From undocumented Petaluma student to doctor at Cornell University

Monica Cornejo was just 6 years old, and without any family by her side when she crossed the border from Mexico into the US in 2001.

Twenty one years later, she received her Ph.D in just four years from the University of California, Santa Barbara, and as a newly minted doctor, she was accepted as an assistant professor at the Ivy League Cornell University, focused on interpersonal communication. Her upcoming position marks a major milestone for the first-generation college student who has seen opportunities and challenges as a member of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program.

Pursuing a long and challenging path through the tiers of academia, Cornejo was motivated by her love of research and the light at the end of the tunnel: a tenure-track position at a prestigious university.

In addition to a job, she hoped the accepting university could petition for her green card and, eventually, citizenship. Or so she thought.

After Cornell University hired an attorney to work on her immigration case, Cornejo discovered a petition was not possible, leaving her in a continued limbo, like many DACA residents.

Immigrant childhood

Cornejo’s father emigrated to the U.S. a year before she made the trip. Her mother and four siblings followed shortly after, separate from Cornejo to reduce the risk.

Cornejo was reunited with her father upon her arrival, a man she didn’t recognize. The bearded farm worker looked nothing like the clean-cut father she remembered.

Cornejo then made him promise never to leave her side. But the next morning, he left for work and the 6-year-old locked the trailer she now called home.

When her father returned, she wouldn’t let him in. “He said, ‘Let me in!’ And I said, ‘No, because you left me.’ He was mad and yelling and had to crawl through the window.”

Cornejo didn’t speak a word of English when she arrived. “I struggled with learning the language but also with being bullied in school because of it,” she said.

While the young girl faced strife throughout her childhood and academic career, she understood her parents struggled in a different way. Cornejo had to learn English so she could translate for her folks as well.

She attended to Two Rock Elementary School in Petaluma before transferring to Petaluma Junior High School. In 2007, following her sixth-grade year, Cornejo’s family survived a structure fire.

The event was traumatic even more so for an undocumented family, who lacked insurance and other resources to rebuild. They had to start over with nothing, which was made worse when Cornejo was targeted by her classmates with a vicious rumor that she started the fire.

“I remember being very distraught because I had lost my puppy, it was my dog, and we saw its little burned body after the fact,” Cornejo said. “We had lost everything. I remember hearing the [Red Cross] person say, ‘Yeah the house burned down, the oldest child is pretty distraught, but they’ll be fine.’”

Cornejo switched to what she felt was a more comforting environment at Mary Collins School at Cherry Valley. She attended high school at Valley Oaks independent study where she graduated early.

“I didn’t want to go back to regular high school, I always felt more mature than the other kids, I didn’t feel like I could thrive in my studies,” she said.

As conversations about college began, Cornejo was unsure what to do because of her undocumented status.

Higher education

At Santa Rosa Junior College, Cornejo was still finding her path but decided to major in psychology. After taking professor A.C. Panella’s class, who said Cornejo was “always destined for greatness,” she learned about graduate school and her options as a DACA recipient.

With an associate’s degree in psychology, the aspiring student transferred to Sonoma State University where she received her bachelor’s and she discovered her love of research in the McNair Scholars Program.

Through the program for undergrad students interested in doctoral studies and research, Cornejo met her first Latina mentor, Dr. Mariana Martinez.

“I always joke that I got lucky meeting the right people at the right time,” Cornejo said. “As a first generation college student, and an immigrant person, you don’t know [your options].”

Martinez was proud of Cornejo’s continued academic success, and said, “She’s very smart, very curious. She definitely had the right questions and interests, she didn’t quite know how she was going to grad school―what that entailed, but she was really good at research and asking questions.”

Martinez described Cornejo as driven and notes that her position is very unique. “Latinas make up less than 0.2% of people with a doctorate. In her field, even less. It’s predominantly white and she went to a predominately white school, both for undergrad and her doctorate.”

PhD in 4 years

Martinez said Cornejo faced many uphill battles but always stayed focused on her path. She finished her program in four years, going straight from undergrad to her doctorate.

“Grad school was different but also very similar to when I started at Two Rock,” Cornejo said. There were very few Latinas and undocumented individuals in the program.

“When I started at UCSB, I was one of three undocumented PhD grad students in the entire university,” she said. “The first two years were the hardest, I remember I wanted to quit every single day.”

She felt isolated and unsupported as a Latina and considered getting her master’s degree and leaving campus. Then she was told if she kept going, earning her PhD and a tenured position following graduation, she could qualify for a green card.

“That totally changed my goals, like, ‘Oh, finally!’ I’ve never been able to travel outside the U.S., I always feel like I have this big target on my back, always being afraid of being deported, I couldn’t access federal financial aid,” Cornejo said. “So I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, I can finally feel like I belong. I can be part of the U.S.’”

Cornejo applied to several prestigious universities and was accepted to all that offered her interviews. She landed on Cornell, which she felt was a long-shot.

“I was like, ‘Yeah right, they’re never going to take me. This poor Mexican who’s undocumented,’” She said. “Yeah, my research is amazing and interesting but because of the way academia is, I thought an Ivy League wouldn’t be interested.”

Cornejo negotiated with Cornell, her acceptance was contingent on the school petitioning her for a green card. The institution agreed and paid to hire a lawyer for the petition process.

Limitations of DACA

After all her hard work, Cornejo was told she could only obtain a green card by marrying a U.S. citizen. “They said because DACA is not a status, the government doesn’t let you jump from no status to a status,” she said. “There isn’t a policy or law stating DACA is permanent ... so nobody could petition me.”

Cornejo is grateful for DACA, but feels it’s a Band-Aid solution because it does not offer a path to citizenship.

“Obviously I’m very thankful it exists, because I wouldn’t have been hired at Cornell without it,” Cornejo said. “But it limits you, you have to renew it every two years, pay close to $500, you can’t travel, and there really is no way to move from DACA — you’re stuck.”

The New York Times’ “A Decade After DACA: the Rise of a New Generation of Undocumented Students,” explains, “During the decade since DACA took effect in June 2012, some 800,000 young people have registered. But a long-term political solution never materialized.”

“The idea among supporters was that Congress eventually would address the immigration status of the estimated 11 million people who are in the country illegally, rendering the temporary program unnecessary,” said Miriam Jordan in The Times.

Following her move to Ithica, New York, Cornejo said she will continue to work on local projects such as Lideres del Futuro with SRJC professor, Rafael Vázquez Guzmán.

“My question to the people in power is, ‘What else can we do? How else can we prove that we are American?’ We just don’t have papers,” Cornejo said.

Cornejo’s research examines the structural barriers and inequities among undocumented immigrants, how these limitations impact their communication, identity and relational management. She studies advocacy strategies to combat these barriers, and how they relate to undocumented immigrants’ mental health and wellness.

“It’s important to use our voices, and although we can’t vote, we can advocate. We can call our representatives, educate others, go out and march and protest, we can take social media, so we’re not defenseless.”

Emma Molloy is an intern for the Argus-Courier. She can be reached at emma.molloy@pressdemocrat.com.