My parents came here from Colombia during a time of great instability there. Escaping a dire economic situation at home, they moved to New Jersey, where they had friends and family, seeking a better life, and then moved to Boston after I was born.
Love yourself no matter who you are or where you come from.
It is a huge myth that our voices don't matter, that our vote doesn't count.
If we value children and family, there's a great need for change, and we should try immigration reform - create a path for citizenship for people already here, update the visa system.
I am here, a citizen of this country, and I'm saying, 'Hey, the system failed me. I am a good citizen. I contribute to this country, and here I am sharing my story. What are you going to do now?'
It's disheartening to see the hate speech and the divisive behavior. But at the same time, I have to believe that smart people and good people of this country don't give in to that.
As a kid, I felt like I had no voice, felt like I had no options, and that's what drove me to this really dark place.
This is the kind of stuff me and my friends talk about. We sit around and drink coffee, and we're really angry: We're like, 'Where's the Latino Museum?' Where can we go with our families, where can we go with our friends to learn about our history?
Crazy Jane is a complex individual who always has a lot brewing. She tries to hold things together on the surface, which is something that we all try to do. She uses these different personalities to try to cope with life.
It's sometimes a little embarrassing to take selfies, but sometimes I want to take a selfie because I'm like, 'Oh I look cute. I like my hat. I like what I'm wearing, and I want to show it off.'
Whatever the reason is, I am happiest when connecting with the human experience. It lets me know that I'm not alone in this world.
I am conscious of the community that I'm representing and don't play into stereotypes.
While awaiting deportation proceedings, my parents remained in detention near Boston, so I could visit them. They would have liked to fight deportation, but without a lawyer and an immigration system that rarely gives judges the discretion to allow families to stay together, they never had a chance.
Growing up without my parents by my side is a weight I still carry today.
I feel like you can't really be truthful as an artist and empathize with the human experience unless you know your truth, and you're not living a lie.
I so desperately wanted to fit in. There was a trajectory, and obviously, our society tells us that you go to high school, you graduate, and then you go to college, and from there, you get an internship, you get a job, and some people study abroad, and there are so many things you see that you desperately want to be a part of.
I want to live in a country where we believe in helping each other, where we see where resources are lacking.
My parents were desperately trying to become documented citizens of this country and tried very hard to get there, but to no avail.
My real story is this: I am the citizen daughter of immigrant parents who were deported when I was 14. My older brother was also deported.
Sometimes I want to bury myself in bed, and I don't want anyone to know anything about me, and I don't want anyone to judge me.
