The Golden Cage of Opportunity

Isidro left his home in Mexico, went to find the American Dream, and found it to be more of a nightmare. He wakes up every day at 3 a.m. and goes to work, where he glues foam on car and truck parts. Financially, he’s doing well - or at least above Mexican standards. But he doesn’t use that money for diversions and fun- he usually sends about half of each paycheck home to his mother. He’s only 22, yet he’s the main source of income for his family back home.

Isidro’s mother, Marcela, is still in Apan, a small city in rural Mexico, tending to the family store. When asked, she knows exactly how long it’s been since she has seen Isidro. Two years, three months. One of the first purchases she made with the money he sent was a telephone, so she could talk with Isidro. When she was neglected by her husband - both emotionally and financially - Marcela turned to her Isidro, her oldest son, for support. “He was my confidant,” she said. “I still miss him.”

Isidro and Marcela talk at least once a week, more if she isn’t feeling well. She calls from her room in the back of the store she’s able to rent with money from Isidro. Her meager income from the store and the money he sends helps Isidro’s younger brother be able to afford school.

Isidro left Apan when he was 19. He tried to attend college, but couldn’t afford the cost – low by American standards, formidably high by his. Without a college education, his only options in Apan were factory jobs, making plastic trinkets or sewing clothes he would never be able to afford. Even if he managed to get a degree, his options would have been extremely limited by a lack of available jobs.

Three years ago, Isidro’s uncle, who had lived in the United States for six years, suggested Isidro join him in the United States. Isidro decided this was probably his best chance to get ahead in life. “In Apan, immigration is necessary to continue forward,” says Isidro. “You can be stable in Mexico, in Apan. But it’s always the same, so you can’t advance.”

So he paid a pollero, a human smuggler, to guide him across the border. When I talked to Isidro, he didn’t tell me about the trip, and he kept dodging the subject. I heard the story from his friend, Marco, who stayed in Apan. Isidro made his way to the border, where he was put in a concealed compartment with a group of other people. They didn’t have water or any place to go to the bathroom. Once he got across the border, he stayed in a crowded hotel room before finally making it to Elkhart, Indiana, where his uncle lives. Now, Isidro is one of what the Pew Hispanic centers estimates as over 11 million undocumented workers in the United States. Pushed out by poor economies in their home countries and pulled towards the promise of a better life, the number of undocumented workers in the United States has more than doubled since 2002.

There is a term that is common among Mexican immigrants to describe the United States- juala de oro, golden cage. The United States to them is not a land of opportunity, of freedom, of liberty. It is a land flowing not with milk and honey, just with money. The streets may be paved with gold, but the streets are walked alone, far away from loved ones.

Isidro is not living the American Dream. He is working an entry-level job at a factory, with little hope for advancement here. He doesn’t have many friends, or really any motivation to make friends here. He doesn’t have time after work. Sure, he’s making more money than he would at home. But he’s realized life isn’t all about money. Life is about family, about friends. Isidro’s life is at home, in Apan, and no amount of money can make up for that.

Isidro has a message for those people: “Don't lose your chance at opportunity,” Isidro says. “Take advantage of it if you don't want to come to suffer here.”


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