No, we don't actually "live in the shadows."
Let's talk about the cost of in/visibility for the undocumented community
“Living in the shadows” is a phrase often used to characterize what it is like to live undocumented in the United States. This phrase paints a picture of individuals who are forced to hide, staying out of sight, constantly in fear of being discovered.
However, this is not our reality or how we navigate our lives.
Obama suggests undocumented individuals "can come out of the shadows,” as he unveiled immigration reform in 2014.
Lacking any nuance, this assumption that we are shadow-dwellers perpetuates the idea that we are criminals and a threat to society. We are hiding—people assume—because we have something to hide.
In reality, we are constantly navigating instances of visibility and invisibility. We are the prevalent face of physical and domestic labor in this country and then hidden away as a secret. Our undocumented experience is bound to a hidden social dimension that materializes only through the criminalization of our community. Unable to exist without fear, these contradictory embodiments of in/visibility demand us to give up parts of ourselves.
Learning to be in/visible
For many of us, learning to be invisible becomes a necessary survival tool. We constantly monitor our behavior and how we present ourselves to the world. We become actors in our own bodies. The fear of being discovered is exhausting and dehumanizing. It affects how we understand our experiences with illegality. It is not surprising that cautionary tales and warnings dominate our storytelling practices; we seek to protect ourselves and others from the consequences of being discovered.
There are real consequences and risks to being visible: rejection, exploitation, harassment, targeting, and—ultimately—deportation. For many, a life “living in the shadows” is necessary for survival. We avoid contact with law enforcement and limit our interactions with government agencies. We must be cautious about sharing personal information in seemingly harmless interactions. If there is even a possibility of being discovered, the cost is too high. The constant threat of what could happen is this country’s way of keeping us hidden, perpetuating the idea that we do not exist or that we exist only as criminals. It maintains our vulnerability and makes it easy to exploit and then dispose of us.
The constant threat of what could happen is this country’s way of keeping us hidden, perpetuating the idea that we do not exist or that we exist only as criminals.
However, there are also heavy costs to not being seen. For the sake of invisibility, we sacrifice ourselves. Misinformation and fear-mongering further complicate how we navigate society. Immigration enforcement practices such as workplace raids, traffic stops, and home visits can lead to family separation, trauma, and loss. The recent surge in deportations and anti-immigrant sentiments under the previous administration has heightened these fears and exacerbated the already precarious situation faced by many of us. Some folks are reluctant to seek medical help, workers are unable to report labor exploitation and discrimination, many may be afraid to participate in public life even in spaces deemed “sanctuaries.” Fear dominates our movements.
For the sake of invisibility, we sacrifice ourselves.
With invisibility comes misunderstanding. Unable to speak our truths, stereotypes deepen. We are reduced to a monolith, our diversity lost. Many of us feel disconnected from broader society, negatively impacting our mental health and well-being. We sacrifice individuality in exchange for safety, perceived but not promised.
But we are not invisible.
We exist, like everybody else. We are a part of your community. We go to the same schools, events, religious gatherings, grocery stores, restaurants, and more. Our hopes, dreams, and ambitions deserve recognition, just like everybody else. A focus on invisibility costs us validation for the real contributions that undocumented immigrants make to society. Despite the significant barriers we face, we contribute to the culture, economy, and social fabric of our communities. See us.
Propina: See Our Diversity
We are more than our status and greater than our fears.
By highlighting the diversity of undocumented immigrants, we can challenge the dominant stereotype that we “live in the shadows,” and promote a more inclusive and equitable society. As a starting place, here are a few documentaries that emphasize our diversity.
We’ll see you next week.