Well-educated and undocumented
Thousands of undocumented college graduates face major hurdles while looking for employment. Most were brought here by their parents.
Carried into the United States in her mother's arms, Maria became a criminal when she was just over 2-weeks-old.
Of course, she did not know that at the time. Maria found out that she was an illegal immigrant when she began applying to colleges at 17, and told herself that if she was unable to gain U.S. citizenship by the time she was 30, she would leave the country forever.
Now 22-years-old and a graduate student at Cal State Fullerton, Maria, who is still undocumented, said that she tries not to think about her lack of citizenship and the obstacles it could create for her future.
Maria is one of thousands of students in Orange County who have been able to attend college through AB 540, a California law that allows undocumented students to pay in-state tuition, rather than the higher fee charged to non-California residents.
The Register is withholding the full names of the undocumented students at their request and under newspaper policy that recognizes the potential for retaliation against them.
Undocumented students are ineligible for state or federal financial aid, but do get help under a policy that allows them to pay the same fees as California residents. For example, non-California residents pay an additional $20,608 a year at the University of California; up to $10,170 at the California State University: and up to $170 per unit at community colleges.
Since AB 540 was enacted in 2001, a growing number of undocumented students in California have been able to pursue college degrees. There are no statewide numbers on how many undocumented students receive help through the program or how much they receive.
While the bill has opened doors to some undocumented students, it has also created a big debate about the legality and merit of subsidizing education for illegal immigrants. And for students like Maria, who would not otherwise have been able to afford higher education, AB 540 has created a huge unanswered question: What happens after graduation?
Every year an estimated 50,000 undocumented students graduate from U.S. high schools. About five percent of those students continue on to college, according to Roberto Gonzales, an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Washington, who conducted several studies about undocumented students in Southern California.
For some U.S. citizens, that is five percent too many.
"(California Lt. Gov.) John Garamendi came out last week and said California education is on a starvation diet," said Ira Mehlman, communications director for FAIR, the Federation for American Immigration Reform.
"The idea that California is starving its once proud education program and at the same time turning over these very valuable seats to people who are in the country illegally flies in the face of logic," Mehlman said.
The debate is heading toward the state Supreme Court
One of the attorneys leading the fight against AB 540 is Kris Kobach, chairman of the Kansas Republican Party. Kobach represents a group of students who attended California universities and paid the much higher out-of-state tuition rate.
The students' attorneys argue that, among other things, AB 540 conflicts with federal immigration laws limiting the ability of states to provide certain benefits to undocumented immigrants, said Nicholas Espiritu, staff attorney for the Mexican American Legal Defense Fund.
In 2006, the case was dismissed by the Yolo County Superior Court and has wound through various appellate panels. Both sides are now petitioning the state Supreme Court to weigh in. In the meantime, the law stands in effect.
Adding to the complexity of AB 540 is that the law also benefits U.S. citizens who attended high school in California for more than three years and moved out of state after graduation. They too can qualify for in-state tuition through AB 540. In fact, advocates stress that the majority of people taking advantage of the law are U.S. citizens.
According to a 2008 annual report, all but 455 of the 1,639 students who received in-state tuition in the UC system through AB 540 were citizens. Currently, the CSU system does not track AB 540 students, and paperwork varies among community colleges. Fullerton College had 571 students enrolled through AB 540 this fall, but was unable to provide the Register the potential percentage of those students who are undocumented.
Regardless of how people feel about illegal immigration, most of these students are here to stay, argued Josh Bernstein, director of federal policy at the National Immigration Law Center, a pro-immigration think tank.
"The question is would we rather have them in an uneducated state or allow them to be educated and contribute to society?" Bernstein said.
Unlike Maria, Daniel, a 25-year-old senior computer science major at UCI, was originally a legal immigrant. He was 13 when his parents emigrated from Korea to the United States on a business visa. The visa expired and when Daniel turned 21, he became an undocumented student.
"I left Korea when I was in middle school. If I went back now I would be a 13-year-old again," Daniel said, pointing out that his Korean vocabulary and cultural understanding are stuck at an adolescent level.
Daniel said that many of his undocumented Korean friends have gotten married after graduation, hoping to gain citizenship through their spouse. A growing number are returning to Korea to teach English.
"They teach English and earn a lot of money, actually," Daniel said. "Four times as much as a Korean man who graduated from a Korean college."
A growing number of undocumented students who feel stuck in limbo find the answer to the big "what next" question in graduate school, hoping that immigration reform will be passed by the time they earn a master's degree.
"College at least offers some safety for students. I wouldn't call it sanctuary, but at least it's the one legal option they have. Those who aren't (in school) face a day-to-day life of looking over their shoulders," Gonzales said.
Being a full time college student provides no protection from deportation, said Virginia Kice, Spokeswoman for U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
"Are we specifically targeting individuals who are in this country illegally and going to school?" Kice said. "I would say any individual in the country illegally is subject to arrest and deportation. However, like any law enforcement agency, we have a finite number of resources so we have to prioritize what cases we pursue."
Maria doesn't spend much time looking over her shoulder. A petite woman whose language is peppered with California slang like "chillax," Maria believes, in an admittedly naive way, that she would not be deported because she is so obviously a "Cali girl."
"I want to break down stereotypes," Maria said. "We are here, we are getting an education and we want to make the world better too."
Facing graduation, Claudia, a 28-year-old student at Cal State Long Beach, is having a hard time figuring how to use her double major in psychology and sociology.
"There is really nothing happening with immigration reform," Claudia said. "I am trying to look for other options."
Although Claudia still has family in Mexico and has considered moving back there, right now she is considering graduate school in Spain.
"Here in the States, after college you can go for your master's, but what after that? If I move somewhere else, maybe I can find other options," she said.
Claudia considers herself to be American, even though she wasn't born here. Moving to Spain would not only mean leaving her family behind, it would mean leaving her adopted country behind too, with no guarantee of ever returning.
It is a choice that not many undocumented students make.
"We are waiting for things to change so we can use our degrees," said Matias, a recent graduate of University California Los Angeles.
Many undocumented students have attached their hopes to the federal Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors (DREAM) Act, proposed legislation that would provide a path to citizenship for undocumented high school graduates who arrived in the U.S. before the age of 16.
Some – who've built an education on one bill – may not be willing to stake their future on another bill.
"I am not turning any younger. I want things. I want a job. I want a house. All I have right now is my clothes and my car," Claudia said. "I hope the Dream Act passes, but I don't want to depend on it all my life."
Contact the writer: Contact the writer at jterrell@ocregister.com or 714-796-7722
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