As a teacher in Los Angeles, I spend my days working with students who have benefited from Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals — the landmark policy, also known as DACA, that grants immigrants who entered our nation as minors deferred action from deportation and eligibility for a work permit.
{mosads}Over the past year and a half, I have watched as President-elect Donald Trump has repeatedly pledged to immediately rescind this policy upon taking office. I have listened as he has rationalized his decision, characterizing young immigrants as “criminals” who make our country less “safe” and should be “deported.”
I have taught many DACA students over the years and know this characterization is false.
Take a junior in my class this year, I’ll call her Elizabeth. She has lived in the United States for nearly 10 years and hardly remembers life in El Salvador, the country in which she was born. For years, her mother worked tirelessly and saved to not only ensure that Elizabeth and her older sister could come to America and live a better life, but also to able to afford the application fees necessary to enroll them both in DACA.
Elizabeth is aware of her mother’s sacrifices and is determined to make sure that her mother’s hard work is not in vain. She applies herself in class and cleans houses with her mother part-time to help support her family.
Since the tender age of 11, she has dreamed of nothing else but of going to college and becoming an engineer — and DACA would allow her to do exactly that, so that she could one day become an active and contributing member of our society.
But now, with DACA under threat as Trump assumes office next week, Elizabeth dreams are turning into a nightmare. She has suffered from panic attacks since the election, anxious that her opportunities, the plans she has made for herself and worked so hard to carry out, may all being taken away.
“Going back to a country with many problems including gangs and drugs scares me,” Elizabeth recently wrote of potentially having to return to El Salvador. “My family over there lives in fear of being assaulted.”
As an educator, I cannot stand idle while students like Elizabeth live with such fear and hopelessness — it goes against the core of what it means to be a teacher. It is our responsibility to protect our most vulnerable students and open doors of opportunity to them.
That’s why, right here in Los Angeles, we will not stay silent as our students’ futures are placed in jeopardy.
The Los Angeles Unified School District has pledged to take a stand on behalf of its immigrant families, declaring every public school in the city as a “safe zone” for undocumented students.
Earlier this year, the district directed schools to prohibit U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officials looking to deport students from entering schools without a thorough review process.
And just last month, the district promised that, should President-elect Donald Trump attempt to turn its storage of student information against their families, it will resist that attempt “to the fullest extent provided by the law.” It’s an action that I urge school districts across our country to join us in taking.
While our district offers legal support, at Franklin High School — where I teach — we are also committed to doing what we can to empower our students with information. In collaboration with the American Civil Liberties Union, my school will host a forum to explain to our immigrant students and their parents their legal rights and what to do in the event that they are detained by ICE.
Through education, we hope to ease the minds of the many students who live in fear of being detained and deported because they or a member of their family is undocumented.
President-elect Trump, this is what DACA really is: a light that has guided Elizabeth and countless other gifted, hard-working young people out of the shadows. It is the core of the American dream, that each generation should be able to build a better life for the next generation.
It opens the doors to opportunity for the millions of immigrant children who proudly claim the United States as their home — and, in many cases, the only home that they have ever known.
Until this new administration can see the value in continuing this vital program, I hope that my fellow teachers — in Los Angeles and in cities nationwide — will join me in vowing to stand up for our students, for DACA, and for what we know is right.
Miguel Covarrubias teaches Social Studies at Franklin High School and is a member of Educators for Excellence-Los Angeles. He has developed curriculum for the Stanford Education Group, LAUSD and the ACLU, and he was the recipient of the United Way Inspirational Teacher Award in 2014.
The views of Contributors are their own and are not the views of The Hill.