By Arianna Acevedo-Ithier
On the morning of November 12, 2019, the front of the Supreme Court of the United States was covered by las mariposas monarcas. Traveling from near and far, the monarchs rested on signs, shirts, cardboard cutouts, hats, and more. Some came from right there in D.C. and others marched 230 miles from New York City or flew from California.
Every year, millions of monarch butterflies, danaus plexippus, migrate to Mexico from the United States for the winter and make their way back north for the summer. This trip spans three thousand miles over the course of two months both ways, bearing the harsh weather conditions for their survival.
Our monarchs, drawn on posters with the words, “DREAMS ARE NOT ILLEGAL” and printed on white shirts, boarded a bus from the University of Pennsylvania at 6 am. Fifty-six graduate students, undergrads, and faculty spent the morning passing food, pretending to do work, and mostly sleeping until our arrival in Washington, D.C. at 10 am.
We were greeted by bitter cold, slight rainfall, grey skies, and a sea of kind faces. Despite the below freezing temperature, hundreds of people filled both sides of the sidewalk and unblocked streets. Attendees spanned across different ages, ethnicities, genders, and species. While the crowd shouted in protest, shaking dogs barked alongside them. Grandparents and parents pushed young children in strollers, yellow “HOME IS HERE” shirts covering the young ones’ laps. While listening to the stories from the speakers, eyes welled with tears, though whether they originated from empathy or the cold is unclear.
“EVERYWHERE WE GO, PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, WHO WE ARE, SO WE TELL THEM: WE ARE THE IMMIGRANTS, THE MIGHTY MIGHTY IMMIGRANTS, FIGHTING FOR JUSTICE AND OUR LIBERATION.”
Inside of the Supreme Court, these stories didn’t matter.
They didn’t care if Vicente Esteban Rodriguez, a first-generation scholar and educator with DACA, believes “[his] padres are the real DREAMERS here.”
They didn’t care if Miriam, a grandmother from Honduras, would lose everything, including her grandchildren, if DACA and TPS cease to exist after these hearings.
They didn’t care about any of the lives they were affecting or the people there demanding their attention, and if they did, it couldn’t matter.
These hearings that would affect the future of millions of Americans and alter their lives forever had nothing to do with these people and their stories. What brought us all there that day, chanting and waving our flags, was a mistake made by the Trump Administration.
The majority of cases that make it to the Supreme Court specifically concern legality, which falls within a slim margin here. When Trump decided to wind-down DACA (the Deferred Action of Childhood Arrivals program) he failed to provide an adequate explanation as to why. While making a more explanatory revision stating reason for DACA’s supposed illegality would be a quick fix for the Administration, the multiple cases against it have made it to the Supreme Court, raising the stakes for everyone.
There are three possible results from these hearings; the DACA program can be deemed legal and continue as a temporary means of stay in the United States for immigrants; the Trump Administration may continue to wind-down DACA as is, but the next president may do as they please in reviving DACA or creating programs like it; DACA is deemed illegal and can never be revived by any future sitting president, nor may it be replaced by a program like it.
As the NAACP, University of California, and Martin Jonathan Batalla Vidal fought for DACA through this very narrow legal loophole, we stood under umbrellas in the cold and rain, which briefly became hail, pleading for them to hear us.
“NI LA LLUVIA NI EL VIENTO DETIENE EL MOVIMIENTO.” (Neither the rain nor the wind detains the movement.)
On my quest chasing after the butterfly wings crossing the street, I noticed 71 year-old Kim Fellner. The lone older white woman in the middle of the street holding her poster in gloved hands smiled when she saw me see her. Her poster, decorated with a black and white photo of a couple with “Immigration saved my parents,” written across the top caught my eye.
“I support DACA because my parents were saved by immigration…for me, this is very personal,” she said.
Fellner’s parents, Jewish immigrants from Nazi Germany and Austria, escaped a similar fate met by many of the Central American immigrants in the United States today. Her presence at the DACA march spoke the words that ring through the Jewish community more and more loudly these days, “NEVER AGAIN.”
Randy Weingarten, president of the American Federation of Teachers, took the podium. “When I look around the Supreme Court right now, I see America,” she said. If the Trump administration succeeded, then that would be a very different image.
I snaked through the crowd, clutching the poster I had made days before specifically for this event, until I made it to the United Methodist Building on the corner next to the Supreme Court. Snacks and waters sat outside of the main entrance, welcoming ralliers with their sign quoting Hamilton, “IMMIGRANTS WE GET THE JOB DONE.” Inside, we were invited to take a break and defrost. “This weather is anti-immigrant,” said Kareli Lizaraga, UPenn’s Associate Director of La Casa Latina.
The Supreme Court was unsurprisingly less inviting.
After the rally turned into a march, with Senator Bernie Sanders joined by DACA recipients, our UPenn group attempted to refuel in the Supreme Court cafeteria but were turned away for our shirts and signs. Unwilling to hide our protest, we looked for a place more welcoming, and landed at Henan Dynasty, where the restaurant owner seated us immediately and offered us sopa de huevo instead of egg-drop soup. “I support you. You live in this country, can speak the language, work and they still try to kick you out…this government sucks!” he exclaimed to our delight. My monarch hid safely under the table.
After filling up on our sopa de huevo, we shuffled to the Library of Congress, signing letters that explained our stance on DACA to our congressional representatives. From there, we divided and conquered. My group and I navigated our way to the Rayburn House Office Building with our posters and buttons stuffed into bags and pockets to avoid destruction or confiscation. Past the metal detectors, security, and nicely dressed professionals, my sneakers squeaked all of the way to Congresswoman Gwen Moore’s office. Her staff didn’t seem too impressed by my presence until I announced my Milwaukee, Wisconsin origin.
In the halls, I was pleasantly surprised by all of the different faces with the same determination to make a difference for DACA. It’s one thing to be heard, and another to be seen.
No one feels certain about the fate of DACA, but there is still hope, at least among the Penn undergraduate students who attended the event.
After the day’s events, junior Victoria Gonzales-Saldana says, “DACA is an important part of my life…and I feel better, inspired and happy to support immigrants. I don’t know if [the fate of DACA] will change, but it’ll change actions.”
As an immigrant himself, pre-law sophomore Abraham Sandoval Iniquez took the time to reflect on his experience with advocacy for DACA. “[This event] was empowering and it’s so easy to get lost in Penn’s culture. Seeing this grounds you and reminds you of the challenges that immigrants face. I came undocumented from Mexico and got my residency, but the importance of advocacy is forgotten. Being here sparked that in me again. The loss of DACA reminded the immigrant community of the importance of it.”
Sophomore, Jazmin Estevez-Rosas, was touched by the event as the daughter of a Mexican immigrant. “I was very emotional in the beginning just because this is something that effects so many people in our families, so many people in my family, so many people that I love and it felt very real. But at the same time it was nice to know that there were so many people that were there to support each other and really feel the energy of all of us at our most vulnerable but at our most united. Immigrants have been here for as long as the United States has existed and we’re not going to leave.”
My monarch poster stayed folded on the way home, a little damaged, neglected, and beaten by the weather, but at least it made it for the journey back.