Epifanio shares his story and what it means to be a migrant, indigenous and grow up with the vicissitudes that is migration. Through autobiographical short films, we embark on the life journey of a young Mixtec boy who left his town to work in the agricultural fields, and later on, to cross the border.
The story of Silvia, who went from being a day worker to refugee. She was a young Na Savi (mixteca) girl who, after leaving her indigenous community, had to face and cross many borders and barriers related to gender, class, language, identity and race. Her story begins at 8 years old.
Cheyo, Samuel, Javier and other adolescents tell us about the journey they have to take in order to exercise their right to migrate. The construction of borders and walls that criminalize and punish their right to mobility threaten their lives, their integrity and their right to a better life.
Many children, adolescents and youth traveled unaccompanied in the migrant caravans that crossed Mexico in 2018 and 2019. For them, the caravan was a strategy for security, protection and autonomy. It also became a space of celebration and for them to make their own decisions and discover their own identity.
“The earth becomes an orphan,” say the grandmothers and auntie caregivers. They speak of the impact that migration has had on Ecuador. “The grandmothers also become orphaned,” they say to refer to the reality that their young grandchildren have left to reunite with their parents in the United States.
In Ecuador, migration is a point of departure and arrival. Life goes on for the boys and girls growing up in a context where their loved ones have decided to take the road to the North. The day to day passes, toying with the absence of those that left.
Alondra, a student in her last year of high school. Her story represents the experiences of more than half a million boys and girls born in the United States that are now stuying in Mexican schools, because their families were repatriated. Alondra helps us understand the long process of learning how to return.
Bruna lives in the United States and her relationship with Brazil, her native country, is full of worries about immigration, papers, lawyers, the fear of deportation and one key phrase in Brazilian Portuguese that describes the most prominent feeling that Bruna has: nostalgia for the home she left behind, saudade de casa.
The Central American siblings Kevin and Natalie, who traveled in the first Migrant Caravan together across Mexico in 2018, were stranded for a little less than two months in northern Mexico. Their journey to the United States transformed into something much more complex and challenging than they could have imagined.
The detention of thousands of migrant families and the separation of fathers, mothers and children under the Trump administration was a policy meant to criminalize migration, a policy that outraged the whole world. Unfortunately, these practices are not new. Michelle, Lady, Daira and Alan tell us about the consequences that these cruel measures have had on their lives.
Dulce, Daniela and David have lived in sanctuary, together with their mother, in the Church of Holyrood in Manhattan, New York, as a strategy to protect themselves against a deportation order. “It’s like playing hide and seek,” they say. They experience a reality in which their liberty and family are at play.
Children that travel through Mexico are exposed to many dangers, threats, discrimination and xenophobic policies. The shelters run by religious communities and civil society represent sanctuaries, shelters and places of refuge where they can rest and feel protected.
During 2018 and 2019 the large Central American migrant collectives organized in caravans to walk together and protect themselves in their transit through Mexico. It was a phenomenon that caught the attention of the entire world. The stories of these boys and girls that formed part of this historical act of displacement provide us with an opportunity to understand this phenomenon from their point of view.
