My foot is the foot that crushed the grapes that made your wine. I am the woman who cleaned your hotel room. I am the man who mowed the grass you walk on. I am the student who sits next to you in class. I am a ghost.

I became nobody when my parents decided to step foot in the United States when I was only nine months old. At nine months I became an undocumented immigrant, deprived of a nine-digit social security number that would come to haunt my family as our time as criminals in this country ticked on.

One of my earliest memories was of my dad almost getting deported. We had just moved one door down when immigration officials came next door looking for my father at our old apartment. My brother and I hid in the closet of our home as they looked for my dad throughout our apartment complex based on a tip they had received from one of his coworkers. I remember being terrified and seeing my father turn pale white as we prayed that these people did not knock on our door.

My “illegal” status has come back to haunt me at different parts of my life. Not having medical insurance was hard because I was often very sick with severe asthma as a kid. Without a social security number, I can’t get a California driver’s license. Every time I hop in my car for school I face the risk of being pulled over by a cop, losing my car, and possibly being deported and separated from my family. Most importantly, it has become very hard to pay for every dime that my college career requires without financial aid. Now that I am about to transfer to a university to pursue journalism I worry about how I will be able to pay for school.

I account for one of the 65,000 undocumented immigrants who graduate from high school each year. Without citizenship none of us exist in this country. We are qualified students, some at the top of our class who have been deprived the right of pursuing our happiness and to fully bloom into the professionals we desire to be. There currently is no path to citizenship. We have the option of being adopted by an American citizen prior to turning 18, or marrying into citizenship. Neither of these options are guaranteed nor desired by the students of this great nation. With the Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors act being blocked, Sept. 21, the dreams of many undocumented immigrants have once again been ignored.

We will not be ignored any longer. As immigrants it is time for all of us to unite and fight against the laws that oppress us. The time to take action and show the politicians and voters who ignore us that we are overqualified citizens of the world is past due.

Whether you are Republican, Democrat, or anything in between, you can’t ignore the fact that this is a human rights issue. We are being reprimanded for the actions of our parents who brought us here hoping we would grow up to be honest, professional people. We live in a time when there is much famine in the world. Without the privileges of citizens, thousands of students don’t have the ability to cure this world and make it whole.

It is time for a shift in consciousness. The time has come for the United States to accept the fact that undocumented immigrants are here to stay. In each ghost there lies a past, perhaps filled with political violence, hunger and a struggle to survive in their homeland. However, no law can ever stop us from dreaming of a better future, just as nothing can sever the long lineage of culture we all have encrypted in our blood. As humans, we all have divinity flowing through our veins, pumping love into our passions, urging us to fully express ourselves. Our lifetimes must leave a footprint of peace for future generations to follow.

We are the future journalists, politicians, scientists, and curers of disease. We are all human and we are all one. With our diverse ethnicities we decorate this world. We are home. Justicia, paz y dignidad.