“I went to an immigration lawyer who said, ‘You’re a pretty young thing. Find a nice young man and get married,’ because that’s the only path available,” Olubunmi told Ms. “I decided to help change U.S. law instead.”
With immigration a hot-button issue this election cycle and anti-immigrant rhetoric on the rise, certain forces are trying to limit the voting rights of naturalized citizens, who made up one in 10 US. voters in 2020. Yet, there are few organizations dedicated to supporting this growing segment of the electorate.
Tolu Olubunmi, who grew up undocumented in the United States, is trying to change that by sharing her story and encouraging civic participation of immigrants through her new organization, How to Speak American. Olubunmi’s advocacy is premised on the idea that immigration presents an opportunity rather than a problem and that this often-ignored group could make a measurable difference in protecting our democratic ideals.
Tolu sat down with Ms. contributor Michelle Onello to discuss her journey and her plans for how to realize the potential of this important group and foster better understanding between immigrants and native-born Americans.
Michelle Onello: Immigrants, especially the undocumented, have been demonized during this election cycle. You were an undocumented DREAMer but not a DACA recipient—what is the difference?
Tolu Olubunmi: DREAMer is derived from a legislative bill addressing those who came to the United States as children and have no legal status. The DREAM Act, spearheaded by Sen. Dick Durbin, although necessary and generally popular, has been languishing in Congress for decades. DREAMers are American in every way but paperwork.
In 2012, after years of advocacy by immigrant youth, myself included, and Congress failing to pass this much-needed bill, President Obama issued an executive order called Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA. The program mirrors the DREAM Act but since it was not passed by Congress, it can be challenged in court and is not permanent.
DACA provides relief for undocumented youth who were under the age of 31 when the program was announced on June 15, 2012. Those who came to the United States before they turned 16 and are of good moral character can receive a work permit and are given two-year renewable relief from deportation. About 834,000 immigrant youth have benefitted from the DACA program.
The Trump administration tried to end DACA. We went all the way to the Supreme Court, and it’s back in the courts again. At this point, they’re not accepting new DACA applications, but current DACA recipients can continue to renew their status.
I did not qualify for DACA because I turned 31 four months too soon, though I was able to legalize my status through other means years later. I was an immigration advocate on the cover of TIME Magazine with 32 other DREAMers the day DACA was announced and three of us didn’t qualify. Nevertheless, that was a fantastic moment.
President Obama issued an executive order called Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA. … The Trump administration tried to end DACA. We went all the way to the Supreme Court, and it’s back in the courts again.
Tolu Olubunmi
Onello: How did you get involved in immigration advocacy?
Olubunmi: I came to the U.S. without my parents in 1995 from Nigeria when I was 14. I lived with an aunt who planned to adopt me but didn’t file the right papers at the right time, and I lost my legal immigration status. Meanwhile, I went to high school and got a full scholarship to Washington & Lee University, where I was the only woman to graduate with a chemical engineering degree that year.
After graduation, I discovered that the laws changed in 1995 under the Clinton administration, leaving undocumented people with extremely limited ways to gain legal status. I went to an immigration lawyer who said, “You’re a pretty young thing. Find a nice young man and get married,” because that’s the only path available. I was heartbroken, but this meeting changed the trajectory of my life. I was not interested in doing something wrong to fix something I had zero control over, so I decided to help change U.S. law instead.
I was inspired also by President Obama’s 2007 speech announcing his run. He challenged me: If I say I’m American in every way but paperwork, what am I doing to contribute to our society and democracy? So, I started volunteering at the National Immigration Law Center, the nonprofit organization leading the work on the DREAM Act. I became their communications specialist on the bill and went on to help draft different iterations of immigration bills.
But all through that, I didn’t share my own story. I would sit with members of Congress who would tell me that “these people” don’t speak English and that the U.S. needs STEM graduates. I am a Black woman, an African woman, a STEM graduate who speaks English, and I was also undocumented. Many legislators didn’t even know that someone like me existed, and that compelled me to share my story.
I also wanted to help others share their stories in a safe way. I believe that numbers and statistics have their place, but first you have to help people understand our common humanity and then enact policies. I was a founding board member of the United We Dream Network, which is the largest immigrant youth network in the country. Mark Zuckerburg tapped me to co-found a new nonprofit now known as I’m An Immigrant. We dedicated June as Immigrant Heritage Month in 2014; it continues to be an annual celebration of America as a nation of immigrants.
Working on U.S. immigration policy has been fulfilling and provided me a community, but it doesn’t end at our borders. We have to come together, as a world, to solve this issue, to see the opportunity.
I am a Black woman, an African woman, a STEM graduate who speaks English, and I was also undocumented. Many legislators didn’t even know that someone like me existed, and that compelled me to share my story.
Olubunmi
Onello: When you started to share your own story, what were people’s reactions?
Olubunmi: I was deeply ashamed for a very long time, but I didn’t project the same shame onto other DREAMers. We had nothing to do with decisions made for us as children, and now we are trying to make the best of a bad situation.
Coming out publicly as undocumented was difficult. People were shocked because I was seen as All-American in certain ways. In college, I was in a sorority, was a peer counselor, just this “normal” person. I was American, but wasn’t American.
When people heard my story, there was generally a lot of compassion and support, but I’ve also been called horrible things, sometimes to my face and sometimes by powerful men and women. Having my story told on the floor of Congress multiple times means the hate is going to come from certain corners.
Onello: What was your inspiration for your new organization, How to Speak American?
Olubunmi: When I came to the U.S. in 1995, like many immigrants, I longed to belong, so I watched the movie Clueless to learn “how to speak American.” Many immigrants have their versions of learning to speak American, so that’s how we got the name. The United States has defined my ideas of democracy and civic participation, so How to Speak American is my love letter to this country that has given me so much.
I see my work as proof that advocacy, though powerful, is limited when not coupled with the power of the vote. How to Speak American is about demystifying the road to U.S. citizenship, encouraging civic participation by immigrants and refugees and getting them to vote. In 2020, the share of the U.S. electorate that were non-native-born citizens was 10 percent. Millions more, about 9 million, are eligible for naturalization but haven’t done so yet.
There are get-out-the-vote campaigns, but not many focus on immigrants like me or naturalized citizens. There is this powerful, yet ignored, electorate that could make a measurable difference in our democracy, and we need to encourage them to participate.
In 2024, 4 billion people are going to the polls, which is half of the world. I’m 43 years old and I’ve never cast a vote in my life. My road to citizenship has been a 30-year journey and I want to celebrate being able to vote. Becoming a U.S. citizen requires an oath to be loyal to the U.S., and part of that loyalty is to vote and participate in our democracy. Being civically engaged is the essence of How to Speak American.
Onello: What types of activities are part of How to Speak American?
Olubunmi: How to Speak American was originally intended just for the 2024 elections, where we partnered with organizations like the National Partnership for New Americans and HeadCount, to help with new citizen registrations and naturalizations, primarily via online campaigns.
But now we envision going beyond the 2024 election, expanding globally and adapting messaging to foster democratic engagement worldwide. Imagine the impact of a How to Speak German or How to Speak Kenyan, which could address the unique challenges and celebrate the democratic spirit of those nations. The “How to Speak” series is a testament to the enduring belief that citizenship is more than a legal status. It is an affirmation, a belonging, an expression of shared values and a commitment to a collective future.
The politics of migration are far too often divorced from reality. Until we get more people that have lived experiences of migration actively participating, we will continue to see it as a problem rather than an opportunity. Migrants are some of the most incredible humans. To leave everything to start over in a brand new country takes courage, ingenuity and adaptability.
In our country, certain forces are trying to limit the vote of naturalized citizens. But it has never been more essential for us to insist on our hard-fought-for right. Civic participation by new Americans is essential and not incidental to preserving our democratic ideals.
The ultimate goal for the “How to Speak” series is for native-born and migrants to come together as we address the transnational phenomenon that is international migration. We spend a lot of time encouraging assimilation by immigrants and refugees, but one-sided integration breeds division and isolation. There’s so much that we can learn from each other, so much that we can do together.
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