Campaign Action
Remember that Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) isn’t just about hugely consequential protections like work permits and a shield from deportation, it’s also about the most ordinary of things that many people take for granted every single day, like being able to drive legally. Before DACA existed, Gladys Torres Avalos didn’t have a car because her status prevented her from applying for a driver’s license. And when you can’t work legally, that means taking any job, even if it’s a nearly three hour commute each way by bus, like in her case. Luckily, she was able to carpool to her new job a little over an hour away by car. But then:
That day in 2011, as we hit 40 mph, the car begins to wheeze, huff and puff. We look at each other nervously. There’s no shoulder, and the next exit is a quarter mile away.
After numerous honks from angry freeway drivers and in the face of a dying car, we make it out of the freeway and turn into a residential street. There, the car proceeds to die forever.
The driver lost her car that morning, and I lost my mode of transportation to my first day of work.
When Torres Avalos called her boss to explain what happened, she was fired on the spot. “Before DACA’s initiation on June 15, 2012,” she writes, “commuting to work was a constant struggle. I had to have a job not only to pay bills or food, but also to be able to afford junior college courses and books.” Then came DACA. Torres Avalos was able to apply for a driver’s license, find a job she actually liked, and buy a (reliable!) car to get there in order to keep it. Above all, it meant freedom. While L.A. traffic meant she still spent a lot of time driving, she “didn’t mind the long commute. While people typically complained about spending a lot of time on the freeway, I felt—even while sitting in heavy traffic—like I was free in my own car”:
Overall, it took me five years to complete my transfer requirements at my junior college. My transfer was mainly delayed because, without a car, I was constantly forced into taking semesters off. Having to carpool to work and back home meant that my academic future was dependent on someone else’s schedule.
If DACA wasn’t implemented in 2012, I would probably still be struggling to balance my commute with finishing my academic requirements.
Purchasing my first car paved the road for my eventual transfer to UC Berkeley. And I’m glad the drive has led me here.
While DACA recipients can now apply for driver’s licenses in all U.S. states, only 12 states and Washington, D.C. allow undocumented immigrants overall to apply, despite the fact that allowing them to do so makes our roads safer. Permanent protections, like the DREAM Act, would help ensure public safety for all communities regardless of immigration status, and the additional Department of Motor Vehicle (DMV) driver’s license fees would be another part of the economic boon from such legislation. This shouldn’t be remotely controversial. What is controversial is the Republican Congress’s continued inaction.