Collegians Get By Despite Illegal Status

In the life of an undocumented immigrant college student, finding creative ways to save money can be a job in itself, Luis Perez said Saturday at a conference to assist students like himself.

While attending UCLA and unable to get financial aid because of his immigration status, Perez went to all the student club meetings he could find because they served free food.

An immigrant from Guadalajara, Mexico, who grew up in Pacoima, he went to Asian American club meetings. He observed Ramadan with the Muslim Student Assn., fasting all day, then eating at night.

He often slept in the library and showered in the school’s gym before finally renting a three-bedroom Westwood apartment with six other men. He checked out textbooks from the L.A. public library and kept them for the semester, preferring to pay the $20 late fee rather than the $500 it would have cost to buy the books.

The daily challenges to get through college “make you stronger,” said Perez, 24, who graduated in June with a political science degree and wants to attend law school next fall. “We’re forced to be creative. If you have a necessity, you’ll find a way to work it out.”

On Saturday, Perez was among those who helped organize a conference at Cal State Dominguez Hills to advise undocumented immigrant college students and their parents on how to pay for school.

In 2001, illegal immigrants like Perez were first allowed to attend state colleges and universities while paying in-state tuition, provided they had completed three years of high school in California. But federal law prohibits them from receiving government financial aid. So four years after the law’s passage, paying for school is one of the biggest obstacles facing this new class of college students.

Those at the conference were told that money to pay for college can come in unorthodox ways.

Laura Barrerra, who was an aide to then-Assemblyman Marco Firebaugh, the legislator who sponsored the state law in 2001, said she knows of some high schools that have taken donations from businesses and funneled the money directly to graduating seniors who are undocumented so they could pay for college.

She urged them to seek scholarships from businesses. “You create your own opportunities,” Barrerra said.

Undocumented students described dividing their lives between normal college student activities and striving to survive in ways that break the law. Those who could afford cars told of being careful to avoid driving recklessly, lest a police officer stop them and ask to see a driver’s license they can’t obtain.

Concentrating on studies can be hard under such conditions, they said.

“One day you could have a good job and classes are going well. The next day, you’re fired and you’re like, ‘OK, how do I pay for next semester?’ ” said Carolina Cuoto, an illegal immigrant college student in her senior year at Cal State Dominguez Hills studying psychology and philosophy.

Cuoto, 24, said she was paid in cash for jobs at cleaners and a jewelry store, then obtained a phony Social Security number and founds jobs at a supermarket and a Chuck E. Cheese’s restaurant.

One day at the supermarket, her boss said he had good news and bad news: She was getting a promotion and a raise, he said. At the same time, her employers had discovered that she had a phony Social Security number, and if she couldn’t fix the problem she’d be fired, which happened a few days later.

Cesar Perez, 24, no relation to Luis Perez, is an illegal immigrant studying at Dominguez Hills to be a teacher. To find work, he said, he had to buy a phony work permit on Alvarado Street near downtown L.A.

“Most of our decisions are based on our status,” said Luis Perez, who opted not to finish a minor in ethnic studies because it would have required two more classes and he wanted to get his degree quickly.

Now, it’s unclear whether he will be deported to Mexico or admitted to law school.

On Sept. 16 -- Mexican Independence Day -- government officials notified him and his parents that they would be deported. The government had discovered their illegal status when they applied for residency, Perez said.

He had been studying for his law school entrance exam by reading a prep book in the UCLA bookstore for hours every day to avoid paying for it.

He has taken the law school entrance exam anyway and is waiting for his test scores and for word from the federal government.

He’s applying to law schools in the meantime, especially those, such as UCLA and New York University, that offer full scholarships.

“Deportation is the one thing we can’t control,” he said, “so the best thing we can do is put it on the back burner” and not think about it.

Besides, he’s not worried, now that he’s got his degree.

“They’re not going to take away my brain if I get deported,” he says. “I’m taking my degree with me.”