It was Independence Day and a young Victor Altamirano was getting a little paranoid.
“Are we supposed to be here?” he asked his parents as they walked along. “Are we allowed to be here? It’s a 4th of July fair. We’re not citizens and we’re celebrating the 4th of July.”
His parents reassured their son, but Altamirano was still skeptical.
“I was waiting in line for this ride, and I’m waiting for somebody to pull me out of line,” Altamirano laughed, reflecting on the day of fireworks, family, and food. “I wish they had, because I threw up after that ride.”
Altamirano was largely more nervous than his parents when it came to their undocumented statuses, but overall there was a sense of comfort during his childhood. They weren’t always undocumented, so life before and after that change didn’t seem that different.
A freak accident changes the course
Altamirano still remembers the culture shock when he arrived in Denison, Texas at age 9 – the good and the bad. There was so much green, a stark contrast to the grayness of Mexico City pavement, which he loved just as much. His family had their own yard and could walk down the street without encountering any other people – let alone any danger. Mind-blowing.
There were no all-night food trucks, but there was a 24/7 Walmart. He missed the smells of hot dogs and hamburgers and tacos, and the sounds of the bustling city life.
The culture was much different, as Altamirano attested to by pointing out the people in his 22,000-person Texas city didn’t know what a churro was when he moved there. That said, Altamirano quickly assimilated into American culture with relative ease.
He grew to miss Mexico City in a nostalgic sense, but there was no sadness in the 9-year-old Altamirano around the time of his international trek. In fact, he was elated. Leaving family, friends, and familiarity behind would bother most kids, but not Altamirano. He was going to see his parents, who he hadn’t seen in months
“In my head, we were going to come back,” Altamirano said. “As far as we knew, after a few months, we were going to come back. In my head, I wasn’t thinking about staying there.”
Little did he know, he wouldn’t be back in Mexico for 22 years because of life’s curveballs. Altamirano’s father made his way to the United States on a work visa months prior to working as an electrician. The plan was to pocket some cash so the family could move out of their grandmother’s house where they had been living.
That’s when the happy American Dream turned into a nightmare. While working in the attic of a multi-story house one day, Altamirano’s father fell from his ladder and smacked on concrete. He was essentially broken upon impact.
“He had to have reconstructive surgery and in both of his arms, his shoulder blades, his spine,” Altamirano said. “He broke pretty much almost all of his lumbar vertebrae and both of his arms, all of his shoulder blades, his hands. He had to be in the hospital for months. He could not come back. He was in the hospital for such a long time for preparing for surgery, for surgery, for therapy that it took longer than what he planned to come back. … He couldn’t really leave the states because of all the therapies that he had to go through throughout the years. It was such a bad accident that it was years of constant therapy and rehabilitation for him to be OK. So we decided we might as well begin and start some life here while we’re going through all this.”
At the time of the accident, Altamirano’s father was solo in the States. He didn’t have any blood relatives there to assist, but his in-laws helped with his care. Eventually, Altamirano’s mother made the journey, and a few weeks later her children followed.
Life seemed normal at first. Altamirano heard his parents talk about documentation, but had no idea what it meant. He felt like all of the documented children – until he hit high school. That’s when things changed and differences budded.
Paperwork issues
Somewhere along the lines, the Altamirano family’s visas expired. Due to his father’s health issues (which eventually subsided later on), the decision was made to continue living in the United States illegally.
Denison was a city almost as far away from the Mexico border and as close to the Oklahoma border as possible. Immigration prevalence wasn’t near what it was in the southern part of the state. Despite the lack of Mexican influence, the community treated Altamirano no differently.
“They were very welcoming, very nice, very gracious,” Altamirano said. “I can tell you that fortunately, I have never experienced racism in my life. Unfortunately, some people have. But I can tell you that I’m fortunate enough that I haven’t.”
The laws, however, weren’t as relaxed as the people. Around 16, social issues emerged fast and furiously. Altamirano sat by idly as his friends got their permits, then licenses; first jobs, then promotions; college acceptances, then college degrees. The world moved and Altamirano remained stuck in time.
“That’s when I realized I was undocumented,” Altamirano said. “That’s when I realized, ‘Oh sh*t. I can’t just get a driver’s license. I can’t just get a job. I can’t just move forward in life unless I do it illegally, unless I have to forge some documents.’”
With no license and no identification, Altamirano remembers nearly every invitation ending in a feeling of disappointment – from paint-balling to driving to the beach. Every year, things seemed to get worse. There was no path forward, only sideways.
“You can only go so far if you’re undocumented,” Altamirano said. “Those who are undocumented and are living that life right now, they do the best they can. They do the best they can because at the end of the day they do it for their family and not them. It’s really cool to see that, but growing up and realizing that’s where I was heading, at such a young age, I said, ‘Now, I would like more for myself. This can’t be it. This can’t be how I’m growing up. I’ve seen my friends applying for colleges. I’ve seen my friends beginning to drive and getting their new jobs.’ Turning 18, 19, 20, moving out, I’m like, ‘F*ck, man, what do I need to do?’”
That’s when he figured out a saving grace was in front of him all along.
MMA: A saving grace
He couldn’t travel far. He couldn’t paintball. He couldn’t go to college. With all of this in mind, Altamirano went full force into the world that didn’t care about his status: martial arts.
From a young age, Altamirano trained. During his period of uncertainty from age 16-20, he turned it up a notch because the gym was the one place where paperwork didn’t matter. He could be equal. He could be Victor Altamirano.
“I had already been in martial arts for over half my life because it was the only thing that didn’t require me to have these legal documents to compete and move forward in life,” Altamirano said. “It was the only thing that allowed me to grow. It was the only arena and area that I was able to be somebody where I could use my own name and people recognized me and said, ‘Oh yeah, Victor is the winner of this tournament.’ It was the only arena in which I could remain me and go further. By the time I got legal status here, I was already way deep into martial arts.”
Relief
In 2012, things changed for Altamirano. The Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) act was implemented during the Obama Administration. Altamirano had obtained legal status. Relief.
“It was relieving, so relieving,” Altamirano recalled. “You have no idea how late you are to places when you have to drive the speed limit here in Texas. … It was relieving. I could apply to a job. I could apply to get an apartment. I could move out. I could do things. I could actually be someone in the world with ease.”
Altamirano made his amateur MMA debut in 2015. In 2017, he turned professional and in February 2021 he won the LFA flyweight championship, which earned him a spot on Dana White’s Contender Series. He capitalized on the opportunity and earned a UFC contract with a win over Carlos Candelario.
A powerful return
Twenty-two years after he and his siblings told their grandparents, aunts, and uncles goodbye for a quick excursion to Denison, Altamirano finally returned to Mexico City this past December.
The experience was “powerful,” Altamirano said, choking a little as he pinpointed the proper word to accurately encompass all of his emotions.
“It was very powerful, very moving to see where I came from, where I grew up, where my home used to be,” Altamirano said. “I was away for so long that I also considered Texas my home. It was just really wonderful to see my family after so many years still welcoming me. They were very heart-warmingly treating me like I never left.”
Fully loved and far from forgotten by his relatives across the border, Altamirano inspired them through his athletic feats and ability to overcome adversity.
The feelings of hope and inspiration Altamirano wants to open up others to – especially those who may not be blood relatives, but relate to him in a different way.
Sure, DACA was freeing – but MMA was the ultimate freer at a time when nothing else was. Altamirano would like to tell you he would’ve been a doctor or a lawyer if not for his lack of paperwork – but he admits that would be a lie. He never had ambition for those pursuits.
Recent deep thinking concluded that despite all of the challenges and roadblocks, Altamirano ended up right where he wanted to be, in the end.
“I think about what it would’ve been like if I just had the same opportunities from the get-go,” Altamirano said. “‘Would I still be doing this?’ I got the answer to that question after I got married and became a permanent resident here. Now, I have all the freedoms, except that I can’t vote yet. But I have all the freedoms everyone else has here now. Once I achieved that and realized, you know what? I would’ve done the same thing. Not because I could’ve done whatever I wanted to do this whole time, I’d still choose to do this. That’s when I knew that even if I had the same opportunities, I’d still be here.”
MMA was his passion and if there’s one silver lining of his journey, it’s that happiness will always provide a sense of freedom, when all else fails.
“If I was to tell others in similar situations something, I’d tell them, ‘Whatever obstacle or adversity you have in your life, it will always be easier if you do what you like.’”
Victor Altamirano returns Saturday at UFC 278 when he takes on Daniel Silva on the ESPN/ESPN+ prelims. The event takes place at Vivint Arena in Salt Lake City. For more on the card, visit MMA Junkie’s event hub for UFC 278.
