By Victoria Prince

A day spent undocumented can be compared to a day spent walking on eggshells.

“Growing up, when I was little, around 14, it kind of made me nervous,” says 21 year-old undocumented migrant Melvin. “Walking next to or near cops, I thought that they would see you and just read it on your face, like ‘illegal’ written across your forehead. But then, you kind of get used to it, you know?”

Melvin came to Ireland with his mother in 2006 from the small island country of Mauritius. Ever since, getting “used to it” seems to be the only way young people like Melvin can cope with their situation and the difficulty of transitioning from one life to another. 

Even though he’s told a few of his closest friends about his undocumented status, he still finds it hard to socialise with peers who are going off to college, or working – things that Melvin does not have access to because of his lack of papers.

He compares his life to being stuck in “limbo”, unable to leave Ireland but also unable to grow within it.

Stuck in limbo

It’s an issue many undocumented youths face, as when they get older they have to confront what many described as the fear and hopelessness that goes along with not being able to foresee the futures they dream about. 

Melvin spoke candidly about how these feelings affected him when he was younger. “I’ve been stuck in limbo all the time, [and] you get fed up. It’s desperate. It’s like… there’s a lot of suicidal thoughts at times, growing up. When you see no future, what’s the point of living then? If you can’t go to college, you can’t work…”

However, Melvin’s continuous participation in his community’s youth centre has helped him get through these dark times. He’s found a way to cope with his feelings through music and creative writing.

Whether he’s teaching younger children the guitar or going home and writing a new song, he says it gives him purpose.  “Even though you can’t grow on the outside world, on the inside, you can build, you can improve,” he says. “Playing an instrument, I have nothing but time on my hands – that gets me through it.”

Not alone

A few months ago Melvin became a part of the Migrant Right Centre Ireland’s (MRCI) new youth group, Young, Paperless, and Powerful, which brought together young undocumented people to create a short video sharing their stories while also creating a mural of their own design.

Speaking about the experience of meeting fellow undocumented youths, many of whom were younger than him, Melvin says: “It’s a privilege. They’re really strong, and they don’t even know it. They’re really resilient. They kind of encourage you – like, who am I to give up when they’re not giving up? So like, let’s work together.” 

If the MRCI has done anything for these undocumented teenagers, Melvin believes, it’s shown them that they are not alone – whether it’s finally sharing their immigration stories or simply enjoying each other’s company at a pizza party, with no reason to hide their background when they’re together.

But the most important thing young, undocumented people can do is stay positive, he says – explaining that that’s something that comes as one gets older and realises that the fear and hopelessness internalised is no way to live, and eventually has to be let go.

“You know where you belong. I know I belong here,” he says. “I’m connected to this city. I usually take long walks, I walk the nights, the days, everything like. I’ve seen the good and the bad. I’ve seen it all, I’ve felt it all. I know the people. I’m proud to be a part of the people that I know.”