Almost 20 years ago, in my early teens, I came to United States. I was raised by uncles and aunts, socialized by cousins and family friends. With starry-eyed dreams to become a filmmaker and a writer, I went on to pursue a "safer" career path in Mechanical Engineering from an Ivy League school. After graduating with a masters degree, I landed a job with a handsome salary from which, for the next seven years, I would go onto chip in around USD 230,000 to US Treasury in tax receipts.
I find myself, today, planning to leave US to migrate to Canada in order for me to become a permanent resident of the Home Up North. This rather peculiar, and yet oddly inevitable once you get to know the whole spiel, decision is a result of series of disappointing and hopeless events. I won't go into them. To be curt, I came to US as a minor and, unbeknownst to me, overstayed my visa to become undocumented. My papers were missing but experience was wholly American. To protect folks like me from deportation and give them a chance to a dignified life by allowing us to work legally, DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) was instituted of which I had been a beneficiary for the past seven years.
For few years, I had forgotten what suffocation felt like. I could breathe. I could go about my life. I could make mistakes. I could visit places. I could plan. I could wonder. I could live. But today DACA is on life support, possibly taking its last breath before Supreme Court pulls the plug (if you are interested in "why" and "how" of all this, I have posted some relevant links below).
Today when I have a life partner, tenuous nature of the ozone layer of DACA over me and the freedoms it gave and the freedoms it just couldn't afford have never been clearer to me. Traveling outside of US, though possible earlier but still tricky, is prohibited now. By its very temporary character, long term investments in home, business, retirement - stuff that gives an illusion of stability - was never more than a firefly trapped in a fist. Such inequities weighed less than staying in US. But today, in my early 30s, and my hand in hers, scale has tipped... finally.
WE... want to visit our home country, meet our family, have a homestyle wedding, smell those streets, visit Europe, Australia, South America and what not, work fearlessly, have a voice. WE... want to live.
It is a sad commentary on the part of US that because of political toxicity, I am almost asked to leave. It goes as "take your tax dollars, take your education that you got from us, take your norms that we imbibed in you, and please go to Canada and be a permanent resident there."
I don't want you to think that it's all dark and gloomy. The scale has tipped. I am looking forward to all the things on the other plate, for they hold the promise of life, a world experience, and... most importantly, beginning of forming a legacy.
With nostalgia that comes with leaving a home and excitement of entering a new one, I am starting this blog to document our journey to applying for Canadian immigration. We hope that anybody interested in immigrating to Canada will have some use of this.
Related Links
DACA Litigation Timeline (National Immigration Law Center)
Thank you for sharing your Journey! I just started reading the first post and will continue to read the rest. I share a somewhat similar experience. I've had to work more than focus on school and thinking of how to pay for it. As the political nature continues, I find myself wondering if trying to move to Canada would be a better option. As I still have a degree to finish here, I don't know that I will be able to move until after Fall 2022 or Spring 2023 depending on when I graduate. But with everything going on, I find myself increasingly anxious with no outlet. I look forward to following your journey.
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