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USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
✍️ “Who am I?”
I’m Dante.
Eighteen. No papers. No guarantees. But I’m still here.
I wash dishes. I sweep floors. I draw when nobody’s looking.
My sketchbook has grease stains and secret saints in the margins.
My favorite color is sky-before-sunset. My least favorite sound is boots at the door.
I come in the back, leave through the alley, keep my head down.
But when I draw? I look up.
Who am I?
Someone trying not to disappear.
Someone who believes that lines can hold more than language.
Someone who sees things no one says out loud.
✍️ “How did I get here?”
I was six when we crossed. I don’t remember the desert, but I remember the song my mother hummed.
Now it’s just me. She got sick last year. ICE took her at the hospital.
I stayed. I work. I don’t make noise.
I found the diner through someone who owed Lucy a favor. I wash dishes faster than most. I stay late. I listen.
Hank doesn’t say much, but he leaves me extra food on my break.
Lucy pretends not to notice my drawings, then refills my tea when I’m deep in a sketch.
Carlos asked if I’d ever thought of printing them. I laughed.
I draw people who don’t get seen. Faces in shadows. Hands holding receipts. Border fences turning into wings.
How did I get here?
By staying quiet long enough to be let in.
By drawing the things I can’t say.
By surviving the cracks—and finding light there.
What has life taught me?
That silence is not the same as invisibility.
That art can be a shield—and a flare.
And that even ghosts leave fingerprints.
Friends & Associates
Henry “Hank Mc Callister – Empoyer.
Lucinda “Lucy” Martinez – Fellow employee and friend.
