I’m a Korean-American student attending a junior college in the Windy City. I often look forward to reading the latest New York Times Bestseller, occasionally break the nine-o’clock curfew set by my extremely traditional parents, and I tend to find different cultures fascinating. From these few facts, one could gather that I’m a regular girl next door. Yet there is something that sets me apart from your average “girl next door.”

As a high school student, I dare say that I was dedicated. But despite my academic achievements and desire to learn, I could not apply for financial aid. And as certain as I call Chicago my home, I cannot work legally next to my peers. As much as I dream to be an influential person, it figures that all I can do is keep my head low and hope I won’t get caught. This is because I am undocumented.

My parents immigrated to Paraguay from South Korea, married there and had me and my two sisters. It was there that my parents dreamt bigger dreams and brought my sisters and I to the United States when I was only 10-years-old.

A new life in a different country

When I arrived here, I wasn’t old enough to understand the concept of rebuilding a life in a foreign country. I felt like a goldfish released for the first time in an ocean after a lifetime inside a fishbowl. The learning environments, the strange neatness and order of the streets, the different religious beliefs my classmates held, the variety of the seasons; these characteristics of the U.S. and Chicago were all very new to me. It was in this new environment where I would ground my roots and strive to outperform academically.

I rigorously worked to keep my grades up and my efforts paid off when I was accepted to a prestigious high school in the city. I was often in a mix of awe, intrigue, joy and pride after an insightful class or successful club meeting. Counselors, teachers and friends not only opened up an exciting array of professions I could hope to engage in the future, but also instilled the confidence I needed to achieve them. But all this wasn’t enough. College loomed, and the financial resources to attend an institution of higher learning of my choice grew scarce. This fact was as concrete and ever-present as if a cement block were sitting in my stomach all day. While I am grateful to have the chance of continuing my education post high school, I am limited in my choices and everywhere I turn, I feel as though my wings have been clipped.

The DREAM Act is a legislation that would change the tide. Instead of thinking what undocumented students would take away, consider all we would bring to the future of this country we call home. Instead of worrying that we would be threats to national security, see how we help protect the country to real dangers. There is an untapped population, 65,000 students each year, who yearn to give back and serve. Help us open the doors of opportunities.