Monachopsis is the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place. It is a word that sums up my experiences as an undocumented individual. I’m not from here or from there. I’m a DREAMer, but I’m not DACA. I am in the constant grey area where the only box that fits my experiences is ‘other.’ The media constantly describes DREAMers in the news but constantly forgets people like me exist. When they hear this word, they think of a DACA recipient but forget to remember the individuals who would have qualified, those who applied and were cut short. Unfortunately, this is not my first time experiencing this. I have always been more than qualified, but because I cannot check a box describing who I am or, more specifically, my immigration status, I always tend to be cut short. Nevertheless, I refuse to let this define me or who I will become. For many immigrants, the gilded truth of the American dream is not found in our accomplishments but in the brief pause in the morning when everything is quiet, sitting at the edge of our beds with our heads hung low, praying for strength to continue each day. Due to my immigration status, my life has been marked by constant instability, unpredictability, and a heightened sense of uncertainty due to the continuous shifts in politics, public opinion, and laws that impact me. Three months after I turned fifteen, the DACA program was rescinded under the Trump administration on September 15, 2017, as I gathered the money and paperwork to submit my application to USCIS. I was devastated, and I remember the day like it was yesterday. Years later, in December 2020, the program would open again for new applicants. I submitted my application in January of 2021. My life whittled down into a large packet of legal documents, accomplishments, and certificates, anything to demonstrate that I had been in the U.S. since I was ten months old. The program was once again closed on July 16, 2021. My application remains stuck to this day. In Arizona, 2,000 undocumented students graduate high school every year. Of those, only 4% attain a college degree, and only 1% attain a master’s degree or higher. Up until two years ago, Arizona passed Proposition 308, a ballot initiative allowing all Arizona DREAMers to receive in-state tuition and publicly funded scholarships. This change did not come about simply but was a product of a community effort through the storytelling of many directly impacted individuals, including myself, who four years ago was limited in accessing funding to attend higher education. Since 2020, I have actively taken action to create change by sharing my story and speaking to legislators at the Arizona state capitol and countless media outlets, canvassing in the community and even using my poetry and voice to raise awareness on Proposition 308 through a video ad in collaboration with Teach for America. My hope is to become part of the 1% and get my Master of Arts in International Policy and Development with a specialization in Spanish and eventually pursue a Ph.D. in educational/developmental psychology, and continue helping the students impacted by the inequalities of immigration and educational policies. As a first-gen student now graduate, I am trying to navigate the uncertainty of my immigration status while trying to find scholarships and other means to continue my education. This funding would allow me to be one step closer to achieving my dreams and allow me to continue advocating for students in a larger capacity as I grow in my career.