Emotional Challenges of Undocumented Young Adults: Ontological Security, Emotional Capital, and Well-being

Using data from 53 in-depth interviews with undocumented immigrant young adults in Florida, we argue that undocumented legal status leads to a range of emotional challenges among this group. Lack of ontological security is at the core of emotions they must contend with, from frustration, fear, shame, and depression to anxiety about their future. Positive coping strategies include individually oriented activities such as listening to music, exercising, playing sports, attending church, and turning to close family members or friends for advice or compassion. Negative coping strategies often include behaviors that result in self-harm, including starving themselves, overeating, drinking, smoking, using drugs, and even ideating or attempting suicide. The most positive mechanism to foster well-being draws from social and emotional health generated by membership in immigrant advocacy organizations that provide opportunities for empowerment and belonging. Meaningful social connections result in positive emotional states, which in turn, provide young immigrants with emotional capital to aid in the process of resocialization, leading them to recast negative emotions into positive ones. We conclude with a discussion of conditions most conducive to the emotional well-being of undocumented immigrant young adults and factors that enhance emotional capital and contribute to greater well-being among this population.

Utilizando los datos de 53 entrevistas de profundidad con jóvenes inmigrantes indocumentados en Florida, argumentamos que el estatus de ser indocumentado legalmente conduce a una serie de retos emocionales a este grupo. La carencia de seguridad general en todos los sentidos (“ontológica”) es el meollo central de las emociones con las que tienen que lidiar, desde la frustración, el miedo, la vergüenza, y la depresión hasta la ansiedad, sobre su futuro. Las estrategias positivas para afrontarlo incluyen actividades individuales como escuchar música, hacer ejercicio, practicar deportes, ir a la iglesia, y recurrir a la familia o amigos para pedir consejo o compasión. Las estrategias negativas de superación a menudo incluyen comportamientos que tienen como resultado la autolesión, incluyendo la anorexia, la bulimia, el abuso del alcohol o el tabaco, el consumo de drogas e incluso el pensamiento suicida o el intento de suicidio. El mecanismo más positivo para conseguir el bienestar se deriva de la salud emocional y social generada por afiliación a organizaciones de ayuda al inmigrante que proporciona oportunidades para el fortalecimiento y el sentimiento de pertenencia. Las importantes conexiones sociales provocan estados emocionales positivos que, además, proporciona a los inmigrantes jóvenes con un capital emocional que les ayuda en el proceso de resocialización llevándolos a reformular emociones negativas en positivas. Concluimos con una discusión sobre las condiciones más propicias para el bienestar de los jóvenes inmigrantes indocumentados y los factores que mejoran el capital emocional y contribuyen a un mayor bienestar en esta población.

undocumented, immigrant youth, ontological security, emotional well-being, social well-being

There are 2.5 million undocumented youth and young adults (under the age of 25) in the United States, making up nearly 23 percent of the overall undocumented population (Migration Policy Institute 2016). Recent research has increased what we know about the lives of undocumented youth and the challenges they face after they turn 18 (Ábrego 2006; Aranda, Vaquera, and Sousa-Rodriguez 2015; Gonzales 2016), less clear is how their emotional lives are affected (Gonzales, Suárez-Orozco, and Dedios-Sanguineti 2013; for exception, see Negrón-Gonzales 2013). This question is particularly important since after age 18, they are no longer eligible for public education, and expectations to form relationships, go to college, and participate in the labor market increase (Ábrego 2006).

In 1982, the Supreme Court case Plyler v. Doe ruled that all children, regardless of immigration status, were guaranteed public education from kindergarten through twelfth grade (Plyler v. Doe 1982). Since then, hundreds of thousands of undocumented students have been able to enroll in schools, though access to quality schooling remains elusive for many (Gonzales, Heredia, and Negrón-Gonzales 2015). Despite access to K-12 education, until recently, undocumented students could not legally work, drive, or participate in other rites of passage into adulthood. They were also subject to deportation at any time.

On June 15, 2012, President Barack Obama instituted, by executive decree, the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA). This program temporarily delays removal proceedings for undocumented youth and young adults who arrived to the United States before their sixteenth birthday and who meet DACA’s strict application requirements. It also opens opportunities to previously inaccessible driver’s licenses and work permits. Even with, but especially without the temporary benefits of DACA, undocumented immigrant youth grow up in the margins of society, with limited opportunities for upward social mobility. Once they shed their status as “minors,” their access and ability to enter other societal institutions is tenuous.

Our research takes a closer look at emotional challenges of undocumented adolescents and young adults coping with fluctuating emotional states. We propose that the emotional well-being of young undocumented immigrants is intrinsically linked to the erosion of “ontological security” that transpires during the process by which they come to know about their undocumented status and fully grasp the magnitude of its implications. Anthony Giddens (1991) defined ontological security as the “confidence that most human beings have in the constancy of the surrounding social and material environments of action” (p. 92). This ties closely with a “sense of the reliability of persons and things” (Giddens 1991:92), which is central to trust. Losing this trust due to their liminal legal statuses (Menjívar 2006) means they are confronted with challenges that may lead to negative emotional states, compromising their well-being.

We examine how positive emotional well-being can be facilitated by opportunities to develop social connections (Negrón-Gonzales 2013). When social relationships are perceived as genuine and meaningful connections are formed, immigrant youth gain access to emotional capital, a mechanism that offers resources that enhance their opportunities, quality of life, and emotional health. Emotional capital is understood as a set of “emotional dispositions” that, in Spencer Cahill’s (1999:112) words, generates “emotional perceptions, reactions, expressions, and emotion management strategies.” The sense of interconnectedness that emerges from meaningful social relationships can result in sources of emotional capital that help restore ontological security.

BACKGROUND

Emotional Well-Being Among Undocumented Young Adults

Roberto Gonzales and Leo Chavez (2012) describe the process whereby undocumented youth come to occupy liminal statuses and grow aware of their status and its consequences. Undocumented youth internalize their illegality, resulting in what Gonzales and Chavez (2012) call “abjectivity”—a form of rightlessness by which immigrants alienate themselves as a result of having been marginalized. Abjectivity may strain such “rites of passage” as starting a first job, obtaining a driver’s license, applying to college, moving out of the parental home, establishing employment, and, eventually, getting married, or becoming a parent (Gonzales 2011, 2016). Many undocumented youth face the harsh paradox that while growing up increases levels of personal, social, and civic responsibilities, turning 18 also means legal options decrease and, consequently, social access and opportunities quickly diminish (Gonzales et al. 2013).

Gonzales and colleagues (2013:1184) conclude that “knowledge of one’s undocumented status and a revised perspective of success in life” severely impact self-esteem, education, and occupational outcomes. Undocumented young adults are likely to experience high levels of anxiety as their aspirations are stunted by struggles to provide proper documents to gain adequate access to transportation, housing, or employment. Many have to navigate their rapidly changing world with little, if any, social support and the stigma of asking for help when constantly labeled as legal outsiders. The diminished opportunities undocumented young adults are likely to face contribute to ongoing financial instability, adding to the chronic anxiety related to “navigating illegality” (Negrón-Gonzales 2013). Fear, shame, and feelings of exclusion have been identified as emotions that young immigrants must manage in the process of “navigating illegality” within a hostile political climate (Negrón-Gonzales 2013).

There are many short- and long-term implications of navigating illegality that remain understudied, particularly how undocumented young adults find support to combat the internalization of stigma and cope with negative emotional states. We hone in on the particular emotions this group experiences, how patterns in expressed emotions affect their overall well-being, and what coping strategies they employ. We also identify mechanisms that seem most conducive to engendering and maintaining positive emotional well-being.

Defining emotional well-being relies on subjective assessments of feelings of being in a stable, positive, and healthy emotional state, or by administering psychological instruments to detect the presence of positive and negative emotions and dispositions. Scholars have examined emotional well-being from many different perspectives. Some have relied on subjective self-reports (e.g., Vaquera and Aranda 2011); others have defined it as a multidimensional construct with different components including affective, somatic, cognitive, and/or medical states (e.g., Vega and Rumbaut 1991); and, yet, others equate emotional well-being with an absence of depressive symptoms (Connor 2012). Across its definitions, positive emotional well-being is intrinsically bound with the development of resilience strategies (i.e., protective mechanisms mediating the relationship between competence and risk) to successfully overcome hardship (Suárez-Orozco and Yoshikawa 2013). Positive measures have been linked to improved physical activity, motivation, self-efficacy, self-reliance, forgiveness, and generosity, which contribute to the long-term, overall health of the person (Park 2004). Negative emotional states have been associated with depression, anxiety, other psychological disorders, and issues with school discipline and/or violence—including use of weapons and of illegal substances (Logan-Greene, Nurius, and Thompson 2012). This evidence is particularly important to undocumented young adults given the cultural stigmas and legal barriers to access comprehensive emotional and psychological health services, as the same barriers to pursuing care can be at the root of emotional and psychological distress that impedes full participation in society (Fortuna and Porche 2014; Gonzales et al. 2013). Experiences of discrimination and isolation also increase vulnerability to depression and chronic anxiety.

Studying emotional well-being is particularly important among immigrant families—often composed of individuals with different immigration statuses. It is estimated that over 16 million people lived in “mixed-status” families in 2010 (Dreby 2015). These families live in the daily shadow of fear of immigration enforcement that could lead to family separation via detention and deportation (Dreby 2015; Menjívar and Ábrego 2012). A persistent sense of instability is accompanied by negative emotional and psychological states of parents with repercussions for the cognitive development of children in the household, whether U.S.- or foreign-born (Suárez-Orozco and Yoshikawa 2013). Psychosocial stressors also affect social development, one’s sense of belonging, educational achievement, economic well-being, and mobility (Crockett et al. 2007). Furthermore, undocumented immigrants underutilize mental health services, due to lack of finances, health insurance, or working long hours and multiple jobs (Fortuna and Porche 2014).

Ontological Security and the Erosion of Emotional Well-Being

We argue that these emotional challenges erode ontological security among undocumented immigrants. How undocumented youth internalize their illegality can foment a sense of betrayal from the country many of them have called home, leading to deep ambivalence about feeling American given the perceived rejection (Aranda et al. 2015). This, in turn, erodes trust in American institutions and their representatives, which may be followed by a loss of feelings of safety, comfort, and trust in the world overall (Giddens 1991).

Migration itself can act as a disembedding mechanism, decreasing immigrants’ sense of ontological security. To cope upon settlement in a new country, immigrants maintain contact with family in the home countries and engage in place-making strategies to restore this sense of security (Aranda, Hughes, and Sabogal 2014). These strategies allow immigrants to build trust, which acts as “a mechanism that curbs existential anxiety and sustains ontological security” (p. 6). For undocumented young adults, these strategies are unlikely to be options, however, as oftentimes they come to the United States at young ages and may not have strong relationships with kin in the country of origin, or may not be old enough to seek places in which their identities are nurtured in the new country. Many may have been disembedded from their home societies during childhood, and the United States may be their only cultural and social frame of reference. It is unclear whether and how these youth experience and cope with the loss of ontological security.

What we do know is that undocumented youth come to question where they belong since definitions of their “homeland” may be contradicting: they experience the United States as their home (subjective identities), yet they are considered foreigners (juridical identities) (Negrón-Gonzales 2014). They are often expected to learn and negotiate cultures transferred to them by their parents, in tandem with those they absorb through peer networks (Hardie and Seltzer 2016). As such, they may be more vulnerable to questioning their place in the world, eroding any sense of ontological security they may have had through childhood and adolescence, thereby affecting their emotional well-being.

In summary, there is a paucity of research on how undocumented young adults manage strong emotions, regulate behavior, or establish and sustain relationships. We examine challenges to emotional well-being that undocumented young adults face as they transition to adulthood. Our focus is on how they cope with these challenges and emotions, leverage social support, and develop strategies to mitigate the loss of ontological security rooted in illegality.

DATA AND METHODS

About 138,000 (6 percent) undocumented youth and young adults (under 25) live in Florida (Migration Policy Institute 2016). Our study is based on 53 in-depth interviews with undocumented and formerly undocumented young adults living in this state. Participants were recruited through snowball sampling. About half of the sample (28) was recruited from active members of immigrant advocacy organizations throughout the state of Florida by the third author and a graduate assistant, both who conducted the interviews. The other half (25), not involved in these immigrant organizations, was recruited when they approached these institutions seeking information about immigration policy updates or seeking social service referrals.

All 53 participants were ages 18 to 33 at the time of the interview, and all arrived to the United States before the age of 16, with the exception of 2 participants who arrived to the United States very shortly after their sixteenth birthday, making them ineligible for DACA. On average, our participants arrived to the United States at the age of 8 and have resided in the United States continuously for 15 years. They migrated from 14 different countries, though half of our sample hails from Mexico. Almost half the sample (27) identifies as female, 25 identify as male, and 1 identifies as transgender. Participants arrived to the United States under a diverse set of circumstances, at different stages of their childhood or adolescence, and from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds. All but one of the participants continues to be undocumented. Forty-two have obtained DACA, and one became eligible for an unaccompanied special immigrant juvenile visa that helped him adjust his status to permanent. The remaining nine are either ineligible for DACA or have not applied. In-person interviews took place at participants’ homes to ensure privacy, or at a public location chosen by the participant where they would feel comfortable talking about their personal lives—usually a park bench or an isolated table at a café. Several interviews were done through videoconference (Skype) when this medium best accommodated a participant’s schedule. In these cases, a Skype account was created with an alias so participants could preserve anonymity. To participate, we obtained verbal consent to meet our institutional review board’s (IRB) safety and confidentiality requirements. Pseudonyms were self-chosen by participants.

The interview guide covered eight topics: racial/ethnic identity, family background, transnational perspectives, educational background, immigration story, sexual identity, emotional/psychological well-being, and coping mechanisms. Interviews also explored migration histories, family life, and relationships. We asked about social and emotional well-being with regard to friendships, home life, schools, and the neighborhoods in which they grew up and live, as well as challenges that stem from their undocumented status. Questions regarding involvement in advocacy work were included when relevant.

Interviews were transcribed verbatim and a constructivist grounded theory perspective guided our data analysis (Charmaz 2008). The authors met and consulted repeatedly throughout the data collection and analysis processes to discuss emerging patterns in the data. We engaged in different rounds and levels of coding, first to identify concepts and categories and, subsequently, to connect concepts and establish relationships between categories (Glaser 1992). The coded data were aggregated and organized into matrices according to common themes that are discussed below.

EMOTIONAL CHALLENGES ROOTED IN LEGAL STATUS

The emotional well-being of undocumented immigrants is intricately tied to the rise of the immigration enforcement regime (Kubrin 2014; Villazor 2013). Under an aggressive surveillance context, undocumented immigrants face many challenges that affect their emotional states. This has been especially harrowing to immigrant families in municipalities of states like Florida where repeatedly driving without a license can be charged as a felony and where police set up routine checkpoints to detain and run fingerprints of individuals driving without proper documentation (Cox and Miles 2013). Even for those who have DACA, law enforcement continues to pose a threat to undocumented members of the family, generating the emotional responses below.

From our data, we have identified patterns of emotions resulting from young immigrants’ own undocumented status and/or that of family members. Whereas the range of emotions is broad, they are not mutually exclusive; many respondents reported simultaneous feelings. Low self-esteem appears as a decreased sense of value and is fed by internalizing the stigma of being undocumented, leading to feelings of worthlessness. Pressure, fear, and anxiety tend to be triggered by fears of deportation of self and others as well as by their own expectations to succeed and not disappoint their families. Some were ashamed of their undocumented status. Frustration is brought about by perceived exclusion from many rites of passage (transitions into early adulthood), such as accessing higher education or finding well-remunerated work, which in turn is a source of loneliness, sadness, and/or depression, and, in some cases, social and physical isolation. Finally, there is an overall sense of insecurity that produces both immediate and long-term angst mainly associated with lacking a safety net and uncertainty about the future. All of these contribute to erosion in ontological security since they fracture social trust and heighten existential anxiety and dread (Giddens 1991).

Given space constraints, we focus only on some of the emotions identified above. Then we examine coping strategies adopted to manage these emotions and show how some help strengthen resolve, while others result in self-harm. We conclude by analyzing coping mechanisms that build social capital and create social well-being, facilitating absorption of emotional capital, or the ability to recast negative emotions as positive ones.

Low Self-Esteem and Feeling Worthless

Internalizing messages of illegality as young adults is detrimental to one’s sense of self and leads to extreme fear, loneliness, distrust, and feeling a lack of control and hopelessness for the possibility of successfully integrating into U.S. society (Gonzales et al. 2013). We see an example of this in Pau,¹ age 24, originally from Chile, who arrived to the United States at age 5. Pau told us how they internalize the stigma of illegality and how this feeds into their overall sense of self-esteem by not being able to fully pursue life goals: “I dream of being somewhere by the age, let’s say 25. Then I think about it and I’m so close to being 25 and I’m nowhere near that goal. So, the sadness or the unworthiness comes in.” Pau had certain goals they wanted to achieve by 25, but when faced with the prospects that their dreams were elusive, they internalized these failures and blamed themselves.

Low self-esteem is also brought up as the product of feeling rejected from the nation in which they live despite feeling American. These youths face contradictory messages from the place they call home (the United States) and the country’s well-publicized values of equal opportunity and meritocracy. They live with an immense pressure to work hard, be accepted, and succeed, which results in feelings of alienation and exclusion when their undocumented status puts limits on or prevents them altogether from carrying out widely expected milestones (Aranda et al. 2015). Participants struggle to avoid internalizing what they hear about undocumented immigrants in the media. Fernando, age 27, who was 14 when he migrated from Brazil with his older sister, explains:

I feel I have been ostracized by laws and by prejudice and I have lost hope. Messages on television, the way people in Congress speak about me, the way the laws are made to oppress me not only as an immigrant but also as a queer person. I don’t feel as if the government and the laws in this country protect me.

Fernando fights internalizing disparaging media messages not just about immigrants but also about his LGBTQ community. His identities (that of immigrant and gay) lead him to fight feelings of being stigmatized and rejected from his adopted country. Like Fernando, many participants talk themselves out of internalizing these views that they perceive others have of them. These feelings precipitate the development of frustration and sadness.

Frustration, Sadness, and Depression

The youth in our sample discuss feelings of frustration, especially in situations where their legal status leads to an inability to fully participate (or to participate at all) in the rites of passage typical of adolescence and young adulthood in the United States, such as driving, applying to college, or getting a job. These negative emotions are more pronounced among those who do not have DACA. With DACA and new tuition guidelines passed by the Florida legislature in 2014, which allow DACA recipients to pay in-state tuition, some of these opportunities have become available to them. However, in the case of higher education, their inability to access federal or state financial aid invalidates many gains that DACA could provide. The prohibitive cost limits many to taking one or two classes at a time, taking them longer to complete their degrees (which also fuels anxiety about not making, what they deem to be, proper progress toward completing the transition to adulthood). Kathy, age 27, who came to the United States from Trinidad at the age of 10, is frustrated at her limited ability to access higher education:

One of the hardships is that I had to take one class at the time ‘cause it was so expensive and on top of that you have to buy books … One time someone asked me, “Why are you taking one class at a time, are you working?” And this person didn’t know my situation. They probably thought I was a lazy bum that didn’t want to do anything … Well not being able to finish college in a timely fashion. It did weigh on me and stress me out … It drove me nuts.

Similar feelings of frustration emerge regarding employment. Their undocumented status blocks their job prospects both in the short and long term. Mario, age 24, from Honduras, who arrived to the United States shortly after he turned 16 (the cutoff age to be eligible for DACA), explains:

Right now, I am unemployed … I was offered a job at $15/hour but I couldn’t take it because I’m undocumented. Another job that I found [online] was at a hotel paying $9/hour plus tips. The HR lady told me, “You could even work at our front desk.” But then I told her about my status and so she told me to go home, “And let me know when you get your status.”

Mario’s legal status and his economic struggles are holding him back, forcing him to take jobs involving hard physical labor at very low pay. This leads to frustration at feeling legally restrained from accomplishing what he knows he can do. Seeing no end in sight, frustration can turn to sadness when undocumented young adults feel like they are in limbo (Martinez 2014). Many respondents try to remain optimistic, but in some cases, prolonged bouts of sadness turn into depression as they internalize anger about life’s circumstances.

Although by discussing sadness and depression we bring up the issue of mental health among this population, it is important to note that the determinants of these conditions are not purely psychological. In many cases, especially among those who had received DACA, a change in their legal status mitigated feelings of depression. Alex, age 20, who migrated from Mexico at 12, felt tremendous relief and happiness when he was finally able to further his education after receiving his deferred action status: “As soon as I obtained my deferred action I received word that [the Florida legislature] was going to start providing in-state tuition for undocumented students with deferred action. And so, I was like, ‘Yes! There is hope. I can do this.’” Nonetheless, many reported having experienced short-term sadness and bouts of long-term sadness leading to depression and accompanying symptoms like weight loss and social isolation.

Under the weight of these emotional challenges, many undocumented youth restrict the number of people with whom they build close friendships. In an effort to avoid being questioned by the wrong person, many of them isolate themselves, or withdraw when depressed.

Loneliness and Social Isolation

Among undocumented youth, in some cases, sadness and depression emerge from and also reinforce social isolation. Pau and Maria (the latter is 22 and came from Mexico at age 10) live in rural communities with little to no access to public transportation. They depend on the single person in their home with a driver’s license to go anywhere. Their parents do not have licenses, thus placing the burden of all family transport on their sister. Due to their limited geographical mobility, Pau describes feeling lonely and isolated. Pau describes conflicting feelings, while home was the only safe place in which to be, the dependency on their sister made them feel like they were under de facto house arrest:

I wish I could go somewhere. I still don’t have my driver’s license, which means I’m pretty much homebound. So the only place I have to go is my room or anywhere within the limits of my home. But, ideally I would like to go either where my partner is or where my friends are. Instantaneously I think I would feel better.

Kathy further describes how lack of status leads to avoiding socializing with peers and restricts where she goes and the friendships she can establish:

I sort of avoided making too many friends. Especially senior year because I knew I was not going to be going off to college right away. And so I didn’t want people to ask me why and then … “Why are you staying at home and why you don’t have a job?” I didn’t want people to ask me that so I avoided making too many friends to avoid the many questions.

Alienation from U.S. society manifested in social distance from peers and hindered Kathy’s desire to get close to anyone for fear that her illegality could be discovered, creating stigma and potentially getting her family in trouble. These narratives demonstrate how social relationships that typically develop during adolescence are disrupted by their undocumented immigrant status, whether borne out of fear of being “caught,” not having certain privileges such as a driver’s license, or their parents trying to protect them from possible negative consequences of being detained, as was the case with Aureliano, age 22, who came from Colombia at age 9. Underlying the mechanisms that lead to isolation is a deep sense of uncertainty and insecurity.

Uncertainty and Insecurity

Overall, many of these emotions become heightened when undocumented youth think about future prospects, often leading to long-term anxiety about lacking a safety net and not being able to trust what others may take for granted (e.g., physical safety, ability to remain with their families). Experiencing these negative emotions throughout their childhood and adolescence and still living with uncertainty translates into struggles with maintaining a sense of ontological security. Those who were old enough to recall their migration to the United States and those whose parents were undocumented and avoided interactions with others out of fear are taught about and quickly internalize insecurities around public officials in general, eroding the trust they could develop in public servants if not for their undocumented status.

For some, it is hard to differentiate the specific functions of the police from ICE officials or from school security guards or mall security guards given their perceived ambiguity of the authority these public officials have to act as immigration agents or to contact immigration enforcement officers. Isabella, age 23, from Mexico, who arrived to the United States at age 3, describes her experience with this insecurity growing up:

We have to watch out for cops. Here, we have to be afraid of cops. I remember bits and pieces of it but I was really young. Was there ever any distinction of, “This is what immigration looks like and this is what cops look like?” Growing up it was any person that looked official. You just stay away from them … mall security guards, anyone that looked official. They terrified me! I remember going to the movies or something and there’d be a security guard. Or at the mall. At the mall all the time I would be afraid. I was like, “Why are they here? It's supposed to be me shopping.”

Insecurity also manifested in other ways, even within their families. For example, if there was conflict in someone’s family, such as domestic violence, there was no recourse. The threat of family separation and deportation teaches many undocumented youth not to call police when they are in danger. Aureliano describes a day he was at work and his mother called him because her abusive boyfriend broke into the house through a window after she locked him out. He was pressured to make a decision different from what he felt was the right path of action—to protect his mother from domestic violence—in order to protect her from possible deportation: “[My mom] told me not to do it [call the police], ‘cause I was going to do it. She told me, ‘Don’t do it.’ So to stop her suffering, I didn’t.”

The fear of family separation and the ways that the “Secure Communities” Program mandates that local police run individual fingerprints through federal immigration enforcement databases has undermined public safety among undocumented families (Kubrin 2014). Undocumented youth and their families, like those of Aureliano and Tony (the latter an 18-year old Nicaraguan who came at age 6), describe situations of abuse and threats to their physical safety where they would otherwise call the police for support, if doing so did not risk losing their loved ones to immigration authorities. Thus, the fear of deportation is related to a sense of uncertainty and an absence of ontological security among these young adults.

Even as children, some young immigrants are exposed to “adult” issues; further, sometimes their legal status creates a context where they must contend with these issues on their own. They cannot trust their families, public officials, or any other adult or institution that could intervene on their behalf to insure their safety. Thus, their own ability to deal with these issues is curtailed due to their undocumented status (not being able to leave the house during an argument, for example). This lack of perceived (and real) control over their conditions and their lives fuel uncertainty and the erosion of ontological security.

Alyssa, age 27, who emigrated from Pakistan as an infant, articulates this angst: “I like to prepare for the worst. I stress about little things. So I rather prepare in case of completely freaking out when it does go bad.” Alyssa has been in the United States since she was 1 and has not seen any change to immigration reform in the 15 years since she was coming of age. During this period, she explains that her mother had to stop working and “live in the shadows” and her father was deported in 2006. She also fears that her U.S. citizen two-year-old daughter may have difficulty going to college because of her status. Her legal status makes her doubt her own capacity to be a good mother. This reinforces the long-term anxiety about lacking a safety net and not being able to trust things many people take for granted, in this case, her own ability to parent and to physically be there for her daughter.

For those who have it, DACA gives them relief from the immediate fear, but the anxiety and insecurity continue because they have parents and other kin who are still subject to deportation. These young adults know that their grip on lawful presence in the United States is slippery; there is really no long-term path to full inclusion. As Fernando states, “I worry about my immigration status, I worry about my income, I worry about losing my job, I worry about my family, my mother who lives in Brazil and I have to send money to, I worry about it all the time.” Stephanie, age 19, who came from from Mexico at age 2, shared:

I get excited in thinking about my future … when I get my own place I think about how I am going to decorate it … what colors I want … And then, having kids excites me, the thought of them being able to be born here. Being able to start a family with no immigrant worries that I grew up with. [But] sometimes I feel like what if it doesn’t go as planned? What if they take away our work authorization? Then what happens? And then I get worried … what will I have to do in the future?

How did these youth cope with the range of emotional challenges and the absence of ontological security in their lives? We turn to this in the next section.

COPING

Thus far, we have discussed feelings associated with immigrants’ undocumented status as they become young adults. Now we focus on behaviors that they engage in to cope with these emotions. While we acknowledge that youth may adopt many other strategies, we highlight the ones most often discussed by our respondents.

Positive Individual Coping Strategies

Our participants describe a range of individually oriented activities to restore a sense of calm when panicked. These include listening to music, going for a walk or run, playing sports such as soccer, attending church and church functions, and reaching out to confidants (if they have them).

Hugo, age 25, who came from Mexico at age 11, plays soccer both to expend energy and because being part of a soccer league “makes me feel that I am part of something bigger.” Luis, age 31, who migrated from Honduras at 15, runs when he feels upset about his undocumented status: “I prefer to run than worry about my situation.” Many others listen to music, such as Rose, age 21, who came from Honduras at age 8. She explains that music “helps me out of my bad moods. He [performer] lifts me up … it takes your mind out of your own body. You’re into the music not thinking about the negative that’s going on. You’re in the music in that moment.” Rose, like others, also went to church, stating that “just being in church gets me out of the hole.”

Others try to work through their feelings by crying, talking to others about problems, or thinking through what is burdening them. Mariposa, age 20, who came from Mexico when she was 5, states: “I would just cry. That’s my way. I hurt my eyeballs by crying.” Brenda, age 18, who came from Mexico at age 6, reaches out to her sisters and her cousins to vent: “I feel like once I get my feelings out, it is big relief.” Selena, 19, who came from Honduras at age 13, also reaches out to her mother and cousin: “I am always like asking for advice and help. I ask them what I can do or I tell them about my things.”

For those who have family accessible, most rely on them for support. However, there are a couple of young men in particular whose families do not live near them, who had a harder time, especially since the source of their sadness or loneliness is being away from them. To ease the pain of being separated from his family, Pedro, age 27, who came from Guatemala at age 14, says that “To feel good … I like to go to church and then I feel like I have more joy.” He is involved in his church, plays the piano, and has reached out to his pastor for support.

Others engage in volunteer work to feel useful and fulfilled. Liset, age 18, who came from Mexico at age 7, did a lot charity work to feel better about herself: “I think of the people that are counting on me and that I can’t let them down.” Similarly, Luis, age 31, who came from Honduras at age 15, attends the youth group in his church, and they often help the homeless.

Others engage in self-talk to try to lift themselves out of feelings of sadness, such as Karina, age 19, who came from Honduras at 10. She keeps to herself in her room listening to music and “just think[s] about the positive things that will make me and my family proud, and how will my future be. That’s how I try [to overcome negative emotions related to being undocumented].” Even among those who engage in positive coping strategies, these do not necessarily preclude them from also resorting to negative ones.

Negative Individual Coping Strategies

Some avoided dealing with their emotions entirely, only for them to come out in more harmful ways. Jerry, age 20, who came from Honduras at age 4, explained:

I’m not good with opening up or giving out emotions or telling people how I feel so all that energy and anger bottles up in me. I explode sometimes. I don’t do it verbally. I do it physically. I’ll go to the gym and go crazy or just punch a bag.

Jerry admits that he has punched things outside of the gym out of anger. Rose also states “I don’t talk about my emotions like that, not with anyone. Everyone tells me I shouldn’t bottle things up but that’s how I deal with it.” Even though Rose feels lonely, she also purposefully removes herself from people because she feels that sometimes anything can trigger the depression: “No one really understands when it comes to my head but me, so that makes me like lonely. I try not to go in the mood but I feel like that a lot because having depression is very difficult sometimes dealing with it.” Because of her depression, Rose explains that in the past she would be in bed frequently, could not eat, and lost a lot of weight. Carlos, on the other hand, explains that when he is mad, he overeats. He indulges in hamburgers to feel better. Others neglect their bodies and have admitted to not taking care of themselves, such as Selena. Even though she had her family as confidants, she barely left the house and was very cautious of who she would talk to.

Over one in five of our participants expresses ever having taken deliberate harmful action against their physical health, largely resulting from the stresses of being undocumented. In particular, they talk about how feelings of depression, stress, anxiety, and uncertainty about the future led to suicidal ideation, eating disorders, drinking, or self-harm, including starving themselves and suicide attempts. Kate, age 24, who came from Venezuela at 6, discussed with us how her eating disorder was a way for her to gain control over something in her life:

I determined when I would eat and how I would eat and how much I would eat. And it became a very vicious cycle … I would skip meals or I would make myself throw up … I always knew it was wrong … I felt ashamed of it … But on the other hand, I felt it was my thing … It was something I could control. I felt that it gave me the power … a little bit of control of my life. The only part that I had that felt it was mine and not for anyone else to share it with.

Bobby, age 20, who came from Peru at age 3, whose mother was getting sicker at home from the inability to access or afford treatment for her cancer, turned to substance abuse and self-harm as ways to try to escape the reality of his mother’s condition and his inability to help her:

I got kicked out of school ‘cause I was smoking in school. “Smoking cigarettes or smoking pot?” Smoking pot. That was my escape back then … I was so stressed out and shit. I took 400 pills, I went to Walmart and stole 2 bottles of pills and shit and I took it and drank it with soda. I don’t know why I did that. I was trying to kill myself and went to the pool and tried to drown myself and I couldn’t.

While self-harm was not the norm for the majority of the interview participants, those who did internalize their anxiety, feelings of inadequacy, fear, and sadness without better outlets or sources of support saw substance abuse and self-harm as escape mechanisms. Bobby admitted that smoking in school “was my escape you can say.” He continued:

Back then, I used to not care about myself in a way. I was just there. I felt like my existence was meaningless.” “Why?” I don’t know. I felt like I was shit. I felt like in terms of the government, I was shit.

At the core of the dismantling of one’s sense of ontological security is that a person’s confidence and trust in the social and material environment that they know to be true is severely undermined. Seeing no hope for a positive resolution to their status, these immigrants transform their existential angst into attempts to fail to exist—literally resulting in self-harm, including attempts to take their own lives.

Max, age 22, who came from Argentina at age 10, started smoking, like many adolescents, as a social activity with friends. However, he shares with us that he began chain smoking because it gave him an illusion of authority over his own life—he controlled it and nobody could obligate him to stop. Pablo, age 31, who came from Mexico at 13, began drinking because he wanted “to feel good and forget about things.” Pablo, who is married with children, was facing an order of deportation for the Friday after we interviewed him and explained to us the pain that this was causing him and his family. His daughter was cutting herself with her own nails, something they found out when the school called their home to report her behavior.

These coping strategies suggest that self-harming behaviors are young adults’ efforts to exert agency over their situations. They are also forms of escape and give an illusion of control. Given their perceived and real limited life chances, they come to realize that there is one thing that their undocumented status cannot hinder—the ability to harm their bodies and, in some cases, to cease to exist; this brings into alignment their feelings with their being—an embodiment of the feelings of nonexistence that the state bestows upon them that kills ontological security. Though such strategies may have made participants feel empowered, they were detrimental to their well-being. By far, the coping mechanism that yielded the greatest benefit came from social connections to other youth facing similar challenges.

Sustainable Coping Mechanisms: Social Connections and Emotional Capital

One of the positive ways young immigrants cope with the emotions we have discussed is by seeking out and forming connections with others in similar situations. The S.I.N. (Students Informing Now) collective demonstrates that undocumented youth often network with one another in spaces that facilitate these encounters and use the sharing of personal testimony as a tool to both foster kinship and create a sense of community based on their shared experience of “illegality” (Negrón-Gonzales 2014; S.I.N. 2007). Local opportunities to become involved in immigrant-related organizations proved to be a positive outlet.

Active members in immigrant rights or advocacy groups reported joining for a variety of reasons. Most often a friend or family member who was already a member invited them. Others joined when they went to DACA clinics to receive assistance filing paperwork, and felt inspired to volunteer. And yet others, having received DACA, felt like they owed something to those who had advocated for this. Hugo falls into the latter group:

I got deferred action and I felt that I didn’t do anything to get deferred action. I didn’t go to any protests or come out or whatever rallies they had, I didn’t do the calls. So I felt like I didn’t deserve it. I felt like I didn’t fight for it so because of that it made me start questioning my life: … “What have I done to help my community?” … So I decided to get involved and into the organization.

Joining these organizations instills a sense of empowerment in participants, in addition to providing them with sources of social capital, which is one of the mechanism by which they attain emotional capital. Young adults make friends in these organizations and find people who have lived through similar experiences, fomenting social bonding. For Lucia, age 22, who migrated from Mexico at age 9, being a part of the immigrant rights movement added purpose to her life and gave her access to a network of support to which she could belong: “[Being part of the movement] I felt like I was part of something. Like I belonged. I met so many DREAMers all over the states, so I didn’t feel alone.” The friendships they made in the movement were people they could turn to in their most desperate hours and these relationships were sources of acceptance and validation. Undocumented youth feel less isolated when they identify with others in similar circumstances (Gonzales et al. 2013; S.I.N. 2007).

For many like Lucia, these organizations draw them out of their homes and other potentially isolating spaces to share in a community of individuals striving for common goals. Hugo shared with us he had contemplated suicide on a couple of occasions, mostly due to the blocked opportunities he faced because of his undocumented status. When we asked Hugo how he had felt growing up in this country, he answered:

I shouldn’t feel this way … like I don’t count as much. It has affected me that way. I feel I don’t count. “Do you believe it?” I don’t believe it but it’s what I feel. I can’t control what I feel but I don’t believe it. I believe I can do anything I want if I set my mind to it; I believe we are all the same; I believe we shouldn’t be treated differently because of our color, race, or gender. So, I don’t believe it but I feel that constraint that society puts in minorities especially.

In this quote, Hugo discusses how he struggled to empower himself—he felt like he was worthless. Hugo’s involvement with others in an immigrant rights organization gave him the tools to assert his voice and the will to counteract negative emotions. The organization and people in it provided him with emotional capital. He explained:

I used to be a negative person definitely. I used to look at all the bad but lately, since I started going out and meeting people and just being more outgoing, I see the positive in everything. I crashed my truck the other day and was like, “Well, it happens. Now I have the chance to sell it and buy a new car or whatever.” I’m more positive now.

Hugo admits he still has moments when he is sad, where he does not “see the light at the end of the tunnel.” But then he explains the positive effects of his social relationships:

After I see my mom or if I talk to my mom or … talk to my friends, if I go to a rally, it goes away real fast. Now I have a network of friends so I can always call them up and tell them my problems and they are like, “No, no, no, don’t worry too much about it.” They are certain that everything will be alright. “And if not, you always got us.” That’s always good.

The relationships that organizations facilitate are not just sources of social capital, but are transformed into emotional capital and provide the kind of support and strength needed to fight off negative thoughts that stem from being undocumented. Although we have gone to some length to describe Hugo’s experiences, his are representative of the benefits of immigrant organizations to participants’ emotional well-being that we heard from those who were involved.

Key to emotional well-being is the process of empowerment that comes through acceptance by others, as in Kathy’s case:

It felt really good to meet other people in my position. Because of the fact that I didn’t really have a lot of friends who were undocumented. I was a lone ranger and I felt no one really understood how I felt or what I was going through. So getting to meet people and seeing that we shared a lot of things. It felt good to know I wasn’t alone.

Kathy’s case (and others’) demonstrates how emotional and social well-being are intrinsically related (cf. Falci and McNeely 2009) through the concept of emotional capital. Social well-being, as the ability and opportunity to develop close social relations with those around them, can help undocumented youth accumulate emotional capital by facilitating a process of resocialization by which patterns of negative talk and feelings are transformed into positive outlooks and emotions. Emotional capital helps those suffering to recast negative emotions into positive ones through the social bonding that ensues when immigrants recognize they are not alone in their struggles.

The positive effects of emotional capital as a mechanism for well-being are as important as what generates them—social connection and social well-being. Among immigrants, and in particular among young adult immigrants, social well-being has been suggested to relate to long-term happiness, life satisfaction, a sense of belonging, mental health, and educational outcomes, as well as lower likelihood of drug use (e.g., Herrero and Gracia 2011). It also is key for individual, interpersonal, and emotional development, which in turn can improve health and economic prospects (De Feyter and Winsler 2009). The social well-being generated through interconnectedness with others in similar situations acts to mitigate negative emotional states and dwindling ontological security by instilling a greater reservoir of emotional capital. Developing caring relationships and the emotional capital these engender help undocumented young adults restore a sense of normalcy and humanity in their lives. It helps them regain ontological security and trust generally.

We identified others who, not involved with immigrant organizations, also benefited from kinship ties as sources of emotional capital that helped them through the trials of undocumented life. However, it was involvement in organized groups that provided the most meaningful and tangible impact. In this case, immigrant advocacy groups provided undocumented young adults with “secondary socialization of emotions” (Cahill 1999:113). It was not just a conduit to establish supporting relationships; it also was a mechanism that gave some a broader purpose for which to live, to be empowered, and the tools to do so. Rather than their undocumented status being a liability, in this context, it served as a source of solidarity with others working for a greater cause. The relationships they formed and the greater cause gave them tangible ways of channeling their emotional capital into their lives and advocacy work. As such, we see that connections to organizations can restore feelings of ontological security—these immigrants come to trust that individuals in these organizations, and the organizations themselves, will in turn, stand up to protect them.

In the process of building social relationships and emotional capital, secondary effects of organizational membership ensued. The organization empowered them to recognize that, individually, they were not to blame for their situations; they recognized their struggles are linked to systemic societal issues. We see this with Natalia, who explains that community organizing is

what keeps me going. It makes me feel empowered. It helps me get out of any feelings of sadness. I feel there is a greater issue that I have to take care of it. It helps [me] get out of it and snap back into a more positive mood.

Youth such as Natalia engage in civic work to bring about positive social change and to find meaning in life.

Activism in immigrant organizations has positive benefits for them individually that carry over into other areas of their lives, as we see with Jenny, age 23, who came from Venezuela at age 13, who also identifies as LGBTQ. She related that what we argue is emotional capital resulted in a greater sense of resilience that emerged from her involvement in the immigrant rights movement: “My mom used to tell me that I used to get mad easily and very angry … that is basically kind of the barrier that doesn’t allow me to be as happy as I could be.” She explains, though, that this seemed to change when she joined the immigrant rights movement: “This has saved my life. This has changed my life. It’s made me who I am today.” Moreover, when Jenny stated that her involvement in the immigrant rights movement saved her life, she also was referring to having found acceptance in this group in light of having come out as a member of the LGBTQ community. For LGBTQ youth in particular, membership in advocacy groups that accepted their multifaceted identities created a haven in which to share their experiences and fears. This network became recognized as a separate “movement family” that offered support they did not always receive at home. This movement family can often be more hospitable than their biological families given the prejudices against LGBTQ lifestyles that may persist in their families.

In sum, within the range of coping strategies and mechanisms that improve emotional well-being, building social connections, especially those that helped network them into organizations supportive of their identities, provided them with a place to belong. These relationships and the organizational backing provided social support, engendered social well-being, and strengthened their emotional capital, helping them to cope with their suffering by turning it into work on behalf of their immigrant communities and to restore in themselves a sense of self-worth and a greater purpose in life.

DISCUSSION

Undocumented legal status results in emotional challenges that fall upon immigrants during adolescence and as they transition to adulthood. Such emotions range from frustration, sadness, and depression to feelings of fear, anxiety, shame, and insecurity about their existence, their future, and their well-being. Young immigrants find positive ways to cope with their emotions, but they also resort to negative coping strategies. Among the positive actions they take is becoming involved in immigrant advocacy organizations, which provide them with the benefits of social networks and social capital, a space to come together with others in similar situations, and a movement in which they can form meaningful social connections (e.g., S.I.N. 2007). These settings provide them with safe spaces to belong that allow them to be themselves and help them build their emotional capital by resocializing them to channel negative emotions into positive ones. This involved newfound feelings of empowerment and a greater sense of agency and self-efficacy.

As many have argued, the transition to adulthood is critical as it sets the path that many will follow when it comes to their incorporation into the labor market and U.S. society in general (Gonzales 2011; Rumbaut and Komaie 2010). If the structural constraints related to their status erode their ontological security, this could, in turn, paralyze and even marginalize them in pursuits to social mobility to the point where they question the merits of their own existence. Their emotional states could have spiraling effects, such that if they are depressed and unmotivated, their dispositions could jeopardize their abilities to combat barriers to incorporation, beyond the limitations that they already face due to their undocumented status. In a meritocratic society (at least in terms of ideology), not fulfilling their aspirations may result in self-blame at best, and at worst, loss of the will to live. Finding ways to build up emotional capital is critical to their empowerment and to restoring their sense of ontological security.

Having examined the range of emotions that undocumented young adults experience, and how their lack of legal status erodes feelings of ontological security, one thing is clear: we must improve the mechanisms by which immigrants can redirect their existential angst into positive and sustainable coping strategies. This may involve supporting organizations that aim to meet their needs and advocate on their behalf, or establishing other outlets, whether they be kinship or religion, to reestablish the feelings of safety and trust that often are lost as undocumented subjects.

Programs such as DACA are important, but only long-term immigration reform that allows full incorporation and citizenship and protects all members of a family will enable young adults to find their place in this country and come to develop trust in U.S. social institutions and their representatives. In the meantime, more efforts and resources should be directed at building safe spaces for undocumented youth to belong and build trusted social connections, particularly during their often troubled middle and high school years. Our research suggests that when undocumented young adults engage in immigrant advocacy organizations or other groups of peers, they are able to activate new and productive coping strategies. Engaging with these groups appears to be just one particularly effective way for undocumented youth to develop sustainable and positive coping strategies.

We conclude with a word of caution. Becoming involved in immigrant organizations should not be thought as the single best cure for all negative emotional states described above. In fact, it is possible that, in some cases, participating in these organizations could tax their emotional well-being. There are potential risks, such as hefty organizational responsibilities, hectic schedules, unwanted or unexpected public exposure, or the risk of being detained or arrested that accompany community organizing and advocacy work. While we do not question the many positive effects on emotional and social well-being, further research should consider the benefits of participating in these organizations in tandem with potential burdens to the undocumented young adults living in the United States.

The authors thank Pamela Gomez for conducting a portion of the interviews and helping with the recruitment of participants. They would also like to extend their gratitude to the editor and the anonymous reviewers for their valuable and constructive feedback.

1 Pau identifies as queer and transgender, therefore we use the pronouns “they” and “their.”