Arrival Stories Arts & Culture DREAMer's Blog Meet a DREAMer

Arrival Stories: Uriel Rivera

Uriel in Mexico

Uriel Rivera is a student at UC Berkley, originally from Acapulco Guerrero, Mexico. He’s a student activist with Dream Team LA, The CA Dream Network and Dream Summer intern at the National Day Labor Organization Network. This is his arrival story.  

My arrival story is a little different from many of the immigrant youth involved in the Dream Act movement. I arrived in this country in the summer of 2006, from Acapulco, Guerrero in Mexico. I left Mexico to reunite with my family here in the US due to the increased amount of violence that was taking place in Acapulco, which has now become one of the most violent places in the western hemisphere.

Arrival Stories DREAMer's Blog Meet a DREAMer

Arrival Stories: Will Prada

Will Prada is a member of Dream Team LA, a UCLA graduate and loving brother and son. He is originally from the district of Chorrillos in the city of Lima in Peru. This is his arrival story. 

Era el año 1994, mi madre estaba desesperada que pasara otro año mas sin que pudíeramos reunirnos con mi padre. Aunque yo era un niño inquieto, jugueton y con buenas notas, a ella le preocupaba el que yo creciera sin padre. El había emigrado a los Estados Unidos cuatro años antes. Hizo lo imposible para poder mandar por nosotros, tuvo que trabajar tres trabajos por mucho tiempo y pedir prestamos a sus amigos. El camino no iba ser facil, nos habían rechazado la visa y la única opcion era venir por tierra escalando. Fue asi como cambia mi vida 180 grados y emigro con mi mamá a los Estados Unidos.

Arrival Stories Arts & Culture DREAMer's Blog Meet a DREAMer

Arrival Stories: Javiera Infante

Javiera at 3 years old

Javiera Infante is a member of the San Fernando Valley Dream Team and originally from Santiago Chile. This is her arrival story. 

When I landed in Los Angeles the weather was gloomy — a drastic change from the summery day I left Chile in March of 2000. I got off the plane with my mom and younger sister, passed through customs with no trouble, and met my aunt and her husband as we made our way out of the Los Angeles International Airport. We got in the car and I quietly observed, stunned at the the cleanliness of it all. The wide streets, the impeccable structure of the freeways, the tall buildings, the new cars everywhere. We were on our way to live with our family in a place called the “San Fernando Valley.”