I grew up undocumented in a red state. I now have my dream career after receiving DACA — but my childhood was full of fear.

Quiroz and his wife work at the same hospital in Texas.

My parents come from a small, poor town in Mexico. They didn’t see a future for me there and knew other people who moved to the US in search of a better life, so they decided to do the same.

We came to the US when I was three years old. We settled in Nashville because my parents had contacts there.

We were undocumented, but I didn’t know it at the time.

Growing up, my parents and I had to work very hard to earn a living, and we were always fearful of deportation. In 2013, at 22, I applied for DACA — deferred action for childhood arrivals — and was given a work authorization card, enabling me to pursue a career in nursing.

I’m grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given to work in the US, but in a society where Dreamers — a term for people protected under DACA — are used as political pawns, I think more needs to be done for others like me.

Our family hustled hard in the US

After arriving in the US, my dad got a job in construction, which involved hard labor, hot summers, and crazy winters. My mum cleaned homes and offices. Neither of them knew English, but they were very resourceful.

We started from the bottom. I remember sharing apartments with other families, sleeping on the floor, and roaches. Then, my parents scraped up enough money to get into a trailer home where I grew up.

I had a childhood with playtime but also a lot of work time. When I wasn’t in school, I helped my mum with food and cleaning.

I didn’t know we were undocumented or what that meant until my parents told me when I was around 10 years old. As I grew up, I wondered why my parents had to work so hard and noticed we always had less than other people. I didn’t understand why we always had to hide from the police.

I went to kindergarten without knowing English, so I took language classes to catch up. In our household, I was always reading the bills and letters. I also took care of my three little brothers.

My parents didn’t have Social Security numbers or credit lines, so they always paid in cash. Eventually, they did get driver’s licenses, but they were always fearful they wouldn’t be able to renew them.

We weren’t able to travel back to Mexico when some of our family members died. For a long time, we didn’t even go on trips out of Nashville because of fear of the law. We were always looking over our shoulders.

Over the years, my parents have hustled to live the American dream.

I wanted to become a nurse but struggled to get into college

Since I grew up taking care of the family, I always had a nurturing attitude, and wanted to work in medicine.

I didn’t have a Social Security number meaning I couldn’t apply for government assistance. My parents told me that if I were accepted into a college, they’d help me pay for it using their savings.

I applied to six colleges, hoping one would give me a chance, but I was either told I couldn’t be accepted because I had no documentation or that I’d have to pay international fees to attend.

I found a private Christian university that accepted me into its nursing school through a local youth program. I paid my fees monthly in cash, but there were still challenges.

It was even hard to get training experience at local hospitals because I didn’t have an ID or Social Security number they could use to run background checks on me.

I applied for DACA, which opened doors for me to work legally in the US

A year before I graduated from nursing school, President Obama announced DACA.

I remember hearing the President was going to give me the chance to work and live the American dream without fear of deportation. For a long time, I felt alone and like I didn’t have options. He opened a door for us, and I’ll forever be grateful.

I applied for deferred action in 2013. I remember getting fingerprint and background checks done as part of the process, trusting the government with my information because they said they were going to protect me. It took six to eight months from my initial meeting with a lawyer to receiving my work authorization card in the mail.

I got my nursing degree and license and moved to Houston with my wife, a US citizen, and also a nurse. We have two kids and a house on the outskirts of Houston. We both currently work at a hospital in the city.

I need to submit DACA renewals every two years, which means I can only plan my life in two-year increments.

I want to become a US citizen and hope to obtain legal status in the US through the Biden administration’s announcement that some spouses of US citizens can apply for status without leaving the country first.

The traditional process requires me to leave the country and separate from my family, which is something I never wanted to do. There’s the risk of something going wrong and not being allowed back in.

I live in a red state and want to advocate for others who haven’t received DACA

I’m one of the lucky ones who has benefited from DACA, but I know there are many others who haven’t benefited. When I became a DACA recipient, I wanted to prove Obama right and prove that Dreamers aren’t bad people.

I was invited to introduce President Joe Biden at an event in June 2024 to mark the 12th anniversary of DACA. Biden announced an executive order to help the spouses of US citizens obtain legal status. It was surreal. My wife and I met the President, who thanked us for our service as nurses. It was emotional to represent my people at the event and watch the President introduce an executive order for their benefit.

When the Trump administration tried to take DACA away, I fought hard to represent others in my community. I worked in nursing through the pandemic under the Trump administration and treated Trump supporters — I know that because I see the red hat in the corner.

I’ve only lived in red states and have friends on both sides of the political spectrum. When immigration comes up in conversation, some tell me they are OK with me but not with the people at the border. I remind them that my parents and I were once in that situation.

No matter what administration is in power, I think Dreamers are used as political pawns. We feel forgotten and only seen when elections come. These protections are a small step in the right direction, but much more needs to be done.

The US needs good people who work hard, and that’s what a lot of my people want to do. We’re here to work and contribute to the economy.