This morning DACA was rescinded and I am reminded once again that I live in a country that doesn’t recognize me as a member of its society. Every day when I go to my less-than-ideal job that pays less than my qualifications, without the hope that I can find something better, I am reminded that I am different.
I am only DACA-adjacent, being “too old” and all, which ironically also means that I’ve lived in America longer than many current recipients of DACA. My “default” language is English, even though I am also fully fluent in Mandarin, my “native” language. As I sit here typing I am watching the Dodgers play America’s favorite pastime.
How do I define American? Confusing.