Alex immigrated to the United States as a child and has long struggled with his undocumented status.
In 2017, when he turned 15, he was finally old enough to apply for the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, but the program slipped out of his hands before he could start filing paperwork when it was repealed by the Trump administration.
Then, in 2020, Alex would graduate at the top of his class with a series of college offers, including a full-ride admission to Harvard University. He ultimately declined because of his status, fearing travel restrictions. Instead, he attended the nearby University of California campus.
“It was almost like the system was laughing at me,” said Alex, now a graduate student at California State University who chose to use his middle name out of fear of being targeted by immigration authorities. “No matter how well you perform, the system will always come back to haunt you, reminding you that you’ve done all this, but you really have no choice.”
When DACA first took effect in 2012, the promise of work authorization and deportation protections pulled a generation of undocumented youth from the shadows. However, thousands of students like Alex are now largely excluded due to an ongoing legal battle that has essentially frozen applications since 2017.
The Trump administration’s aggressive immigration enforcement tactics this year have further upended these students’ lives. DACA recipients and international students are targeted, casting a pall over higher education that protects even fewer undocumented youth.
Gaby Pacheco, who was undocumented in high school and helped spearhead the DACA effort in the 2000s, said current undocumented youth are “experiencing the same heartbreak” and restrictions as her generation.
“It tethers people, in a sense, locks up their potential and their dreams,” said Pacheco, who serves as president and CEO of TheDream.US, a scholarship program. The most prominent barriers include a lack of access to federal aid, certain scholarships and job opportunities, she said.
Corinne Kentor, senior manager of research and policy at the President’s Alliance on Higher Education and Immigration, said many of these concerns are not new, but “they are more serious and relevant than ever” due to hostile immigration strategies and rhetoric.
Undocumented youth have long been at the center of the country’s immigration debate. As a result, the legislative system that determines its status is shaky, fragmented, and challenged across the country.
DACA survived a legal challenge from President Trump in 2017 when the Supreme Court ruled in 2020 that the Trump administration had not taken appropriate steps to end the program.
This year, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit issued a ruling that would uphold DACA nationwide but revoke work authorization for beneficiaries living in Texas. All other state protections will remain in place and applications may reopen. The ruling is awaiting a decision from a lower court judge on how to be implemented.
Sen. Dick Durbin (D-Ill.) and Sen. Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska) reintroduced the DREAM Act in early December, the latest attempt by many over the past two decades to provide a path to citizenship for young immigrants.
The current Trump administration is trying to close the door even further Sued California in Novemberclaiming the state’s decades-long in-state tuition to undocumented students was illegal. The action follows similar legal steps taken by the federal government to end State Tuition Fairness Acts All over the country.
“I feel like my family and I have been thrown into a video game,” Alex said. “It’s like turning on the console every morning, you know, this is a challenge, this is a game and I have to survive.”
Who are today’s undocumented students?
The 80,000 undocumented students enrolled in the state have not yet declined significantly.
Undocumented students can apply for state financial aid through the California Dream Act, but applications are down 15% this school year, with just over 32,000 applications submitted. Applications have declined steadily since 2018.
Advocates warn that the decline is driven by legal challenges to DACA and growing nervousness among young people about sharing personal information with government-run programs.
According to the Higher Education Immigration Portal, more than 500,000 undocumented people are pursuing higher education, but less than 30% of them qualify for DACA. Currently, most high school students were born after 2007 and automatically exit the program.
The average age of the more than 500,000 active DACA recipients is 31 years old, and nearly 90% are over 26 years old. Javier Carbajal-Ramos, coordinator of the Dream Resource Center at Los Angeles Valley College, said the number of beneficiaries has also declined, down from more than 700,000 at its peak, with some adjusting to their status by getting married or having children.
“We call them the original undocumented students,” Carbajal-Ramos said. “They were the ones who had a real opportunity, and they probably took it. But then, the system changed.”
Alex, who was brought to this country from El Salvador by his mother in the early 2000s, was ineligible for DACA because he was five years younger than the minimum age to apply.
“I grew up feeling silenced, and then there was a period where I felt like I could speak, I could take my voice back…and now, I feel like I’ve been silenced,” Alex said. “My story is determined by someone other than myself. My past, my present and my future are all negotiated by people who rightly don’t see the humanity in me.”
Higher education is a gamble
For undocumented students, attending college is a risk. Many are choosing to enter the workforce directly, a choice Alex says is “very clear” to “most” of their peers.
Iliana Perez, a former DACA recipient and executive director of Immigrants Rising, said those who are truly willing to take risks often recognize the importance of education. Many immigrant families, like Alex’s, are initially drawn to the United States because of a desire for educational opportunities and social mobility.
“My mom’s biggest mistake has always been thinking there would be someone on this side of the border who believed in her kids as much as she did,” Alex said. “They’ve done everything they can to keep me and themselves believing that something is going to work.”
For Alex, school has always felt like a “veil of protection.” Fear of entering the workforce was one of the factors that motivated him to continue working in academia.
Education also often gives students more leverage in legal proceedings and allows them to pursue job opportunities abroad or avenues such as self-employment and entrepreneurship, Perez said.
Carbajal-Ramos said many schools now offer support services and scholarships that can provide financial compensation in the form of stipends, largely due to the organizing efforts of previous generations of undocumented students.
An undocumented college senior participated in a summer program on a California State University campus after her first year because the program was paid for through a stipend. One-year academic positions were also available but paid hourly wages, which meant she was not eligible.
However, she said department leadership committed to offering her the position and paying her through a scholarship, which allowed her to generate income while in school.
“I didn’t ask for this. They did it themselves. And for that, I’m really grateful,” said the senior, who asked The New York Times not to use her name because she is undocumented. “It was amazing to see a group of people who actually wanted to help me.”
Colleges and universities across the country have also established Dream Resource Centers to provide services, financial aid and support to immigrant students. There are 161 centers on campuses across the state, including nearly every community college and every California State University and University of California campus; California also has Dream Centers at 14 private universities.
Carbajal-Ramos, a regional representative for centers in the Los Angeles area, said it’s important to understand students’ situations and not shy away from the precarious reality in which they live. As coordinator at Los Angeles Valley College, he served at least 1,000 undocumented students.
“When someone really tells you you can’t, you either give up or you fight, right? We’re here because we fight,” Carbajal-Ramos said. “They have Ganas. They are motivated. It’s my responsibility to keep it that way. “
Alex is now just a few months away from completing his master’s degree and hopes to study for a PhD next fall. The application typically required him to map out his academic journey over the next five years, a task that proved incredibly difficult.
“I really can’t imagine my life in the next five years,” he said. “I can’t even think about my life tonight. Driving home scares me. Coming to campus scares me. Getting out of the car scares me. I’m living my life between breaths.”
