The Promise My Mom Fought for, I Now Carry Forward
Ariela Lara, youth plaintiff in Venner v. EPA.
June 23, 2026
By Ariela Lara
My mom came to the United States from San Martín Huamelulpam, a small pueblo in Oaxaca, México, more than 35 years ago. She came because she was told, by family, by friends, by the news, that America was the place to go to build something better. She came for opportunity. She came for the dream that so many immigrants are promised when they make that journey. She came for what this country calls life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. She believed those words were meant for her too.
When she arrived in the United States, she got to work. She worked in hotels. She worked in restaurants. She went back to college for child development because none of her credits from México transferred, learning an entirely new language while doing it. She did all of this in a country that didn't always make room for her. Cashiers who wouldn’t accept her order because they couldn't understand her. Workplaces that gave her more hours without pay because they knew she couldn't say no.
She endured all of it and kept going. She believed that somewhere on the other side of all that sacrifice was an America that would keep its promise to her children.
Over 20 years ago, my mom bought her first home. When she talks about it, she glows with a love and sincerity that leaves me in awe. It's something so many people take for granted. For her, it was a life's work. And even after everything it cost her, her first instinct was to show up for the people around her. I have this memory of being eight years old, trailing behind her as she went door to door with tamales, just wanting to feed her neighbors. I remember getting bored waiting while she chatted with everyone. Now I look back on it as one of the most beautiful things I've ever witnessed.
But no matter how much we achieve, it can never make you fully safe. I think about the morning we sat together and watched a video of a woman being arrested by ICE at the San Francisco airport, just as we were about to travel to visit family in Oaxaca. My mom and I looked at each other with fear and I said, please, let's print out all your documents. We weren't even sure we were going to get on our flight. Unsure if we would make it back home.
People talk about immigrants in terms of policy and politics. They forget our humanity. They don't realize it's my mom going door to door with tamales, treating her neighbors with care. They don't realize it's a mom and daughter leaning against each other watching a video, in fear of our government.
What I know is this: The values I learned from my family in San Martín Huamelulpam run deep. No matter where I was, I'd get offers of té, café, and desserts because in the Pueblo, I was a niece or daughter. No matter who it was, they were my tío and tía. It’s a place where people show up for each other without being asked, grounded in care, community, and belonging. My family has lived by those values every single day. But I am watching a government that is doing the opposite, that is actively choosing to put children's lives at risk, to endanger our health, to turn its back on the people it was created to protect.
Those are not the promises America says it was founded on. The Declaration promised something different: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for everyone living on its soil. The Constitution gave us the tools to hold our own government to that. That's what I'm doing in court. That's what brought me to Venner v. EPA.
Ariela Lara speaking at a climate rally in 2026. Photo by Sarahbeth Maney.
When you grow up breathing air thick with pollution, when your asthma flares and you're sitting in class wondering why it's harder to breathe near the bus stop than anywhere else, you start connecting dots that no one connected for you. The pollution in my lungs and the pollution in my community are not accidents. They are the result of decades of choices by fossil fuel corporations that have extracted from Black, brown, and low-income communities for generations, and by a government that has decided our lives and our health are an acceptable cost.
In February 2026, the EPA erased the scientific finding that greenhouse gas pollution threatens public health. A determination that took years of rigorous science to build was dismantled in less than six months, not because the science changed but because an executive order from President Trump told them to. At the same time, they eliminated all greenhouse gas emission standards for cars and trucks that had been in place since 2012.
I joined this case because silence is not an option. Young people, especially those of us who can't vote yet, deserve a place to raise our voices and be heard. What the EPA did is not just a policy decision. It is a threat to my life, to my ability to breathe, and to the lives of people I love. And it is a violation of my constitutional rights, which is exactly what I am in court to defend.
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Those words mean something to me. They mean being able to breathe clean air. They mean imagining a future that is healthy and secure. They mean that the promise of this country should apply to everyone living under its laws, regardless of age, race, income, or immigration status.
July 4th will be complicated for me this year. It's hard to celebrate when immigrant families are living in fear and young people are fighting for their lives. But I think about what this country says it stands for. And I think those promises are still worth fighting for. My hope is that one day they are fully recognized and that our constitutional rights are upheld.
My mom left everything she knew to give her future family a chance. I'm in court to make sure that chance means something. For her. For my community. For every young person who deserves better than what we're being given right now.
We all deserve better. My mom showed me what it looks like to work for that. I will continue to carry her bravery forward.
*Donate by July 10th, 2026, to qualify for a free t-shirt.