends. She doesn’t remember anything about our family or our life in Mexico, but she will tell you that she does. She is making her own memories.”

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My first daughter, Lupita, and I came to Seattle from Mexico City when she was only one. We walked for three days and nights through the desert, crossing the border at an Indian reservation near Tucson. Some Native Americans helped us to get out of danger and took us into their houses; they live near the border patrols and help those who pass over near their town by picking them up, hiding them in their cars, and taking them to safety. We were lucky; it is a dangerous place, and many women are abused. We were spared seeing any of that.

Like many immigrants, I came with the idea of just staying long enough to make some money to help my family in Mexico and then go back home. But sometimes things turn out differently; I am now married and have three children, and although I’d love to go home and visit, the problem is making it back. It is not possible to go and visit without crossing illegally again to return. It is much worse now; my brother tried to go back to Mexico and was caught by immigration trying to enter. I hear if you want to cross, you must pay a coyote to bring you across. If I had all my family here, I wouldn’t think of going.

I know if I do go, I will be going alone with my children; my husband, Andres, does not want to go back. He is all I have right now, but our situations are different. He is able to go out, to go to work; he has a car and is able to go anywhere; and he has friends. For myself, I am not able to go out; I am here most of the time, inside with the children. And when the sun doesn’t shine, it can be very oppressive.

I do not speak English, so it is difficult to communicate. I feel isolated. I miss my family. The doctor thinks I may be suffering from postpartum depression, and I think she may be right, because I do a lot of crying. My husband tries to understand, but he is headstrong and distant. He is a man. The real problem is that I don’t really have any friends. There are plenty of neighbors here in the building, but it seems that we just say hello, good morning, but not much more than that. People who are single go out and socialize, go to dances, all of that. I am twenty-eight years old and I spend nearly all my time alone, closed inside the apartment with the kids.

My dreams now are mostly for my children. I want to be able to work and give them an opportunity to become educated and to get ahead in their lives. Lupita speaks English now, and I’d love to do that too. Already she is very popular in school and has her own friends. She doesn’t remember anything about our family or our life in Mexico, but she will tell you that she does. She is making her own memories.

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