Funding Law School as an Undocumented Immigrant
A story of dreams, adversity, and loteria games.
The law school admissions letters said I was accepted. Schools wanted me to be their student. But being accepted was only half the battle. Just when I thought I was past the most difficult part of the law school admissions process, I wondered how I was supposed to pay for law school as an undocumented immigrant.
The cost of attendance for an in-state student at the law school I was committed to attending was $40,000 per year. I had a couple of scholarships but still had to come up with over $20,000 by the end of the summer before my first year. The pressure was on.
This kind of pressure wasn’t unfamiliar. Previously, I had to strategically plan how I was going to fund my undergraduate studies. You see, in Texas, there’s legislation known as the Texas DREAM Act — not to be confused with the proposed DREAM Act at the federal level. The Texas DREAM Act’s main focus is access to education for undocumented immigrants.
Since 2001, undocumented immigrants in Texas are eligible to pay in-state tuition and receive grants at Texas colleges and universities. For the purpose of education, undocumented immigrants are considered Texas residents, allowing us to pay in-state tuition and qualify for state financial aid. To qualify for the Texas DREAM Act, a student must have:
- Lived in Texas the three years before graduating high school or received their GED certificate;
- Lived in Texas for a full year before enrolling into a Texas college or university;
- Sign an affidavit declaring their intention to apply for lawful permanent residence as soon as they are eligible.
The third qualification was always funny to me because all I ever wanted was to be a U.S. citizen and not have to deal with this kind of stuff. So, of course I signed that affidavit in a heartbeat. You didn’t even need to have it in writing, this was a promise to myself.
The Texas DREAM Act allowed me to fund my bachelor's degree at the state’s flagship university, The University of Texas. I paid in-state tuition, rather than the outrageously high international student tuition. Although, I still remember having to conduct all my student business through the university’s international student office. I also qualified for state grants & financial aid, and some merit scholarships.
Altogether, my undergraduate studies were all paid for. I graduated from The University of Texas with zero student debt.
But student debt was never even an option for me. You see, I don’t qualify for federal student loans because of my immigration status. So my mentality was always:
Either my education is all payed for or I don’t get an education.
I carried that mentality over to my next challenge: law school — except things were different. The Texas DREAM Act was still in play but there were caveats. Yes, I was still considered a Texas resident for in-state tuition, but I no longer qualified for state financial aid. The Texas Application for State Financial Aid was only available for my undergraduate studies, not law school or any other graduate degrees. This meant there were even fewer sources to draw funds from.
I still remember running this scenario in my head:
Cost of attendance: $40,000. Scholarships: $20,000. Left Outstanding: $20,000. I don’t qualify for federal loans. That’s just one year. What do I do?
But when all your life has been an uphill battle, this was just another obstacle in the way. All I had was motivation and a goal, and that was all I needed. Prior to going to law school, I learned about the power of community and grassroots organizing. So I took the skills I learned from those experiences and began a fundraising campaign for my law school tuition.
The Summer Before Law School
First, I needed a centralized place where I could receive donations so I started a GoFundMe campaign. Within the first week of starting the campaign and sharing it on social media, I received close to $5,000. Early on, I realized that I needed to do more than just share my campaign on social media. I needed to bring the community together somehow and let them be part of this journey with me.
Upon moving to San Antonio, I contacted local businesses that were interested in doing a profit share. The idea was to assign a business day where a percentage of the sales would go toward my GoFundMe campaign. This was a great way to connect with the businesses in the community. This brought in a couple of hundred dollars. I needed to fundraise more.
The fundraising ideas were endless.
I partnered up with a local print shop to make custom shirts that I sold for $25 apiece. This was fun. I enjoyed working with a local artist who was also undocumented to create the “Los DREAMERS” Loteria design on the shirt (see photo below).
I sold them everywhere: Online, at my apartment building, to local law firms. I even sold one at a street corner. Everywhere. But still, I needed to fundraise more.
I set up my fundraising campaign to build up to the main event. To keep it in theme, I organized a Loteria fundraiser (the Mexican version of bingo) at a local vegan restaurant and bar — La Botanica. I was drawn to this restaurant as the venue for my fundraising event because La Botanica was more than just a restaurant serving delicious Tex-Mex vegan food, it was a gathering place for the community.
So, in the last few weeks before law school was to start, I hosted a Loteria fundraiser at La Botanica. It drew a huge crowd, more than I could’ve imagined. We played Loteria, gave away local art, and really felt the power of community. It was a success! With all the money from the Loteria games and part of the profits from the food and drinks, we raised over $2,000.
In the summer before entering law school, I raised over $17,000. Despite the challenges, I made it happen all thanks to the wonderful network of family, friends, and the community. My first year was mostly paid for.
Funding a law school degree shouldn’t be this difficult.
Unfortunately, I failed out of law school due to its rigor and financial stress, but I was still left with the motivation to serve immigrants someway, somehow.
Having had the experience of funding law school as an undocumented immigrant, I continued to organize fundraisers to build a scholarship fund for undocumented students pursuing post-graduate programs and degrees. And that’s how the DREAM scholarship was born.
