They grew up, worked hard and earned good grades.

Their achievements got them into college, but, as undocumented immigrant students, they are denied access to state grants or institutional student aid programs.

Without a social security card and barred from obtaining a driver's license, undocumented students face daily obstacles in attending college classes and paying increasingly-expensive tuition costs, according to a group of undocumented immigrant University of California students and graduates who recently disclosed their personal struggles in efforts to pass the California Dream Act.

Profiled in a report, "Undocumented Students, Unfulfilled Dreams," released at a July 25 press conference at the UCLA Center for Labor Research and Education, the students, who only identify themselves by their first names to avoid the threat of deportation, hope their stories will pressure Assembly Speaker Fabian Nunez to move the stalled California Dream Act out of the Assembly Rules Committee to the floor for a hearing.

Vetoed last year by Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, the California Dream Act, renamed from SB 160 to SB 65, would provide undocumented students access to institutional merit-based scholarships and financial aid grants. It would also allow undocumented high school students who complete their degree at an adult school to seek eligibility as an "AB 540" student.

Although the 2001 passage of AB 540 permits eligible undocumented students to receive a non-resident fee waiver qualifying them for in-state tuition at public colleges and universities in California, these students currently may not apply or compete for any student aid program such as a State University Grant, UC Grant, or statewide student aid, including Cal Grants.

"Essentially, this really puts students between a rock and a hard place," said Stephanie, 21, a creative writing major who was brought at age three to the U.S. from the Philippines by her parents. A graduate of St. Stephen School in Monterey Park who had to leave San Gabriel Mission High School for financial reasons, Stephanie said undocumented families are "by and large very low income and can't support [students] in their education."

She's frustrated knowing that she can't apply for institutional scholarship money which is pooled from a percentage of each student's tuition. "We're paying full tuition, because we try and we save and we work three jobs at once to do it, and then we can't get that [scholarship money] back out."

Unable to afford dorm fees, Stephanie commutes by bus two hours each way to campus since she is ineligible for a driver's license. Like many of her undocumented college friends, she's considering grad school after college, since students who manage to fund their education and graduate cannot legally gain employment in the United States.

A degree that means nothing?
"I feel a lot of us are determined to continue our studies because at least in this point, that is the one safe place for us," said Stephanie. "As soon as we leave the academic world, there is sort of this question mark of 'Well, there's really not much we can do now. We can't use our degrees.' So, unless something else changes on the federal level, it's a very big wait and see."

"If the Dream Act doesn't pass, it won't give us the advantage of using our education," said Ernesto, a Chicano studies and political science double major who crossed the U.S. border from Mexico at age eight with his single mother and two brothers to reunite with his three older sisters. "We'll just get out of college with our degree, put it on the wall and be proud of it, but we can't really do anything about it."

A parishioner at St. Lucy Church in Long Beach, Ernesto hopes to attend law school and says his ultimate dream is to serve his community as a member of the California State Assembly.

"We're not trying to steal anything. We're not trying to do anything bad to the economy. We contribute just like any other civilian does," said Ernesto, who, besides working and attending school, volunteers for IDEAS, a multi-ethnic/cultural support group for undocumented students at UCLA that organized the July 25 press conference.

University of California graduate Tam, whose parents were Vietnamese boat people who immigrated to California from Germany when she was six years old, spoke at the IDEAS event after recently returning from Washington, D.C., where she testified before Congress about immigration law reform.

"Without the Dream Act, I have no prospect of overcoming my immigration status limbo," said Tam. "I'll forever be a perpetual foreigner in a country I've always considered my home."

A bipartisan Federal Dream Act providing a path to permanent residence for young men and women students brought to the U.S. as undocumented children has recently been introduced as an amendment to H.R. 1585 by Senators Richard Durbin (D-Ill.), Chuck Hagel (R-Neb.), and Richard Lugar (R-Ind.).

The federal Dream Act would provide a six-year path to residence and eventual citizenship to individuals brought to the U.S. as children at least five years ago. Supporters, including the U.S. Catholic bishops, consider the Dream Act good policy because it encourages tens of thousands of undocumented students to remain in school or serve in the military and allows them to contribute their talents to the country in the coming years.

"It's a gift to have been born in this country and have residency," said Ernesto. "But, we're working for it. We're working really, really hard for it."