Why are ‘Dreamers’ still in purgatory?
When Katia Escobar's family members reminisce about their previous life in Mexico, they might as well be talking about a different planet. Escobar, whose parents carried her across the border as an infant and eventually settled in Houston, has always considered herself American.
America, however, isn't so sure. For Escobar, 18, being an “undocumented immigrant” was mostly an abstract notion. It never impacted her education nor stunted her dreams. When she read a research paper in high school about the lack of diversity in the medical field and the higher mortality rate of Black women during childbirth, she set her sights on one day becoming a doctor to help remedy those stark inequities.
But once Escobar began filling out college applications she realized how far out of reach that goal might be.
“I remember asking my mom, ‘By any chance, do you know what my Social Security number is?' ” Escobar told the editorial board recently. “And she said, ‘Oh, you don't have one, because you're undocumented.' I didn't realize just how crucial this one number was.”
Escobar is among an estimated 1.1 million immigrants who graduate from high school or college into an unconscionable purgatory, legally unable to use their skills and talents to contribute to a nation they've called home nearly their entire lives.
Escobar, like many undocumented residents brought to this nation as minors, sought refuge in the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program and put her trust in political leaders who talked of compassion but never delivered any real, permanent action. Yet owing in part to a Texas-led lawsuit to kill DACA, Escobar as well as the nearly 100,000 young people graduating from high school this year, are no longer eligible for the program.
Created by a 2012 executive order from President Barack Obama, DACA offered undocumented young people the chance to qualify for in-state college tuition and to work here legally. Texas is home to some 210,600 DACA-eligible individuals, including more than 60,000 people in Houston, according to the American Immigration Council.
Roughly 800,000 people have taken advantage of DACA since it launched. Yet 10 years later, its weaknesses are more apparent than ever. President Joe Biden's failure so far to fulfill a campaign pledge to secure a path to citizenship for DACA recipients continues a disheartening track record of unkept promises from both Democratic and Republican presidents and lawmakers.
“And all of those so-called Dreamers, those DACA kids,” Biden said at one 2020 presidential debate with President Donald Trump, “they're going to be immediately certified again to be able to stay in this country and put on a path to citizenship.” Didn't happen. Despite DACA's limited but critical success and overwhelming, bipartisan public support for permanent protections — 74 percent of Americans support a pathway to citizenship for those brought to America as children — Congress has always found a convenient excuse for inaction.
Lawmakers have either used the DACA recipients' plight as a bargaining chip to pass supposedly more urgent legislation — be it building a border wall or raising the debt ceiling — or have resisted a stand-alone DACA bill in order to reach a seemingly impossible grand bargain on comprehensive immigration reform.
Over the past decade, DACA has become even more limited. For lowincome residents such as Escobar, the onerous application and renewal fees are themselves a barrier to protected status. With the help of United We Dream, an immigrant advocacy group, Escobar took a course on DACA and they provided funds to submit an application. She waited and waited, praying she would be accepted.
Alas, a lawsuit filed by Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton and six other states challenging the program's legality scuttled her hopes. Despite the vast economic contributions undocumented immigrants make to Texas every year and a state law allowing some undocumented students to pay in-state college tuition, Paxton has worked for years to end DACA for good.
In July 2021, a federal judge in South Texas ruled in his favor. The decision barred new applications to the program. The majority of undocumented immigrants graduating from high schools across the nation would no longer be protected. While the Biden administration has appealed the ruling, and the legal saga continues in federal court next month, no new applicants are eligible for the program.
The ruling left Escobar wracked with anxiety. She had been accepted to the University of Houston, one step closer to her dream of becoming a doctor. The threat of deportation to a country she never knew suddenly seemed more real than ever.
“It was sheer panic,” Escobar said. “How will I pay my rent? How will I pay my living expenses? How will I continue to live and reside in the U.S. if I cannot earn any income?”
Escobar found a lifeline in the form of a national scholarship from Dream.US, a nonprofit advocacy group, allowing her to continue her studies. Yet while she is one year closer to a bachelor's degree, the prospects of someday attending medical school remain, well, a dream.
That's in large part because the supposed “Dreamer” advocates in Congress have gone conspicuously quiet, including Texas' senior Sen. John Cornyn. Despite telling this board in 2020 he “no longer felt comfortable” using “Dreamers” as leverage to get the wall and other border-related Republican priorities, his recent statements suggest he lacks the courage to stand up to his own party on the issue. During a hearing Tuesday designed to build support for a permanent DACA solution, Cornyn stated what he believes to be the political reality: It is difficult to pass any immigration measures so long as lawmakers are concerned about migrants at the southern border.
It's unclear what those migrants have to do with DACA recipients who have grown up here. Still, Cornyn may be right about the political will of his colleagues who apparently can't tell a cartel member from an asylum seeker and are probably just as content to paint every American-raised, Englishspeaking, law-abiding “Dreamer” with the same broad brush.
For Biden's part, he made good on sending a comprehensive immigration reform bill to Congress, which would allow more legal immigration and give nearly 11 million unauthorized immigrants, including DACA recipients, a pathway to legal status. Pushing forward a bill that stands no chance of passing is no substitute for genuine advocacy. Biden should instead use every opportunity to call attention to Republicans standing in the way of helping “Dreamers.”
When young people across the nation applied for DACA, they did so with hope and trust that making themselves visible and vulnerable to a system that only promised temporary protection would be honored. Our government has failed them.
Escobar is one of tens of thousands of DACA recipients who took that risk. She is ready and willing to contribute to making this nation better. Only Congress can secure her future. Get it done already.
Congress must act to secure the future of DACA recipients.