Alejandra Castro-Hernandez waits patiently in the band room at Ulysses High School in Western Kansas. She has her slideshow set up, a stack of pamphlets to give out, prizes on hand and a speech all prepared.
An announcement over the loudspeaker names off students to go to the band room for her presentation: “Fernandez, Garcia, Diaz...” The announcement doesn’t mention the reason she is in this town near the Colorado border. When the students arrive, she will have to explain to them that they are not being deported, that they are not being singled out and that this is not a “brown meeting.”
She is there to introduce the kids to a new program that could help them prepare for college. The kids file in, snickering and making jokes about her in Spanish. She lets them joke for a while, then starts telling them about the program.
“And I do speak Spanish, too,” she says.
“I just feel like undocumented students are made to feel like they should be ashamed of themselves, like they don’t have any future, like they are lower than everybody else.”
Alejandra Castro-Hernandez, Harvest of Hope
The kids sit up straighter, eyes wide, realizing they can’t get away with talking about her because she speaks both languages. She tells them she was once in the same situation: an undocumented high school student, the daughter of a migrant worker and unsure that she could ever make it to college.
Alejandra is a recruiter for Harvest of Hope, a new three-week summer college preparatory camp at the University of Kansas for high school students who are children of Hispanic and Latino migrant workers.
“I just feel like undocumented students are made to feel like they should be ashamed of themselves, like they don’t have any future, like they are lower than everybody else,” Alejandra says. “It just makes me mad. These people are supposed to give you hope; they are supposed to encourage you and support you.”
Alejandra doesn’t fit the migrant profile. She’s not like the majority of immigrants who crossed the border illegally. She has overcome nearly every hurdle that an immigrant could face. She crossed the border when she was 3 years old carrying no visa and little more than a blue plaid blanket and one change of clothes. Alejandra obtained residency status. She graduated from college. She has a good job.
Her story might have ended differently had President Ronald Reagan not granted amnesty to her father. It certainly would have been different had the legislation making its way though the Kansas Senate in the 2008 session been enforced 20 years ago. But Alejandra is living proof that undocumented immigrants can beat all the odds and achieve the American dream.
Alejandra was wrapped in the blue plaid blanket, shown above, when she crossed the border as a small child. She takes the blanket with her when she travels as a reminder of her own journey; as a reminder to never give up.
Entire families, like Alejandra’s (seen here in first grade) leave Mexico looking for work and better lives. Experts say the “illegal immigration” debate could be re-defined as economic desperation.
The Kansas Immigration Enforcement and Reform Act makes its way through the Kansas Legislature. Supporters of the bill say the fact that current law is frustrating is no excuse for breaking it.
Alejandra’s story is not typical. She overcame nearly every obstacle undocumented immigrants face, eventually graduating from KU in 2004. She uses her success story to inspire and encourage others.