I remember falling asleep inside my uncle's car in Michoacán only to wake up in Boyle Heights hours later. Up until then, my mom, two younger sisters and I were living at my great grandma's ranch. All I remember from the few months we spent there was running all over the place, catching chickens for the occasional molé and swimming in a stream as my mom washed clothes on rocks further up. Staying with family was the best recourse my parents could have taken as we prepared to immigrate to the...