Advanced Immigration 2025

By Maggie Albrecht

The deadline for the study-abroad applications was today. Maricela wasn’t at school. “Oh well,” she thought. “I guess I missed it.” But 6 months later, Maricela received an acceptance letter. She was to spend her next year of college studying in North Carolina. Knowing that Maricela had wanted to apply, her best friend filled out the application on her behalf. This is the beginning of Maricela’s immigration journey. 

Sakiko first stepped foot on American soil at the age of 19. She would return a few years later for an English immersion program at UCSB. Finally, after coming home to her family in Japan, declaring her intentions to live in the United States and subsequently being disowned by her parents, she bought a one-way ticket to the US. This is the beginning of Sakiko’s immigration journey.

Tomas remembers vacationing to Florida on long weekends and summer vacations throughout high school and college. His dad figured out all of the paperwork. He never intended to leave his home nation of Peru for longer than a few weeks. But his future wife had other plans. This is the beginning of Tomas’ immigration journey. Neither Maricela, Sakiko, or Tomas had their futures planned out when they first arrived in the United States.

The immigration process has always been told through a series of numbers, such as the 47.8 million foreign-born people living in the United States, which accounts for 14.3% of the nation’s population. Almost one-quarter of immigrants are from Mexico, and another quarter are from Asia. 77% of immigrants are in the country legally. Over half of immigrants live in California, Texas, Florida, and New York. Ultimately, however, these numbers do not capture the realities of immigrants’ lived experiences. Maricela, Sakiko, and Tomas’ journeys give us valuable insight. 

Sponsored by her college in Spain, Maricela studied in North Carolina in 2007. After her year abroad concluded, she returned to Spain to finish her college education and eventually married her American boyfriend. They lived in Spain together for a year before moving to the United States in 2012. Because she was married to an American, Maricela was granted green card status. She renewed her green card two years later and, in 2018, began the process of gaining citizenship, which was granted to her in 2020. Similarly, Sakiko attained green card status in 1992 by marrying an American she met during her yearlong study program at UCSB. After leaving her family in Japan, she arrived in the US under a travel visa, which lasted three months, but she married before the visa expired. Sakiko remained a green card holder for almost 30 years before applying for US citizenship. Maricela maintains Spanish and American citizenship, but Japan does not allow for dual citizenship, so Sakiko had to forgo her Japanese citizenship when she decided to make the switch in 2019. 

Maricela and Sakiko both gained their green cards by marrying US citizens. However, they describe their relationships with their home countries and immigration processes differently. Maricela views the two aspects of her identity as separate: her Spanish world and her American world, each filled with different people and customs. When she is in Spain, she doesn’t try to mimic her American life, and vice versa. On the other hand, Sakiko still feels conflicted about her choice to gain American citizenship. She experiences her immigration as a straddling of two nations, never fully belonging to either. Her family remains in Japan, which she visits twice yearly, but she has now spent more years living in the US. Sakiko sees herself as a cultural liaison for students and feels that she has created her own unique culture, one that is both Japanese and American. Maricela and Sakiko visit their home countries multiple times throughout the year, which their jobs as teachers allow them to do.

Unlike Maricela’s and Sakiko’s husbands, Tomas’ wife is not American, and thus, his immigration story is a little different. Tomas married his wife, Natasha, in 1994 in Peru. In 1996, she temporarily moved to the US to attend UCSC, and then once again, in 1998, to work and study in Baltimore. Tomas would visit her under travel visas, but moved more permanently in 2001 as part of being married to a lawful resident. Under his visa, Tomas was permitted to travel and study, but not permitted to work. Therefore, receiving his green card was a priority, which the two of them did only a year or two later. In 2010, Tomas and Natasha became dual citizens of the US and Peru. Tomas described to me how his wife was the driving force behind their immigration. Despite having a privileged life in Peru, he would follow his wife wherever she went. 

It is fundamental for non-foreign Americans to listen to stories like those of Maricela, Sakiko, and Tomas because they exemplify how nonuniform and nonlinear immigration journeys truly are. Each became lawful permanent residents through family-based immigration, as did 58% of new lawful permanent residents in 2022. Oral histories give us an inside look into a controversial issue that is felt personally by millions of Americans. Their stories could be diluted down to the word “immigrant,” but to choose to do so is to ignore the diversity of immigrants. Maricela might never have become an American citizen had her friend not registered her for the exchange program, just as Tomas might not have had his wife not felt so drawn to the US. Sakiko knew from early adulthood that she wanted to leave Japan to escape her traditional parents and a culture that offered limited opportunities to women. They each came to America in pursuit of love but have gone on to become educators who introduce their cultures and languages to students. They complicate the image of what an immigrant is. They exemplify the humanity of immigrants, which is too often forgotten.