What Happens Now For Undocumented Youth?
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While the looming Trump presidency is bad news for everyone, it is particularly terrifying for the marginalized among us, including “probably two million” of the approximately 11 million undocumented immigrants currently living in the United States whom Trump vows to deport.
On the deliberately vague “Immigration Reform & Building The Wall” page of Trump’s pre-presidential site, greatagain.gov, Trump promises to “cancel unconstitutional executive orders and enforce all immigration laws.” One terrifying prospect among these is that Trump could, on his first day in office, sign an Executive Order repealing Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), a program that provides temporary legal status to immigrants who came to the country as children. Qualifying for DACA includes several requirements, like currently attending or having graduated from high school, or being an honorably discharged veteran; as well as not having a felony conviction, significant misdemeanor, or three or more misdemeanors. The dates by which one must have arrived are arbitrary—for instance, applicants must have been under the age of 31 as of June 15, 2012, and had no lawful status at that time; and arrived in the US before their 16th birthdays and resided here continuously since June 15, 2007. Immigrants who arrived at 17 years old are out of luck. The program is imperfect, but to date, DACA has allowed about 728,000 immigrants without previous documentation to work, study, and build lives in the United States. About 228,000 more children will age into eligibility for the program—if it remains.
In Santa Fe, New Mexico, 21-year-old Maria Santos and and 22-year-old Hali Calzadillas-Andjuo, both recipients of DACA, face an uncertain future. Santos came to the US when she was 18 months old and has a baby daughter, Jayleen, who is a citizen. Calzadillas-Andjuo arrived here 13 years ago.
“The morning after the election, the first thing that popped into my head was, I’m fucked,” said Calzadillas-Andujo, who works at the United Way of Santa Fe County. “It was surreal. But I still got up and went to work, because that’s what we do, even if shit happens. One of my coworkers has DACA too, and her baby’s two years old. When we saw each other, we didn’t say anything but burst into tears.
“I’m in school also, and I still went to class, because participation points count towards my GPA,” she continued. “But I had that feeling you feel when you know something bad is going to happen but you can’t really do anything about it. What I really hope is that I can finish my bachelor’s degree before we have to go back. I’ll be done May 13. Even if I go back to Mexico, that degree will serve me over there.”
In the days after the election, Santos and Calzadillas-Andujo met with their lawyer, immigration attorney Allegra Love, who founded the nonprofit Santa Fe Dreamers Project to provide free legal representation to immigrant youth and their families. In the last three years, Love has processed about 1,000 DACA applications and currently has a caseload of about 300. On the morning after the election, Love was flooded with calls, emails, and visits from dozens of her clients. Because Trump’s plans are vague and his rhetoric is volatile, Love isn’t sure what to tell her clients especially those who have DACA.
“For the time being, we believe Trump when he says he’s going to repeal DACA,” Love told me one morning her office, a storefront overlooking a busy street and the campus of the neighboring Santa Fe Indian School. “He can repeal it with a signature, and he can do it on day one. There are questions about how it’s going to unfold—will recipients get to wait for their DACA to expire, or will it immediately be cancelled? What are we going to do about cases that are pending? It gets even murkier when you start talking about deportations. But I don’t have those answers right now. Nobody does.”
Right now, there are about 1.3 million immigrants over the age of 15 who are eligible for deferred action, according to the nonpartisan Migration Policy Institute. The number of eligible applicants rises to 1.7 million when it includes immigrants who meet all requirements except for high school graduation or current school enrollment.
Santos was brought to the US as a toddler, and has no memory of Zacatecas, Mexico, where she was born. When Santos first moved to the US, she lived with her mother and several siblings in Iowa. But Santos’s mother returned to Mexico 11 years ago when she developed serious health problems, knowing that without papers, she wouldn’t be able to receive the care she needed. Santos remained in the US in part because she didn’t yet speak or read Spanish—she hasn’t seen her mother since—and was left in the care of her 16-year-old brother and 17-year-old sister. The three moved to New Mexico, where an aunt lived, and stayed with her for about a month until Santos’ siblings, who had dropped out of school, had secured jobs. Then they were on their own.