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Veronica |
By Nancy Lopez
Let's call her Veronica. I met with her at an Alameda coffeehouse near the Island apartment she has rented with her girlfriend for the last two years.
Her orange hoodie highlighted her dark skin. She spoke softly — her voice wary, calm and resigned. Around her arms were beaded bracelets.
Under a brown fedora, Veronica’s hair is cut close to her scalp; she recently donated her hair in honor of a friend with cancer. At 5-foot-7 and with an athletic build, it's not surprising that Veronica played soccer and volleyball in college.
But unlike most of her friends who graduated and went on to work at “regular jobs," Veronica has worked under the table as a nanny for the last five years, ever since she left college in 2005, two courses shy of a degree.
When Veronica's student visa lapsed six years ago, she got a job babysitting. Since then, she has built up a loyal clientele. Now she works regularly for four families.
“I’ve always been a natural with kids,” Veronica said. “They’re drawn to me and I’m drawn to them.”Veronica measures her words when she speaks. She aims, she says, to always “mean what I say and say what I mean.”
“I can, as normally as possible, support myself."
Straight talk can be a challenge, though: there are many aspects of her life she has a difficult time explaining. The details of her legal situation are complicated and painful to talk about.
“I don’t have a way of starting or growing a career. I don’t pay taxes. I don’t pay into retirement funds. I’m not moving forward in terms of what socially you’re expected to do,” Veronica said.