Buried beneath the perceptions of the “model minority” are the undocumented Asian-Americans,
Buried beneath the perceptions of the “model minority” are the undocumented Asian-Americans, their struggles not quite recognized.
While there are several factors contributing to the group being overlooked, such as media stereotypes and fear of deportation, it starts in the Asian-American community itself.
“You don’t share your problems, your family’s issues,” said Carla Navoa, a 22-year-old undocumented Chicago Filipino-American. “Matters of the home stay in the home. That can be said for a lot of immigrant communities, but especially with ours.”
Navoa, a student at University of Illinois at Chicago, is among the 490,000 undocumented immigrants in Illinois, according to U.S. Department of Homeland Security estimates. She has been an advocate for the rights of undocumented students, rallying for both the federal and Illinois DREAM Acts, among other movements.
A youth organizer for the Korean American Resource and Cultural Center and the only Asian member of the Immigrant Youth Justice League, she publicly came out with her status last December.
“In that speech, I addressed the Asian-American community, the Filipino community, because I felt like I hadn’t gotten any support from them,” Navoa said. “Because I felt like it’s still really a big stigma to be undocumented and to be out.”
And while there is wide recognition and publicity about undocumented Hispanics, many people are unaware that there are about a million undocumented Asian-Americans in the United States, said Tuyet Le, executive director of the Asian American Institute in Chicago.
“Within the [Hispanic] community, I think it’s something people are more open to talking about,” Le said. But because the Asian community is fewer in number and more hesitant to come forward, “I don’t think there is a perceived safe space where people would not feel they would be criticized,” Le said.
Navoa said some Asian families do not want to show their struggles, “internalizing that notion of the ‘model minority’ and wanting to fit into it as much as possible, even if you are undocumented and trying to hide that part about yourself.”
A Korean-American undocumented student at Loyola University, who asked not to be named, said that hiding prevents her from forming genuine friendships at times.
“Ever since I entered college, and even now, I’m kind of scared about coming out about it and having people find out,” she said. “Because the Korean community is so small that I think it would spread. There would be rumors, so I’ve always been nervous about that.”
She was brought to the U.S. as a 1-year-old and wasn’t told by her parents until she was in high school that she was undocumented.
The families of both the Loyola student and Navoa arrived in the United States legally. The student’s father came with a student visa to finish his undergraduate studies, while Navoa’s family was here on a travel visa. Complications kept both families from becoming legal residents after they decided they wanted to stay.
“I think people and the media perpetuate stereotypes about undocumented immigrants as crossing the border in terms of illegally,” Le said. “A lot of Asian immigrants become undocumented after overstaying visas.” So many Asian-Americans do not necessarily identify with how other undocumented communities arrive, she said.
Le said she has seen more Asian-Americans becoming involved in organizing and raising their voice in the last few years.
“Having that as a level of consistent activity is a way that our community can be taken seriously,” Le said.
Navoa said she explained to her family that it’s her responsibility to be active in raising her voice in this issue.
“I don’t want to speak for anyone but myself, but to have other Asian-American young people see that they can speak out and overcome that fear — I wanted to lead in that shift in thinking,” Navoa said.
She recounted the moments when anxiety about her status and future consumed her to the point where she was hospitalized for depression.
“One way I was able to stabilize, feel in control of my life again, was because I came out,” Navoa said. “Because I was able to unload this really big burden, this big secret. So coming out is a really, really necessary thing in order to be able to heal.”
http://news.medill.northwestern.edu/chicago/news.aspx?id=193434