Carla Liliana Espinoza

Opinion contributor

In November 2017, the manager at the bank where I had worked for more than two years asked me for an employment document proving that I could work legally in the United States. I told her I had submitted my request to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services five months earlier and showed her an email from the agency, saying everything was in order.

But Human Resources was on the phone for me.

I was told I had to clock out immediately. I wasn’t able to return for three months, when the hard copy finally arrived.

I am an undocumented immigrant. And the document in question was my renewal for the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, which enables eligible immigrants like myself, who came to this country as children, to live and work here legally. DACA was enacted in 2012, when I was 17. It enabled me to get the banking job I love and to pursue my bachelor’s in bilingual education at Sam Houston University in Huntsville, Texas.

Unfortunately, in September 2017, when the Trump administration said it would end the program, my life and those of 800,000 other "Dreamers" accepted into the DACA program, was thrown into chaos.

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When I first heard the announcement, I didn’t believe the president would actually go through with it. I thought, “They can’t take it away. There are too many people that it will affect.” But the day I was sent home from my bank job, I realized that, yes, he was prepared to bar us from our jobs and put us at risk for deportation.

I was terrified. My parents brought me to this country from Mexico when I was three months old, but until that day at the bank, I didn’t fully understand how different I was from my United States-born siblings and friends. Would I be able to work again? Would I be able to teach? Would I be deported to Mexico? I only knew of Mexico from pictures, so I was scared.

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For many months now, Dreamers like me have been living in a state of high anxiety. One day, we hear Congress plans to vote on a Dream Act and provide us a clear path to citizenship. The next day, the vote is called off. One day we hear DACA protections will be held hostage for funding for a border wall. Next we are told we have to wait until after the midterms.

Last month, we learned that a federal judge ordered DACA to be fully reinstated. Then on Aug. 31, District Judge Andrew Hanen, who presides in my hometown, Houston, said DACA is probably illegal, although he left the program in place. Now there's a budget agreement to keep the government open until Dec. 7, and DACA wasn't part of the negotiations. So we're still waiting.

While it’s a relief that Judge Hanen declined to end DACA, Dreamers like me are still left in limbo, watching from the sidelines as these powerful people make decisions that impact not only our futures but also our day-to-day lives. I hope that Congress will stop stalling and take action to protect the Dreamers so we can live in peace.

I’m doing my best to move forward: paying my taxes, going to work, and spending time with my family. Next year, I’ll graduate from Sam Houston University and I look forward to starting my career as a bilingual teacher, a role that will help address the critical teacher shortage in Texas, where bilingual teachers are particularly needed. New American Economy research shows that around the country, my college-educated DACA-eligible peers are also filling crucial roles, not just as teachers but also as accountants, nurses and engineers.

I’ve been lucky to have caring, supportive people in my life: from the second-grade teacher who inspired my career path, to my bank colleagues who worked hard to ensure I could return to my job as quickly as possible.

As public officials argue about lawsuits and legislation, I hope they can find that same compassion for hardworking young people like myself. I hope they will remember that we are their neighbors, and co-workers and friends. We have families and people we love, just like they do. They are not just arguing about abstract policies; they are playing with our lives.

Carla Liliana Espinoza is a bilingual education major at Sam Houston University in Huntsville, Texas.