Opinion: This is My Truth: Soy Mexicana and I Carry My Home on My Back
We, the undocumented youth of America are living on borrowed time. We are neither from here nor there. We are wanderers in perpetual purgatory and yet we dream of the highest heavens. But as the well-known phrase goes, “they tried to bury us, but they didn’t know we were seeds.” And so, we rise.
