From The Northwest Herald

Claudia's journey

Family ties draw woman back to Mexico after 6 years in U.S.

By JAMI KUNZER

jkunzer@nwherald.com

Here in McHenry County, her boys had bicycles. They had a swingset, Yu-Gi-Oh cards and Spider-Man tennis shoes.

They had opportunity.

But the family couldn't stay. So 25-year-old Claudia Sauceda and her three young boys boarded a plane in June and returned to Mexico to an uncertain future and a half-finished home with a dirt floor.

For her and many illegal immigrants like her, much of the American dream was just that – a dream. She left with a heavy heart, but she left stronger.

* * *

Claudia slicked strands of long black hair into her ponytail as she loaded a van full of her family's belongings. She took what she thought she could take on the plane, at least five plastic bins and suitcases stuffed so tight that the zippers bulged.

The shiny bicycles had to stay.

"We're going to Chicago, then the airport," 9-year-old Miguel announced, lugging his backpack with a book, "A Bug's Life," sticking out the back.

Claudia patiently buckled his squirming brother, 2-year-old Pedro, into his seat, while Miguel and 7-year-old Jose lollygagged behind them.

The tears she fought back all morning finally won out when she turned to say goodbye.

"It's all good," her friend Ann Fredericks said as she squeezed Claudia tight. "It's all good."

Claudia met Fredericks through Home of the Sparrow, an agency that temporarily houses homeless women and children. Fredericks works in one of the agency's homes.

Claudia ended up there when she finally sought help. The children's father had been deported. Claudia was alone, scared and responsible for three children. She struggled to feed them.

"In Mexico, women are made to take care of kitchen, children and house," she said through a translator. "I had to find how to pay rent. I had to find strength to continue because of my children."

The journey's beginning

Claudia crossed the border at Nogales, Mexico, nearly seven years ago.

She carried a toddler and little money. Like many before her, she paid people to help her sneak across. They asked for more money, threatened her life. But she pleaded with them for her child's sake, and they left her alone.

The boy's father had family in Crystal Lake and promised a better life. Better schools. Their own home. Plumbing. Electricity.

"We see all these well-dressed people and think, 'We can have the same life they have,'" she said. "I came with the idea to do something for us, and for my children to learn and have a better education."

Already raising Miguel, the couple had Jose and Pedro in the United States.

The boys' father painted houses. He sent money back to the family's hometown in San Luis Potosi, Mexico, to build a house.

But one of the boys went to school one day and told a teacher that he was sad. His father had scolded and hit him when he refused to do his homework. The teacher called the Department of Children and Family Services.

The children's father, who Claudia calls her husband even though they are not officially married, went to jail.

"That's when all our problems started," Claudia said.

Finding a job

Claudia was pregnant with Pedro at the time. She did not speak English. No one would hire her, so she cooked Mexican meals and sold them at apartments where Latinos live.

She went to a temporary agency, told employers that she had all kinds of skills and could speak English.

"The lady who interviewed me talked to me in English," she said through a translator. "I just kept saying, 'Yeah.'"

She worked at several factories and cleaned hotel rooms. But the work was never steady.

She would have returned to Mexico right away, but her children were doing well in school and learning English. They would have futures, she thought.

"If there's not enough for me to eat, that's fine; it's my kids," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "I love my children. They're everything to me. For them, I would do anything."

For years, she had lived quietly like the many Latino families around her.

"We, the Latino women, we don't qualify for anything, and we are afraid to ask for help or speak what we need," she said.

Because of her children, she sought help and got it from Home of the Sparrow. They gave her housing. She found a steady job in a school cafeteria. The thin, young woman began to feel sturdy and independent for the first time in her life.

Then word came from Mexico.

The journey's end

Her father's liver is sick. He could be dying.

"Life gives you a lot of turns," she said. "I think a lot about my father because he needs me. If something happens and I'm over here, I'm sad. I'll feel bad. On one side, my children. On the other, my father."

At a time when life was getting better, the pull of her family was just too strong. She decided to go back to Mexico.

She leaves knowing that at least two of her children can return and go to college one day.

And she leaves with no regrets, having learned much from the land of liberty.

"We always have to say, 'I can do this,'" she said. "If things don't happen, continue forward and not focus on the bad things."

As airport employees pored over the family's paperwork and searched the bags, she cuddled Pedro, pretending to eat his ear. She made sure that Jose and Miguel stayed close and had their bags as the family walked to the gate.

She was nervous, but tried to stay calm for the boys, whose eyes wandered from person to person. For them, the trip was more like a long vacation.

Miguel told his mother not to worry.

"There's a lot of kids over there," he said. "We'll be happy."