Juan Robles
- Gen Z immigrants are working toward their career goals, but feel stuck due to their legal status.They may work low-wage and gig jobs despite having degrees and work authorization.As ICE continues to detain immigrants, it adds uncertainty to their futures
Camila Hernandez has been working minimum-wage jobs since she was 16.
She's rung up McDonald's orders and roasted coffee, but her least favorite job was working in warehouses preparing fresh food for delivery. No matter how many layers she wore, she was freezing in the refrigerated rooms of produce.
"We were the youngest ones there," Hernandez said of herself and her sister, who worked alongside her. They felt out of place surrounded by their colleagues, mostly older migrant workers.
Today, Hernandez is 22 and has a bachelor's degree. She works as a shift lead at a coffee shop in Sacramento, where she lives, earning $17.50 an hour. She wants a career with a salary and benefits, but says not having work authorization or resident status is holding her back. Her discouragement is heightened this summer by reports that Immigration and Customs Enforcement has arrested young people brought to the US by their parents as children as they go about their day, going to school or work.
"It's so frustrating. I came here at 4, so I've lived here my whole entire life," Hernandez said. "I'm from Mexico, but I don't know anything about the country."
Millions of young immigrants raised and educated in the US are entering adulthood ready to contribute to the economy. Business Insider spoke to Gen Z "Dreamers" who came to the US as children and now say they are stuck, unable to fully realize their American dream. As immigration enforcement rises, these undocumented young adults face an uncertain future.
"I want a career," Hernandez said. "I can't be a barista forever."
'Keep working, keep following the rules, and eventually our time will come'
Juan Robles, 28, has work authorization through DACA, or Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, an Obama-era program that is now caught up in a legal battle that paused new applications. Every two years, Robles has to reapply to maintain his status.
"I consider myself American just as much as any other person, and I think I've done a lot," said Robles, who came to the US at age 7 in 2004.
But the journey toward building his American dream hasn't been easy. He worked to put himself through college because he wasn't eligible for loans or state grants. The first time he tried to buy a home, DACA recipients weren't eligible for FHA financing. He isn't eligible to receive any Social Security benefits when he retires.
"It was like a slap in the face," Robles said of the barriers. "Not only did we have to work hard for what we have, but we have to work a lot harder just because of who we are."
In 2022, he cashed out his retirement savings and borrowed $20,000 from his parents to jump-start his business, Juanderful Tacos. He said business has been booming and last year, he owed the IRS $8,759 in taxes from sales.
"People have the audacity to say that immigrants don't pay taxes," Robles said.
He hoped his professional efforts and lack of criminal record would prove that he deserves to earn citizenship. With the recent escalation in ICE arrests, he feels a renewed sense of despair. More than a decade since DACA was established, Robles, who lives in Phoenix, is facing the risk of deportation.
"If you are present in the United States illegally, you will be deported," Abigail Jackson, a spokesperson for the White House, previously told Business Insider. "This is the promise President Trump made to the American people that the administration is committed to keeping it."
Robles and his wife, who is also undocumented, have been outspoken about their status online and are longtime immigrant activists. The bio on their restaurant's Instagram page reads, "very proudly DACA-owned and operated."
"We got to just keep our heads down, keep working, keep following the rules, and eventually our time will come," Robles said. "We really can't hope for anything else."
'What now? I still can't get a job.'
For many in the US, a college degree is an important stepping stone toward the middle class. According to the Social Security Administration, those with higher education degrees earn over $1 million more in median lifetime earnings than their peers without a degree. But a professional career is a much harder step for young people living in the US on DACA status or without permanent legal status.
One undocumented LA-based Gen Zer said she dropped out of Art Center College of Design because she maxed out on the financial aid and loans the state of California offers to non-citizen residents and didn't qualify for federal aid because she isn't a refugee or permanent resident. She's been afraid to continue her work as a freelance photographer due to recent ICE raids in Los Angeles, and has turned down job opportunities, which leaves her worried about paying rent.
Jennifer R. Nájera, a professor of Ethnic Studies at the University of California, Riverside, said that in addition to the professional and financial strain, students without legal status are physically and emotionally affected by the threat of deportation and family separation. Statewide surveys at California's public universities found that 28% of undocumented students and 30% of students with undocumented parents had reported clinical depressive symptoms compared to 21% of their peers.
"There's a lot of disillusion with the American dream among immigrant communities, especially working-class immigrant communities," said Nájera, who works with and studies undocumented student activists.
Hernandez can relate. She graduated with a bachelor's in health science from Sacramento State University in 2023, but finding work in her field of study has been harder.
She hoped to receive US citizenship when she married her high school boyfriend in 2024. When the marriage broke up last year, she was on the cusp of securing a green card. She is now on a different pathway to citizenship through the Violence Against Women Act.
Hernandez feels frustrated that she's back to living with her parents and working an hourly wage service job. She wants more for her life, and is attending a community college to become a nurse because immigration status is not a barrier to getting a license in California.
Getting hired at a hospital is a different story: She would need to have US citizenship or a green card. She knows it's a risk to take on additional debt for nursing school when she might not get hired until a multi-year legalization process is over. Hernandez said it's worth it to keep driving toward her goal of making it beyond minimum-wage jobs that don't provide benefits.
"I got my EMT, I got my degree," said Hernandez, who doesn't qualify for a paramedic license in California because of her legal status. "What now? I still can't get a job."
