Undocumented mothers deserve more recognition. They are portrayed by the media as frightened kittens, hiding. But inside each of them there is a roaring lioness, a fierce she-warrior.
She was seduced by the brilliant red sun between the mountains,
By the Green Lady who lit the way with her fiery torch,
By the unalienable promise of Uncle Sam: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness,
the American Dream.
She dared to crawl the dry sea, under an unforgiving angry sun.
She used her bracelets to ride La Bestia, a monster known to kill, and remove human parts,
But also the only train ride to freedom and equality, away from even bigger monsters.
She reached El Rio Grande, its water fierce, strong, ready to drown anyone, ready to drag their dreams and hopes down its currents.
She used her lasso to tie herself to the Land of Dreams.
She survived.
But it was all a lie,
The dry sea, La Bestia, El Rio Grande were her true guardians.
They were fierce and intimidating, begging her to stay away from the true monsters.
No—demons.
The white men were no longer those warm smiling faces, they only smirked with cruelty, they used her dreams and twisted them into nightmares.
Suddenly the home she fled seemed better than the concentration camp she was in.
They clawed off her bracelets and stole her lasso and chained her to a crippling life,
Constantly running from the men in green suits, the men with the word ICE across their chests.
But she hasn’t broken.
She sleeps in a small corner knowing her children go to sleep with full stomachs, and dream with their eyes open.
Her new refuge is God, surrounded by saints.
People outside envelop her, raise their fists and yell,
SHE IS NOT AN ALIEN SHE IS A HUMAN, A MOTHER!
She doesn’t beg, she demands.
She isn’t on her knees, but she stands with her head held high and, with the same fury she fought the monsters,
She will fight the demons outside.