The budget deal hashed out by Congress this week rang hollow for me, as a new lawyer and DACA recipient, and served as a sharp reminder of how much more work we have to do so that 700,000 immigrant youth like me across the country can live with peace of mind and stability.

The Supreme Court’s recent decision to refuse to hear the Trump administration’s arguments to dismantle DACA, or the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, was an important victory, signaling that the court wouldn’t be bullied into complicity with the administration’s goal of deporting hundreds of thousands of hardworking young people. But both the president’s words and the court’s decision underscored how much we need the certainty that only legislation from Congress can provide: Our lives, as well as those of our family members, friends and colleagues, depend on it. The budget deal failed to include that kind of legislation.

My parents and I immigrated to the United States from Mexico more than 20 years ago, crossing the border to find a safer home in the Houston area; I grew up in southeast Houston and Pasadena. My parents were incredibly supportive and worked hard to provide me with as many educational and extracurricular activities as possible. I was blissfully unaware of my undocumented status until I needed to provide a Social Security number for a Pasadena Memorial High School driver’s ed class. At the time, I didn’t know any other undocumented kids to whom I could relate, and my status caused me an enormous amount of anxiety.

I had always wanted to be a civil rights attorney. I wanted to ensure that justice was done for marginalized communities. But when my parents told me the truth about my status, I finally understood firsthand the fear, uncertainty and loneliness that comes with living in the shadows.

So, when I became a DACA beneficiary in 2012, I felt compelled to share my story and join other immigrant youth. That newfound friendship drew me further into advocacy. It also helped me recognize the critical need for competent, compassionate immigration attorneys in my own community. I quickly found my passion for working with immigrant survivors of gender-based violence and tried to learn as much as I could about how to represent them.

That drive to help my fellow immigrants is more powerful than any fear that comes with being undocumented. That’s why I sought out every learning opportunity possible at the University of Houston and UH’s law school, participating in legal clinics as a student attorney and interning with the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund to end family detention centers in Texas that lock up predominanatly Central American women and children.

After my second year of law school, I interned at the Tahirih Justice Center, where I had the privilege of representing courageous immigrant survivors of gender-based violence. Now, after graduating from law school, I work there as an immigration attorney, helping survivors of gender-based violence in underserved communities throughout Houston.

Simply put, DACA has been life-changing for me — and allowed me to change the lives of my fellow Houstonians.

Not only has the program let me remain in the country I’ve called home for more than 20 years, but it has also granted me the opportunity to thrive and live my life with greater certainty. I’ve met many other DACA recipients — students, workers, parents, clients — who have flourished under DACA both in their careers and by supporting loved ones. Without the fear of deportation hanging over us, my fellow immigrant youth and I have benefited the communities we call home and blossomed as proud Americans.

The Supreme Court may have bought us a few more months, but the Trump administration will undoubtedly try again soon to rip immigrant youth out of our lives. It’s up to Congress to act with urgency to ensure that we can continue thriving and contributing to the only country we know as home.

Perez is a Houston-area immigration attorney and DACA recipient.