Jesus Narvaez: "Daca-Mented"
By Emma Wilcox
“The second time we got caught crossing the border they gave me graham crackers and apple juice in the detention center and they’re still my favorite” Jesus Narvaez laughed maintaining his humor as he remembered that challenging part of his life. He and his mother illegally crossed the border in the year 2000 when Jesus was just eight years old. He has been one of the 11,300 young people in Oregon currently protected under DACA status since 2015. Today, at age 26, Jesus is standing up with other undocumented youth from across the nation whose mission is to protect their human rights and incite a change.
Jesus was born in the capital city of Tepic in Nayarit, Mexico in 1992. He refers to his hometown of Tepic as a “rancho” because of its village-like community atmosphere. He still remembers the morning that his mother woke him up, bags in hand, telling him they were leaving for the United States: “I was half asleep, it all just happened kind of quickly.” They made the two-day journey by van to Mexicali where they planned to cross. He and his mother, accompanied by coyotes, individuals who are paid in exchange for their help to illegally enter the United States, were caught twice before successfully crossing over into the U.S. on their third try. “I remember getting up on a tree and the coyote just let me go from the top of the border fence and someone at the bottom would catch me,” Jesus grinned. He said that he thinks the modern sentiment of “building the wall” seems ironically medieval, “I mean… you can just build a ladder or dig a hole.”
His mother injured her ankle when she was dropped from the top of the fence on their third attempt crossing and was struggling through the three-hour walk that followed. When an immigration officer spotted them, the coyote told them it was too late and that they’d once again have to be detained. His mother was not going to give up that easily, “She grabbed my hand, she grabbed his hand, and we ran. She had the courage,” Jesus said.
In total, it took them about a month to meet his father in Los Angeles where they’d pay off the coyotes who’d helped them cross and begin their new life. His father had been living in L.A. for about two years saving money to finance their family’s opportunity to live in the states. Once they were reunited the family moved to Merced, California where they’d live for the next seven years. “It wasn’t too bad because the whole apartment complex was all Latino, we had a little gazebo in the middle where we had parties, it felt like every weekend it was somebody’s birthday. We became a community and a family.”
As Jesus entered his high school years the presence of gang violence in the area became more apparent, “I saw kids get shot at thirteen” he said. Fearful that Jesus would get caught up in the gang culture, his parents made the decision to move to Eugene, Oregon after his freshman year of high school.
“Coming to Oregon was a shock,” he recalls the contrasting demographics and how attending South Eugene High, a primarily caucasian school, was intimidating at first. “I felt so out of place.” But it was at South that Jesus found his voice and passion for activism work. Jesus grew up constantly reminded by his mother that he had to be warier of his actions than other kids because of his status, so when he got involved in a fight at school that ended with his getting arrested his first response was to speak with the assistant principal that he’d become close to, “I asked if it mattered that I didn’t have papers and he just said, ‘Oh, we can’t talk about that.’ and I feel like the norm was that they just don’t want to know.” One of the school’s counselors, Tibor Besskó, opened up the conversation with Jesus and provided his support and discretion. Besskó had been to Jesus’s home rancho of Tepic on vacation in the past, “it was just having that connection” Jesus said, that made it easier for him to come forward about his undocumented status openly for the first time.
By his senior year, Jesus had become involved with a local youth group, Juventud FACETA. “Being involved with FACETA taught me a lot of things and helped me not be afraid to be undocumented. It’s what really helped me feel strong about it.” The group provides leadership training and volunteer opportunities for youth ages 14-24 years old and focuses on human and immigrant rights. In order to graduate as a community leader, FACETA requires its members to obtain over 500 hours of service and training. Jesus has now been involved with the group for over eight years.
After more than fifteen years of living with no protection as an undocumented minor in this country, Jesus decided to apply to become “daca-mented” in 2015. After passing background checks, paying fees, and getting his work permit he was awarded his DACA status and finally felt a sense of security. Since then, he was able to visit his home rancho in Mexico for the first time under the Advanced Parole Program in 2016. Approval for the program requires humanitarian travel reasons, documented proof that a family member is seriously ill or has passed away. Two years ago there was approval available for educational purposes but that has since been revoked. Because Jesus’s grandfather was diagnosed with cancer he was able to go back and visit within a specific window of time and after paying about $1,000 in fees. “I remember walking off the plane and it felt like a movie when everything around you is blurry except what’s right in front of you, it felt like a dream.” Jesus felt as though this experience highlighted how he and so many other Dreamers across the nation feel, that the U.S. is the only home that they know.
Since returning from his trip to Tepic Jesus has committed himself to his education and activism work. Over the last three months, Jesus has flown to Washington D.C. twice to advocate for the Dream Act and fight for immigrant rights. He attended the State of the Union Address as Congressman Peter DeFazio’s guest, sitting quietly as he was surrounded by people on their feet vocally supporting what he’s devoted so much of his life to prevent.
“With DACA… these people are your neighbors and your friends, people that sit in your classrooms and you see in the store, these are human beings and that’s what we need to realize. Yeah we’re DACA recipients, but we’re also human beings contributing to this country. We are here too.”
