DACA recipients were brought to the country when they were minors, as their parents were looking for better living conditions. Now, with their applications on hold, they are at risk of being deported from the only place they call home.

Veronica Velazquez, 27, was working at the Martin Luther King Hospital when it was named the local epicenter of the pandemic in January 2021. When the hospital reached 300% capacity, she saw COVID patients lined up in the hallways, overflowing into their former gift center. Velazquez was a DACA recipient risking her life during the peak of the pandemic. She was not aware, however, that three months later she was going to be losing her working rights, health insurance and be facing the risk of deportation.

Dr. Velazquez worked at the MLK Hospital during the pandemic, but she lost her job when her DACA expired.

Image courtesy of Veronica Velazquez

During the pandemic, with a schedule full of patients, she saw her mental health decline, while putting her body on the frontline and not receiving any support from management.

“That was probably the hardest time; being around this chaos and seeing the amount of, you know, death all around. It's something I would never wish upon any health provider, or anyone who just wants to make a living,” Velazquez declared.

Veronica Velazquez is one of thousands who have built a life in the United States and are now living in fear of deportation, while waiting for their DACA applications to go through. During the start of the pandemic, a stockpile of DACA applications were neglected, leaving approximately 55,000 people in limbo about their status. On July 16, 2021, U.S. District Judge Andrew Hanen ruled that the DACA program was illegal and blocked Biden’s administration from processing new applications. This ruling leaves around 80,000 people undocumented.

DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) was first established by former U.S. President Barack Obama in 2012. The program protects around 615,000 people, also known as Dreamers, who were brought into the United States illegally before the age of 16. It also allows recipients to obtain a driver’s license, social security number, work permits, and health insurance. However, they must renew their applications once every two years as official legal statuses are not granted. Since the launch of the program, DACA beneficiaries have been fighting for a pathway to citizenship.

When former U.S. President Donald Trump attempted to revoke the DACA program on numerous occasions, the bulk of the fight turned to simply keeping the program alive. Now, people who have resided in the United States for years are facing increasing hardship. Individuals in the community were fired from their jobs, lost their health insurance, and are at risk of deportation.

Arlette Morales, 18, is struggling to see how her future will unfold, as her DACA application has been on hold since 2020, and she is starting college this upcoming fall.

She has been living in York, Pennsylvania since she was two years old, the age of when her parents brought her from Mexico. Being an undocumented teenager and trying to navigate through career options was difficult, due to her immigration status. When Morales was in high school, she was interested in pursuing a career in law enforcement and wanted to join the Law Enforcement Club to explore her interest further. However, as she was not a US citizen, she was unable to participate.

Arlette Morales celebrates her Spring 2021 high school graduation.

Image courtesy of Arlette Morales

Morales will attend York College in Pennsylvania to study Criminal Justice. She strives to become a detective. The application process, however, came with great costs. She was not eligible for many state funding opportunities, nor for FAFSA (Free Application for Federal Student Aid), and as a result, she spent her senior year trying to find outside scholarships that did not ask for a status in the country.

“There was a lot of paperwork that I had to go through and sometimes, I didn’t know if I was going to be able to go to college because of money,” Morales declares.

For her, growing up as an undocumented teenager limited her experience. She could not have a job, while the rest of her friends were out getting their first taste of employment, and she could not move about as freely.

“There is a fear of running into a police officer and not being able to provide a license or proper identification,” she added.

Ashkan Yekrangi, an immigration lawyer with a practice in Orange County, noticed a pattern that prevents DACA applications from getting accepted. When applicants have had a DUI when younger, or have gotten into school fights, their applications as adults have often been rejected. Undocumented people need to be far more cautious of their actions throughout their lives - even as minors – to avoid jeopardizing their DACA opportunities.

“It’s sad because people who have lived here their whole lives and are eligible for DACA, can’t apply because of something that happened years ago,” Yekrangi said. “I find it odd that US citizens may not have a significant misdemeanor after a DUI, and their lives are not as affected, but when it comes to the DACA community that is a determining point,” he added.

Veronica Velazquez was only ten years old when she was brought into the United States by her parents, from the Philippines. Having lived here for 17 years already, she has faced numerous challenges of being undocumented, while working hard to complete both Bachelor's and Doctorate degrees, and trying to earn a legal place in the country.

When she applied to college to major in physical therapy, she received an acceptance letter that was later revoked when the university found out about her status.

Dr. Velazquez holds a Doctorate in Physical Therapy, yet struggles with her employment status.

Image: Sara Al-Ansari, Clara Preve-Durrieu, Yasmin Sanie-Hay

“It was frustrating because I felt like I was doing everything right. Receiving an acceptance letter is them telling me that I'm a good applicant; I have all of the necessary grades, letters of recommendation, community service done,” Velazquez said. “I'm good on all those fronts, but the only thing that is holding me back is my immigration status. That just didn't feel right,” she added.

For Gloria Itzel Montiel, 36, she encountered some of her first struggles in the eighth grade. Montiel wanted to attend a private school to receive a better education. However, not having a social security number restricted her from applying.

“Being undocumented means that you are closed out of financial aid opportunities, and sometimes college admissions,” she realized.

Gloria Itzel Montiel, a Community Health Strategist at Alta Medical, has continued working on projects with her team during the pandemic.

Image: Sara Al-Ansari, Clara Preve-Durrieu, Yasmin Sanie-Hay

Gloria attended Harvard University to study English and American literature, as it was one of the top universities that did not take citizenship status into account. However, once there, she searched for help in the powerful institution, but their response was “to pretend like this conversation never happened,” as they considered that they had to report any illegal situation.

“It was confusing to hear that type of criminalizing language because I never identified myself as someone illegal. Some administrators in the university had clearly admitted me, while others were telling me I was doing something wrong by being there. It was heartbreaking.” Itzel Montiel said.

When Arlette Morales was 14 years old she realized that she needed to protect her community. For her, the Trump administration increased many people’s confidence in their racist attacks against minority communities. She also noticed that the President set an example through vitriolic speech and actions of his own, which led people to think it was “okay to speak in hateful ways” and that it “opened a door for them.”

Four years ago, in the middle of a soccer game, a boy who had never met Morales approached her and started screaming “ build the wall” and “go back to your country.” Not enough was done when she attempted to seek help from one of the responsible adults in the situation.

Arlette Morales speaks out for the undocumented community at the Harrisburg Capitol, Pennsylvania.

Image courtesy of Arlette Morales

Sharet Garcia, 39, has been a DACA recipient for seven years and was brought into the country from Mexico when she was eight years old. During her experience, she has seen the fluctuations in the DACA program and noticed the exhausting journey that undocumented people face every day. This is why she created a social platform called Undocumented Professionals, which has gathered 800 professionals, to give voice to the undocumented community. It’s also where she finds the space to express her worries and to discuss topics that are usually not talked about in public.

“I've been getting a lot of hate comments for the things I post,” she said.

Some of the messages she received were: “ I would never give a job to someone who is undocumented”; “I would prefer to give it to a US citizen” ; “What you’re doing is illegal, but that’s fine, nobody is going to hire you anyways.”

Sharet Garcia has gathered 800 professionals in the online platform, 'Undocumented Professionals.'

Image: Sara Al-Ansari, Clara Preve-Durrieu, Yasmin Sanie-Hay

For Veronica Velazquez, the sense of community with others who share and understand many of her challenges is what helped her stop living in fear of speaking out and getting deported. Since she was protected with her DACA status, she wanted to use that security to “speak up for the folks that didn’t have that opportunity.” Her Instagram page called @thisptlife, which has 16,000 followers, shares her experiences and thoughts about what DACA recipients are facing.

Society, however, has a big misconception about undocumented people, and she is constantly receiving messages that blame her for stealing jobs.

“We have earned our spot and employment. I earned a doctorate degree. That was not easy by any means, so I fully believe that most undocumented people deserve their titles and jobs; we are not stealing anything,” Velazquez said. “Undocumented folks pay taxes but aren’t able to receive the benefits of federal programs or aid. We’re supporting a lot of these federal and state systems,” she added.

Today, as the US is beginning to come out of the pandemic, DACA recipients, many of whom were once putting their lives at risk for the rest of society, are now facing the risk of deportation. They live in a state of constant limbo, not knowing what’s going to happen tomorrow.

Velazquez is now working as an independent consultant, as she was fired from the hospital where she worked during the pandemic. Basic rights and privileges were stripped from her after not receiving her processed status, despite sending and completing her application on time.

“It is terrifying and exhausting because for me, it's been 17 years now. It's been a long time of not knowing what is going to happen tomorrow,” Velazquez declares. “We are not being recognized by society; the basic benefits of simply having safety and employment are constantly taken away from us,” she added.

Velazquez identifies as “100% American.” It’s where she completed school, got her undergraduate and doctoral degrees, and built her career and personal life.

“I'm pretty much like an American. The only thing missing is a path for citizenship,” Velazquez said. “Going back to the Philippines would be devastating because it's not home; I never lived there, I don't have a community other than my own family. The community I have here - my friends, my significant other, my loved ones - that's what I call home,” she added.

Veronica Velazquez unwinds after work while reading and spending time with her pup, Raja.

Image: Sara Al-Ansari, Clara Preve-Durrieu, Yasmin Sanie-Hay

Immigration lawyer Ashkan Yekrangi highlights how difficult it is for DACA recipients to build a career in the United States since they have to base their lives on a two-year renewal program. In addition to this, a lot of that time is spent getting their next application ready, considering that processing times can vary between six to eight months.

With today’s situation, Yekrangi is worried about the people who have been laid off from their jobs, and some who have even put all of their savings into this new application, which has now been put on hold.

“I don’t understand why companies are not allowing people to have a couple of weeks or months of flexibility until they sort their applications out,” he said.

In November 2019, the Biden administration said that DACA recipients are Americans and that a pathway for citizenship should be made for them. However, up to this date, he has not kept his promises of the reinstatement of DACA.

Velazquez pauses, thinking about the change in administration. “I'm a little worried a lot of it was just a nice thing to say out loud, as we haven't seen too much action,” she declares.

While Veronica was working at the hospital during the peak of the pandemic, she was not the only one in jeopardy. Veronica lives with her parents, who risked being hospitalized if they caught COVID - going to work everyday and coming back home meant there was a lot at stake. However, as one of the only members of her family who could make a living, Veronica continued to expose herself to help both her family and the community in the fight against COVID-19.

“Years ago I would have never done an interview like this because there is that fear,” she said. “My parents still think that if you talk too much about your status you are at risk for deportation. I used to live like that.”

DACA recipients are now facing the risk of having to move their whole lives out of the country. Despite mounting anxiety, exhaustion and frustration, they continue the fight to find their status in the United States, the place they call home.

“It's really scary,” Velazquez said. “I never thought of leaving this country, it’s where I grew up.”