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getting our green cards, my faith in the loopholes of getting or understanding was slim. I couldn’t
see myself surviving in Poland. That was an entirely different world for me.

“Ma’am. Please send out your application with next day shipping. We have created a case
file under your social security number. We need that application no later than Friday to be
considered,” he replied back after twenty minutes.

“Absolutely! I’ll send it out tomorrow.”
I thanked the man multiple times before hanging up and getting to work on the ten-page
application. Little did I know this was just one small hurdle.
There were several guidelines I had to carefully follow. Certain pages required specific
ink colors. Numerous areas required all upper-case letters while others needed lowercase or
cursive writing. It strictly stated on each page, in bold font, that the application would be
dismissed if instructions were not followed. The questions were extensive. It asked for all my
employment records including beginning and end dates, numbers, addresses, and manager’s full
names. I started receiving a paycheck when I was ten years old under my parents’ employer. I
barely remembered my own phone number, let alone specific employment dates that occurred
over a decade. It required my parents’ medical and school records! I spent about three hours on
the phone with them going over details and locating old pay stubs. It took me through the night
to finish and check over each page. I couldn’t afford any mistakes, literally. This was, on a
lighter note, a time I was thankful for keeping an emergency savings account and all the extra
hours I had put in at the gym. Along with my sweat, nerves, and lack of sleep, my savings
account was depleted in less than a day. It, however, was a better alternative than getting
“shipped off.” A nauseating fact about this all is if I was “shipped off” to Poland, the
relationships I’d made, successes I had accomplished both scholarly and career wise, and the

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