A Miami Immigrant Speaks Out
By Evelyn López, 10th grade
2007 Role Models Today Writing Contest Winner
May 15, 2007

In 2000 Elián González stepped onto American soil, motherless.  The United States was made aware of this situation, but I felt its effects more strongly as both a Miami resident and an immigrant.  The question lay in deciding whether the child should remain in the United States with his extended family or return to a communist Cuba, to his father.  Although I was only in the fifth grade, I was encouraged by my teacher to voice my opinion, and I did so.

I raised my hand with a hint of apprehension, understanding that my opinion could cause upheaval; I did so anyway.  It was my responsibility to do so.  I began with the disclaimer to the Cubans in the classroom, over half the students, that what I was about to say might offend them, but could not remain unsaid.  I had set the ball in motion, and there was no turning back.  I stated that I disagreed with Elián’s staying in Miami and that he should return to his father, who had a greater right to be with his son than any extended family.  As the second part of my discourse, I brought up the situation involving hundreds of Haitians who were detained off the coast of South Florida, but upon mentioning them, ironically, I realized that few students knew what I was referring to.  Years later, I would come to realize the partiality of the United States represented by the discordant treatment of the Haitians as compared to Cubans immigrating to the United States (but that’ll be another story).

Logically, it might seem as though I would discourage the influx of immigrants into Miami.  But if I were to do so, I would betray not only who I am, but also dishonor my family and all the trials and tribulations they endured to offer me the opportunity to write this essay in English.

Another disheartening trend I have noticed is the excessive assimilation of people of my culture into that of the United States.  I have come to realize that several of my peers, who are first generation American-born, having Hispanic non-English speaking parents, are forgetting where they came from.  Some cannot communicate in Spanish, others cannot dance salsa, and even others cringe at the sight of a plate of rice in favor of a Big Mac.  I feel that the culture which I am so proud of and so adamantly embrace is becoming diluted by those who deny the vibrancy of their own people.  I see this denial everyday when a José does not place the accent on his e; it symbolizes his disregard for who he really is to placate those around him by removing the responsibility of acknowledging who he really is: José not Jose.

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