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Perla Ayora


I don’t know if I deserve to live in America. I have a job I love and feel safe in my house and have a colorful backyard.

Do I deserve to be free?
Why me?
Why can I sleep at night?

I think about the other immigrants, the ones who are in the camps right now, away from home, away from their favorite foods, their friends and families. Instead they are locked up in a room full of strangers. I imagine how it feels to spend years planning, leaving everything they know to chase The American Dream, to have a better future, but now the only dream they have is to get back home safe.

I am not better in any way.
I am not more kind.
I am not more wise.
Why can I sleep at night?

What about the people that I left behind? The architects, doctors, lawyers, and entrepreneurs who are living in Mexico trying to live a simple life, maybe trying to buy a house or pay their debts, but they just can’t.

I am not smarter.
I don’t work harder.
I am just another one.
Another Mexican.
Another immigrant.
Another human.

Why can I sleep at night?

Perla participated in a TMI Project online mini-storytelling workshop. This story was received as an online submission following the worksop.

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