Those bloody illegal immigrants

Have you ever stopped to wonder why there are so many illegal immigrants in the US? Many of you like to believe that it’s because these immigrants are just wanting to avoid paying taxes and scam the system, but I believe otherwise. And I believe otherwise because I have lived contrary to this assumption.

There was a period of time when I was an illegal immigrant in the US. And I know what some of you might say, “Oh the government isn’t worried about someone like you.” Why is that? Is it because I’m white? Because I’m educated? Because I can afford to hire an immigration lawyer? The other night at work I was asked, “What is your opinion on immigration in the United States?” To which I saw an opening, an opening to educate the typical ignorant American.

Most illegal immigrants are not illegal for the aforementioned reason. Most illegal immigrants are illegal because it is so difficult to become legal. Last year, I went through this process of maintaining my legal immigration status. And it was a fucking nightmare. Initially I had considered receiving sponsorship through an H1-B work visa, until I found out that all applications must be accepted by early April and approval for work passed in October. In addition to this, there is a 60,000 person cap for this particular visa meaning that even if you do have sponsorship, only 1 in 4 individuals will actually be approved and accepted. Given that it was mid-April, this was no longer an option for me.

At a loss, I really did not know what other alternatives I had. So I sought out an immigration lawyer…for $3,000. And that’s on the cheaper end of things. In order to receive services, I had to pay this money upfront, which thankfully I had enough saved to do so. After exchanging a few emails, she informed me of a visa that was specific for Australians; the E3. There were no cap limits, nor any deadline to apply – seems perfect right? Until you hear the stipulations.

In order to apply for the E3 visa, I needed to have a bachelor’s degree, which thankfully, I did. But I needed to receive sponsorship in a field that pertained to this major. Because I studied psychology, that made my options incredibly limited if not impossible. Despite having a minor in coaching, the visa requirements specify that it must be in a field that I majored in. Not only was I needing to find an organisation willing to sponsor me with only a bachelor’s degree in psychology (which essentially eliminates any company in the mental health field), but they needed to be willing to pay me the salary of whatever position I was being sponsored for.

Fortunately I had developed a strong relationship with Cherokee Soccer Association and the directors offered to sponsor me as a mental coach. Awesome. Now all I needed to do was fly back to Australia, fly to Perth, Sydney, or Melbourne, have an interview, and then come back to the States, be accepted into the states, and stay in this job and only this job for the next 2-4 years. So $2,500 for the return flight back to Australia, $500 for the flight to Perth, and $500 for visa processing fees, we’re now at a total cost of $6,500 just to stay in the States legally.

Is it not hard to imagine then, that many immigrants that enter the United States do not have access to this kind of money and thus, cannot afford to go through the process of becoming legal? Ah, but what about a green card I hear you say. This is something I have seriously looked into, because who wouldn’t want ultimate freedom to work wherever they wanted in the US? After all, it is deemed to be the land of the free. Here’s the thing, one can only receive a green card through marriage, through investing some hundreds of thousands of dollars into a business, whilst proving that they will be hiring Americans, or through the green card lottery (which isn’t offered to all countries). And trust me, I seriously considering that first option, but with the risk of being fined $200,000 and going to jail? It wasn’t worth the risk. Nor could I find a willing candidate if I’m being entirely honest.

And the green card lottery? There’s application deadlines for that too. And the lottery isn’t drawn until May of every year, to allow access for the following year. So basically, you need to be planning your stay in the US two to three years in advance, and for anyone who doesn’t know what they want to do in the future, that’s almost impossible to do.

The other catch for work visas, and the E3 visa that I’m on, is that I am tied to my job for the next 2-4 years. Which doesn’t seem that bad right? Wrong. At least for me. Being tied to a job makes me feel trapped and seems to contradict the foundation in which America was established; land of the free. So what about going back to school some might ask. Well, there are stipulations with a student visa, too – you cannot work whilst on an F1 visa except on campus and for a maximum of 20 hours a week. And when the minimum wage is $7.25 an hour, you can’t exactly pay off the $15,000+ for graduate school.

America might be the land of opportunity, but it certainly isn’t accessible to anyone who is not an American citizen. And some of you think this is a good thing, but it’s not. Diversity is essential in making any country thrive. Without it, views, beliefs, and even ideas become stale and stagnant. Despite all of this, the current president of the United States is wanting to make it even harder to become legal in the US. Harder? It’s already almost impossible as it is. Perhaps instead of looking outward and assuming illegal immigrants do not want to pay taxes, it might serve this country to take a look at its own people and how certain owners can get away with not paying their staff, even the $2.13 they are entitled to, or giving them the W2 in which to pay taxes. I’m sure there are immigrants who do play the system, but I also know there are citizens playing the system too.

So basically, it’s ridiculously hard to stay in the United States and to remain legal, which is probably why there are so many illegal​ immigrants. I came here to play soccer and receive an education, which I have done. And I decided I wanted to stay and work, which I am doing. But if I am being completely honest, I’m not sure it’s worth it to go through this process again. So when my visa expires, perhaps it is another country that calls for me, one in which I can live freely.

A letter to Dallas Green

Dallas,

I recently attended your concert at the Georgia Theatre, the second time I have been fortunate enough to see you perform live. After your performance, I felt compelled to write to you given how much your music has impacted my life.

Just over two years ago when I first saw you perform, I was deeply in love with this girl. We admittedly first connected over our intense love for your song, “The Girl,” which was fitting given our relationship. Despite this love, I was in an immense amount of pain and so was she. This led to our relationship quickly becoming toxic as we fed off of each other’s’ darkness. I learnt quickly that she could not be there for me, no matter how much I needed her given that she was still processing the loss of her mother earlier in the year – when someone can’t be there for themselves, they certainly can’t be there for you. But that is when I found you. And more specifically, “Sleeping Sickness”. I used to listen to this song on repeat, crying, hurting, and searching. I was being consumed by darkness and I couldn’t save myself. I wanted someone, anyone, to save me. And although the events in my life continued to spiral out of control, for a moment I felt understood. I felt heard. I felt comforted by the words in your music.

Your music had an ability to connect to the deep chasm of pain I was feeling. This has led me to believe that you have suffered greatly because of your ability to connect and understand others’ sufferings. Although I would never wish great suffering upon anyone, I do know that some of the most beautiful people and work have originated from such great pain. Your music, in general, articulates this truth. You have an uncanny ability to write about the depths of pain in a beautiful, harmonious, hopeful way. “Body in a Box” is another favourite of mine for this reason – you take something that is usually considered depressing and you make it almost joyous, but in a way that does not sacrifice the understanding of the pain involved in such events.

I found myself in tears at your recent concert. Tears because of the heaviness I felt in my heart; a heaviness that includes the painful memories and emptiness of my suffering two years prior, but also a heaviness that is deeply grateful for your music, your words, and for you. In 2015, I had considered ending everything. And somehow, I feel that you have been there too. So amidst your pain and your suffering, the work you have created has offered me a friend. A solace. An understanding. Things that I could not find, nor receive, from the world around me. Your words saved me Dallas and I’m not sure I could ever articulate how sincerely grateful I am for that. To this day, I am continually moved by the raw and heartfelt work you produce, so thank you. Thank you for providing a friend for me during my darkest days. Your work is saving lives. And so are you.

In gracious appreciation,

Nicole

The humbling nature of suffering

There is much to learn from being on the receiving end of a particular situation that has formerly caused significant pain and suffering. And it is within this alternate, uncomfortable perspective that we become humbled.

Over the years, and as has been written in one of my more recent poems, I have struggled with friendships that have seemingly vanished without explanation. These were friendships that I considered true and balanced; vulnerabilities were reciprocated and effort mutual. The appreciation and gratitude for the other’s presence in one’s life was constantly established and known. So after sharing so much of oneself, how then could they merely disappear? And disappearing in today’s society is not literally disappearing, but a refusal to respond and acknowledge one’s existence in the form of replying to messages, hand-written letters, phone calls, and anything else posted on the internet.

I have come to learn that there are many things in life that we will never be able to understand. The disappearance of these individuals from my life was incredibly painful and still is to this day. These were individuals I felt deeply connected to either intellectually or as a soulmate. Their beliefs continually challenged my perspectives and I felt that I’ve grown from their relationships more than I have from many others. I continually found myself questioning: why? What is it about me that caused them to just stop talking to me? What did I do? What is fundamentally wrong with me?

But recently I have been humbled. I found myself on the receiving end of this situation as it was I who did the disconnecting. My brain tried to rationalise “why” – I tried to grasp onto any explanation to justify my behaviour, to help explain my actions, but I couldn’t. I just disconnected. And as much as I know it fucking sucks for the other individual, I genuinely could not help it, nor explain it.

And so I realise that the question I had been asking myself about the loss of former friendships was indeed the wrong question to be asking. A few years ago, one of my beautiful friends taught me about this concept of seasons and how people will come and go from your life, each coming initiating a new season. Some friendships only last the one season, while others might reappear annually. Each season serves a purpose and within that purpose is a lesson. Once this lesson has been learned, their presence becomes obsolete and you find yourself having to move on. The point this friend was making was that there is an acceptance and grace necessary as it pertains to friendships. To not accept, is to struggle. And to struggle is to suffer. Part of loving someone is accepting them, as they are, imperfect in their flaws. Love is not meant to be conditional, and in this context, my friendships had become conditional to me. I was only willing to love them if they were present in my life. But to do so is to create an energy of deficiency within myself, a neediness that repels those you are missing.

My mind keeps referring back to a podcast I heard about six months ago. In life, we are constantly moving through seasons. And when we hold on to a season, or a person in this situation, what was supposed to be a beautiful graduation, now becomes a messy and painful divorce. When we struggle against what is by attempting to explain it or understand it, we prolong the suffering. That is not to say we cannot grieve, because we must. An end of a season or the end of a relationship is no different than the end of a life; we must grieve the loss. Grief is a natural, necessary process and one in which has no fixed timeline. So instead of wishing for them to re-enter your life or to understand their intentions, be grateful and commemorate the interactions you shared and the purpose they served, whilst allowing yourself the space to grieve their absence.

I have a theory that the reason we still feel pain or bitterness or resentment about a certain situation or person is because there are still lessons to be learned from that experience. Often times I believe that is the reason we cannot let go of our past because we are still learning from it. This theory has held true for many of my most painful experiences in my life and I believe it is why I cannot let go of my collegiate experience, nor of the last girl I was seeing. I have not learned all there is to learn from my pain, but I know the learning is still constant. And I know this because I feel it within my heart as it slowly begins to soften and re-open towards others.

I am currently in the process of reading The Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton and within some of her early pages is the excerpt, “So sometimes one has simply to endure a period of depression for what it may hold of illumination if one can live through it, attentive to what it exposes or demands.” My understanding of this is that it is within stillness in which answers will arise. But answers cannot be provided unless one has first endured a period of depression, a period of learning and struggle. Because it is within these struggles that our deficiencies become illuminated, that it highlights where we are still stuck.

Pema Chödrön writes about this too in her book When Things Fall Apart. She talks about how when we are struggling, we feel we need something to grasp onto. We do not like not having reference points, or not being able to understand, but it is within this uncertainty that we find our answers. It is when we no longer hold on, when we choose to let go, that we come to understand. It is within this liminal space that we allow ourselves to see situations as they are, rather than what we want them might be. In uncertainty, and in stillness, our heart speaks loudest.

Over the past few months, I have struggled tremendously. But I find myself now nearing the other side. The heaviness in my heart is lifting, and lessons from my struggles are being understood. I realise that I could have saved myself much angst if I just sat within my pain and uncertainty, instead of attempting to explain and understand it. For the understanding comes when the storm has passed and clarity in one’s perception is restored. And May Sarton articulates this beautifully by stating that real life exists in solitude, in the opportunity to explore and discover what is happening or has happened. So allow yourself this space and uncertainty and you will find the answers you seek.