A Step Toward Security

Dario Guerrero-Meneses ’15 pulled an all-nighter on August 15, filling out his application for the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program the day it came out.

“I stayed up and I got everything done and in the morning I got up and took it to the mail,” he said.

Guerrero-Meneses came to the United States from Mexico with his parents when he was two years old on a tourist visa meant for a wedding. They never left, and once the visa expired, they couldn’t renew it. That’s when they became undocumented.

Now under DACA, a program announced June 15 by the Department of Homeland Security, Guerrero-Meneses and about a million other young people who came to the United States before their 16th birthdays are able to apply for “deferred action” on their case for a period of two years.

For many undocumented youths, including those whose nearly lifelong fears of deportation and hopes for immigration reform have followed them to Harvard, DACA represents a major step toward security in America.

A SENSE OF SECURITY

“It means not living in fear anymore,” said Mary, an undocumented junior in Quincy House who asked that her real name not be used due to her immigration status. “I’m just happy having deportation protection.”

Under DACA, so-called “childhood arrivals” who were between 15 and 30 years old on June 15, 2012, can receive temporary work authorization, a Social Security number, and a two-year reprieve from immigration proceedings. The application asks them how they came to the United States and demands information including school transcripts.

To be eligible, applicants must also prove that they have graduated from high school, received their GED, or been honorably discharged from the Armed Forces. Criminal convictions for felonies, “significant misdemeanors,” or more than three misdemeanors can disqualify applicants.

After an applicant’s materials are partially processed, he or she receives a summons to come into an Application Support Center to have biometrics—fingerprints and I.D. photos—taken.

Fernando Espino ’15, an undocumented student born in Mexico, echoed Mary’s feeling of relief that the program may offer him a respite from his fear of running into legal trouble due to his immigration status.

“It’s that nagging feeling in the back of your mind that...at any point, if it’s not me, it’s my parents,” he said. “It provides me with a sense of calm and security, knowing that I can go about my normal life here without worrying about that.”

Before DACA, undocumented persons could not get a Social Security number or the ability to work legally. As a result, even those with college degrees were often relegated to jobs that paid under the table.

“In two years, I know I have two summers and advantages to take the opportunity of an internship, or a job somewhere that will hopefully lead to better things,” Espino said.

Eve, an undocumented sophomore in Winthrop House whose name was changed due to her immigration status, didn’t learn she was undocumented until she started applying for jobs in high school.

“I remember going to [Qdoba] and I got the application, but when I came to that last spot that asked for my Social Security number…I asked my dad, ‘Papi, what’s my Social Security number,’ and he didn’t answer,” she said. “And then, little did I know, I didn’t have a Social Security number.”

“I didn’t understand what that meant,” she added. “A number’s a number. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m still a person.”

Eve, who arrived in the United States on a tourist visa when she was six, turned in the application with the Social Security number slot blank. The interview went “perfectly,” she said, until she explained that she couldn’t provide the number.

“That’s when it really hit me,” Eve said. “I remember staying calm and saying okay and exiting through that door.”

But as soon as she left the fast food restaurant, Eve says she broke down.

“I ran and I ran, and I cried and I asked myself, why? Like, why me? Like, what did I do?” she said. “Like, what the—what the fuck does this number have to do with me?”

AN UNCERTAIN FUTURE

Like Eve, Guerrero-Meneses found out he was undocumented in high school, when he started applying to colleges.

“I told my parents that I had to fill out the FAFSA, and they said, ‘Okay, we have to have a sit-down,’” he said.

Undocumented undergraduates at Harvard—students interviewed for this article said there are around 40—are eligible for the same financial aid as U.S. citizens and permanent residents. But Harvard is one of only a handful of institutions able to offer the same aid packages to domestic students and those it deems “international.” In many states, undocumented students who grew up and went to high school in-state are ineligible for in-state tuition at public universities.

While DACA grants undocumented students a postponement on consideration of their immigration case, it does not make them eligible for federal student aid and other financial support reserved for citizens and permanent residents. These financial constraints prompt some students to opt for working rather than attending college, or to shoot for private schools that could provide enough financial aid for them to attend.

“Harvard was the only one that would give me a full scholarship,” Guerrero-Meneses said.

Luis, an undergraduate who was smuggled across the Mexico-United States border with piñatas when he was seven, said he too was unsure whether he would be able to afford college until he was accepted to Harvard.

“I figured I was going to have to go to a really inexpensive school—if I could go to college,” said Luis, who asked that only his first name be used due to his immigration status.

Herbert B. Castillo ’14, the president of Fuerza Latina, said that while some undocumented students he knows feels safe from deportation at Harvard, the student organizations’ members have discussed what happens once they graduate. Castillo also said there has been some worry about how the upcoming presidential election could affect the students who have applied for deferred action.

“Once you apply, you’re basically giving all your information away,” he said. “Some people told me they weren’t going to apply until after the election.”

Deborah E. Anker, a clinical professor of law and the director of the Immigration and Refugee Clinical Program at the Law School, also noted that the upcoming election has created trepidation for some students thinking about applying for deferred action.

“They’ve surrendered to immigration service in order to get this,” Anker said. “It takes a lot of courage to come forward right now at this incredible moment in history when this country could go in two such radically different directions. But these kids have demonstrated a lot of courage.”

As an immigration policy change for the Department of Homeland Security that was announced by the President, DACA is not a law and can be discontinued by the next administration. But the prospect of a Mitt Romney victory in November has raised worries for those applying for relief under the policy, many of whom believe Romney’s immigration track record takes a particularly harsh stance on undocumented immigrants.

Romney announced on Tuesday, however, that he would not deport those that have been granted deferred action. Instead, he said that, if elected, he will enact immigration reform before the two-year program expires.

Though widely viewed by immigration rights advocates as a bigger ally to undocumented students, President Barack Obama is on track to a harsher record on illegal immigration than past Republican presidents. Obama has deported around 1.5 million immigrants in just under four years in office.

A HOPE FOR CHANGE

Despite her experience at Qdoba, Eve did not want not to apply for deferred action at first. The program, she says, fails to address the major problems undocumented students face.

“Deferred action is a joke,” she said. “It doesn’t encourage people to continue their education…. If anything, it’s encouraging kids to work, because it’s giving you a worker’s card.”

But when she found out that the program might enable her to study abroad, Eve eventually decided to apply. Widespread misinformation about the program and its benefits—positive and negative—persists, she says, and even her lawyer was misinformed about the opportunities for travel.

The real solution for students like Eve, most people interviewed for this article said, lies not in DACA but in the passage of the Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors Act—better known as the DREAM Act—and eventually, comprehensive immigration reform.

The DREAM Act, which was first proposed in Congress in 2001, would give conditional permanent residency to undocumented people who arrived in the United States before their 16th birthdays. As with DACA, to qualify for residency, undocumented persons would need to have obtained a GED, graduated from high school, be attending or have attended college, or have served in the military for at least two years.

However, unlike DACA, DREAM Act beneficiaries would receive six-year temporary residency status, which would turn permanent if the person meets sufficient criteria.

Luis said that he believes DACA was the most Obama could accomplish without approval from Congress.

“I’m hoping that it will be replaced with something much wider, more comprehensive, that takes care of more people,” he said. “I don’t want DACA to be the end.”

Anker predicted that over the next five to ten years, the changing demographics of the country will result in immigration legislation at last.

“We need a legalization program. We need a program that, in my mind, brings the whole undocumented population out of the shadows and on a path…to permanent status,” she said. “There’s a lot of opposition to that, and that opposition is rooted in a time and place of America that’s over.”

Other students, including Espino, said that they think the U.S. needs a better immigration process in general, not just for students. Some, who said that Mexican citizens, whose American family members can file a petition for them to receive permanent residency, expect to wait an average of 20 years for their case to be considered.

“I know a lot of people would immigrate legally if the process wasn’t so convoluted, so bureaucratic, so expensive,” Espino said. “If there was a more successful way to immigrate legally, it would go a long way towards solving the issue.”

Part of Congress’ hesitancy over the DREAM Act and broader immigration reform, Anker said, stems from the fact that many Americans are not very aware of the situation that most undocumented students are in.

“I think they aren’t aware of what a large population there is of very hardworking people who are just very much wanting to pursue the American dream, who will be incredible workers and citizens in the future,” she said. “The rhetoric of the last several years has been about ‘criminal aliens.’”

But some students who have long struggled against barriers for undocumented students—the emotional ones and the legal ones—think that DACA could be the stepping stone to a more permanent and more positive policy.

“Instead of demonizing the person, look at how messed up the law is, that so many people are having to do this,” Mary said. “I hope that DACA will lead the way to another step up.”

—Staff writer D. Simone Kovacs can be reached at dkovacs@college.harvard.edu.