New York Times
By Liz Robbins
July 23, 2015
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/23/nyregion/from-an-undocumented-boyhood-to-a-doctorate.html
As
Dan-el Padilla Peralta toggled fluidly between worlds for much of his
life — ancient and modern, poor and privileged, Dominican and American —
there were times when
he managed to forget he was a child without a country.
He
found refuge in New York’s libraries, the Greek and Latin texts
speaking to him even before he could speak their language. He would copy
entire orations, memorizing
for inspiration.
But
always, the fear would return: He could be deported. His mother brought
him to the United States from Santo Domingo, the capital of the
Dominican Republic, when he
was 4, and they overstayed their tourist visas. He has wrestled with
the consequences ever since.
“The drumming of papeles was the background music to my life,” Dr. Padilla said, intoning the Spanish term for legal documents.
Now
he hopes that by telling his life story, he will be able to further the
discussion on immigration policy, which has become a contentious issue
on the presidential
campaign trail. In “Undocumented: A Dominican Boy’s Odyssey From a
Homeless Shelter to the Ivy League” (Penguin 2015), he recounts the
extraordinary arc from poverty to the all-boys Collegiate School in
Manhattan, to Princeton, then Oxford, where he earned
a masters in philosophy, and Stanford, where he earned a doctorate in
classics.
At
age 30, Dr. Padilla is at Columbia as a postdoctoral fellow in
humanities, and next summer, he will return to Princeton as an assistant
professor of classics. He has
a work visa, but is not yet a citizen, a status he hopes will soon
change because in March, Dr. Padilla married a woman from Sparta, N.J.,
whom he had dated for six years. He is still waiting for his green card
application to be considered.
Dr.
Padilla said that his wife, Missy, a social worker, was teasing him
recently that he still could not enjoy his success. To explain his
pessimism, Dr. Padilla cited
Homer’s Iliad, where two jars stood on the floor of Zeus’ palace, one
containing bad things, and the other a mixture of good and bad. There
was no vessel of all good things.
“I
live, in part because of the conditioning of my childhood and
adolescence, in this state of expectation that something really bad is
about to come our way,” Dr. Padilla
said.
His
mother, Maria Elena Peralta, came to New York for the end of her
high-risk pregnancy when she was carrying Dr. Padilla’s brother, Yando.
The boys’ father, frustrated
by his low-paying jobs, returned to the Dominican Republic three and a
half years later. She risked staying illegally when she saw how her
oldest son was already excelling in school.
“It
was when his teacher started speaking with me and saying what he was
doing in the classroom, I began asking myself, ‘How could I ever
return?’ ” Ms. Peralta, 54, said
in Spanish with Dr. Padilla translating.
When
Ms. Peralta struggled to find work because of her undocumented status,
the family had little to eat and lived in homeless shelters and
subsidized housing. But her
oldest son was happy if he was learning. He rescued books from trash
bins, she recalled. At age 8, after finishing “Peter Pan,” he tried to
retell the plot, lecturing his 3-year-old brother.
A
volunteer art teacher at a homeless shelter in Bushwick, Brooklyn, had
noticed young Dan-el reading a book about Napoleon. Impressed and
charmed, the teacher, Jeff Cowen,
befriended him and steered him to his alma mater, Collegiate.
“He
strove for the very best for us, and he did it without any expectation
of return,” Ms. Peralta said of Mr. Cowen. “He wanted Dan-el to
flourish.”
When
Dan-el started Latin as an eighth grader at Collegiate, his teacher,
Stephanie Russell, was taken aback at how he had not only read Plato,
but also had thoroughly
absorbed it. She did not know his background, nor did she care.
Dan-el Padilla moved to the United States when he was a child.
“His intellectual gifts were what jumped out at me,” Dr. Russell said, adding that he was well-liked for his easy generosity.
“He
spread an influence around that we were all the better for,” she said.
“And all of this while obviously leading a split, double life.”
It
is a dichotomy that Dr. Padilla describes in his memoir by mixing slang
and earnest prose. He is as fluent in the Fugees as he is in the Fates
and recently wrote a
weighty article about antiquity’s influence on hip-hop artists (“From
Damocles to Socrates”) for the online classics journal Eidelon.
Dr.
Padilla can go from opining on Plato to opining on Pedro — as in Pedro
Martinez, the Dominican Hall of Fame pitcher. He entertained working for
a Major League Baseball
team or writing for the analytical-heavy Baseball Prospectus.
Instead,
he chose an academic career in one of the more esoteric disciplines. He
has spent this summer at Columbia teaching previously incarcerated
adults the relevance
of the ancient texts. He has not talked about his own story.
“He
loves the texts, I mean, I don’t see any time for anything else,” one
student, Isaac Scott, 35, said. “He loves this stuff, reading,
literature, the ideas, the questioning,
the doubts, the ambiguity. He loves when we catch on to something.”
Dr.
Padilla did not “come out” as undocumented until his senior year at
Princeton, when he told his friends and posted on a Princeton message
board, in advance of an article
that was later published in The Wall Street Journal. In 2006, he joined
an immigrant advocacy movement even as his lawyer, Stephen Yale-Loehr,
was trying to find a way for him to be able to return from studying at
Oxford. Mr. Yale-Loehr has petitioned for
his client’s status at every academic stage.
For
Dr. Padilla, the strangest stage may be an actual one. A new musical
inspired by his life, “Manuel Versus the Statue of Liberty,” written and
produced by a Princeton
alumna, Noemi de la Puente, will be performed this week in Manhattan.
The
other day, Dr. Padilla met his mother to give her a signed copy of the
book, which he dedicated to her. In her confident and petite elegance,
it was clear where he
got his determination. Ms. Peralta said she began writing her own
memoir soon after he was born.
“I
said at the time, If I don’t ever finish this, Dan-el will write the
story,” Ms. Peralta said. “I would have liked for the narrative to have
been one with less suffering,
for there to have been less in the way of pain.”
For more information, go to: www.beverlyhillsimmigrationlaw.com
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