Her teacher never knew.

Loida Ginocchio-Silva sat in her usual chair the day her AP English teacher asked the class about its plans after graduating high school.

When the time came for Loida to answer, most of her classmates — a group predominantly composed of white honors students — had already named some of the area’s top schools: Duke University, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Wake Forest University and North Carolina State University.

Loida could not add to the list. Rather, she told the class that she was considering community college, if any college at all. Loida was an undocumented immigrant, and college was not something she or her family could afford.

The teacher, Loida recalled, expressed a look of disappointment. Unaware of Loida’s undocumented status, the teacher responded to the class that she did not understand why a student would take an AP class if they did not plan on going to college.

With her head to her desk, Loida stayed silent. “I wanted to speak up, but I couldn’t,” she said. “I was so afraid. I was so embarrassed — ashamed of my status.”

Each year, approximately 65,000 undocumented immigrants like Loida graduate high school in the United States and are prevented from pursuing higher education.

In North Carolina, undocumented immigrants are permitted to attend universities in the UNC system after gradating from a U.S. high school. However, access to higher education remains unrealistic for many, as federal law disqualifies them from receiving financial aid and classifies them as out-of-state residents.

The DREAM Act would grant a temporary legal status to children brought to the U.S. before the age of 16, and it may offer states more flexibility in offering financial aid.

The Act failed to pass in the Senate Thursday, but another vote is expected this week.

The Congressional Budget Office recently estimated that between 300,000 and 500,000 undocumented immigrants living in the U.S. would benefit from the DREAM Act.

A July study by the non-partisan Migration Policy Institute indicated that this group could be larger, reporting that an estimated 726,000 undocumented immigrants would be immediately eligible for the DREAM Act.

Other nonpartisan studies point to financial incentives for increasing access to education for undocumented immigrants. According to a CBO cost estimate issued to Congress last Wednesday, the DREAM Act would reduce the federal deficit by $2.2 billion between 2011 and 2020 by generating additional tax revenue from undocumented immigrants.

Conservative opponents of the DREAM Act have questioned the validity of such reports and describe their argument as a matter of law.

“You try to enforce the law, and you don’t try to provide a bunch of carrots to illegal immigrants to make it even more appealing to be in this country illegally,” said Daren Bakst, the director of legal and regulatory studies for the John Locke Foundation. “You try to do what you can to make it as difficult as possible.”

Immigrant rights advocates counter that this is a human rights issue and that society benefits from immigration.

“It’s not like we can pretend that they don’t exist,” said Ron Bilbao, president of the Coalition for College Access at UNC-Chapel Hill. “In the long run, we’re the ones who are going to benefit from a society of educated, intelligent, bright people.”

Loida’s story

Loida and her parents left Peru when she was 13 in search of a better future for her and her brother. She said she understood this decision to be a choice between moving to the U.S. without authorization in hope of work, or staying in Peru and not being able provide for their family.

“I saw the empty refrigerator many times,” Loida recalled. “I don’t blame them for making that decision — for changing my life around.”

Loida arrived in North Carolina in 2001 knowing little English. She quickly adjusted and in 2005 she graduated with honors from East Forsyth High School in Kernersville.

As a member of several school organizations, including the National Honor Society and track team, Loida was an attractive candidate for a four-year college. But without access to financial aid, she did not apply and enrolled in a nearby community college.

“I was depressed,” Loida recalled. “ I felt like I had no other option.”

Loida made her way through Alamance Community College, supporting herself by juggling jobs as a waitress and babysitter.

This fall, she enrolled part-time at the University of North Carolina at Asheville, though she struggled to pay tuition for the one class she was taking.

Because she is undocumented, Loida must pay out-of-state tuition, which costs about $2,200. By comparison, in-state tuition would cost about $600. Loida said she would not be able to return for the spring semester because of the cost, but she hopes to save money and return next fall.

“I’m gonna be in school forever unless the DREAM Act passes,” said Loida. “It’s a mix of feelings. Sometimes it’s frustration. Sometimes it’s depression. Sometimes it’s sadness.”

A long time to wait

When the DREAM Act was originally introduced into Congress in 2001, the bill had bi-partisan support. U.S. Sen. Orrin Hatch, R-Utah, sponsored the Senate version, along with a group of 18 co-sponsors — including former Sens. Edward Kennedy and Larry Craig.

Despite this support, the bill fell short of becoming law several times during the past decade when it was attached to other failed bills, including the Comprehensive Immigration Reform Acts of 2006 and 2007.

Meanwhile in North Carolina, the state’s higher education institutions wrestled with the issue, but a federal law provided little maneuverability.

Section 505 of the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996 forbids “unlawful aliens” from receiving higher education benefits such as federal financial aid and in-state tuition.

The DREAM Act has attempted to repeal this provision and to provide a path to citizenship for undocumented students who came to the U.S. before the age of 16.

In 2004, the UNC system changed its policy guidelines to explicitly permit undocumented students to attend its universities. However, these students were restricted from paying in-state tuition and receiving financial aid. The North Carolina Community College System adopted a nearly identical policy in 2009, its fifth policy change since 2001.

Although no study has been done to determine how many undocumented students are enrolled in the UNC system, a 2009 report commissioned by the N.C. Community College System indicated that 112 undocumented students — out of about 200,000 total full-time students — were enrolled in the system during the 2007-2008 academic year.

Officially, administrators at UNC-CH say they follow state and federal laws, which permit the enrollment of undocumented students. Stephen Farmer, associate provost and director of undergraduate admissions at UNC-CH, said he welcomes applications from undocumented students.

“The [undocumented] students we’ve enrolled I think have brought credit to themselves and to the university,” Farmer said. “I don’t have any regrets about our enrolling them at all.”

Although no data is kept about the number of undocumented students enrolled in the UNC system, experts close to the issue estimate that more students are turned away than enroll.

Speaking as a private citizen, Farmer expressed frustration with an admissions process that lacked clarity.

“I absolutely support a clearer, better, fairer path to higher education for undocumented students,” he said. “I think the DREAM Act is one of the ways to get there.”

Farmer personally views the DREAM Act as an important step to helping immigrants who identify as everyday Americans.

“This is their home,” he said. “It just seems to me we are talking about children who are doing the best they can to move forward in their lives. I don’t think a just society will punish children for what their parents have done.”

A dry well of funding

As different incarnations of the DREAM Act have appeared in Congress during the past few years, Loida has attempted — on her own — to do everything possible to continue her education.

Most scholarships, she said, were either too competitive or required a Social Security number. Although she found some support from two private sources, she described the funding as limited.

When Loida enrolled at UNC-A, she sought help in the university’s financial aid office, but said she did not find support.

“I knocked on a lot of doors,” she said. “Their response was always, ‘I’m sorry there’s nothing we can do for you,’” she said. “I stepped out of the office crying. It still brings tears to my eyes when I think about that.”

Shirley Ort is the director of the office of scholarships and student aid at UNC-CH and has worked with undocumented students in need of financial assistance.

She expressed frustration that her office cannot do more to help undocumented students, though she indicated that it funds six undocumented students through an unrestricted private account managed by the university.

The fund, she said, provides approximately $240,000 in tuition payments for these students. In comparison the university has about $80 million in restricted scholarship funds, said Ort.

“This is the gnat’s eyebrow,” said Ort of the unrestricted account. “I don’t know how students would afford to be here without some help from the university.”

The latest version of the DREAM Act, which the Senate is expected to vote on this week, eliminated provisions authorizing the use of federal financial aid or in-state tuition rates for undocumented students.

It also lowered the maximum age of those who qualify from 34 to 29.

Rosario’s story

Rosario Lopez excelled in math and science. Her calculus teacher was her favorite, even before she found Rosario a sponsor.

Like Loida, Rosario’s family brought her to the U.S. when she was 13 in search of a better life. But unlike Loida, Rosario’s teacher knew her status.

When Rosario was approaching her senior year at Southern High School in Durham, her calculus teacher encouraged her to take the SAT and AP pre-college tests. Next, the teacher found Rosario a sponsor who anonymously funded her entire undergraduate degree at UNC-CH.

“It’s a big mystery but also beautiful that someone who doesn’t know me has such a huge impact on my life,” said Rosario, who has since earned her degree in biology.

Private funding outside of a university is a common way for many undocumented students to pay for their education.

Though Rosario was fortunate to get her education, she has struggled to find work in her field. Without a Social Security number, Rosario says, she is unable to complete the background checks necessary to work in a laboratory.

“I still value my education a lot, but I can’t use it,” she said. “We see that people are not able to use their degrees, but we still go to college and keep trying. We know we are going to college, but we don’t know if it’s going to pay off.”

Rosario, now 25, said she has abandoned hopes of finding a job in biology and now works as a waitress to pay her bills. Her situation, she discussed, is emblematic of the experiences of other undocumented graduates who have no path to citizenship.

Other states have given college access to undocumented immigrants

North Carolina is not alone in permitting undocumented students to attend its universities. In fact, only two states — South Carolina and Georgia — forbid these students from enrolling altogether. University administrators and members of the General Assembly agree that this issue must be resolved at the federal level.

“The solution for this problem is squarely in the lap of Congress, and then the states will follow,” Ort said.

While state officials wait for a federal solution, 10 states have already passed legislation allowing in-state tuition rates for undocumented students, according to a 2007 report by the American Associate of State Colleges and Universities.

N.C. Sen. Tony Foriest, D-Alamance, co-chairman of the Appropriations on Education/Higher Education Committee, said the legislature has yet to spend significant time on immigration issues and suggested that a federal solution would be more realistic politically.

“The federal government needs to fix the problem,” Foriest said. “The federal government can provide a path to citizenship. What we can do as a state is certainly provide the means for that education . . . but the federal government sets the guidelines for what that’s going to take.”

Federal law prohibits states from offering in-state tuition to undocumented students without offering the same benefit to all U.S. citizens. However, some states have found ways to offer in-state tuition.

Texas passed laws in 2001 and 2005 redefining in-state tuition requirements based on high school attendance, not actual residency. California passed a similar law in 2001, which was recently upheld by the California Supreme Court in November.

As for funding, both Texas and New Mexico offer financial aid through state sources. Texas offers a limited number of state scholarships, said Andy Kesling, communications director for the Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board.

New Mexico offers scholarships to a majority of students attending its public universities through money earned from the state lottery.

Individual states have been able to make in-state tuition rates and state financial aid available to undocumented students because the federal government has not been able to take a stand on the issue, said Paul Parsons, an immigration attorney in Texas who worked alongside former Gov. Ann Richards on immigration issues in the 1990s.

“Our county has not vigorously enforced our immigration laws for the last 25 years,” Parsons said. “There is a real injustice if these students, who were raised in this country, are not allowed to pursue their education. Our society would be far better off to allow [undocumented] students to attend and graduate from colleges.”

The political reality

North Carolina lawmakers remain hesitant to approach issues concerning both education and immigration. In the legislature, democrats are wary of igniting opposition in the state.

Foriest, who lost his re-election bid to a Republican challenger in November, does not anticipate progress on this issue in the upcoming term.

“I suspect there would be a tremendous movement from members of the General Assembly to not concede anything to anyone who is not documented,” Foriest said. “There is a school of thought that…if you cut off giving undocumented people any kind of assistance . . . the people will stop coming, and the people that are here will leave.”

A statement from re-elected U.S. Sen. Richard Burr, R-N.C., illustrated the rhetoric found in this debate.

“The DREAM Act would reward those who have broken our immigration laws with citizenship and tuition benefits,” said Burr in a statement issued by his spokesman David Ward. “I do not believe it is appropriate to reward those who are in this country illegally at the expense of those who have followed the rules.”

N.C. Gov. Bev Perdue’s position is that immigration reform efforts should be done at the federal level and that it should not be “a patchwork quilt of 50 different state laws,” said Chris Mackey, a spokeswoman for the governor.

Some of the reluctance of state lawmakers to address immigration issues has ties to the experience of the state’s community colleges. When the NCCCS changed its policy in 2008 and again in 2009, Foriest said it “drew a lot of fire” from opponents who did not want undocumented students attending public universities.

Jane Shaw, president of the John W. Pope Center for Higher Education Policy, says the current system is a “reasonable compromise.”

“We at the Pope Center do not worship at the alter of diversity,” she said. “I think that there is some burden that should be on the students and their families who are here illegally.”

Waiting for Comprehensive Immigration Reform

Loida and Rosario first met in the summer of 2009. A year later they formed a group called the N.C. Dream Team in support of immigration reform. The group members bonded through their similar experiences and saw the DREAM Act as the next step toward their future.

For 13 days in June, Loida and Rosario held a hunger strike in downtown Raleigh to pressure U.S. Sen. Kay Hagan, D-N.C., to publicly endorse the DREAM Act. Loida described the hunger strike as “the moment” when she transformed from the shy girl in class to an empowered and unafraid individual.

“I was frustrated because I consider myself a North Carolinian, but nobody wanted to give me that opportunity,” she said. “I’m trying to make it through the cracks . . . trying to open doors, and they are slammed shut.”

Rosario also described the hunger strike as a turning point in her life. She has turned her attention to social work and hopes to attend graduate school in that field.

“As long as I can help someone else and help my community,” she said.

Hagan ultimately stopped short of endorsing the DREAM Act. In a statement issued by the senator’s spokesman Jack Pfeiffer, Hagan views comprehensive immigration reform as the best way forward.

Demanding a path

A consensus has emerged on all sides of the immigration debate that this issue will not be properly addressed until Congress passes comprehensive immigration reform. Opponents of the current DREAM Act argue in favor of border security, while its supporters say it is a necessary first step.

“Everyone tells us to get in line and to do this the right way,” Loida said. “But there is no line. The DREAM Act gives us this.”

Rosario remains hopeful that the DREAM Act will pass, though she says the “coming out” of many undocumented student activists about their status will offer inspiration to others should it be voted down.

“If it passes it will allow so many students that are silent to share their stories,” she said. “The community only knows what the media says about us.”

The recent passage of the DREAM Act in the U.S. House of Representatives can be credited, in large part, to undocumented student activists who “hammered it through,” said Paul Cuadros, assistant professor in the School of Journalism and Mass Communication at UNC-CH.

“It’s been the students who have led this fight,” he said. “A lot of kids have learned a lot of things about politics in this fight. [The country is] going to see some action from them in the future.”

For Loida, the DREAM Act has come to symbolize a traditional American value.

“It means more than education to me,” she said. “It means freedom to do what I want in my life.”

With no guarantees on the DREAM Act’s passage this week, the freedom of Loida and the hundreds of thousands of other undocumented students in her shoes will be placed on hold — yet again.

This article was reported as part of the J753 Reporting and News Writing course at UNC’s School of Journalism and Mass Communication.