Bill's Failure Has Immigrants Down, Not Leaving

Susan, a 52-year-old teacher from the Philippines who spoke on condition that her last name not be used, came to Gaithersburg with her three young children on a temporary work visa eight years ago. She said the private school that hired her offered to sponsor her for permanent legal status, but then the director changed his mind.

Suddenly illegal, Susan survived on babysitting and restaurant jobs that paid cash. At times, she said, she considered returning to the Philippines, but her children begged her to stay.

"They've been here since they were so young that they speak English the same as any American. And plus, there's no future for them in the Philippines," she said.

When she learned from her father, a legal immigrant, that the Senate bill had failed, she said, "I just felt so sorry. . . . I really don't know what I'm going to do."

Since entering the United States, some illegal immigrants have attended school and learned professions but remained stymied by their lack of legal status. They had placed special hopes on the Senate bill and felt especially devastated by its failure.

Eduardo Tapia, 20, a native of Mexico, said he sneaked across the border at 14 and made his way to Maryland. In 2005, he graduated from Bladensburg High School with high marks and a dream of attending college, but he was dismayed to learn that he could not qualify for in-state tuition or financial aid.

This spring, he has been working at a seafood restaurant for $7.50 an hour, hoping for passage of the Senate bill because it would have granted residency to thousands of U.S. high school graduates who arrived illegally as children.

"I was praying to God that maybe they're going to pass it and I can become a citizen, or resident, and go to college like everybody," Tapia said. Despite his disappointment, he said he only briefly considered returning to Mexico.

"After all this, going back is like" starting again, he said. "I have to hope. I have a dream that they're going to pass it."

Saba Someon, 34, said she fled Ethiopia in 2001, leaving behind her husband and five children, because the government threatened to deport her to neighboring Eritrea. She said she paid a smuggler $3,700 to sneak her into the United States by plane, applied for asylum and was rejected. Since then, Someon said, she has spent six years living "like an animal," surviving on help from other local Ethiopians.

"I think . . . this bill, it [will] help me. Now, no hope," Someon said yesterday through tears. "It broke my heart." Once, she said, she thought of the United States as a country with "more humanity," a country that would help people like her. Now, she said, she feels at sea. "I cannot go back. . . . I don't have [a] country now," Someon said. "I believe my country is here."

Staff writer Karin Brulliard contributed to this report.