Undocumented students rethink their college dreams after Texas cuts their access to cheaper tuition
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Even though Jorge and his younger sister are only two years apart in age, their college experiences are headed in different directions.
They were both motivated and highly engaged high school students in Central Texas. But after graduation, he went to Austin Community College and had to work three jobs to pay for tuition. She enrolled at Texas State University on a full scholarship.
It wasn’t academics or ambition that separated the siblings, but their immigration status. Their parents, seeking economic opportunity, crossed the U.S.-Mexico border with Jorge in their arms when he was 1 year old. They had his sister in Austin a short time later.
This fall, Jorge hoped to finally be on equal footing with her. The 21-year-old had saved enough money to afford tuition at Texas State and had applied to transfer there to study mechanical engineering. His plans depended on having access to in-state tuition, the lower rate that Texas residents pay to attend public colleges and is often half, or even a third, of what out-of-state students are charged.
But the siblings’ path may soon split for good. Last week, state officials agreed to the federal government’s demand to stop offering in-state tuition rates to undocumented students living in Texas.
Jorge is one of thousands of students whose education plans may have been truncated by the ruling. Their aspirations — to become engineers or lawyers, or join other professions — haven’t disappeared. But the road has grown steeper. For some, it may now be out of reach.
The Texas Tribune spoke to four students who were brought into the country when they were young and are weighing what last week’s ruling means for their college plans. They requested anonymity out of fear that being identified publicly could make them or their families a target for deportation.
The students said they had been on high alert for months, fearing that the Texas Dream Act — the 2001 law that allowed undocumented students to qualify for in-state tuition and state financial aid — would be repealed this year as anti-immigrant rhetoric soared with the start of a new Trump administration.
Federal officials have set a goal of deporting 1 million undocumented immigrants by the end of this year, and perhaps no state has extended them as much help as Texas. Gov. Greg Abbott said the National Guard can now make immigration arrests. State lawmakers have authorized spending billions of dollars from the state’s budget on border security and passed a law this year requiring sheriffs to work with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. And a proposal to end the Texas Dream Act advanced further in the Texas Legislature than it had in a decade.
“This one got further along than I was comfortable with, so I was keeping my eye on it,” Jorge said.
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The students were relieved when lawmakers ended this year’s legislative session without repealing the law, but it was short-lived. They hadn’t prepared for the federal government and state officials to turn to the courts to dismantle the long-standing policy.
Schools, many of which had already started summer classes, were also caught off guard and have struggled to answer critical questions: What will happen to students who can’t pay the difference in tuition? Will they be left with debt and no degree?
Students have been trying to find their own answers, with little luck. College access advocates and legal experts say they are still trying to gauge the ruling’s implications and whether it can be challenged.
Soon after the court announced its decision, Jorge’s friends texted him a news article about it.
“I was shocked,” he said. “I stayed up until 3 in the morning just reading everything I could.”
From dream to disappointment
For nearly 24 years, the Texas Dream Act made college more affordable for students like Jorge.
The law extended access to in-state tuition rates to university and college students who are not U.S. citizens but have lived in Texas for three years prior to graduating high school and one year prior to enrolling in college. The law required them to sign an affidavit declaring that they would apply for permanent legal residency as soon as they were able.
About 19,500 students signed an affidavit to qualify for in-state tuition in 2023. That number not only includes students living illegally in the country but also those who are here on visas, such as those whose parents received work permits and reside legally in the U.S. The Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board, which tracks the number of affidavit signers, has told lawmakers the agency does not ask students to disclose their immigration status.
Affidavit signers are also eligible to receive state financial aid. Texas GOP senators have expressed concern that those students take an outsized portion of the state aid available, but according to Every Texan, a left-leaning policy research institute, that’s not the case. Affidavit signers received $17.3 million of the $635.2 million — less than 3% — of the aid distributed in 2023, the group found.
The law was not controversial when it was passed. It was seen, even by Republican leaders at the time, as a common-sense way to boost the economy. Undocumented students contribute more than $80 million annually to the Texas higher education system and fill vacancies in critical sectors like health care, education and technology, according to the American Immigration Council.
But the Tea Party movement and President Donald Trump have pushed the Republican Party, in Texas and across the country, toward a more nativist stance.
In 2021, Abbott launched a billion-dollar border security initiative called Operation Lone Star. As part of that effort, he increased the penalty for the state crime of trespassing and directed state troopers to arrest migrants found on private property. Abbott deployed thousands of Texas National Guard members across the state this week to respond to protests against federal deportation raids, which his office says have devolved into lawlessness in cities like Los Angeles.
Republicans now argue the Texas Dream Act amounted to a subsidy that deprived U.S. citizens of opportunities. Texans for Strong Borders, an influential anti-immigration group, said the law encouraged people to immigrate to the country illegally.
Last week, the U.S. Department of Justice sued Texas, arguing the Texas Dream Act “unconstitutionally discriminates against U.S. citizens.” Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton, a long-time critic of the law, chose not to defend it in court despite his history of suing past presidential administrations for overstepping their authority and infringing on the state’s rights. A federal judge favored by conservative litigants quickly ruled in favor of the Justice Department and declared the law unconstitutional.
Republicans quickly celebrated the Texas Dream Act’s demise. State Sen. Brandon Creighton, the chair of the Texas Senate’s education committee and the architect of the state’s diversity, equity and inclusion ban and other sweeping higher education reforms, pointed out on social media that he had filed legislation to end in-state tuition for undocumented students multiple times in previous sessions.
“This is a long-overdue win for the rule of law, fiscal responsibility, and Texas taxpayers,” the Conroe Republican said.
Critics accused the feds and the state of colluding to eliminate the policy without giving undocumented students and their supporters a chance to push back. The federal government’s argument that undocumented students are receiving benefits denied to U.S. citizens is false and misleading, said Monica Andrade, an attorney and director of state policy and legal strategy at the Presidents’ Alliance on Higher Education and Immigration.
“In fact, any U.S. citizen who meets the same criteria — such as attending and graduating from a Texas high school — qualifies for in-state tuition. These requirements apply regardless of immigration status,” she said.
For Jorge, the political fights over immigration have always cast a shadow over his college dreams.
He wants work for Engineers Without Borders, a humanitarian organization that helps establish clean water, sanitation and infrastructure in developing countries.
His parents taught him that “everything that we do has to be for the betterment of the world, because it’s simply what we as humans owe one another,” he said. “The idea of not using education to try to improve the world in some way seems a bit, I don’t know, backwards.”
Jorge has paid for school himself, starting out working for his father’s construction company before taking additional jobs as a waiter and a cashier. His schooling has taken longer than usual because sometimes he couldn’t afford to attend full time, even with access to in-state tuition.
“I take pride in the fact that my parents don't have to worry about me being short on bills for school,” he said, “but when it comes to rent and bills, I am definitely still dependent on my family.”
Jorge said he applied to Texas State not because his sister goes there, but because it was affordable. He could keep costs down by continuing to live with his family and commuting to San Marcos for class.
Without access to in-state tuition rates, he said, Texas State is anything but cheap. According to the university’s website, taking 15 hours in the fall would now cost him an estimated $24,520 in tuition and fees. That’s double what he would have to pay with in-state tuition.
Jorge still hopes the judge’s ruling can be overturned. A group of undocumented students took the first steps in that direction this week by asking the judge to let them intervene in the case. But legal experts say an appeal is a long shot that will likely take months to resolve.
In the meantime, Jorge has already started looking into whether he can finish his degree at a Mexican university online.
“I’d like to give more back to this country, but if that’s the option in front of me, I can’t say I wouldn’t take it,” he said.
Other undocumented students, even those who have received state financial aid or private scholarships, have also started looking for backup plans.
Aurora, a 26-year-old student at Texas A&M University-San Antonio, is racing to finish her psychology degree. She enrolled in as many classes as possible this summer and fall because she was worried the Legislature would repeal the Texas Dream Act.
“A lot of us were already nervous, because we kind of feared that this was going to happen, but we just didn't think it would happen so soon,” she said.
TheDream.US, a national organization that awards scholarships to undocumented students going to college, provides roughly $4,000 to Aurora each semester. But she’d be at least $6,000 short if required to pay the out-of-state tuition rate. After the court’s decision, she wondered if she would have to withdraw from her classes for now.
Some students said they felt betrayed.
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A.M., a 24-year-old recent Texas A&M University graduate, said he wanted to return to the school to pursue a master’s degree in public service and administration, but paying out-of-state tuition would be too costly for him. He is also reassessing his options.
A.M. lamented that Paxton didn’t defend the state law in court, especially after lawmakers declined to repeal it during this year’s legislative session.
“It provides a lot of undocumented students with opportunities to fill labor shortages here in this state,” he said. “And yet, Paxton kind of turned his back on us, on all of us Texans.”
Colleges face questions
Days after the ruling upended Texas’ tuition policy, state officials and universities still can’t say what happens next, leaving students without much guidance on how to move forward.
Fifteen Democrat state representatives wrote to the Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board last week asking it to create a first-generation resident tuition rate to allow students who benefited from the Texas Dreamer Act to enroll this fall at a more affordable rate.
“This action would not override statute but would provide a critical bridge until the Legislature can return to address the matter,” reads the letter, which state Rep. Donna Howard, D-Austin, posted on social media.
Friday evening, the agency replied that it does not have the authority to do what the lawmakers proposed.
The Tribune reached out to the nine Texas public universities and colleges with the highest enrollment of affidavit signers and asked them if they would charge those students the higher rate immediately; if students who had already paid in-state tuition rates for summer classes would have to pay the difference; or if students would have any recourse to challenge the higher costs. The University of Texas at Austin, the University of Texas at Arlington, the Dallas College District and Houston Community College did not respond.
It’s unclear if any Texas university knows which of their students are undocumented or how they will determine who should now be charged the out-of-state tuition rate. The University of Houston System said it does not require applicants to disclose their immigration status. Other schools — including Texas A&M University, Lone Star College, the University of Texas at Dallas and UT-Rio Grande Valley — did not answer when asked if they do. They said they were still trying to understand the ruling and what it means for their students.
UT-RGV officials acknowledged the ruling’s likely impact on students’ financial plans.
“Our priority and focus are on minimizing disruption to student success consistent with applicable law and helping students navigate this transition with clarity and care,” said Melissa Vasquez, a university spokesperson, in a statement.
College access experts worry colleges could start identifying undocumented students to cut off their access to in-state tuition rates, which could expose them to immigration enforcement.
In addition, they said, the ruling could set the state back on its goal of having 60% of Texans between the ages of 25-34 hold a certificate or degree by 2030. As of 2021, only 49% of Texans in that age group had done so, according to the most recent data from the Higher Education Coordinating Board.
“We are hopeful that colleges will do what they can to help students complete the path they started,” said Will Davies, director of policy and research at Breakthrough Central Texas, a nonprofit dedicated to helping students from low-income communities become the first in their family to go to college. “I mean, that’s good for all Texans. No one benefits from forcing students to stop out with existing debt and without the credentials that can help them achieve economic stability.”
Ale, 24, worked hard to graduate from the University of North Texas with a degree in political science, knowing her efforts might not pay off.
She has work authorization and a driver’s license via the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, which was created under the Obama administration and shields some undocumented immigrants who were brought to the U.S. as children from deportation. DACA, which is also facing legal challenges, allowed Ale to split her week working four days as a hotel manager and attending classes at the University of North Texas in her remaining time. One semester, she and her parents worked extra hours so she could afford to be an unpaid intern for a politician.
Now, Ale works for a law firm in North Texas that assists international students who, like her, don’t know if they will be able to finish their education in the U.S. She wanted to apply to UT-Austin’s law school before she learned last week that the Texas Dream Act was no more.
She said she’s trying to channel the sadness she feels about her situation into motivating her younger sisters, who are U.S. citizens, to never take their educational opportunities for granted. And she still plans to take the LSAT.
“I’m not going to give up on myself,” she said.

Ale isn’t alone in that resolve.
Jorge said he’s going to study Mexican history so he can prepare for the entrance exam at two Mexican universities, Tecnológico de Monterrey and Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, where he’s considering finishing his degree online.
A.M., who wants to use his education to help reform the country’s health care system, is looking into moving to one of the 23 states that do offer undocumented students in-state tuition rates and paying for his master’s degree there. He feels sad and scared about the possibility of having to move away from his family and friends.
“It’s kind of like having to start from scratch, and all the connections I made here, I might not be able to see for a while,” he said.
Aurora felt hopeful she’ll be able to finish her degree after TheDream.US told her this week she will continue to receive support, even if she decides to transfer to another university.
“I’m still a bit anxious, but at the same time positive because there are people out there who support us,” she said.
All four said they are still trying to reconcile what it means to be raised in Texas and yet be told, in rhetoric and increasingly through law, that they don’t belong.
María Méndez contributed to this story.
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Disclosure: Every Texan, Houston Community College, Lone Star College, Texas A&M University, University of Texas - Arlington, University of Texas - Dallas, University of Texas at Austin, University of Houston and University of North Texas have been financial supporters of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune's journalism. Find a complete list of them here.
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