Tuesday, June 24, 2025
When we hear the term “illegal immigrant,” it’s easy to jump to the conclusion that the individual is a criminal, someone who has broken the law, and deserves punishment. But the truth is far more nuanced. For many immigrants, coming to the United States without legal documentation isn’t an act of criminality, but an act of survival — an effort to escape violence, political persecution or a situation so dire that the only option is to flee.
As the child of immigrants who fled El Salvador during its civil war in the late 1980s, I have a perspective that is shaped by personal experience and an understanding of the deeper human motivations behind these decisions.
My parents, both from El Salvador, arrived in the U.S. with nothing but hope and fear for their lives. They understood the risks they were taking by entering this country without legal documentation, but the alternative was staying in a country where the government was killing its own people.
El Salvador’s civil war, which began in 1979, was marked by brutal violence, corruption and ruthless repression. The Salvadoran government, heavily supported by U.S. military aid, waged war against leftist insurgents and civilians it accused of being sympathetic to them. Throughout the conflict, military and paramilitary forces committed countless atrocities — massacres, forced disappearances and the destruction of entire villages. Thousands of innocent civilians were murdered or disappeared simply for being suspected of opposing the government.
For my parents, like many others, staying in El Salvador meant living in constant fear — fear of being killed, of losing loved ones, or of being caught in the crossfire of a war they had no part in starting. Their decision to leave wasn’t just about seeking a better life; it was about survival. It was about fleeing a government that viewed its citizens as expendable.
This is not to say that I support illegal immigration or that breaking the law should be excused. But I believe it’s essential to understand the perspective of those who make the difficult decision to flee their homeland. My parents did not come here to exploit the system or cause harm. They came to escape unimaginable violence, and to find a place where they could live without the constant threat of death.
My father eventually found work managing an apartment complex in Roslyn, contributing to society, paying taxes, and respecting the country that took him in, belying the false narrative that immigrants don’t pay taxes or contribute to the economy.
My parents’ story is far from unique. Not long ago, I met a mechanic who had fled Venezuela to escape violence — just as my father had decades earlier. Like the mechanic, my father was the only one in his family to leave, and he never got the chance to see his parents again. A few years ago, he and I stood at their graves for the first time — a painful reminder that the cost of leaving isn’t just physical, but deeply emotional and enduring. His journey wasn’t about breaking the law; it was about survival.
It’s easy to forget that behind every “illegal immigrant” label is someone with a story, and usually with pain, sacrifice and hope for a better future. These people don’t come here to break the law. They come to escape the laws and systems that were oppressing them. And for every immigrant like my father or that mechanic, there are countless others who face the same impossible decision every day.
So, I ask: If you were living in a country where your government was killing its own people, where staying meant a likely death, would you remain and accept your fate, or would you flee in search of safety? Would you risk breaking the law for a chance at survival?
Hernesto Galdamez is editor of the Baldwin Herald.
