I grew up in Idaho. If I take my kids to visit their grandparents, I can’t come back | Opinion

My daughter was seven years old when she learned about my immigration status. After hearing about her classmate’s spring break plans, she asked, “Why can’t we go to Mexico to visit Grandma?” I had to explain that even though she was born in Idaho and is a U.S. citizen, I came here from Mexico 22 years ago at age 13 and am still considered undocumented. If we left the country, I wouldn’t be able to get back in.

Now my daughter is 11, and she’s since asked many more questions — namely what could happen to me once I can’t renew my work permit through the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program that’s been shuttered during a long court battle.

Now more than 2,500 young adult immigrants in Idaho are in agonizing limbo as we try to imagine our futures. Yet what doesn’t get discussed is the effect this has on our kids. My daughter and 9-year-old son are among the approximately 1 million American children who are living with DACA recipients.

During our chats, I’ve stopped short of discussing what could happen to me if DACA wasn’t renewed and Congress fails to pass permanent protections for the 2 million immigrants who came here as kids. But I can tell the topic weighs on her, and it breaks my heart that she has to imagine that I could be arrested and deported someday.

I reassure her that in the meantime I’m fighting for change and sharing my story. That’s why I welcome the recent introduction of a new Dream Act by U.S. Sens. Dick Durbin, D-Illinois, and Lindsey Graham, R-South Carolina, that would offer me a pathway for residency and citizenship.

Luckily, my younger son isn’t as preoccupied with this looming threat, but I know that’s only a matter of time. Children need security, and it’s cruel to force them to live with such a heavy burden. How could it not hurt them? A recent study found a clear link between parents who were protected from deportation through the program and the improved mental health of their children.

While the fate of DACA rests with the courts, I’m grateful I’ve been able to renew my permit for another two years. When it expires, though, I could lose my job and ability to support my family. I would no longer be eligible for an Idaho driver’s license and could not drive to the grocery store, let alone take my kids to school.

With so many labor shortages in fields like education, nursing and construction, our leaders know they can’t risk losing us. According to one report this summer, Idaho had 9,000 healthcare jobs that were unfilled. In November, Boise Mayor McLean joined 70 mayors across the U.S. asking Congress to take action and make such protections permanent.

I also don’t want to lose my work authorization because I love my job as a bilingual advocate for crime and domestic violence victims. I feel a deep sense of purpose knowing I am helping people stay safe and build better lives. But with residency and citizenship, I’d be able to make even more of a difference. I’d qualify for in-state tuition and financial aid, and I could pursue my lifelong dream of going to college. I plan to earn a degree in social work and become a mental health counselor — and help alleviate yet another of Idaho’s labor shortages.

My children shouldn’t have to worry about my future — or our very existence as a family. If our politicians say they fight for families, they need to show some real leadership and protect all of us.