Fighting Against Home

Marco Morales

My father used to tell me, “Marco, a respectable man is the one who does what he says, and he does it because his credibility is at risk.” My father is a respected person who, thanks to his hard work of picking avocados for more than twenty years, has been able to earn enough to support his family. He decided that my future was in the United States. I was a fifteen year old adolescent who respected his father; therefore, my duty was to follow his decision, and it did not matter if I agreed or disagreed with that choice. Finally, the day we traveled to the U.S. my father and my mother woke up at 1:00 am. They were talking about my brother and me. I was awake at the time they woke up. I was covered with my blanket listening word for word to what my mother told my father. I did not stand up because I did not want to interrupt their conversation. I waited in bed two minutes more, and finally I stood up. I saw my short, plump and lovely mother packing some of my clothes. Then, I stepped back to my dark room and listened to my mother asking my father again to take care of us. My heart was broken; I could not stand to see my lovely mother crying and repeatedly asking my father to promise to take care of us. During that cold morning of October 12 of 2001, I faced the saddest and hardest day of my life because I had to separate from my mother to start a new life in the United States. After that day, I decided that no matter how long or what it takes, I was going to work hard in getting an education to pay back my mother and father what they suffered to give me an opportunity to enjoy a better future.
            The unforgettable day at home was a lot of tension. My sisters were crying, and my younger brother was playing with his toys. I remember that my younger brother asked me, “Marqui, where are you going?” The silence took possession of everybody at home. Five seconds later, my dog’s bark ended the silence. I answered my little brother, “I do not know where I am going,” and then I started crying. At that point, I understood how much I loved all my family and how necessary they were to me. Then, I heard from my father the words that through all the morning I was waiting for, “Guys, it is time, let’s go.” At that moment, I put my face down. My eyes got wet, my legs started shaking, and all my body got involved in an ecstasy of adrenalin. Then, my father, my older brother, and I began the six hour journey to the airport. I was in the back of the truck lying down with my face uncovered. I was watching the stars and thinking about leaving my town behind. At that moment, all my childhood came to my mind. I was hoping that everything that I was living was a dream and that I would wake up laughing about it. Reality was different; I was going to live in another country and not in the one I was born in. My dreams to work hard to help my own country to be a better one were in the trash. I realized that the old blue Ford was on the freeway because the cold air increased. My body was freezing, but my body was not the only thing I had frozen. One part of my life was frozen too. For every mile the truck moved forward, my family, my friends, and my old way of life were left behind too.
            My father found my freezing body and broken heart, when he pulled the blankets from me. That’s all I can say about the fifteen year old child. My father told me, “Marco, we are in the international airport of Mexico, it is time; let’s go.” My father helped me with my bag, because I looked sick. We got inside the airport, and my father bought me some pills. Finally, after two hours waiting, we went into the airplane that had the mission to take us to the city of Tijuana. During the three and half hour flight, I was thinking about my situation. I thought for a moment, “Ok, Marco, you are here and nothing is going a change that fact. Now, your future is in your hands. The wrong attitude you are having is not going to get you anywhere.” So, I decided to accept my situation. Now in the new country, I was going to have the opportunity to continue with my education and I could have the opportunity to get a better life in the U.S. than in Mexico. My thoughts were interrupted by the flight attendant who served me a snack. I looked at her and I noticed that she was gentle and nice. Then, another thought came to me, in the new environment there could be nice and kind people like the flight attendant. My mind changed when I focused my attention on the good things that I was going to experience. When we arrived at Tijuana, I was anxious to get in the taxi. I wanted to know my new home and environment because a new life was waiting for me.
            At 2:00 P.M. when the airplane arrived at Tijuana, I was a new person; the new Marco became enthusiastic to discover what was behind the American culture and anxious to know more individuals with the same beliefs. My father asked my brother and me to go eat before going to Pauma Valley, which was going to be my new town for the next three years. We went to the center of Tijuana to eat some tacos. I was very hungry, therefore, I ate six delicious beef tacos. I was almost finishing my last taco, when a man got closer to me asking for money to buy some tacos. I got scared because it was the first time something like that had happened to me. My father did not give the person the money; instead, he bought him some tacos to eat with us. My father told us later, “If we want to help the people, it is better to give them food instead of money because instead of buying food sometimes they use the money to buy drugs or alcohol.” I discovered that my father knew what he was doing, and that I did not have to worry about problems in my new life because my father would be there to support me. Later at the border line, my father pointed at some individuals that were running across the street and some border police officers were behind them. My father told my brother and me, “Give thanks to God that you are lucky to have your papers in order because other people like those running have to cross the border line illegally, putting their lives in risk.” As the people running disappeared, I analyzed my father’s words. I realized that he was right, so I thought, “I am lucky.” Then, I felt sorry for those people who want to fulfill their American dream, putting at risk their lives trying to accomplish it. I thanked God because I had the right to come and go from the United States with no problem.
When I had to pass to show my green card to the official in charge, I was nervous because I was leaving my old life. Also, I was anxious to begin a new life that would make my future a better one. When I crossed the border, my mom crying came to my mind. Then, I promised to myself that the effort that my parents were making would not be in vain. My life changed completely from one day to another, and October 12 will be always in my memory, as the day I discovered that I was lucky to have a family who loved me and would support me if something happened to me. I also learned that day that sometimes it is necessary to leave our loved ones to make a better future. The moment I crossed the border line, my father turned to my brother and me. We made eye contact, and he said, “Let’s go.”