She can’t come home
Marisol Soto wants to come home.
She graduated from Pea Ridge High School in 2011, and, like many of her classmates, she was a good student, was involved in the art and choir programs and played volleyball.
She dreamed of attending the University of Arkansas.
She wanted to go to college to become an ultrasound technician.
Unlike her classmates, she couldn’t get a driver’s license. Couldn’t get a job. Couldn’t get into college in America.
Why? Because she is not an American citizen.
Now, she sits in a detention center in San Diego, depressed and losing weight.
Raised an American
“I was raised with the American customs and consider myself an American,” Marisol wrote. “My biggest wish since I can remember was to go to the U of A as soon as I graduated.”
Marisol, 20, had been in America since she was 7 years old. The elder of two daughters of Martin Soto and Andrea Caldera Vazquez, Marisol was a happy young lady. Andrea, through an interpreter, said her family came to northwest Arkansas to be near her brother who had come to America legally several years before.
“She was a good girl,” Marisol’s mother said tearfully. “She was always happy and
smiling.”
Marisol was an A student at Pea Ridge.
“I remember Marisol as a sweet and intelligent young lady who was going to achieve great things with her life,” said Crystal Marquez, one of Marisol’s high school teachers.
“Marisol was a good student,” said Rick Neal, who was principal of Pea Ridge High School when Marisol was in school. He is now the district superintendent. “Marisol was an outstanding student, leader, writer and speaker. She was active in all school events and activities.”
Now, that’s all changed.
Fateful decision
In September 2011, determined to go to college, Marisol took the route she saw as her best opportuni- ty: She returned to Mexico to live with an aunt in the State of Mexico, about an hour outside of Mexico City.
In mid 2012, President Obama and the Department of Homeland Security announced their plan for Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, a policy that mandates young people in Marisol’s situation would not be deported.
That action came a year late for Marisol.
The government began issuing the first two-year work permits under an executive order issued Aug. 15, 2012. As a result, thousands of young people began receiving things that had eluded them all these years —a Social Security number, a driver’s license and the chance at finally having a job — a legal job.
When home is not home
Instead of receiving opportunity as a full-fledged citizen of her birth country, she faced even more barriers.
She faced discrimination as an “American,” she said.
Her American style of dressing, her accent, her behaviors and beliefs — who she is — caused bullying.
Marisol’s mother explained that most people in Mexico, including her relatives, believe that all people in America are wealthy. They assume Marisol has money.
At college, Marisol said, she faced discrimination.
“I have been bullied and targeted due to my American accent and because I came from the USA,” Mari- sol wrote. She said she was almost raped twice trying to get to school and at one point her life was threatened by a girl whose boyfriend was in a drug cartel, she said.
So, Marisol tried to leave home to return to what she considers her real home — Pea Ridge.
Just like the driver’s license and college — she couldn’t do that either.
Civil disobedience
Frustrated with the situation, Marisol joined Latinos En Accion (Latinos in Action) in a demonstration known as “Bring them Home-Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas.” She and 150 other Latinos and Latinas willfully turned themselves in at a detainment facility in San Diego, Calif.
On March 9, Marisol wrote: “Right now I am in Tijuana, Mexico, with 150 other people who are going to cross the border in a pacific legal way March 10 and we will be getting detained at a California detention center tomorrow. After that they will see our cases and decide if we can go home.” Home: For her meaning Pea Ridge.
According to Marisol’s family, a judge will rule, depending on support from Marisol’s congressmen — be it a letter, phone call, email — if she can return with a legal status.
“It’s like a prison; she’s with criminals,” her younger sister, Mariana, said Monday, of the detention center.
“They let her make a phone call for a couple of minutes, but they charge her. They let her call us sometimes,” Mariana said, explaining that the weight loss is from the crisis of depression she entered and the lack of quality food.
Pea Ridge can help
Concerned for Marisol’s welfare and wanting their loved one home, Marisol’s family is soliciting letters to motivate the judge to allow her to come home.
Marisol’s case number is A#206 270 524; the National ICE number is 202-732-3000 or 202-732-3100. Marisol can receive mail at Otay Detention Center, 446 Alta Road, Suite 5400, San Diego, CA 92143. Letters must have the name and alien number.