Carlo Barrera, who loved being a teacher, changed his profession to have more job opportunities out of fear that the Supreme Court would decide to eliminate DACA – the program that has protected him from deportation since 2012 – and that, as a consequence, he would have had to leave the United States. , where he lives since he was 6 years old.
Susana Lujano and her husband, both Dreamers, have just had a baby whom they fear they will not be able to protect if they lose their immigration benefits.
Morelys Urbano, who dreams of becoming a journalist, was unable to obtain DACA despite qualifying for the program, which would have given her a social security number and access to scholarships and grants.
And Kirlish Orozco, who came from Nicaragua with her parents at age 2, is also "completely undocumented" and, without a driver's license,
relies on her parents to get her to and from college.
They all have something in common: they are part of the more than 800,000 Dreamers who continue to demand from Congress an immigration reform that offers them a path to citizenship.
This Wednesday marks 10 years since Barack Obama announced DACA, a relief that has allowed many of them to work legally, study and not be temporarily expelled from the country, but which continues to be threatened in the courts and whose future is uncertain.
"We are in a golden cage": the dreamers demand that they be taken out of the limbo in which they live
June 14, 202203:42
The Supreme Court decided in 2020, narrowly 5-4, that Donald Trump had acted "arbitrarily and capriciously" in wanting to dismantle the program, which has remained in place but with limitations for new applicants.
A Texas judge ruled in 2021 that those who hadn't applied for protection before — many due to fear of sharing private information with the government or lack of money: the application costs nearly $500 every two years — had no right to do so, which
has left out some 80,000 eligible youth.
“The fact that DACA is in court emphasizes to us that it is temporary,” Maribel Hernández Rivera, deputy national political director of the American Union for Civil Liberties, told Noticias Telemundo.
“That is why it is very important that there is action at the federal level that gives a path to citizenship for the 11 million undocumented immigrants who need it.”
The Fifth Circuit of Appeals will hear on July 6 the lawsuit
Texas v.
United States
, brought in 2018 by Republicans against the federal government, and DACA is expected to end up back in the hands of the Supreme Court at some point.
Under this sea of bureaucracy and complicated legal decisions, the dreamers try to live a normal life that seems impossible between uncertainty and fear.
Four of them spoke with Noticias Telemundo on the 10th anniversary of DACA about their struggles, frustrations, and demands.
"I live every day without knowing what will happen": Carlo Barrera, 29 years old
His parents brought him to the United States from Mexico at the age of 6, in 1999. He lives in New York, where he has worked as a teacher and internet commerce professional. He is one of the Dreamers who has met with congressmen in the past to push for immigration reform.
Carlo Barrera, a 29-year-old DACA recipient, with his alumni in New York.
Courtesy of Carlo Barrera
"I taught science in New York to students from kindergarten through second grade. I loved it. It was one of my favorite things in life. But during the 2020 election, when it looked like Trump was going to be re-elected, I knew he He had already spent four years in government with the intention of eliminating DACA.
So I had to make the difficult decision to change my career and start a completely different one (online commerce) that had more options (jobs) abroad, in case I couldn't renew my DACA and had to leave the country.
I had to give up my favorite profession and move to Los Angeles to work at something else.
In New York I have my friends, my family.
Leaving all that cost me a lot of work.
In the end Trump was not re-elected and I was able to renew.
I came to the United States almost 24 years ago, I have DACA for 10 years and I feel exactly the same situation as I did a decade ago.
The program is still in court and that is the problem: its nature as a temporary solution.
You live each day without knowing what will happen.
It's hard to live preparing for the worst.
I am going to continue fighting for a fair future, not focusing on the bad.
I have had some unforgettable experiences in this country and I don't want the bad news about DACA to cloud that.
But it is very sad and demoralizing to continue having the same battles.
This Administration is better than the previous one, but it has made no difference to people in my situation.
Since 2012 I have been able to renew my DACA, but it always brings me the same anxiety that it will no longer be possible.
It is like a subscription that you pay for two years, without knowing if you will be able to continue.
In September 2023 I have to apply again.
Nobody knows who they are going to elect as president in 2024, so what if this time I renew is my last ".
"We have nothing stable to offer our baby": Susana Lujano, 29 years old
She arrived in the United States at the age of 2 and was brought from Mexico by friends of her family, along with her younger sister. She lives in Houston, Texas. Just five months ago she had her first baby, Joaquin. Her husband is also a DACA recipient. She works as an assistant at a law firm and aspires to become an immigration attorney.
Susana Lujano, a 29-year-old dreamer, with her husband and baby Joaquín.
Courtesy of Susana Lujano
"My husband and I had been planning to have a baby for two years, but the conversation always came up about what kind of stability we could give a child in this (immigration) situation, or if we should wait until there was a more permanent solution.
Unfortunately, this has not happened.
That is why, when I got pregnant, we decided to have the baby, although always thinking how we are going to do it if we lose our work permit, to remain in the country or if we had to face the possibility of deportation.
My baby is now 5 months old.
Living in two-year increments (how long DACA lasts before you have to renew it) is nothing stable to offer a baby.
In July 2021 I was part of a group of dreamers who met with the vice president (Kamala Harris).
I went with great joy, because she is the first vice president who is the daughter of immigrants.
It was very shocking to be able to share my story, as I had just found out that she was pregnant.
I told her that she was expecting a child and that it seemed illogical to me that there would not be some kind of permanence for our families, in this country to which we have given everything.
We were promised many things in that meeting: that they would work, that they would do everything possible so that (immigration reform) passed through the Budget Reconciliation Bill.
At the end of the day it was the same.
We advocated so much for some candidates that they made promises to us, and then they turned around and slapped us.
In my work, people know that I have DACA, I am an open book, but most regular people are not aware of what is happening with the program, how it may be affecting us mentally.
And now much more, that I have a child and I want to provide for him.
I don't want him to grow up afraid that he's going to be separated from me or his dad.
Susana Lujano says that as DACA recipients, she and her husband face the fear that the program will be struck down by the Supreme Court and they will be deported and separated from their son. Courtesy of Susana Lujano.
I renewed my DACA in 2021 and I have to renew next year.
When it's time to apply again I feel a lot of anxiety.
People do not understand that they give us a moment of stability and it is not true, because at any moment they take us out.
Everything can fall in one fell swoop.
They give us the opportunity to stay just to tell us: 'It was a joke, don't trust yourself'.
My case is very common among the community of dreamers.
I know that many of those who have spent their entire lives without papers no longer have hope, that they are annoyed to hear about immigration reform.
But DACA was not handed to us on a silver platter because President Obama wanted it.
It was the work of many years, a long time."
"I want to help my family financially and I can't": Morelys Urbano, 20 years old
He came to the United States at the age of 15, in 2017, and is part of the 80,000 minors who could not benefit from DACA despite qualifying, after the decision of a Texas federal judge not to accept new applicants. She was born in the Dominican Republic and studies journalism at Morgan State University in Maryland, where she founded
UndocuBear
, an organization that seeks to "educate and elevate the voices" of undocumented students at her school.
Morelys Urbano, 20, was unable to obtain DACA because the rule against new applicants had already gone into effect when she applied.
Courtesy of Morelys Orozco.
"When I came to the United States, in addition to not being able to benefit from DACA, Donald Trump was threatening to remove the program entirely, which was a bit shocking because the hopes that I had of benefiting from it died with him.
When Joe Biden was elected, the first thing he said was that he was going to implement immigration reform in the first 120 days of government.
I was one of the people who took to the streets to remove Trump from office.
Biden gave me so much hope that I even started to find out the prices of flights to the Dominican Republic, thinking that he could travel to my country after years without seeing my grandparents and my cousins.
But seeing that the 120 days passed, we realized that once again the Government had used us immigrants as a political strategy.
Maryland state law has allowed me to get financial aid to study and have health insurance, but I am limited in practically everything: applying for internships, jobs, things that can help me in my professional resume.
It is very difficult for me to find opportunities because for everything in this country they ask for a social security number and I am completely undocumented.
I see myself tied down, I want to help my family financially and I can't.
In Maryland, undocumented people can get a driver's license.
But on many occasions it has come to light that different agencies collaborate with ICE (the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement Service), so I have thought about it and I prefer to ride the bus than risk sharing my information with those entities and put my family at risk.
I cannot imagine that I am driving and they stop me, and for a ticket they deport me.
That's why I limit myself to everything.
It's a very difficult life, but at the same time I feel like resisting for the undocumented immigrant community in the country."
"My schoolmates are doing things with their lives and I don't have the same opportunities": Kirlish Orozco, 19 years old
She has lived in Miami, Florida, since her parents brought her from Nicaragua to the United States when she was 2 years old. She studies Political Science and International Relations at Florida International University. She couldn't get DACA either, because when she applied, the rule against new applicants had already gone into effect.
Kirlish Orozco, 19, was unable to obtain DACA due to a Texas judge's decision not to accept new applicants.
Courtesy of Kirlish Orozco.
“Right now I am completely undocumented.
I do not have DACA or any other form of legal protection.
I live in a mixed-status family: my dad and brother are citizens, but my mom and I are undocumented.
We have gone through the process to obtain citizenship from my father, but it costs a lot of money to obtain it and the system is very slow.
In November 2020, there were plenty of things you needed a social security number for.
I had a scholarship that would cover my expenses to any school I wanted, academic opportunities like internships, scholarships, opportunities to travel.
I was desperate and applied for DACA, but never got it.
Because I don't have legal status in this country, I depend a lot on my parents.
I cannot have the independence that I would like.
To go from my house to school is 30 minutes by car.
It's far.
That affects me a lot academically, because there are times when my father has to work and he can't take me.
And the bus is delayed, because public transportation in Miami is not accessible.
My life is very limited, especially as a teenager.
My colleagues are doing very important things with their lives and I don't have the same opportunities.
I have a lot of potential, but I can't develop it.
I can't depend on my parents all my life
DACA is a program made possible through the efforts of young immigrants from across the country.
What happened with the Dream Act
is a great achievement
.
It has given a lot of opportunities to a lot of people, but it was created with a temporary intention.
But although it has helped tens of thousands of migrants, it does not help all of the 11 million undocumented people who are here.
We deserve protection like any other person.
We need immigration reform."
Erika Marcano contributed to this story.