President Barack Obama’s re-election has assured many undocumented youths that deferred action will remain in place. Deferred action, an executive order issued in June from Obama to give work permits to undocumented youth, has offered hope for many undocumented immigrants who came to the country under the age of 16. They now have the chance to earn legal status in the country they call home.

Erick Huerta and Martha Melendrez are two active members in Dream Team L.A., a non-profit organization run by undocumented immigrants to promote the DREAM Act, which is short for Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors.

Melendrez, 23, came to the country at the age of 13. She handed in her deferred action application two months ago and is still waiting for the result. She is currently a graduate student at California State University, Los Angeles where she is studying social work. She said there weren't any issue in her application and she felt relieved after she handed it in.

Melendrez said she couldn’t believe how fast the defered action process went. She has been waiting for this opportunity for 10 years.

She said if feels surreal to think about getting a social security number, which will save her from her fear of deportation. She said the first thing she would do after getting a work permit is to get a driver's license, and then look for a job to pay for her graduate degree.

“I feel happy because all hard work pays off,” she said. “But at the same time, I feel sad for friends who are not going to be benefited, because they age out.”

The Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals is only open to people under the age of 31 as of June 15, 2012, and have continuously resided in the U.S. since June 15, 2007.

Melendrez said deferred action is just the beginning, and the country is better equipped for a bigger and broader national campaign on immigration reform.

“We shouldn’t settle down for a work permit,” Melendrez said. “Our movement has gained so much momentum, so much power. It’s time to push for a broader change.”

Erick Huerta on being undocumented

Erick Huerta spends most afternoons in Primera Taza Coffee, a little café close to Mariachi Plaza in East Los Angeles. The 28-year-old with a characteristic mustache spends a lot of time working on his computer in the café. Most of the things he writes on the Internet are about undocumented immigrants like himself.

Huerta came to the U.S. with his parents and two sisters from Mexico at the age of 7. He slept through the drive across the border, which his family crossed without papers, and hasn't left the U.S. since.

Huerta has always known he is undocumented but didn’t understand the importance of the fact. He listened to his parents and simply told people he had papers when they asked.

“I was a kid,” Huerta smiled. “If you tell me black is blue, I believe that.”

He quickly blended into the new environment and culture when he started school. His identity became an issue, though, when Huerta entered high school. During that time, the teenager connected immigration status with his working class parents’ hardships. He said he felt like an American kid, and an American kid who didn’t want to work under the table like his parents.

When he finished high school, Huerta fell into a depression over his legal status.

“I looked at it as I can’t do all of these things, so I am not going to do anything,” he said.

His perspective changed gradually through learning about the issue of undocumented immigrants, and more access to resources which helped him understand that he wasn’t alone.

He became part of the movement to promote the DREAM Act. His interest in journalism and advocacy work grew. He began applying the skills he learned in journalism class to telling his own stories and that of his peers as well.

He used to see being undocumented as the sole barrier to living a better life because of the difficulty in getting a driver's license and a social security number. But now Huerta believes his families’ troubles stem largely from their status as working class. There is only one car in his family, for example, so there is no need to learn to drive.

“It was a normal thing,” he said. “Everybody was broke. Everybody has one car. Nobody really drives. Everybody takes the bus. We are all working class. We are all poor. It’s just how it is.”

He said in the Latino community, not having papers is very common too.

“You don’t have papers? I don’t have papers either. So what’s the big deal," he laughed.

He said he is scared of being deported but it doesn’t bother him much now. He said understanding the deportation process takes the intimidation away. He learned how to communicate with police through growing up in a high-crime area and experiencing a lot of police interaction. He said the key is to be honest and humble.

Now Huerta is an active member of Dream Team L.A., a non-profit organization run by undocumented youths to promote their rights. He advocates on Facebook and has published several articles on Huffington Post.

He said being poor nurtures his tenacity and aspirations to speak for his people. Huerta also tries to look on the bright side of being undocumented. For example, he said not being able to drive saves him from paying car insurance and related bills and makes him more environmentally friendly. Even if he got his citizenship tomorrow, he said, he wouldn’t change a thing about his current life.

Deferred action is something Huerta has been waiting for his whole life. Currently, he is trying to get all his school records and other documents for the application. He worries that a jaywalking ticket might be an issue for the application. Many lawyers say the deferred action guidelines regarding applicants' convictions are unclear as to which misdemeanors, or if all, would disqualify an applicant. 

“It’s a work permit. I’ll no longer work under table,” Huerta said. “It’s going to open up a lot of opportunities.”

 

Read more of Neon Tommy's coverage on deferred action here.

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