Immigrant Women Help Others Find the American Dream

Twenty five years ago, Luz Quintero was attending college in her native Colombia, when her father told her that he could only afford for her younger brother to get a degree. She was a girl – she wouldn’t need one.

Luz’s grandfather gave her his savings and told her to go to America to get an education. Only twenty one years old, she made the journey to New Jersey where she went to work for a cleaning service. Her boss let her take daily English classes at a local library.

“I’m still learning,” she laughs.

Now Luz works for Early Head Start, particularly with migrant families and their children. She also donates her time to Newton-based El Refugio and the Migrant Ministry at Sparta’s Blessed Kateri.

“Unless you come here illegally, you don’t understand how difficult life can be for [the undocumented] immigrants,” she says of why she works with the outreach programs.

And Luz does understand. She crossed the border illegally and lived without documents for three years, until she was able to obtain legal residency in 1988 under an amnesty program.

Luz earned her US citizenship in 2004, after waiting eight years because of misplaced paperwork.

“I am an immigrant also, and I wanted to be able to help other people when they come here,” she explains. “For me, it was a way to give back what I received when I came here.”

Lelia Gomez and Libia Eichler, both Sparta residents, feel the same way.

Lelia came to America from Ecuador in her early twenties to learn English. She didn’t plan to stay in the US, but she met her husband and fell in love.

For over two years, the mother of three has been the director of El Refugio.

“I believe everybody should have an opportunity,” says Gomez.

“As human beings, we all want something better for our families,” adds Eichler. Libia is an outspoken grandmother of three who volunteers for Blessed Kateri’s Migrant Ministry as a translator for the Hispanic Network Hotline and a driver for immigrants who need to get to doctors’ appointments.

Libia came to America thirty five years ago, before outreach programs had really emerged to help migrants. She barely spoke the language, but she came to be with her husband, an American traveling on business whom she met and married in Peru.

“I learned to rely on myself, I think…I went through a lot of changes very quickly.”

All three women agree that conditions for immigrants today differ drastically from when they came to America.

“I find that it’s harder now…I didn’t have papers, and I was working for a company, doing cleaning. I had a stable job,” Luz offers. “I feel like [now] it’s more a stigma that you’re Spanish, and not everyone has that opportunity that I had.”

There is no amnesty program that gives undocumented immigrants the chance to assimilate into American society.

“They want the opportunity to work…and to not be afraid. So, they try not to show their faces,” Libia states.

Despite the challenges posed by working in outreach programs for migrants, these women love being able to help those struggling to build a life in America.

“They give me more than what I have given them,” exclaims Eichler.

Luz lights up when she talks about her job, the enthusiasm evident in her voice. “Doing my job now is just my dream come true.”