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Miriam’s Immigration Story – Mexico City, Mexico to Tiffin, Iowa

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Tragic Beginning

Miriam’s father, an actor, died of colon cancer when she was six. It was a struggle for him to come to terms with his life ending, and his way of dealing with the pain was with violence.

“A lot of memories I have with my dad are really sad memories.” (audio below)

Above: Miriam has a few positive memories of her father. She can remember him dressing up for them in his costumes and making them laugh.

Miriam went with her aunt to get a black ribbon to tie on the store’s door – still not understanding that her dad was dead. When her older sister told her, Miriam didn’t cry; she felt free from the violence and relieved he was no longer in pain.

Miriam remembers seeing a document after his death that said she was an orphan.

“How could I be an orphan if I have a mom? Mexico’s culture is centered on the father figure – the male in the house – so it was very hard for my mom to be a widow and raise three girls.”

After her father’s death, if Miriam and her two sisters weren’t at school, they needed to work in the family store selling material for arts and crafts to support the family. Their only day off was Sunday.

Above: Miriam’s mother, with kittens, at the family’s arts and crafts store.

Art as an Escape

The one blessing of working in the store was that Miriam had constant access to all the art materials she could dream of – art was her escape. Miriam is the middle child of the three sisters – her older sister was rebellious and her younger sister was “the sweet girl”. Miriam had to be the responsible one. 

“I had to be strong and help my mom. At some point, I said, ‘okay, I’m going to be the man of the house.’”

If something broke Miriam would help fix it, or if someone was bullying her sisters, she would defend them. (audio below)

Her life growing up was not easy, and she remembers feeling like it would never improve. In 1985, when she was 15, she decided she was going to run away. Miriam had her things packed and was ready to run away. The day she was ready to leave, her older sister was gone – she had beat Miriam to it. Miriam’s mother was crying, and Miriam realized then, that she couldn’t leave too. (audio below)

Artist

Miriam always wanted to be an artist, but this was not something she felt her family or Mexican society in general supported. She remembers hearing how “artists are losers”. This didn’t make sense to Miriam though. The work of artists like Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, and David Alfaro Siqueiros is so important to her culture. She saw how artists were the people everyone remembers, even after they are gone. 

Above: Collapsed building from the 1985 earthquake | United States Geological Survey

In 1985, Mexico City suffered a massive earthquake – a significant moment in her teenage life. She recalls it being like a warzone with the entire downtown completely devastated. Miriam’s family had to move from their apartment to her aunt’s house. She felt compelled to document the scenes of devastation, but she didn’t have a camera. After that, Miriam decided she needed to get a camera. (audio below)

Miriam told her mom she was leaving to become an artist. She had a boyfriend, a journalist, who helped her get her first good camera. Miriam was gone for three years, but her life wasn’t heading in the right direction. She was getting into drugs and alcohol and had low self-esteem.

“I was letting myself follow a dream, swimming in a storm in the ocean, floating in the open sea.”

Spirituality

Miriam would describe her mom as a “seeker”, someone who is always looking for something. She has tried various different religions. When Miriam was 18, her mom called to say she had met her Guru in a dream. A woman dressed in red came, took her by the hand, and led Miriam’s mother to her spiritual teacher, a woman in India. Miriam’s mom felt that this dream really meant something and ended up going to an Ashram. When she saw Gurumayi, she recognized her as the Guru from that dream. 

 “Meeting Gurumayi was a 360-degree change for all of us”. 

The whole family ended up connecting with Gurumayi, and after Miriam did, she started to meditate. She found this had a positive effect on her outlook and happiness. Miriam moved back in with her mom, kept studying, and managed to put the pain and sadness from the past behind her. Although this felt like a positive change in their lives, not everybody in conservative Mexican society viewed it that way. 

 “Meditating was like the devil. It’s not Catholic, so we became ‘the witches’. I didn’t care. Now I see schools teaching kids to meditate, but not back then. It’s very hard to follow a path that people don’t understand.”

University

When Miriam chose her major for university, biology, she felt like she was betraying her inner-artist. She tried to justify it by convincing herself that one day she would become a science photographer. By the time she was finishing her degree, she was already working as a scientist in Ensenada, Baja California in collaboration with NASA 1997 to 1998. She studied the productivity of micro-organisms in the Pacific Ocean through satellite imagery, but she didn’t like it, sitting there looking at a lot of numbers all day. She was doing the research in English, so everything took her extra long. 

Above: Eight months pregnant in Ensenada, Baja California.

Miriam met the man who would become her husband when she was in high school, and he too was a scientist. Miriam’s daughter was born before the research in Baja California was finished, and then they all moved to Huatulco, a coastal tourist town in Oaxaca, where Miriam worked as an art teacher.

Above: In 2001, a Mexican diaper company had a contest asking people to dress their children up in a costume that includes their diapers, send in a photo, and possibly win money. Miriam dressed her son as actor Pedro Infante and her daughter as the Statue of Liberty.

Iowa

Miriam’s goal was to attend grad school in either Australia or the USA. Her husband (now ex-husband) is a marine biologist whose main focus is on coral evolution. Iowa happens to be full of fossil corals. The next town over from Tiffin, where Miriam lives now, is actually called Coralville because thousands of years ago it was a sea and full of corals. Miriam knew nothing about Iowa before moving there.

“In my brain, it was like coming to Alaska. Everything is just white and ice and cold. In Mexico, we were living on the beach and it was beautiful. I love hot weather.”

Miriam and her two children, ages one and three, moved to Iowa City in 2002 to join her husband who had come the year before to start his Ph.D. They couldn’t afford to bring many suitcases – they left most of their things behind. Miriam was surprised that her husband didn’t have a place for them to stay. They arrived at one in the morning, and her husband was living in a shared house with other students. That first night they slept in the living room.

Luckily the university has a program for international families, and they eventually managed to get a place. Still, it was just an empty apartment with no furniture. Their kind Argentinian neighbor was excited Miriam could speak Spanish and showed her how to look for things in dumpsters that Americans threw away. Miriam found lots of stuff like a bed for her kids, a chair, and pots to cook. The neighbor also brought Miriam to the International Women’s Group – a meeting with other women who were in similar situations. These women showed Miriam kindness and even gave her a bunch of toys and warm winter jackets for her kids. 

Above: Miriam’s children, one and three, were fascinated by the snow in their first week in Iowa. Miriam got the broom out, having no idea that people used shovels to clear snow (audio below).

Struggling

For those first four years in Iowa, Miriam was just trying to make sure her family survived. Her husband was always working, so she needed to take care of everything at home. She also needed to work. She was not only trying to support her family in Iowa financially, but she was also trying to send money back to her mother in Mexico. Miriam remembers going for her first job interview, and her little son climbing all over the interviewer. Her first job was as a baker making muffins and scones from 3:30 until 8 am. 

She heard about a scholarship that was available to the family of students already enrolled at the university, so she applied and got it. She was able to start studying at university pursuing a degree in photography and multimedia. 

By the time her husband had almost finished his Ph.D. the kids were just starting elementary school. It seemed like he was concentrating so much at school, that he forgot about the family. When the kids wanted to spend time with him, he was always too busy. She will never forget the day she asked him for a hug, and he said “no”. She decided then and there that she would never beg for a hug again. (audio below)

Above: Miriam’s mother with her grandchildren [left], Miriam’s markings of her children’s height [middle], & Miriam walking outside her house.

Divorce

Miriam knew that she needed to think more about herself and her kids. She wanted to stay and finish her university degree, but her husband wanted to return to Mexico. She told him to go back without her and the kids. He left in 2005 and Miriam’s mom came from Mexico to help her. In 2006 her mom started getting sick. Miriam didn’t have insurance for her so she went back to Mexico and brought the children so they could visit their father. Miriam stayed in the US to finish her courses.  

She thought her husband would get the children visas so they could travel back to the US to see her after three months, but he took his time. She had to wait seven months before she was able to see her children again. 

“It was the most horrible time in my entire life. I cried every single day. I could not handle being without my kids.”

Above: Miriam sitting below the painting she made after the relationship with her husband ended. (audio below)

Finally, her children came back to Iowa, and Miriam’s daughter said she wanted to stay in the US and go to school. She wasn’t going to deny her seven-year-old daughter a better education. Miriam took on two jobs, looked after her children, and tried to study. Eventually, Miriam had to drop out of university and she was never able to finish her degree. Miriam found out about a school district with “before and after school”, so her kids could go to school when she was working. These sacrifices paid off. Both of her children did very well in school – her daughter was even the valedictorian.

“We came for school, stayed for school, and we are still here for school”.

Butterflies

Miriam has an art studio inside her house. Much of her work has an underlying message. Miriam’s current piece is of a butterfly and is dedicated to the “Dreamers” (those with DACA). 

“For the butterfly, borders don’t matter. Butterflies belong to all of America from Mexico to Canada. I really hope people understand that, like the butterflies, it doesn’t really matter where you have to move – home is inside you, you know. It doesn’t matter where you are.”

She can’t understand why these young people, who have been in the US for most of their lives, have to struggle because of a piece of paper. She thinks it’s beautiful, like the butterfly, how so many of them overcome obstacles and are able to become successful professionals.

Lucha Libre

Miriam believes her late father always wanted a son. He loved watching sports like Lucha Libre, football, and boxing. He often treated Miriam like a boy, cutting her hair short, and reflecting on this now, she sees he was looking for a bond with a son. She really didn’t like Lucha Libre at first, but she would watch it with him, and he would tell her all the rules.

“I love Lucha Libre because it combines a lot of things. It’s like a circus. They have to be great athletes but also it’s theater and the spectators are part of the show. The luchadores feed on the energy from the spectators.”

The wrestling mask, known as the mascara, is an essential part of Lucha Libre. For many luchadores,  their careers end when their mask comes off. 

“The mascara is a symbol of the entire culture. It includes everyone. There are women luchadores, little people, people who are gay, people of all different ages, and the spectators are from the lower-income to the very rich, all in the same space screaming for their favorite luchador.” (audio below)

No Longer Invisible

Miriam noticed the Latino community in Iowa is “completely invisible”. A lot of cultural events, specifically within the arts, are too expensive for many Latino families in the area. She wanted to elevate their voices. Since 2017 Miriam has been trying to document Latinos in Iowa for her project Luchadores Immigrants in Iowa. She began doing interviews and photographs, but everyone told her they didn’t want to show their face. Miriam came up with the idea of a project where the participants can hide their true identities by wearing a custom-designed mascara, and still share their migration story.

Miriam didn’t realize how emotional and personal doing this project would become. She tries to balance connecting with the participants’ stories, while not letting them get to her so personally that they crush her heart. She has witnessed the diversity of immigration stories within Iowa’s Latino community – and many stories that make her feel privileged.

Creativity

Miriam’s son has always appreciated and benefited from, his mom’s creativity. He would always ask his mom to make outlandish Halloween costumes, and no matter what it was Miriam would make it. In tenth grade, he requested the Radish Spirit from Haya Miyazaki’s “Spirited Away” and within one day Miriam delivered [see the above photo]. (audio below)

Tragedy

One of the toughest moments in Miriam’s life was when her little sister, the “sweet one” [see the photo above], died in October 2018 at age 47. She died from the same thing that killed their father – colon cancer. Miriam has found it incredibly painful being separated from family during times like this but feels fortunate to have been able to video chat with her sister before she passed away. 

“Life comes with death. You can’t have one without the other one and you never know when it is going to be your turn.”

Future

Miriam works on her art when she is not at her day job at the local grocery co-op. She would love to one day be a full-time artist. She would also love to return to Mexico, and one day create a non-profit in Oaxaca that helps women and children, but she loves Iowa.

“I’ve found so many beautiful people in Iowa who have helped me in so many ways.”

Miriam stayed in America for her children. Their needs have always come first. Her daughter is at university and planning on going to grad school and her son is finishing high school and planning on going to university. Miriam couldn’t be prouder.

Above: Miriam’s daughter at University [left]

Hope

Seeing people reject immigrants breaks Miriam’s heart. She has heard their stories and wants others to see the humanity in them. Miriam emphasizes that with climate change, this movement of people in search of safety isn’t going to stop. 

“I really hope all countries realize that we are one, independent of what country we are born in. Borders don’t really exist – they are there to organize. When you have to leave everything behind to have a better chance, you are going to take the chance despite all the odds. You find people in your path who will make that path easier, and more welcoming. We need to realize that all we have is this planet and we have to share it. It’s not for one person, it is for everyone.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.

Jazmin’s Immigration Story – Paracho de Verduzco, Mexico to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

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Childhood

Jazmin was born in Paracho de Verduzco, a small city in Michoacán, the same place her father was born. When she was only a few months old, they moved to Tijuana, and at a year old, her parents separated. Jazmin went to Cherán, her mother’s hometown.

Above: Jazmin’s doll representing Cheran’s Danza de los Viejitos. The dance is performed at festivals by young men who dress up like old men.

When Jazmin was four, her father, who was living in the US, asked her mom if she would bring Jazmin and join him there.

United States

Jazmin’s memory of going to the US in 1996 as a four-year-old, is vague. She was in the car with her mother, her aunt, and her five-year-old cousin. She remembers commenting to her cousin on the lights as they drove north – it was the first time she had seen city lights like that.

“I thought the lights were all candles. My cousin said, ‘no dummy those aren’t candles, those are matches!’” (audio below)

They didn’t make it to the US on the first try. Their car was stopped at the Texas border and they were put in a detention center. After being returned to Mexico and released, they tried to cross the border again, and this time they made it.

Their first stop was Henderson, North Carolina, where Jazmin’s father, uncle, and grandfather were working in the tobacco fields [see the photo below]. After a week, the family moved on to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Jazmin felt incredibly discouraged as a teenager in Philadelphia. She ended up dropping out of high school at the end of freshman year. 

“I dropped out because I felt like I didn’t belong here. All my friends were getting their driver’s licenses and hoping to go to college. When I started the process, they asked for a social security number, which I thought I had, but I didn’t. I didn’t understand the meaning of being undocumented until I was in high school and needed that SSN.” 

Return to Mexico

Jazmin didn’t want to be in school if she couldn’t go to college. After dropping out at 15, she started working full time as a server in a Vietnamese restaurant. Jazmin heard that her uncle was leaving for Mexico, and she told her mom that she was going to go with him – Jazmin thought she could start going to school again in Mexico. Her mom broke down in tears as she didn’t want Jazmin to leave her. In the end, she decided to go with Jazmin, and they moved back to Mexico together in 2008.

Jazmin started high school in Mexico, but she was finding it hard to pay for everything: uniform, textbooks, rent, food, etc. At first, Jazmin’s mom tried to help with the bills by selling tacos but after a few months, she returned to the US. After her mom left, Jazmin ended up dropping out of school again. She couldn’t see a future for herself in Mexico.

Immigrating… Again

Jazmin decided to try and return to the US in 2011 at 18 years of age and eight months pregnant. The only person who knew she was pregnant at the time was her father. 

Even though it was a risk to her and her baby’s life, Jazmin thought it was worth it for her daughter’s future. 

“I didn’t want my daughter going through what I went through and I would have risked everything to get her to be a US citizen and not have to jump borders like I was. I want her to have the opportunities that I didn’t.” (audio below)

Jazmin took the bus to the border and called her dad. She hadn’t told him her plan ahead of time, and he was surprised to hear that she was going to cross. The next time she called him, Jazmin was being held hostage.   

Hostage

While waiting at the bus station with her “coyote” (the person she hired to help her cross the border) two trucks suddenly pulled up and told them to get in. The men were part of an armed cartel – Jazmin could see weapons and blood in the truck. They took her coyote’s phone, but Jazmin hid hers and managed to text her dad. They brought her to a payphone and made her call her dad. The cartel told him they wanted five thousand dollars each for her and her coyote, or else they would kill them. Her father told the cartel he didn’t have much money, and eventually, they said they would take $1500 and would help Jazmin cross to the US. Her dad deposited the money. (audio below)

For two weeks, Jazmin waited in a small one-room wooden house packed with other people waiting to cross. They tried twice to take Jazmin to the river to cross, but each time there were flashing lights on the other side. On the third attempt, they put Jazmin and another pregnant woman in inflatable donuts and pulled them across. She thought she was going to drown. On the other side, they walked for three hours, then they were told to run to a car that was supposed to be waiting for them once they reached the road; instead, the immigration authorities were there. 

Kindness

Jazmin remembers the immigration officer asking for her name. He could see she was pregnant. She told him everything: how she had lived most of her life in the US, then left for Mexico, and was now trying to return for her daughter’s future. Jazmin knows he could have deported her right away, but he didn’t. He asked her if she wanted to see a judge, and she said, “no.” Now that Jazmin understands more about immigration law, she knows that if she had seen a judge, she could have asked for asylum based on all that has happened to her.

“Instead of deporting me, the officer gave me an ‘involuntary departure.’ He took me back to Mexico and dropped me off at a bus station. Instead of just telling me to go by myself, he crossed with me to make sure I was going to be okay.” (audio below)

The Boat

She called her dad from the bus station in Tamaulipas – worried, he asked her what she wanted to do next. She told him she would stay in Mexico. After the conversation, while at the bus station, she met a guy who seemed trustworthy, explained her situation, and he said he could help her cross to the US with his boat. 

The next morning Jazmin told this stranger that she wanted his help. Within 15 minutes, she was in Texas. She got off the boat and ran to the nearest house. The person in the house brought her to a gas station and told her, “good luck.” She called her dad from the payphone, and he had her aunt, who lives in Texas, go pick her up. (audio below)

Jazmin stayed in Texas for two weeks with her aunt – eight months pregnant, and exhausted. She could either stay and have the baby in Texas or go with her father by car to Philadelphia. Jazmin decided to go. 

She remembers the checkpoint on their way north, and the officer commenting on her being pregnant. Jazmin thought they were going to ask her for an ID or papers, but they didn’t. Her pregnancy was enough of a distraction. Three days after getting to Philadelphia, Jazmin gave birth.

Education

Jazmin told her mom that she wanted to find a job and try going back to school. That year she attended three different high schools. The last school had an accelerated program, and Jazmin was able to finish all of her four years of high school in only two. After applying and receiving DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) in 2013, Jazmin started attending Esperanza College for a degree in criminal justice. She managed to afford college by getting an international scholarship, working a part-time job, as well as living with her mother rent-free.

On top of the financial challenges, her father, who is an alcoholic, started drinking a lot. This forced Jazmin and her daughter to move in with an aunt who was kind enough to let her stay and eat rent-free. She knows she couldn’t have graduated without her family’s support. 

Jazmin went on to pursue a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and graduated in 2016.

“This is my college graduation hat [see the photo below], dedicated to our traditional dance, ‘Danza de los Viejitos’. On it, I wrote: ‘Fly as high as you can without forgetting where you come from’. It’s something we all should keep in mind. We can’t forget our roots because that’s what led us to be who we are now.” (audio below)

Inspiration

Jazmin was 18 when she had her daughter. Jazmin’s mom, who didn’t know about her daughter’s pregnancy, was pregnant at the same time that she was. Jazmin’s mother gave birth three months before she did, so Jazmin’s sister and her daughter have grown up like twins. 

“I always dressed them alike, treated them alike, and they grew up like sisters even though one is an aunt, and one is a niece.” (audio below)

Everything that Jazmin does is with her daughter and sister in mind. She wants them to see a positive example of what they should and can do. Jazmin didn’t grow up with a role model who went to college, let alone finish high school, and she loves that her daughter, siblings, and cousins can look up to her and see that going to college is an option. 

In many ways, Jazmin thinks having a daughter as a teenager, gave her the motivation to keep going and be the best possible version of herself. If she hadn’t had that responsibility early on in her life, she thinks she may be working at a factory or even an alcoholic like her father. (audio below)

Jazmin remembers when she felt out of place in school because the other kids’ parents were professionals. She was the only one who didn’t want to say where her mom worked because she was a cleaner. She thought the other kids would look down on her family. Now that she is an adult, she recognizes how hard her mother was working to provide for her. (audio below)

La Muerte

Jazmin says that trying to cross the border is like playing with “la muerte”.

“The border is something indescribable. It’s a place that’s not for humans. It’s like a game – I usually compare it to playing cat and mouse. The immigrants are the mice. The cats are playing to trap the mouse.”  

She wants people to know that immigrants aren’t coming to the US to take anything from Americans. She also wishes most Americans would reflect on the fact that their ancestors came from somewhere else at some point. 

“The US is where everybody seeks their dreams – “American dreams” – so why aren’t immigrants accepted? You never know what they’ve gone through. At the end of the day, everybody is working. I’ve been reporting taxes, so I’m not stealing from anyone – I’m actually giving back. We would just like to be accepted.”  (audio below)

Philly

Jazmin likes living in Philadelphia now, and truly believes it is the “city of brotherly love.” She feels like it’s a friendly place where other cultures are appreciated. As an example, on October 4th she was outside her home, dressed in traditional clothing and cooking for the Patron Feast. The neighbors came over because they were curious and wanted to know more about what she was celebrating. Jazmin appreciated that they took an interest, and feels like this kindness is symbolic of the city. 

Above; Jazmin’s “Golden Door Award” from HIAS, a Jewish American nonprofit organization that provides humanitarian aid and assistance to refugees.

Pride

Jazmin works at a law office as a senior paralegal. In 2017, she was the first Latino and first DACA recipient to receive the HIAS “Golden Door Award” for the legal services she has provided to Philadelphia’s immigrant community. Jazmin is determined to go to law school and get her Juris Doctor degree.

“Law is my passion and I’m not going to give up my passion just because I don’t have papers. That’s not a good reason to stop. If we are already here, we might as well prove to the US that we are here and contributing and can help.”

Jazmin hopes her daughter tell her friends at school proudly, “my mom works at an attorney’s office.”

*Update: Since the interview, Jazmin was able to obtain a T visa (a visa for certain victims of human trafficking and immediate family members to remain and work temporarily in the United States). She also gave birth to her second daughter and is waiting on the birth of her first son.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.