Host - Larry Rosen
Larry: [00:00:02] Welcome to The Moth Podcast. I'm Larry Rosen, Master Instructor of The Moth. And your host for this Independence Day episode.
The term the American dream is often attributed to author and historian James Truslow Adams. Adams spoke of a nation in which every person can first attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable. And second, be recognized by others for what they are. In this episode, we hear from someone who worked to achieve both of those aims.
Juan Rodriguez told this story at The Moth Mainstage in 2015, where theme of the night was, Don't look back stories from the teenage years. Here's Juan live, at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Juan: [00:01:00] Sitting outside this house in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico, I was feeling tired, I was sweaty, but most of anything, I was really hungry. I've been on a bus for 18 hours, but I was there. I was excited. If he blocks down is the USA, the land of plenty, the land of dreams that I hear so much about.
So, my dad came out of the house, still talking to this lady. I didn't know what they were talking about. I was only 15 years old. My dad comes to me and says, “We have a deal. She's going to bring you across the border for $50.” I said, great, let's do it. That's what we're here for. So, he said, “Give me more instructions.” She said, “Just get on the truck and don't say anything.” So, I did. Got on the lady's truck. Sit down. We drove up to the bridge. Thirty minutes later, I reunited my family and I had my first hamburger at McDonald's [audience laughter] in the other side of the border, Laredo, Texas.
So, summer was over. I went to high school. I remember that day, like, if it was yesterday. My first day walking in high school, walking on the hallways, I was living the dream, feeling all cool. It was like being on all those movies that I love so much, like Teen Wolf and Pretty in Pink. [audience laughter] I wanted to be her boyfriend, but no. [audience cheers and applause]
All these movies made me dream the American dream. And being there, I thought, okay, this is it. I'm here. I made it. After this, everything is going to be easy. So, I wanted to play basketball, because I love basketball. Back in Mexico, I used to play basketball all the time. Just playing it made me forget about being hungry, about being depressed. So, I got a little good at it.
In high school, I wanted to try out. I went to the coach and told him that, I think I'm pretty good. I don't know what you think. He said, “Yeah, you can try it out. I just need a physical from you.” I said, okay, I don't see a problem. I went to my dad. I asked him, dad, I want to play basketball. He said, “No, you can't, because you're illegal. You don't have Medicaid.” I said, but dad, it's the physical is only like $25. But he still said no. So, I forgot about basketball, because that wasn't going to happen.
Next in line, it was art. I've always been good at art, just drawing stuff, but I couldn't fit in. It was getting really hard to fit in. They have a little art club which I tried to get in, but I couldn't because my English wasn't good. And so, I said, okay, that's fine. At that moment, I started to feel like these words, not having this green card was going to define who I am, who I was at that moment. So, I got a little scared, but I said, okay, it's going to take a little work. It's going to take-- but we'll be fine.
So, one time I got into a fight with this guy, because he called me a wetback and made fun of my accent. I was really upset that day. So, later that day, it was a Tuesday, I remember pretty well, I stayed after school with Mrs. Cordero, which she's beautiful. So, it was really easy to stay after school. [audience laughter] So, there I am sitting on Mrs. Cordera's class. She asked me, “What's wrong, Juan? You look tense, you look tired, you look sad. What's going on?” I explained the situation to her, what just happened earlier. And she said, “Oh, don't worry about those kind of people. To those kind of people, the worst wetback is the educated wetback. You just got to focus on your education, because that's the key. That's what's going to take you places.” So, I said, okay, let's get to work. We started practicing my ABCs, my vowels. It was hard work after that.
Years and years, I mean, four years, not years and years. But four years, [audience laughter] sleepless nights with my Spanish-English dictionary, translating the most simple of assignments, but I made it. I made it to graduation night. But let me tell you about graduation night. It was magical. It was like having these lights upon me when they say, “Juan Rodriguez.” I felt like I won an Emmy. Just walking all cool, feeling like, “This is it. I'm living the dream. I'm a big accomplishment.” This is it. That night was magical. I couldn't get enough of it.
The night came to an end and then I got slapped in the face. Slapped in the face by reality, reality that I couldn't go to college. And later that year, I was accepted to Chicago Art Institute, because I was such a good student and I was good at art. But that night that was so magical ended up really sad for me. So, college didn't happen. I said, no problem, let's move on.
My next option was Denver, Colorado. I went to Denver. A friend of mine had a job for me, a job that would pay me $7 an hour, which is not much. But when you come from nothing, that was a lot to me. That was amazing. So, I worked at this packaging factory with a lot of people, a lot of Asian people, Mexican people that didn't speak any English. I raced to the top real quick, I became supervising manager, but something was missing, something wasn't right. I spent four years of my life working so hard. I think I can do a little better than this.
So, one afternoon, sitting on my apartment balcony, I was reading this newspaper thinking if I want something better, I better go out there and look for it. It's not going to come and knock on my door. So, I was reading to the newspaper. While I was reading through it, I saw this ad. It said, we need machine operators to operate this high-tech machinery to make airbag inflators. That sounded good to me. I like robots, I like technology, so it was awesome. And right at the bottom it said, high-school diploma preferred.
So, that spoke to me. I could hear Mrs. Cordero's voice on the back saying, “This is what we've been working for. This is you. This is your opportunity.” I remember all the cards that they gave me on graduation night saying what a great student I was, and some of them even gave me money. So, I said, okay, this feels good. I got to give it a try. I got to give it a try. I called the guy. He answered the phone. First thing he said, “Do you have a high-school diploma?” I said, well, yes, I do. “Okay, you have a job. Come and see me tomorrow.” [audience laughter] I said, good.
I had mentioned it to my dad and he said, “No, you can’t. You shouldn't do this.” I said, why not? He said, “Because you're illegal. He's going to check your green card, your fake green card and he's going to say that it's fake and you might even get deported.” At that moment, just struck pain on my heart again. I felt like, “Is this who I am? Not having this green card, these words, wetback, illegal. That’s what defines me? That's what defines who I am?” I said, I don't know. I just sit down, helpless on my couch.
I took a moment and I saw a picture on my coffee table, imaginary coffee table. I picture my high-school diploma and my fake green card. I try to balance it with which one's got more power, which one defines me more. And then, when I looked at my high-school diploma, once again, Mrs. Cordero was talking on my ear, [audience laughter] saying, “Juan, this is it. This is you. That diploma is you, because you worked so hard for it, because you want to be this person.” But also have fear on my other side, my dad telling me, “No, you can’t.” I have nothing against my dad. I love my dad. Maybe he was just being protective, because the danger is real. It was real. I could have got deported. But at the same time, I feel like by protecting me too much, he was holding me down. Just let me do this.
Next day, I didn't go to the interview. I didn't call the guy. I was just depressed. Working on my packaging factory again, trying to speak Vietnamese with some guys. [audience laughter] But something wasn't right. I had this thing on my heart that I couldn't let go of. [unintelligible [00:10:43], I called the guy. He said, “Why are you lying to me?” I said, what do you mean? He said, “Yeah, you lied to me about your high-school diploma.” I said, no, I have my high-school diploma. “Well, then come and see me.” At that moment, I made a decision. I went and did my own decision, tried to define who I am and not let this green card define who I am.
So, I didn't say anything to nobody. I just run down the street. Down the stairs, grabbed the keys to my car and went off. I walked into the office feeling nervous, because I knew I had a fake green card on me and my high-school diploma that was like a shield. And the guy is like, “Nice to meet you.” I was like, “Yeah, nice to meet you.” “Do you have a high-school diploma?” I said, “Yes, I do.” I show it to him, real proud, because I was proud of who I am. And he said, “Do you have a green card, or are you a citizen or something?” I said, I do have a green card, sort of nervous. I do have a green card. He said, “Okay.” He just grabbed it, didn't even looked at it, gave it to his secretary and said, “Here, make a copy of this. Come, Juan, tell me more about you. What kind of books do you like to read? How was high-school for you?”
That moment, I feel so good. I feel like I've accomplished something once more, but I still had this little pain on my heart knowing that something wasn't right. Here I am. I've been living illegally in this country for 22 years. If you run into me on the street, you will never guess I'm illegal. Why? Because I'm a normal person. I'm a parent. I have three kids, two girls, one boy. I have a job. I pay taxes, just like everybody else pays taxes, right?
So, it's been hard being defined by that by not having my green card, those words, illegal, immigrant, feeling like you don't deserve what you have. But I'm tired of living in fear. I'm tired of being afraid. I guess standing here today, tonight is to prove to myself that I'm not afraid anymore.
[cheers and applause]
Larry: [00:13:27] That was Juan Rodriguez. Juan was born in Zacatecas, Mexico. In 1992, he came across river to Laredo, Texas. After graduating high school, Juan moved to Colorado, and there in 2018 started a plumbing business. In April 2021, Juan became a legal resident of the United States. He lives happily in Denver with his three kids, Natalia, Anastasia and Alan.
We first came across Juan on Radio Diaries. Radio Diaries is an incredible organization that works with people by giving them recording equipment, and helping them record and share their own stories. You should check out Radio Diaries wherever you get your podcasts.
To close the episode, we'll leave you with these words from the architect and designer, Maya Lin. Maya Lin said, “To me, the American dream is being able to follow your own personal calling, to be able to do what you want to do is incredible freedom.” For everyone here at The Moth, we wish you a happy fourth.
Marc: [00:14:38] Larry Rosen is a Master Instructor at The Moth. After 25 years teaching, directing and practicing theater and comedy performance, Larry discovered the simplicity, power and beauty of true stories. Shortly thereafter, he found The Moth. As they say, “Timing is everything.” Juan Rodriguez's story was directed by Catherine McCarthy.
This episode of The Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Jenness, Sarah Jane Johnson and me Marc Sollinger. The rest of The Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Jenifer Hixson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Klutse, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Lee Ann Gullie and Aldi Kaza. All Moth stories are true, as remembered by the storytellers.
For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.