Cleaning Chronicles: What "Dreamer" Means*
Mami walks over, cell phone in hand, a trapo in the other, and headphones so I can’t make out what she is hearing. “Miraaaa, que bonito!!!”, she coos. I can see the familiar red tone that starts to rise just under the surface of her freckled skin. The tears are coming. I can tell her signs of emotional arousal because they are so similar to mine. The burning that seems to rise from my nose, the heat in all my sinus cavities, almost like hormigas are walking and lighting small fires all over the surface of my skin. The watery eyes, the redness that starts to form around them. The pressure in your throat porque tratas de aguantarte; too late. The tears start. “¿Por qué lloras, Ama?”, I asked her. As I catch a glimpse of the news conference she’s watching. “Ay, lo que dicen, es muy bonito. Nos dicen los primeros “Dreamers” y que también nosotros merecemos Green Cards.” She looks upward and starts to put pressure under he...