黑料门

In 1979, when Aurora Chang was 5 years old, she fled with her family from Guatemala to California. Her parents鈥攖he first in their families to attend college鈥攈ad three children and another on the way. They were in their early-30s, spoke little English, and were in the process of burning through a temporary American visa. 

Chang鈥攏ow an assistant professor and program chair at 黑料门University Chicago鈥檚 School of Education鈥攚as too young to comprehend fully the legal limbo into which she was thrust. In her book, The Struggles of Identity, Education, and Agency in the Lives of Undocumented Students, she describes herself as 鈥渁n immigrant girl with big dreams and often debilitating anxiety.鈥� To cope, Chang fashioned herself the quintessential 鈥済ood girl,鈥� obedient and self-effacing, and set about officiating 鈥渁ll of the mundane, yet necessary, rites for everyday survival.鈥� She acted as sous chef in her mother鈥檚 kitchen鈥攕etting the table and washing dishes, rolling masa for empanadas. She would accompany her parents on medical appointments and teacher conferences. By the time she entered elementary school, filling out forms was second nature. 

Chang鈥檚 quest for academic achievement, meanwhile, 鈥渨as the one thing that made everything in my life feel stable and secure.鈥� After high school, she studied English at the University of California, Berkeley, and earned her doctorate at the University of Texas at Austin, enrolling at the most prestigious schools that would accept her. Despite becoming a naturalized citizen in 1991, she never lost the urgency to acquire and produce as much documentation as possible. 鈥淚 always had to do more, to be the best,鈥� she says. 鈥淓ducation really tapped into that mania.鈥� For Chang, diplomas held the promise of indemnity. 

Teaching at Loyola, and preparing students to work in urban public schools, represents something of a homecoming for Chang, who grew up Catholic and identifies deeply with the University鈥檚 mission and immigrant advocacy. (When Chang鈥檚 mother learned of her appointment, she was beside herself with joy.)  

On the 11th floor of Lewis Tower, Chang can be her most authentic self. That level of comfort has helped focus her theoretical writing, which draws heavily on her intense adolescence. In spots, the book is bracingly personal; narrating her own story, she contends, is a weapon against injustice. 

Published in 2018, Chang鈥檚 book carries the subtitle 鈥淭he Burden of Hyperdocumentation.鈥� She defines that term as 鈥渁 person鈥檚 excessive production of documents, texts, and papers in an effort to compensate for a feeling of unworthiness.鈥� After surveying years of national research on the identity and agency of undocumented college students, and then conducting her own qualitative studies of students who identified as undocumented or once undocumented, Chang concludes that undocumented students find themselves on continuously shifting ground. They want to undercut pervasive stereotypes. They must also make strategic decisions constantly, about what they share and how they present themselves publicly, for their own safety and sanity.  

The mad scramble for academic and civic perfection in the face of xenophobia and legal uncertainty is both a goal unto itself and a survival strategy, one that takes courage and stamina to pursue. 鈥淎t times, students were immobilized by fear, risk, challenge, silence, and defeat,鈥� Chang writes. 鈥淎nd at other times, they were propelled by courage, responsibility, community, choice, and hope.鈥� 

Her research produced two key insights: that educators have a 鈥減articularly poignant role in impacting undocumented students鈥� lives,鈥� and that those students are rarely 鈥渟eeking legal advice or even practical suggestions; they seek to be heard attentively.鈥� Chang acknowledges the 鈥渟tress, hopelessness, sleepless nights, food scarcity, and financial need鈥� that her undocumented students wear heavily, issuing 鈥渃omplaints of stomach pains, never-ending colds, and unwavering anxiety.鈥�  

鈥淎t times, students were immobilized by fear, risk, challenge, silence, and defeat. And at other times, they were propelled by courage, responsibility, community, choice, and hope.鈥�

- Aurora Chang

Both in her classroom and in her office, she tries to be present and sensitive to those students and the distinct pressures they encounter. She serves on the DREAMer Committee, a University-wide working group that supports Loyola鈥檚 DACA students. She鈥檚 led seminars on Chicano feminism and on students who entered the United States illegally. On a personal level, she鈥檚 walked many individuals through the labyrinth bureaucracy of higher education: developing research questions, writing reflections or college applications, researching scholarship funding, 鈥渄iscussing the political despair of the day.鈥� She also checks in with her students about their well-being鈥攑hysical and mental鈥攁s often as she remembers to. 

In the coming year, Chang will write another book in the same vein as her first, a testimonial inflected with her own biography. The new topic is multiracial identity, a salient theme in a rapidly diversifying country. With her unorthodox approach (at least within the academy), Chang is debunking 鈥渢he myth that research need be a blank canvas.鈥� And in this socially volatile moment, she鈥檒l leave her door open for 黑料门students of all stripes who need guidance and validation.  

鈥淓ducation is hope,鈥� she says. 鈥淚f you don鈥檛 have that, there鈥檚 no reason to get up in the morning.鈥�