Five years ago, our government made a deal with immigrant youth: Come forward, register, pass a criminal background check, and you can live, study and work here lawfully.
In a climate of stalled progress on immigration reform, the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program was an important, albeit small, step toward fixing our country’s broken immigration system.
Federal immigration authorities have taken similar actions over the past 40 years, offering relief for vulnerable populations in unique immigration circumstances. DACAmented youth certainly fit that description. Most DACA recipients have no knowledge of their “native” country; they have only ever known the U.S. as their home. Their lives, futures, families and dreams are here.
Since DACA was introduced in 2012, hundreds of thousands of young people have come out of the shadows and accepted the government’s offer in good faith. They promised to work hard, graduate from high school and maintain a clean criminal record. In return, they could study, work and contribute to our shared communities without immediate fear of being expelled from their country.
But on Sept. 5, our government went back on its word. President Trump’s decision to end the DACA program, with no other immigration solution in place, throws the lives and futures of 800,000 DREAMers and their families into disarray. This cruel and unnecessary action injects chaos and uncertainty into thousands of families, workplaces and communities across America.
This issue isn’t just political for the ACLU of Utah. It is deeply personal. These are our members, neighbors, family, and friends.
In Utah alone, more than 9,500 community members have used their DACA status to give back in innumerable ways, as doctors and lawyers, soldiers and students. In fact, one of our current volunteer attorneys — and former legal intern — is DACAmented.
“Angie” came here lawfully when she was only 4 years old. Eventually, she became undocumented as a result of our backlogged, broken immigration system.
When her visa expired, Angie’s family filed an application for residency on her behalf. She aged out of the opportunity while waiting for her status to be adjusted.
When DACA was introduced, Angie had just graduated — with honors — from the University of Utah. With DACA status, she was able to work, pay off her tuition, get health insurance, attend and complete law school, and received her state bar license.
On the eve of the termination announcement, Angie told us:
“This program allowed me and many other DACAmented youth the opportunity to live among our community and peers with some sense of normalcy.
“DACA empowered us to speak up, speak out and further pursue our passions. It opened doors to higher education, jobs and opportunities previously denied to us, all while calming down many of the fears we faced for years before its implementation.
“We knew DACA was only a temporary solution. But the lack of compassion shown by the Trump administration to our undocumented community leaves many of us wondering: What will happen to the lives we built over the past few years? What will be done with all the personal information we gave to the government, now in the hands of the Trump administration?”
The fate of Angie and 800,000 other young adults who call this country their home lies in the hands of Congress. One practical approach is the 2017 DREAM Act, which would put youth who came here as children on a path to citizenship. They must act with urgency to protect our DREAMers, their families, and other undocumented immigrants from losing all they have worked to achieve.
Deportation is one of the most severe penalties the government can visit upon a person. It means banishment from one’s home. It is, as the U.S. Supreme Court has said, the loss of “all that makes life worth living.” We intend to fight alongside Angie and others to ensure they don’t lose all they hold dear — and to ensure that we don’t lose them.
Brittney Nystrom is the executive director of the ACLU of Utah.