And it starts all over again — saving students from deportation one private bill at a time.. Until Congress passes the DREAM Act, the future of thousands of students who simply want to contribute to the United States, hangs in limbo.

Source: St. Louis Dispatch

In the summer of 2003, Noe Guzman and his family — his mom, stepfather and baby sister — moved to New Haven from a small town in Michigan. Noe (pronounced Noah) had just turned 12 and was entering seventh grade. That might be a rough age to enter a new school — especially a small school where everybody has known everybody forever — but it didn’t seem to bother Noe. He was the only Hispanic kid in the class, but that didn’t bother him, either. He quickly made friends, and when he graduated two years later, he was salutatorian of the class.

High school has been more of the same. Now in the second semester of his senior year, he has been on the honor roll every semester. “He has an outstanding record of academics here,” said Rhonda Helling, a teacher at New Haven High School.

He has also been a pretty good cross-country runner. This year, though, he needed gallbladder surgery and couldn’t run. That didn’t stop him from supporting the team. “A lot of kids, if they couldn’t compete, would just drop out,” said John Tucker, the cross country coach and a history teacher. “But not Noe. He became the manager. He made sure the runners had water, and he was our biggest cheerleader.”

Noe also is a member of the student council and of the Future Business Leaders of America.

He wants to be a doctor. In other words, Noe is a small-town kid with big dreams. Sadly, Noe’s dreams are in the process of unraveling. That process began when Noe decided to join the Marine Corps.

By the way, the Marine Corps is filled with young men from small towns who decided that the service was a way to kick-start their dreams. That’s why the Marines send recruiters to small-town high schools. When the recruiters visited New Haven High, they set up a pull-up bar. Do 20 pull-ups and get a Marine Corps T-shirt. Noe did 22 pull-ups. “Have you ever thought about the Marine Corps?” a recruiter asked.

Yes, he had. “I love adventure,” he told me last week.

So this summer he went to the recruiter in nearby Washington and said he’d like to sign up for a delayed enlistment. He’d head to boot camp once he graduated from high school in May. No problem. The recruiter drove him to St. Louis to take the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery test. Noe did very well.

He returned Aug. 13 to take his physical. He was at the Robert Young Federal Building with other young people in the process of enlisting when a man in civilian clothes led Noe to a room. “Did you really think you could get away with this?” he asked.

“He looked angry,” Noe said. “I almost laughed. I think I said, ‘You must have the wrong guy.’”

Noe said the man told him to stand up and put his hands behind his back. The man handcuffed him, then shackled his feet. “Do you know what kind of trouble you’re in?” he asked Noe. He led Noe to another room.

A man from Immigration and Customs Enforcement was in the second room. Noe said he was calm and polite. The military had collected all of Noe’s identification, and now the man from ICE put Noe’s Social Security card in front of him. “This number does not belong to you,” he said.

Noe didn’t understand. He had used that Social Security number for work purposes. He had used that number when he filed taxes.

The man from ICE told Noe he was an illegal alien. Noe was stunned. He knew he had been born in Mexico; he had a vague memory of moving to the States with his mother at age 4. But illegally? The man from ICE told Noe that he could deport him right then. But he didn’t. Instead, he told Noe to call his mother.

She drove to St. Louis. She told Noe that yes, he was an illegal immigrant. Your father was abusive, and I needed to get us away from him, she said. She had purchased the Social Security card once they arrived in this country.

Noe was released on his own recognizance. He was given a court date in October, and then one in December. Both times, he appeared without a lawyer — his mother and stepfather have little money. He now has a court date in February.

I visited him Wednesday after school. I asked if he were really completely surprised when he learned he was here illegally. “Oh yes,” he said. “I never had any doubt I was a citizen.”

He said he had been told he had little chance of avoiding deportation. He said he had been told he would need to meet three criteria — 10 years’ residence in this country, no criminal record and somebody dependent upon him. He said nobody was dependent upon him.

He has an appointment Monday with a lawyer named Katie Herbert Meyer. She works for Interfaith Legal Service. I called her Friday afternoon. I told her what Noe had said about the criteria he would need to meet to stay in this country. Maybe if he had gotten married instead of trying to enlist he’d be all right, I said.

No, she said, a person facing deportation can file an application for cancellation of removal. That requires 10 years of residence, good moral character, a qualifying family member — parent, spouse or child — who is a citizen or a lawful permanent resident. Finally, the applicant must demonstrate that there would be an “exceptional and extremely unusual” hardship to that family member if the applicant were to be deported. Meyer said immigration judges were very strict when interpreting hardships.

It does not sound like Noe would qualify, I said.

Meyer said she had not been hired but would explore the situation when they met Monday for the initial consultation. “He is the exact type of person who would be helped if the Congress would pass the DREAM Act,” she said.

The Developmment, Relief and Education for Alien Minors Act was introduced in 2005 and would provide a path to legal residency for young people brought here as children, who fulfill requirements such as graduating from high school and attending college or serving in the military.

There is little chance of that passing in two weeks, I said.

“This is part of the broken immigration system you hear about,” she said.

I spoke with Carl Rusnok, the director of communciations for the central region of ICE. He said he could only confirm that Noe Guzman was referred to ICE after a Military Entrance Processing Station determined his Social Security number was fraudulent, and that his immigration hearing was scheduled for Feb. 3.

Noe said the waiting was tough. “Every day I look at the calendar and I think it might be another day closer to the last day I can be with my friends.”

We were able to get Noe some more legal support in the past few weeks. Stay tuned for updates on this case and possible action alerts.