Washington
Dozens of immigrant students, many wearing caps and gowns, held a mock commencement on Capitol Hill last week in support of pending federal legislation that could help them earn real college diplomas.

The high-school students, all undocumented immigrants, came from as far away as Texas and California. For two hours, they turned the Capitol's west lawn into a multicultural echo chamber. A hip-hop song boomed from a loudspeaker, followed by "Pomp and Circumstance" and "The Star-Spangled Banner." Korean-American students played drums. One student read aloud "A Dream Deferred," by Langston Hughes.

The gathering was both a celebration and a call for help by some of an estimated 65,000 undocumented immigrants who will graduate from high schools this spring. Many of the ceremony's participants said they could not afford college, or perhaps even remain in the United States, unless Congress passes S 1545, the Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors Act, known as the Dream Act.

The bill would allow undocumented immigrants who graduate from American high schools to pay in-state tuition -- instead of higher out-of-state rates -- at public colleges in their home state, and to apply for some types of financial aid. The bill would also permit qualified students to apply to become permanent legal residents.

Although the Dream Act has bipartisan support, its proponents are hesitant to predict a legislative victory. In election years, potentially controversial bills tend to gather dust, and immigration questions remain entangled in political debates over post-September 11 federal policies. Some legislators, as well as the Homeland Security Department's Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services, contend that the United States should deport illegal students, not grant them tuition breaks.

At last week's demonstration, however, Rep. Lucille Roybal-Allard, a California Democrat, told a crowd of activists and students that the children of immigrants face hardships "through no fault of their own."

"Exorbitant out-of-state tuition essentially bars most of these qualified youth from attending college," said Ms. Roybal-Allard, a cosponsor of the Student Adjustment Act, HR 1684, the Dream Act's companion bill in the House of Representatives. "These children lose an educational opportunity to develop their talents and, in turn, our country loses the benefits of their potential contributions as educated professionals and taxpayers."

Marie Nazareth Gonzalez was one of many honor students who attended the event. Ms. Gonzalez was born in Costa Rica, but grew up in Jefferson City, Mo. A senior at one of the state's top high schools, she has a 3.4 grade-point average and is a member of the National Honor Society and her high school's tennis and track teams.

Ms. Gonzalez had planned to attend college this fall, but she and her family, whose visas have expired, face deportation to Costa Rica. Under the Dream Act, though, she would have an opportunity to remain in the United States, graduate from college, and become a permanent resident.

"This country was made by immigrants," Ms. Gonzalez said. "What have I done to deserve deportation to a country I barely know?"

Differing Interpretations

The Dream Act, which was introduced last July by Sen. Orrin G. Hatch, a Utah Republican, would give states the discretion to determine whether to offer in-state tuition to students like Ms. Gonzalez.

State officials disagree over whether public universities that charge undocumented immigrants in-state tuition violate a provision of the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996 that states, "An alien who is not lawfully present in the United States shall not be eligible on the basis of residence within a state (or political subdivision) for any postsecondary education benefits unless a citizen or national of the United States is eligible for such a benefit ... without regard to whether the citizen or national is such a resident."

At least half a dozen states, including California, New York, and Texas, have crafted laws allowing undocumented immigrants to pay in-state tuition. Officials in those states say their policies do not violate the federal law. But the governors of Maryland and Wisconsin have cited their inability to comply with the same provision as a reason for vetoing similar bills.

The Dream Act also proposes a two-step legalization process for children of undocumented immigrants. They could become legal temporary residents if they had entered the United States before their 16th birthday, lived here for at least five years, maintained "good moral character" (meaning they had no convictions for certain crimes), and graduated from high school or enrolled at a college.

After six years, they would be eligible to become permanent legal residents if they had completed at least two years of a bachelor's-degree program or served for at least two years in the U.S. military.

Recent amendments to the bill would render such students ineligible for some forms of federal aid, including Pell Grants, and require colleges to enter undocumented immigrants into the Student and Exchange Visitor Information System, the same database that is used to track international students who study in the United States.

The amended bill cleared the Senate Judiciary Committee with bipartisan support but has not reached the floor. A spokeswoman for Sen. Bill Frist, the Tennessee Republican and Senate majority leader, said that while Dr. Frist supports "overall immigration-reform initiatives," he had not taken a public position on the Dream Act. A White House spokesman said President Bush had made no public remarks about the legislation.

A 'Sense of Fairness'

As they await news from Washington, some undocumented-immigrant college students hear a ticking clock.

Rishi, a freshman at Hunter College who asked The Chronicle not to publish his last name, said focusing on his studies has been a "mental struggle" because he does not know if he will be able to finish college.

Rishi and his family moved to the United States from Trinidad eight years ago. He was the valedictorian of his high school, in New York, and had hoped to attend St. John's University, in New York, to take pre-med classes. But without access to state or federal aid, his parents, who earn the minimum wage, could not afford the tuition.

Though they paid for his first year at Hunter, Rishi is not sure if they can afford three more years. He earns spending money baby-sitting for a family friend. Sometimes relatives in Trinidad send him money. They are proud that he is studying in America, Rishi says. He has not told them that he may have to drop out of college and scuttle his plans to become a pediatrician.

"I just tell them I'll try my best," he said.

Shoshi, a freshman at Queens College of the City University of New York, said her own relatives, in her native Bangladesh, have misconceptions about life here: "They think once you get there, you have a brighter future. I see darkness."

Shoshi and her mother have lived in the United States since 1996. Shoshi, who also asked that her last name not be used, finished near the top of her high-school class, in New York, and recalls her devastation upon learning that she could not apply for the same scholarships her peers had sought. Shoshi's mother, who earns $12,000 a year as a cook, could not afford to send her to a top college, and she scrambled to pay the $4,000 tuition at Queens.

The stories of those and other students have motivated activists on some college campuses. In April, for instance, college students in San Diego held a four-day "sleepless strike" in support of the Dream Act.

Jesse Taylor, a youth coordinator for the Latin American Integration Center, in New York, helped coordinate a national petition drive in support of the Dream Act, which reached many campuses. Generally, college students were receptive to the issue, he said, though he was careful not to describe the Dream Act as an immigration matter.

On campuses, he says, "we would ask, 'Do you have a minute to support education?' -- not 'the Dream Act.'"

Nausheen Iqbal, a fellow at Breakthrough, a New York nonprofit group that works with immigrants, agrees that a broad message will help win mainstream support for the Dream Act.

"You have to appeal to people's sense of fairness, the idea that if you work hard, you will achieve if you want to," Ms. Iqbal says. "These people are already here, already working; they're in your high schools."

'Now What?'

Despite its momentum now, the Dream Act could stall in Congress. Some legislators argue that the bill fails to deal with larger immigration problems. In written remarks submitted to the Senate Judiciary Committee last fall, Sen. Jeff Sessions, an Alabama Republican, predicted that the Dream Act would promote illegal immigration, calling the bill "a cyclical nightmare for the rule of law in immigration policy reform."

Although language in the Dream Act suggests that additional costs to taxpayers would be minimal, Dan Stein, executive director of the Federation for American Immigration Reform, said the Dream Act would stretch state and federal dollars and squeeze middle-class Americans.

"Invariably, when parents break the law, children have to deal with the consequences," Mr. Stein said. "There are limited numbers of in-state tuition spots in any state institution ... it's extremely unfair to give an enormous advantage to these people who have no right to be here."

Mr. Stein contended that the supporters of the Dream Act were pushing a broad political agenda in the guise of an educational initiative. "They want to go with an appealing population that's able to get more public sympathy," he said.

At the mock graduation here, several speakers did, in fact, refer to a broader legislative agenda -- but they made no apologies. Deepak Bhargava, executive director of the Center for Community Change, a nonprofit group that helped organize the event, called the Dream Act "the first step in a long struggle to fix the immigration system in this country."

But many of the high-school seniors at the rally were thinking no further ahead than this fall. After the "commencement" ended, each student received a diploma from "the American Dream High School," with signatures from five members of Congress. The students then marched to the U.S. Education Department where they delivered petitions, with more than 100,000 signatures, in support of the Dream Act.

As they streamed down the street in caps and gowns, some students hoisted posters that read "Education = the Immigration Dream" and "¡Educación Para Todos!" Others wore signs around their necks that asked a question with no simple answer: "Now What?"