America must open its arms to those who dream

The American dream is not about things, it's about "ganas" (desire) to seek a better life for your loved ones. And it's reinvigorated with each new wave of immigrants, starting with those who founded this nation. It's about the willingness to work, to risk and to dream.

I'm afraid the president, in his rush to court the Hispanic vote with a new immigration policy, has stirred the melting pot with an old bone. What troubles me most are the false hopes given to those who still have "ganas" but will be hurt in the end. The tragedy of making public policy in the insulated walls of the White House is that you don't see the faces of those affected by the policy.

Let me show you a few.

While with the U.S. Department of Labor, I had the opportunity to visit farm labor workers across the nation. For me, it became a very emotional and inspirational journey. In each camp, whether in Florida, Texas, Arizona or California, I saw the face of my father, a century ago, whose only desire to come to America was to seek a better life for his family. In each camp of Mexican immigrants I asked the same question: Why did you come to America? The answer was the same: "To find work for my family and get away from the corruption."

Like my father, they didn't come for a handout. They came to seek a better life

While speaking to a group of professionals in a beautiful Spanish hacienda in San Diego, I could barely hold back the tears. Earlier, I spent two days seeing first-hand how immigrants lived while seeking work. The contrast was heartbreaking. On the one side, I could see the lush greens of the Rancho la Costa resort. On the hills were million-dollar condos, and in the ditches next to I-5 were cardboard tents where Mexican immigrants lived while seeking work.

As I listened to immigrants, they all spoke of their desire to find work so they could help their families, but most emotional, for me, was to drive the next morning on the same highway and see strings of men, clean, standing on the highway waiting for people seeking day labor to pick them up for a day's pay. I imagined my father standing in that crowd with nothing more than the shirt on his back, a bag of "pinole" (ground corn), but with ganas (desire) to find the American dream for his family.