S.A.

Yale Law School
New York

People are shocked when I tell them I am undocumented. Their responses are mostly the same: how can it be possible? Folks assume that I was born in the United States, which is fair considering that I have lived and grown here for the past twenty-four years, practically all of my life.

My family is originally from Morocco; they immigrated to Israel in the 1960s. I was born in Israel in 1985 and came to the U.S. in 1986 with my parents. We arrived with tourist visas allowing us to remain in the U.S. for up to six months. My parents made the decision to stay here. Three years later, we had overstayed our visas and my sister was born here in the U.S. After separating from my father my mom had the responsibility of raising two children on her own. By 1992 no steps were taken to address our immigration status and the fact that both my mother and I had overstayed our visas.

Life was difficult during this time; getting the basic food, clothes, and shelter we needed became increasingly difficult. My family moved from apartment to apartment, lived in motels, stayed with friends, stayed with strangers, had no permanent housing. Our struggle with poverty was impacted by my mother’s inability to work legally so she decided to try and remedy the situation the best way she could. I was only twelve, but I remember going to court, being asked some questions, and then sitting outside to wait for what seemed like eternity. That day I learned that we had lost and the judge said we had to leave the U.S. For me, as a twelve-year-old kid, life went on. My sister and I went to school and my mom continued to work. Nothing really changed, and I did not understand the significance of what happened that day in court.

When I graduated from high school I had an order of deportation on my record and no legal status in this country. No one I knew, friends or family, went to college, and nothing about the process was familiar. In fact, I was sure I could not attend college at all, but I applied to state schools in New York anyway. To my surprise, I got in. I am thankful that New York State provides in-state tuition to students who graduated from N.Y. high schools regardless of their status. I attended SUNY Binghamton for two years, and transferred to SUNY Buffalo where I graduated with a BA in American Studies and African American Studies. To pay for school, I took out private loans for tuition and worked part-time in order to pay for rent and other expenses like books and food.

I decided to go to law school in order to pursue a career doing social justice work. I was twenty-two years old and still undocumented. I didn’t know if I could go to law school or if I could ever practice law, but I decided to follow my dream anyway. This past May, I graduated from Yale Law School as part of the class of 2010. Most of my time at Yale was spent doing public interest work, including defending immigrants caught up in illegal raids and people accused of committing crimes. Over my two law school summers, I worked as an advocate for women in prison and at a public defender’s office. It is difficult to go through life undocumented, with a sense of uncertainty as if all your hard work is for nothing. For me, working with other people struggling for justice provided a sense of purpose. I have been offered a position as a public defender, and this work is something I am passionate about. However, because I cannot legally work in the U.S., I cannot start my career. My life is on hold. Since graduating and studying for the bar exam, I have been unemployed for months. The DREAM Act would allow me to not only pursue my career, but also to be a productive member of society.

I must stress how lucky and privileged I am to be in the position I am as an undocumented law school graduate. For millions of undocumented folks throughout the country, the situation is much bleaker. In this economic crisis, immigrant communities are especially affected. Many are ineligible to receive help and many more are scared to look for it. ICE is not banging down the doors of Ivy League students; they are however, violating the human rights of thousands of people. We need justice for all who inhabit this legal borderland, who are here but considered aliens and outsiders by those in power. No human being is illegal and all are entitled to freedom of movement across borders.

An Ivy League education is a powerful thing, and I hope to use it for the rest of my life to fight for justice. The DREAM Act will allow me to carry on in this struggle.