An immigrant’s path to freedom

Written by Edil Cuepo

Image via potterybarn.com

Every year, the Fourth of July takes me back to the time I got my green card. For immigrants like me, becoming a permanent resident in the US is a major life event. It is as significant as getting engaged and married or having a baby. I get emotional when I look back on all the challenges I had to overcome in pursuit of permanent residency. A green card meant freedom in the US.

America took my freedom away

In 2008, my family and I moved to New York from the Philippines. We were not oppressed. We are not refugees. My dad decided to marry again, so we moved with him to the US. I come from a middle class family where education was a priority. I have a bachelor’s degree in Marketing Management from De La Salle University, an equivalent to an ivy-league school where I lived. Life was good in the Philippines — and very promising.

With our move, I looked forward to an even more promising career in New York. While waiting for our permanent resident cards, I turned 21. Because my age meant I was a legal adult and deemed to be “independent,” the government refused to grant me rights to live with my family in the US. I was being kicked out of America and away from my family. I decided to stay despite the fact that I was not welcomed. I filed for appeals and waited for decisions. It was a long and turbulent road thereafter.

Without work authorization, I could not start a career and use my college degree in marketing. I did not have health insurance, a driver’s license, or a proper US identification. I was nervous to fly for fear of being caught by the TSA. I could not travel outside the US or I would be banned forever. I missed my older brother, relatives, and friends in the Philippines. I was helpless and worthless. I was not free.

I struggled a lot while waiting. I learned how to bartend, worked for eight to 10 hours a day, five nights a week, wearing skimpy shorts and cowboy boots in the middle of winter. I made good money and was paid in all cash, but I would have given anything to be taxed on my income. I would have given anything to become a taxpayer. I did not have any weekends or holidays for family and friends. I had to work all night on Christmas. While my girlfriends finished grad school and blossomed in their careers, I would work at the bar and wait for them to come around for happy hour. I slept throughout the day and worked all night.

It is extremely hard and painful to look ahead and plan for the future as an undocumented immigrant. I forgot about my goals and ambitions and kept my worries to myself. I was lonely, troubled, and insecure, worrying that I would be deported, what I would do if I got sick without insurance, if I was being a burden to my family, and how I would visit both of my grandmothers in the Philippines while they’re still alive. Not to mention, how could a decent guy like an outcast like me — and would anyone sincere and worthwhile want to be with me, marry me, and be happy?

America gave my freedom back for good

It took me about six years to become a permanent resident. I was so overwhelmed with joy when I got my green card that I could not stop crying. It was in July and it did feel like July 4th to me. My fiance’s family threw a party for me the very next day, with red, blue, and white-striped napkins, and people singing “God Bless America” together. It was my independence day. For the first time in years, I felt recognized and important. My green card had my name and US address on it. I was officially a resident of this country and America acknowledged it.

A green card meant so many things for me. For one, I was finally able to visit one of my grandmothers, right before she passed. I visited her with my fiancé and I am grateful he got the chance to meet her. I met my fiancé Ben through one of my friends from the bar. He liked me for who I am, and not for my skimpy shorts. He courted me like I was the most beautiful person in this world. I got lucky.

With my resident card, I can also apply for school loans and scholarships to further my studies. I have been taking digital marketing classes at New York University. I got a learner’s permit and can drive around with my sister in the passenger seat. I can travel the world and I can fly without worrying about Homeland Security. I can reach out and help other people now that I feel confident about myself, which I’m able to do by writing and volunteering for New Women New Yorkers. My green card is a game-changer and a door to endless opportunities.

I always believe that things happen for a reason. My experience being underprivileged and unwelcomed in this country liberated me. It gave me a different perspective and appreciation for freedom. If I had not learned what it felt like to be disadvantaged, I would not be able to acknowledge the truest meaning of freedom. Now, it almost feels like a badge I wear every morning that I wake up. I will never forget what it feels like to be oppressed and alienated. As 2 Corinthians 12:10 says, “For when I am weak, then I am strong.” Freedom only became more meaningful to me when I was at my lowest.

My family and I obviously never celebrated American Independence Day before we moved to the US. Seven years and countless barbecues later, it has now become a part of our tradition to watch the elaborate fireworks, get together with loved ones, and simply celebrate freedom. I am thankful and privileged to be here and to be able to celebrate freedom and liberty as we live it.