Claudia’s Dream – When Guatemala Sends Its Hope

I did not know Claudia Patricia Gómez González.

But I know many like her. A Mam (Maya) woman, born and raised in the small village of Los Alonzo, near San Juan Ostuncalco, Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, she had already overcome long odds in achieving what she had.

 

She was, in many ways, a typical young woman for the highlands. Sitting astride two cultures, photographs show her in both her brightly colored traditional Maya clothes and those of the trendy modern world. She was barely five feet tall. Her parents were Lidia and Gilberto, and she had two younger sisters, who she helped care for. She was popular amongst her friends and had a serious boyfriend, Yosimar, to whom she planned to eventually marry. They exchanged loving selfies, and silly posts when she could afford cell service.

First though, she wanted to go to school.

Claudia was obviously bright and motivated. Not only did she finished grade school but had gone on to graduate from a local colegio (sort of a high school with a specialized focus) with a certificate in accounting.

A small thing, you might say. But in Guatemala, where many tens of thousands of children – particularly the indigenous Maya – never finish elementary school, where the simple school supplies are beyond their economic reach, it is no mean feat. When, as often is the case, a family must choose which, if any, of the children will go to school, the girls often lose out to their brothers. After all, it is reasoned, the girls won’t need school to raise their children, cook and clean and keep a household. But Claudia, called “Princesita” by her family, persisted.

Already bilingual, speaking her native Mayan Mam language as well as Spanish, she hoped to learn English as well. In a country with 23 official languages (of which English is not one) the ability to speak English well can be an economic godsend. She wanted to go to college.

But college costs money. Far more than her family could afford. So, Claudia was looking for work.  She spent two years after graduation seeking a job, but none could be found. Not in her village. Nor in the nearby town of San Juan Ostuncalco, nor in the larger city of Quetzaltenango.

She could have tried in Guatemala City, of course. But the city has no better opportunities, and some of the meanest of the mean streets of Central America.  The city eats rural indigenous girls like Claudia for breakfast.

She just wanted her modest dream. Education. A better life for her and her family. To make a difference.  With the naiveté of youth, her strength, and the hope of something better, she set out on a 3000-mile journey to find it in the United States.  Just to make enough money to help her family and later to return to Guatemala for school. She knew it was dangerous, but her father had made it, though deported back to Guatemala after a brief time.  Her novio (boyfriend) was attending school in the U.S. as well.

“Mamita, we’re going to go on ahead. [to the U.S.]  I’ll make money. There is no work here.” Were her last words to her mother.

Fifteen days later, having made it half way to her destination, and less than a half-mile into the United States, Princesita was dead, killed by a single gunshot to the head by a U.S. Border Patrol officer.

The details of the shooting are muddy. The Border patrol has already altered its original official story in multiple respects, and no longer claims that Claudia, all five feet of her, was assailing a border patrol officer.  Witnesses state she was simply hiding in the bushes. Investigations continue. Some say that the conclusion is foregone, and nothing will be done. Many say she was simply one more “illegal”, and that alone justifies, somehow, her death.  Sadly, in a week, her story will be forgotten by most.

Claudia Patricia “Princesita” Gómez González was not an “animal”. She was not a rapist, criminal or MS-13 gang member. She was, like most immigrants, simply trying to follow her hope of a better life for herself, her family and ultimately her native country by coming to the “shining city on the hill”.

 

Claudia Patricia “Princesita” Gómez González certainly did not set out to be a martyr to a cause.  She, like any other 20-year-old, wanted very much to live a long and happy life, work a fulfilling job, and be surrounded by friends, family and children.

We should, however, remember her name. Remember that Claudia Patricia “Princesita” Gómez González, like all immigrants, documented or not, was a real human being, not so different from our own children, trying to make her way.

 

 

 

I think, no matter your politics, your stance on immigration issues or how you vote, we can agree that the answer to Claudia Patricia “Princesita” Gómez González’s dreams ought not to have been a bullet.