Montreal-born 'Dreamer' faces uncertain future post-DACA

Samantha Ilacqua remembers very little of Montreal.

"I went back once when I was little, just not long after we had moved," she said. "I remember that it's much colder than Texas, and that's about it."

It's not surprising: Ilacqua left Canada when she was only two years old, when her parents moved to Austin for her father's work.

She's lived in Texas ever since, enrolling in school, attending college and getting a job in the United States.

​Now, she's worried she may be forced back to leave home for Canada, after U.S. President Donald Trump repealed Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA).

It's a situation, she acknowledges, that would seem favourable to most of the 800,000 people reliant on DACA for protection from deportation.

As far as she is concerned, however, Texas is home — not Montreal.

Living illegally

Ilacqua was living in the United States illegally from age nine up until her high school graduation.

For a time, her family lived in Texas based on her father's work permit but when her parents divorced, her father returned to Canada, making their own status null and void.

Her mother opted to keep living in Texas; Ilacqua's two younger brothers were American citizens and Ilacqua was in the middle of school. So they stayed.

As a teenager, Ilacqua said it was difficult to live as an illegal immigrant.

"In high school when my friends started driving and they got their licenses, I wasn't able to do that, because I didn't have the right papers," she told CBC's Daybreak.

When the Obama administration introduced the DACA policy in 2012, Ilacqua said it changed her life.

"When I finally got DACA [in 2014], I was able to get a license, get a picture ID, get a car, get a job," she said.

"It really changed everything for me."

On Tuesday, the White House officially announced that it would be rescinding the program. At first, Ilacqua said she could not believe the news.

"I just kept telling myself 'there's no way, there's no way, it just doesn't make sense,'" she said.

Uncertain future

Due to the nature of the DACA applications, Ilacqua said that the amount of information they know about her alone is cause for concern.

"They have everything about me. They have my phone number, my work address, my home address," she said.

"If they really wanted to, they could just come send somebody to knock on my door and say: 'Alright, let's go, you're leaving.' And that's a really scary thought."

Ilacqua had her two-year permit renewed recently, so she has a little under two years of legal status in the U.S. before her time is up.

But she is already thinking about what to do if DACA is not replaced with something that can help her stay.

"Really, the easiest and the only way to become a citizen is to get married," she said. "But I'm only 22. I don't feel like that's fair."

When asked if she had considered returning to Canada, Ilacqua said she feels fortunate that her country of origin is somewhere safe and full of opportunities. But it's not where she wants to be.

"I've worked very hard to be where I am. I've done well in school, I've gotten a good job because I've worked hard," Ilacqua said.

"I don't feel 'illegal.' I don't feel like I'm not supposed to be here."

Trump said he is asking Congress to replace the DACA policy before its protections are phased out in March. In the meantime, Ilacqua said that she's hoping that a new program will help her stay in the country.

"I've got to stay optimistic and hope that they come up with a solution for everybody."