As I sit here reminiscing on my past world, I cannot avoid the thoughts of our fight for the DREAM Act. My voice blending in with the voices of my people. Together we became one.

We walked through the streets of L.A., each one of us fighting for our rights. I saw hundreds of people walking in the same direction that I was going in. The sight of this made me feel a strange bond with those people. I felt like I knew them, yet, I couldn’t recognize a single face.

It seemed to us that we were invincible; we were united. We cried in desperation but with a pinch of hope as our tongues released the last word.

Have you ever been in a pool of beings that look just like you, who speak just as you do- our accents defining our native land- who sweat, pray, cry, plead, and laugh just as you do? If you haven’t, you have never experienced the almighty power which drives you to take thousands of steps under the stinging sun.

Our generation was changing the world. We were making history. T-shirts, posters, and chants advertising the reasons to support the DREAM Act. Hands aching as they lifted heavy posters into the air declaring our power to the world. Yes, we were going to change the world, or at least, America.

As I walked through the city I couldn’t help but notice the tremendous amount of people who were fighting for the same thing. It seemed ridiculous how a law kept us all under the same shadow. At the same time, it felt liberating that we were finally coming into the light, that we were finally being noticed. The resilient sun represented our souls. It did not stop shining despite the reproaches against its cancerous rays.

August 1, 2001 was the date when thousands of undocumented students all over the world began to gain hope for their future. After nine years of constant rejection we kept fighting. We, is not only the Latinos –the ones you think of when you hear “illegal immigrants”- but we, is also the tons people who come from other countries in search of the same dream.

So why is it that the majority of these people standing next to me were descendants of the same race? Why did I not see diversity? Because L.A. was our city.

“Everything that is done in the world is done by hope” – Martin Luther King.

And so I kept marching with the hope that one day I would beat the odds and become the woman I dreamt about at night as I would rest my head on my pillow. My hope, joined with many others, got me to where I am today. The everlasting hope brought me the happiness that I strongly desired.

As I sit here reminiscing on my past world I can see the differences between a world of fear and a world of light. In those almost dark days of my adolescence there were limits, disturbing consequences, and fear of mistakes. I am no longer in those days.

December 2010 became the best month in my life.

We won.

As I sit here, a United States citizen, reminiscing on my past world, I give thanks to the millions of people who participated in this great dream; to the people who sat on street pavements for hours; to the people whose voice was lost in the wind trying to reach the ear of the world.

To the people who changed my life.