Julio Cesar Perez
I didn't learn the immigration system in law school. I lived it. I watched my parents — humble, hardworking people — hand their trust to "notarios" who took advantage of them. I was maybe ten years old, and I still remember the feeling in my chest watching somebody prey on my family. I didn't have the words for it yet. I just knew: I have to do something about this.
It took me 34 years to become a citizen of the country I grew up in. I finished college before I ever held a work permit, watching opportunities pass to classmates who never had to think about it. I was doing everything right — more right than most — and still being told to wait. That frustration never made me bitter. It made me an advocate.
Before I ever put "attorney" in front of my name, I was running naturalization workshops at a nonprofit — a hundred people a month, sometimes hundreds in a weekend. By now I've helped thousands of people navigate this system: workers, parents, students, and people who fled the unimaginable to ask this country for refuge. In every one of them I see what I saw at my parents' kitchen table — gratitude, humility, hard work, and respect.
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