Though it passed with bipartisan support in the House, opponents argued that the newcomers would take jobs from citizens and strain the nation’s schools and health-care system, and the bill died in the Senate. No votes have been held since 2010. Obama salvaged parts of that legislation two years later for his “Consideration of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals” (DACA) executive order. It states that immigrants who were under age 31 on June 15, 2012, had come to the United States before age 16, had continuously resided in the U.S. for five years, and were currently in school, graduated high school or served in the U.S. military, among other criteria, could be pro-
1 in 8 Asian immigrants is
undocumented (about 1.3 million total), according to AAPI Data at University of California, Riverside.
tected from deportation and receive a work permit. Obama’s November 2014 executive order extended DACA renewal from every two years to every three years and broadened the number of youth who could qualify. The $465 renewal cost, however, is prohibitive to many immigrants, and citizenship is still off the table. In Maryland, the General Assembly proposed and passed its own Dream Act in 2011, focused on higher education only. But opponents—including Democrats, as the issue didn’t split along party lines—collected more than 60,000 signatures, enough to turn it into a referendum before voters in the next election. “Many of our state’s colleges and universities are filled to capacity with students, as enrollment has spiked during our country’s economic struggles,” wrote Democratic Baltimore County Del. Joseph Minnick in the Dundalk Patch in 2012. “Working adults are flocking back to the classroom to boost their resumes while they’re unemployed or underemployed. Lecture hall seats should be available to them—legal residents—rather than undocumented men and women.” (Today, Minnick no longer objects to in-state tuition for undocumented students.) UMD President Wallace Loh, a Chinese-Peruvian immigrant himself, was a vocal supporter of the Maryland Dream Act. “We know that education is the great equalizer in our democracy. It is the passport to social and economic mobility,” he wrote in The Washington Post before the vote. After educating K–12 students, “it is a waste of investment and talent to then slam the door on those with the ability and motivation—but limited money—to go to college.” // Living in the Shadows //
For some undocumented students, education is more than an equalizer. Amid constant fear of deportation—when, where, how?—it can be a lifeline, something they can control. “Just imagine, you’re going to school, and at home, your parents might get deported,” says Steven, a chemical engineer-
24 TERP .UMD.EDU
ing major. “They might call you up in the middle of an exam and say, ‘That’s it, we’ve made it as far as we can. It’s up to you now.’ It’s a scary thought.” Since 2000, the Department of Homeland Security has removed more than 4.1 million individuals who were in the country illegally—including the parents of December biochemistry graduate James D’Souza*. He was just a year old when they brought him to the U.S. to escape violent religious clashes in India. For their first 12 years in Maryland, he says, “we lived what people refer to as the American dream.” As asylum seekers, they got Social Security numbers and work permits, so James’ father waited tables at highend restaurants in Washington, D.C., and his mother taught computer science at a community college. His younger brother was born an American citizen, and eventually, they bought a house. But their case was ultimately denied in 2006, after several appeals. Three years later, a broken taillight alerted authorities and brought immigration officials to their home. They arrested James’ father, then sent him from detention center to detention center for months before deporting him. His mother was given a year’s reprieve to sell their house and find a place for her children to live. She was tracked with an ankle bracelet and required to regularly report to the immigration center in Baltimore, before she, too, was deported. (Had they managed to stay another five years, they would have qualified under Obama’s new executive order that gives parents with American-citizen children three-year reprieves.) “It was the toughest time of my life,” James says, “to see my mom have to go through what she did. She was treated like an animal.” He told no one, concerned that his friends and teachers would judge or reject him. Instead, he focused his energy on the nine Advanced Placement classes he took his junior and senior years. It wasn’t until his own deportation loomed that he started to share his story. Elsa Garcia* ’16, whose family also fled Colombia to escape political instability, kept quiet too, choosing to throw herself into activities like class council and the school paper. It finally hit her during senior year that her lack of official immigration papers made her different. “I was kind of in denial,” she says. “When I heard my friends say they were applying to college here and there, it made me play along. I never doubted I would continue my education, but at some point it did become really real that going to a four-year institution was not going to happen.” // No FAFSA, No Future //
The key reason students like Elsa couldn’t imagine going to UMD before the Maryland Dream Act is this: The average cost of four years’ tuition ranges from $35,000 at in-state public institutions to more than $120,000 at private institutions, according to the College Board. Nationally, most college students—about two-thirds— qualify for some sort of financial aid, including grants, loans or work-study. * NAME CHANGED TO PROTECT STUDENT’S IDENTITY