Sadness, Fear and Hope: America's Immigrants Mark Independence Day

By Sabrina Siddiqui, Oliver Laughland and Amanda Holpuch, Guardian UK

04 July 18

With Trump’s travel ban recently upheld and the fate of Dreamers still in flux, the holiday is an uncertain time for many

don’t feel wanted here": Zuleyma Castrejon-Salina, 24, North Carolina

Zuleyma Castrejon-Salina and her family have celebrated Independence Day in America together for over two decades.

The 24 year-old came to the US, aged two, without paperwork. As a child she would go shopping for patriotic clothing to mark the Fourth of July holiday. But something changed when she reached high school.

“I realized that I wasn’t really celebrating my freedom, or the freedom of my people,” Castrejon-Salina said. “So now, just because we have the day off, I try to spend it with my family. But it doesn’t have that ‘I’m proud of my country’ feeling any more.”

Castrejon-Salina is one of the 800,000 young people in America who received Daca status under the Obama administration, which protects them from deportation. But as the future of Daca remains unstable under Donald Trump, she and her family prepared for 4 July this year with a degree of trepidation and fear they have never experienced before.

Her parents, both undocumented, will still cook a carne asada, as they do every year – barbecuing ribs, flank steak, and fresh chorizo. But Castrejon-Salina also worries about their annual trip to the local park in Monroe, North Carolina, to watch the fireworks with her four younger siblings.

“When I see so many people there giving us stares, mean stares, or wearing their confederate flags, shirts or hats, it makes me feel like I don’t belong here,” she said.

“My siblings feel very welcomed and like they belong, but they’re younger and not concerned with the things that I’m concerned with because they’re US citizens.”

Her father, who works as a roofer, has lived in America for over half of his life. “He still holds on to that patriotism. He loves the United States and doesn’t want to leave it.”

But Castrejon-Salina is being forced this year to reckon with the prospect of being deported to Mexico, a place she has never lived.

“I was very hopeful when I was younger, but now I’m just, I’m realistic. So if Daca does get terminated, then I won’t care. I think I’ve made my peace with it,” she said.

“I’m OK if I have to leave the country because I really do think I can succeed anywhere. Especially in my home [of Mexico], which I really don’t know. But I feel like that is really more my home than here, because I don’t feel like I am wanted here.”

‘I just feel crushed’: Sondos Alsilwi, 25, lives in New York City

Sondos Alsilwi was born and raised in the US. For most of her life, the Fourth of July has been an exciting time, but this year, the 25-year-old has no plans for the holiday.

Alsilwi, who is nine months pregnant, says Independence Day has lost its meaning as the Trump administration clamps down on immigration, and pushes policies that have kept her separate from her husband, Abdullah, a Yemeni national living in the capital of the war-torn country.

“It’s all fake. I’m sorry, everything is just so fake,” Alsilwi told the Guardian. “This country is founded on immigrants. And for them to put this ban on immigration, it’s just ridiculous.”

Alsilwi hasn’t see Abdullah since last year because he has been stuck in Yemen since the couple applied for his green card in 2016.

His application appears to be caught up in the Trump administration’s travel ban, which has suspended the issuing of immigrant and non-immigrant visa from five Muslim-majority countries – Yemen, Somalia, Libya, Iran and Syria (as well as Venezuela and North Korea) – and was upheld by the supreme court earlier this month. It is believed to have affected more than 135m people.

Alsilwi said for two years, US immigration authorities have told her the same thing when asked what was happening with her husband’s green card application: “it’s processing”.

“I have so many plans to get back to work and have my husband here when I give birth and we can be a family and be established together, and I just feel crushed,” Alsilwi said.

The 25-year-old lives in New York City with her parents, who immigrated to the US from Yemen before she was born because her dad was offered a scholarship to study for a masters and PhD in the US.

“It was so much fun, seeing the fireworks and learning about independence and all that,” Alsilwi said. “I am a history major so I’ve always liked learning about history and the stories. But we’re making history right now. And I want to focus on today ... let’s make a better future for ourselves now.”

With few other options available, Alsilwi is planning to travel to Yemen after her child is born so the family can be united while they wait for the green card application to be processed.

But Yemen is in the throes of a bloody civil war sponsored by rival regional powers, and is struggling with a devastating humanitarian crisis.

Abdullah is a pharmacist in the capital city, Sana’a, which he fled to after his hometown was surrounded by armed forces, making it difficult to enter and exit.

She has visited her husband twice since they first met online. The second time, she stayed for eight months, thinking his green card would soon be granted and they could return to the US.

“This [the US] is all I’ve ever known,” Alsilwi said. “And for the government to make you feel like this isn’t your home and you’re not American, it’s very, very sad.”

‘There’s a feeling of gratitude and hope’: Rebecca Shi and her mother, Chicago

It was a long and arduous journey, but after 25 years living in the United States, Rebecca Shi’s mother finally took her oath as an American citizen at the age of 62 last week.

She came to the country in 1993 under the sponsorship of her husband, who was studying at Harvard University in Boston at the time, said Shi, who shared her mother’s story with the Guardian.

Shi joined her parents in the US three years later, in 1996, and went on to become a citizen along with her father in the early 2000s. But an immigration error forced her mother into the shadows.

The government said Shi’s mother had overstayed her visa and issued an order for deportation. The woman who had worked in her native country of China as a doctor at a teaching hospital suddenly joined the millions of undocumented immigrants living in the US.

“For 19 years, she had no papers, so she worked in Chinese restaurants,” said Shi. “Her tips put me through the University of Chicago.”

After years of navigating the country’s complex immigration system, Shi’s mother, who did not want to be named, finally became a US citizen. She now plans to spend the Fourth of July holiday marching in a parade in the suburbs of Chicago, where the mother and daughter currently reside.

Shi said her mother has already acquired patriotic props for the event, and plans to drape herself in a shawl of the American flag.

“I see a new life in my mom,” Shi said. “She said there’s even more she can do to contribute to this country and also to help others who are vulnerable or undocumented by stepping up and voting. She said she’ll vote in every election.”

Although her qualifications do not transfer to the US, Shi said having paperwork enabled her mother to take a job at a hospital where she is at least back in her field. She relishes working a shift that starts at 2.30am and does not return her home until 1pm.

“She’s been thinking about maybe going back to school, maybe taking a night class,” Shi said. “There’s a feeling of gratitude and hope”.

‘What kind of country are we celebrating?’: Greisa Martinez, 28, lives in Washington DC

Last week, Greisa Martinez was detained by border patrol agents who pulled her from the security line at El Paso international airport in Texas.

After four hours of questioning and pressure from United We Dream – the immigrant rights group that she works for as deputy executive director – Martinez was released.

“I am one of hundreds of thousands of undocumented young people who is targeted by Ice [Immigration and Customs Enforcement] and CBP [Customs and Border Protection] based on the color of my skin,” she said.

Martinez, who is a Dreamer, told the Guardian this Fourth of July will be a time of reflection.

“I was one of the lucky ones,” she said.

Martinez was detained just after she had spoken at a rally against the Trump administration policy of separating families who entered the US illegally at the border, which was held outside a new detention center in Tornillo, Texas.

Martinez was seven years old when her she crossed the Rio Grande waters with her parents in search of a better life in the US. The family settled in Dallas, Texas, but said she grew up “always knowing I was undocumented”.

Martinez was able to come out of the shadows after Obama unveiled his Daca program, and she applied for Daca status in 2014. Since Trump rescinded the policy in September, she fears young immigrants like her who know no other home beyond America have been newly exposed to the threat of deportation.

As Americans hold parties in their backyards and gather in parks across the country today, Martinez said she will be still be right there alongside them with a sense of joy and optimism.

But as an activist intimately involved in protesting the Trump administration’s hardline stance against immigrants, Martinez said she has had a lot to process going into the holiday.

“The rest of the country I think will be joining me in reflecting on what kind of country we are, what kind of country we are celebrating,” she said.