My grandparents were migrant farm workers, cherry pickers and hop pickers. Although both were born in Texas, their Mexican identity and socioeconomic status determined their daily lives, but not their future.
I have realized that there is an unspoken pride in our family that is rooted in the Latino experience of the American dream. My grandparents knew that education was the way out of low salaries and difficult working conditions, which is why my grandfather decided to work as a janitor at a public school to get a stable job.
It is no coincidence, then, that I am an educator and, as such, I think about how to present and process the American dream with my students. When we think of the American dream, we often conjure up images of “The Great Gatsby” and Ellis Island but they are less likely to unpack the image of the American dream on the US-Mexico border. From that dividing line, the American Dream guarantees security, education, economic stability and absolute survival for many Mexicans and Central Americans.
As a Spanish teacher, I have the opportunity to broaden students' perceptions of the American dream to include the experiences of Latin Americans who come and live in the United States. Although I work at a small all-girls Catholic school in Minnesota, we have students whose families immigrated to the United States and have also experienced the pain of deportation of an undocumented family member. For them, the opportunities and challenges of the American dream have never seemed more real.
As the number of Latino students at my school increases, it is important that we humanize the migrant experience so that we can redefine the American dream for today's students.
Living in a bubble
Most students at our all-girls Catholic school believe they live in a bubble. While our school continues to become more ethnically and racially diverse, there is still this feeling of being protected here and that our school does not offer a true reflection of the outside world. This student's perception is a bit exaggerated, but I understand. Students want to be connected, educated, and aware of realities beyond the classroom.
I also advise our co-curricular group, Students of Color Society. The small group is led by two Latina students whose family stories, like mine, are tied to the promises inherent in the American dream. These students and their parents believe in the power of education for their collective future in this country.
I want to help students in my Spanish classes become aware of that experience and go beyond their bubble. For me, a Spanish course is more than grammatical structures; it's about connection, cultural competence, and global engagement. I teach Spanish through a lens of history and justice because, for our students, it opens their minds to study Latin America and understand its people. Students can then challenge the negative. stereotypes of Latino immigrants and the biased political campaigns are exposed in the media. This is how we begin to pierce that bubble that will help our students hope for freedom.
Redefining the American dream
In class we learn that Mexico, Central America and South America fight socially and economically. Because of this, many people and families migrate to the border, expressing their hope to live without violence, obtain secure employment and receive an education for the success of future generations. While dreams allow us to imagine opportunities that are within our reach, it is also important that as a class we study the various obstacles that inhibit the progress of historically and systematically marginalized peoples.
To humanize and create deeper compassion for those who arrive at our border. undocumentedWe read the prologue and the first two chapters of “Enrique's journey,” published in 2006 by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Sonia Nazario. Like our students, Enrique is a teenager facing unique life circumstances, but he lives amidst gang violence and poverty and suffers from depression and drug addiction, leading him to eventually drop out of school. His dream is to reunite with his mother, who emigrated to the United States looking for a way to generate a sustainable income for Enrique and his sister. Enrique sails his Ride to the Texas-Mexico border on top of trains and finds his mother, Lourdes, in North Carolina; However, she discovers that living in America means trading one form of poverty and oppression for another. The American dream, in reality, was plagued by racial prejudice and limited low-income jobs that allowed Lourdes to barely make ends meet.
Reading Enrique's Journey allows students to see a three-dimensional portrait of the migrant experience and strengthen their compassion muscles. Together we discovered how difficult it is to achieve everything that the American dream leads us to believe is possible.
From there, I ask students to decide if the American dream really exists for undocumented people. They often say no, or if they do, it is the exception rather than the rule. Without a doubt, students point out that there is an aspect of the American Dream that seems to lead to change and a glimpse of the future: an education for migrant families and children, but also an education for the teachers and students like us who help change the narrative about migration.
Education and empowerment
During our school's annual celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month last October, the Latina leaders of our Society of Students of Color shared their stories with our broader school community. They talked openly and honestly about their struggles, but they also wanted to turn their challenges into something that made them feel empowered. Inspired by America Ferrera’s TED talk, “My identity is a superpower”, our students shared their stories of being fighters, embracing their Latina identities, and finding a sense of belonging amidst discrimination and worry that their undocumented family members would be deported.
I can't help but believe that the courage of these students to speak their truths is infused with the humanity of the American dream that we set out to define in Spanish class. What we cultivate in the classroom ends up impacting the entire culture of our school. When we humanize those we perceive as outsiders to society, we create belonging based on empathy and a shared understanding of wanting to live a life in which a student and her family can thrive safely and joyfully.
While the American dream will always be tied to political strife and geographic boundaries, we must also remember that, like the demographics of our schools, our opinions and perceptions on the matter will also change. The dream can be achieved by believing in the power of education, just like my students and their parents, and like my own grandparents. It can also be done if you cross a border to find your future or even attend an all-girls Catholic school in the Midwest.
I hope students understand that the fundamental promises underpinned by the American Dream—prosperity, education, and growth—reveal our human connections to one another.
Mostly, I hope the students at our school break their bubbles by challenging dominant narratives and stereotypical interpretations of migration and what it means to achieve the American dream. As educators and students, we must strive to center our humanity and uplift one another as we boldly navigate the possibilities of the dreams within us—the dreams of our ancestors.
