What a weekend. Whoa, I'm tired. After a long, extenuating bus-drive back from Gainesville, Florida, I am finally back in the comfort of my home. Three days, two nights with my FLIC family is exactly what I needed and I would not have had it any other way. I wanted to go on this trip because I felt as if I was in debt with my immigrant youth community. From the beginning of this Fall 2011 semester, I had been busy as heck. Basically, working as a full-time tennis coach, five days a week, three hours a day, going to class, and balancing schoolwork, left me with little time to focus on S.W.E.R. and the Florida Immigrant Youth Network. This left me with a bitter taste in my mouth since I originally wanted my last semester at St. Thomas University to be fully engulfed in raising awareness for the immigrant youth movement in Florida with many innovative ideas and plans in my head. But, with the changing circumstances, I felt forced to step down and responsibly give my place to someone who would spearhead the immigration stance better than I would be able to at STU. Jose Salcedo, a great friend of mine, was the person for the job, but I jumped at the opportunity at being able to attend the annual FLIC Congress once Jose asked me to join him.
So, these last couple of days were truly amazing and inspiring. Being in the presence of great leaders of the immigrant community of our Sunshine State and discussing past, present, and future plans and projects is exactly what I needed to feel grounded again. To hear Maria Rodriguez's resoundingly positive voice reverberate strength for the future of Florida in my ear or to carefully and attentively listen to a central Florida farm worker retell his vivid story of being caught in a deportation raid, was what captured my heart and soul at last year's FLIC Congress. This time around it was not any different.
I needed this dose of reality once again in my life. It was as if the bucket of ice water that's labeled, "immigrant," "undocumented," "alien," "different," that is splashed time and time again in my face did not make me stagger as I sometimes have staggered in the past. Instead, when I am around my FLIC, S.W.E.R., and immigrant family, I feel as if I am not standing alone in front of that water bucket, but courageously defying it. All of us, standing side by side, ready to take the brunt of prejudice, xenophobia, and injustice with our heads held high.
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