H-4 by Sharon

H-4 by Sharon - February 2024 Scholarship Essay

Twelve years ago, H-4 moved into our home. From the day she arrived, she was giving out orders. She was a diva who wanted everything done at a certain time, place, and manner. Slowly but surely, she elbowed her way into our family conversations, hijacking our dinner table, which was now filled with her paperwork. My parents would rather do the mounds of paperwork chasing them than attend my school concerts. Hearing my parents talk about the H-4 process made knots in my stomach; the feeling of being overwhelmed and frustrated was suffocating.

We could get sent back anytime if the i’s weren’t dotted and the t’s weren’t crossed. H-4 made life challenging. It prevented my dad from pursuing work in which he was well qualified, dashed my hopes of finding employment, and cast a shadow over my dreams of attending university. We had nothing to our names: no house, no car, no savings. We came to America to build a new life, but how do you start a life when they won’t even let you take your clothes out of your suitcase? weren’t crossed.

She was draining us, not only financially but, more significantly, mentally. “Money comes and goes,” my father would say with $50 in my parents' combined bank account. I could deal with food not being on the table sometimes and my parents' lack of interest in my life. What I couldn't deal with was the fear and uncertainty she brought with her. Even if we did everything right, she could still send us back. I could work harder than anyone else, but it wouldn't matter if she had the power to remove us. I hated the power she held over my family, but in the eyes of the government, we were just another case number.

It didn't help that people would look at me in dismay when they found out I wasn’t a citizen. After all, that’s what we were taught in middle school civics. The day Ms. Wilson taught the “steps to citizenship” class, I returned home, frustration bubbling within me. I asked my parents, Why couldn't we secure a place in this country we call home? We checked all the boxes taught in class, didn’t we? My dad's solemn expression spoke volumes as he explained that we weren't the type of immigrants neatly summarized in public school textbooks. Our checkboxes were much larger than everyone else's.

It was at that moment that I knew something had to change.

H-4 was the puppeteer, pulling strings and dictating our every move. When these strings were finally cut in September 2021, I thought I was free, but I could still feel the strings. Not on me, but on those who were still stuck in her sick puppet show. I realized that not only did I not want to be controlled by this system, I wanted to change it for thousands of others like me.

My family’s story is not unique; countless families across the United States face similar struggles due to the extensive H1-B visa process.

My whole childhood was affected by the H-4 process, but now I have my whole adulthood to change the process. Though I could not do much as a high school student, I did what I could, from debating classmates who clearly had no interest in the subject to scholars at nationwide conferences. I had one purpose in my life. When I become Sharon Sanju, J.D., I can change this process from the inside out. I will major in political science and then go to law school, get my degree, pass the BAR, and become an immigration attorney. It is a long journey, but I know it will all be worth it when I am able to help my people. A fire can’t start without a spark; I believe I am the spark.