It was on a train ride through the border town of El Paso, Texas, that Paul Parrish realized how being white allowed him to go unnoticed as U.S. Customs and Border Patrol agents searched inside for potential unauthorized migrants.
Parrish, who is undocumented, immediately thought, “Oh no, they’re here for me.”
But they walked past him and questioned a man with brown skin who looked Latino, he said. Turns out the man appeared to be “a fourth-generation Texan with a giant red, white and blue belt buckle. He was like, ‘I’m American!'” Parrish said.
Parrish, 26, is a recipient of the Obama-era Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA, program that grants deportation relief and work-authorization permits to young immigrants brought to the U.S. as children. President Donald Trump has moved to end it.
By outward appearances, many wouldn’t immediately guess that Parrish — a white native-English speaker born in South Africa — is part of a program whose recipients in California mostly hail from Mexico and Central America.
For Parrish, his identity gives him an unusual perspective on what it means to be undocumented under the Trump administration.
“It is amazing how accepting people are when you look like one of their own,” said Parrish, who is studying math at Cal State San Bernardino.
Parrish’s immigration status, however, like that of other DACA recipients, remains in limbo.
Status of DACA
Congress has been trying to come up with legislation to replace the program that then-President Barack Obama created by executive order since Trump announced almost six months ago that he would end it March 5.
In mid-February, the Senate failed to secure any of the immigration proposals benefiting DACA recipients.
Meanwhile, two federal judges have issued injunctions blocking the Trump administration’s move, allowing current DACA recipients to renew their permits but not allowing new applicants to the program.
Trump did appeal the first court ruling issued, asking the U.S. Supreme Court to take up the case. On Monday, Feb. 19, the Supreme Court took no action, but was expected to take up the case soon.
A right to remain?
To Parrish, not having the necessary legal paperwork shouldn’t mean people like him don’t deserve to remain in the country.
Most Americans agree.
A recent CBS News poll found that about 87 percent of Americans — including 79 percent of Republicans and 93 percent of Democrats — are in favor of allowing DACA beneficiaries to remain in the country.
However, anti-illegal-immigration advocates strongly oppose the program. Groups such as the Claremont-based We The People Rising often attend county or city public meetings across the region to oppose local — largely symbolic — measures supporting immigration reform or DACA recipients. They say local and federal governments should focus on U.S. citizens in need, such as homeless people and veterans.
Such DACA opposition recently played out in Riverside County, when the Board of Supervisors unanimously voted in favor of a resolution that endorses federal bipartisan legislation to continue DACA protections. Protesters displayed signs and spoke against the resolution.
Rancho Cucamonga resident Agnes Gibboney described DACA recipients as “illegal aliens” who “invaded our country.”
“They have no rights in our country,” she said. “Their parents made a decision to break our laws.”
Settling from South Africa
Parrish and his family arrived in the United States with tourist visas in 1996. They’re from South Africa, the southernmost country in Africa, which saw increasing numbers of skilled white workers leaving after apartheid ended in 1994, according to the CIA’s World Factbook.
They settled in Santa Ana where his father, who was part of the Anglican church in South Africa, found a job as a pastor. He said the church promised to help him get an employment visa, but that never happened. Their legal residency expired.
They lived undocumented in the mostly Latino city of Santa Ana, where Parrish remembers fearing “La Migra” — immigration authorities — like some of his neighbors.
He now lives in the largely white community of Crestline in the San Bernardino Mountains. He’s moved around a few times after his family relocated to Louisiana for work. Parrish knew he needed to stay in California, where undocumented students are eligible for in-state tuition.
In Crestline, Parrish said he’s talked with people who believe immigrants are taking jobs away from U.S. citizens.
“You’re just amazed because they have no idea that you’re an immigrant, and then you tell them and they’re confused,” Parrish said. “(They ask) ‘Why haven’t you become a citizen already?'”
“Because I can’t,” he tells them.
Parrish would have to first get a green card — legal permanent residency — in order to apply for citizenship. Most undocumented immigrants aren’t eligible for permanent residency. For those who are, the waits can last decades.
“It’s unrealistic,” he said.
Pursuing the American dream
Parrish aims to earn his degree and pursue a career as a pediatrician or as an emergency room physician. Ideally, if immigration reform happens, he’d like to join the U.S. military, he said.
If there is no DACA fix, he said he’d likely work as a handyman. Through DACA, he’s been able to work as a maintenance worker at Thousand Pines Christian Camp. The program granted him a work permit, letting him legally work in the U.S.
Though there is much uncertainty surrounding immigration, Parrish still aspires to achieve the American dream for himself and his family. His brother, who also excelled in math and chemistry, chose to go back to South Africa before DACA was implemented.
“He was tired of being rejected,” Parrish said.
Parrish said he feels he owes it to his parents to make it in the U.S.
“I’m going to do anything I can to pursue my dreams, whether it’s an easy road or a hard one,” he said.