Life without DACA
After the 2021 halt in applications, many Dreamers’ dreams are set aside
Words by Yesenia Barrios, @YeseniaBC1230.
Wendy Rugerio, 20, was scrolling through Instagram, winding down on a summer night, when she saw a post that a Texas federal judge had halted all new Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA, applications.
It was July 2021, just a month before she was to move to Massachusetts to start her freshman year at Tufts University, and she was well aware of the implications the judge's orders would have on her future.
The DACA program, implemented by former President Barack Obama in 2012, protects from deportation more than 600,000 people who were brought to the U.S. as children. Other benefits include obtaining a Social Security number, being able to work legally in the U.S., obtaining a driver’s license, and the ability to pay in-state college tuition.
DACA has improved the life of thousands of young people, but that might change– current legal arguments will decide the fate of those who have already received DACA. DACA-related cases currently before the courts may also leave thousands of others who qualify, to navigate a political, social and economic path that makes it extremely hard to succeed. Undocumented youth will not only have to deal with arduous logistic challenges that come with being undocumented; they will also have to cope with the mental health effects of living in limbo.
Rugerio knows all about that limbo. She migrated to the U.S. when she was four years old and waited years before she could submit her DACA application. Prior to the summer 2021 ruling, she had had her biometrics appointment, the last step before getting work authorization.
‘I felt like I had lost control. I just felt like I had nothing left here.’
Without receiving her work permit, she would not be able to become a DACA recipient and access the rights that come with it.
“That is when I realized I did not have any control over it, that it meant I couldn’t get a Social Security number, I couldn’t properly work. I even had fears of not being able to go to college because of the financial restraints that come with that,” she said.
“I felt like I had lost control. I just felt like I had nothing left here.”
STUCK IN LIMBO
In September 2017, the Trump administration ordered U.S Citizenship and Immigration Services to stop accepting new DACA applications. Then, in June 2020, the Supreme Court ruled that the Trump administration’s termination of DACA was improper and ordered the Department of Homeland Security to review that executive action. Six months later, in December 2020, a federal judge ordered the administration to fully restore the program, and thousands of Dreamers began to submit their DACA applications.
“Dreamers” is the term used by undocumented youth to describe themselves after the Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors Act Bill was first introduced to Congress in 2001. The bill asks for conditional residency for people who were brought to the U.S illegally as children, it has failed to pass into law multiple times.
After last summer’s halt, Rugerio became one of the estimated 80,000 Dreamers stuck in limbo.
Juliana Macedo do Nascimento, a DACA recipient and deputy director of federal advocacy at United We Dream, the country’s largest youth-led immigrant grassroots organization, estimates that the number of eligible DACA recipients is significantly higher, considering those who were unable to apply during the Trump administration and the almost two years that have passed since he left office.
HESITANCY TO APPLY
Many people didn’t apply for DACA, even if they qualified when the process was available to first-time recipients. They were hesitant to submit personal information, fearing deportation. The Migration Institute estimated that more than 1,200,000 people qualified for DACA when applications first opened in 2012, but the actual number of applicants was under 900,000.
In addition, the process lacks clarity.
Alberto Hernández migrated to the U.S. from Mexico in 2003, when he was 15 years old. He relied on his father to help him navigate the educational system, but his father didn’t know how the often-complex system worked. Hernández thought his only option was to work under the table, as most undocumented immigrants do.
Since then, he’s worked in the hospitality industry in New York City, saving money toward his dream to attend college and become a nurse.
However, in July 2020, he started volunteering at Mixteca, a Brooklyn-based organization that helps the Mexican and Latin American immigrant communities.
There, in September 2020, a colleague told him he could qualify for DACA if he signed up to take the General Educational Development, or GED, tests. At that moment, Hernández realized his dream was reachable, and he took all the necessary steps to make sure he qualified.
“The whole time I thought you had to be in college in order to apply or qualify,” said Hernández, now 34. “I didn’t know you could apply while you were in high school or in the process of getting a GED.”
Unlike Hernández, Rugerio grew up learning the system. She joined SEO Scholars her freshman year at Richard R. Green High School of Teaching in New York City and had mentors who guided her toward universities that were undocumented-friendly and offered financial aid.
“I think what got me through was the support of SEO,” said Rugerio, who graduated as salutatorian. “If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have gone to Tufts on a full ride.”
IMPACT ON MENTAL HEALTH
The constant uncertainty Dreamers face can impact their mental health. Undocumented Mexican migrants are at higher risk of developing symptoms of anxiety and depression compared to the general population, according to a study in the Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology. In addition, their legal status doesn’t allow them to obtain insurance in most states, making treatment expensive.
Rugerio recalls her mental state during the summer of 2019 when Immigration and Customs Enforcement was conducting raids in NYC.
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“I spent that whole summer just being sad, crying, and just basically fearing for my life everywhere I went,” she said.
In September 2021, the Biden administration attempted to undo Trump’s harsh immigration approach and posted new guidelines directing ICE to focus on only arresting undocumented immigrants who pose a security threat. However, many states, including Texas, filed lawsuits soon after, defying these guidelines and asking ICE to target everyone who is in the U.S. illegally, including undocumented Dreamers. Last week, on July 21, the Supreme Court refused to reinstate the new guidelines until it hears Texas’ argument in December 2022.
Both Rugerio and Hernández have lost a number of opportunities due to their undocumented status. Hernández was offered a job as a manager in a catering company in May 2021, with a stable salary and benefits, but had to turn it down because he was unable to provide a Social Security number.
‘Every issue that is wrong with America impacts undocumented immigrants.’
Rugerio hoped to stay in Boston after her first year at Tufts and intern as a teacher’s aide. She too lost the opportunity after being asked to provide a Social Security number for a background check.
“It is very difficult a lot of the time hearing ‘we can’t do anything about this,’” Rugerio said.
Instead, she returned to NYC to live with her family and continued to look for an internship that wouldn’t require a Social Security number. It took her longer than most of her peers, but with the help of SEO Scholars, she started an unpaid internship with South Bronx United as a teacher’s aide on June 27, 2022.
FACING EXPLOITATION
José Patiño, vice-president of education and external affairs at Aliento, an Arizona-based organization that helps mixed-status families transform their experiences into action, says people who are undocumented face exploitation due to limited work opportunities.
Many don’t report abusive working conditions, including wage theft and emotional and verbal abuse, due to the fear of being deported, said Patiño. “Every issue that is wrong with America impacts undocumented immigrants.”
After months of not having work due to the pandemic, Hernández took a job where he was paid cash, but the employer demanded he hand in his phone at the start of the shift and spent most of the day yelling at him. “It was the worst job I’ve ever had; I could not handle it for more than four months,” he said.
DACA, as it stands, is not perfect but it offers protection from deportation, which can be a big mental relief for recipients, says United We Dream’s Macedo do Nascimento. She believes the Biden administration “can do so much more” to protect those who were left in the dark, and update DACA to include people who arrived after June 15, 2007, one of the many requirements that leave the most recent generation of undocumented youth ineligible for the program.
Currently, legal arguments about DACA are being heard in two different states. In a New Orleans court, nine states led by Texas aim to end the program by arguing it is unconstitutional. Meanwhile, in New York, plaintiffs in a class action lawsuit are asking a federal judge in Brooklyn to order the federal government to continue processing new DACA applications.
A decision could take weeks but Rugerio, who knows no other home than the U.S., hopes the courts will side with her and all those who were left in limbo.
“We cannot keep waiting,” said Rugerio. “I am tired of waiting.”
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Yesenia Barrios is a freelance writer in New York City who specializes in immigration and mental health issues.