Tipped wage standoff leaves D.C. restaurants in limbo — what's next
Why it matters: Independent businesses say they're in crisis, workers worry about their wages, and there's no clear consensus on what to do about I-82.
Driving the news: The Council this week voted to uphold the law phasing out the lower "tipped minimum wage," rejecting a proposed repeal in the upcoming budget 7-5.
Council member Janeese Lewis George cited the will of voters (74% approved I-82 in the 2022 election) and the need to protect workers counting on higher pay.
Yes, but: Another proposal to replace I-82 could materialize by the council's second, final budget vote on July 28.
Mayor Muriel Bowser — who's pushed for a repeal — said she's "optimistic" about reaching a final budget that "lives up to our DC values," but noted "there are issues our city needs the Council to move faster on."
First in line: "predictability in the restaurant industry."
Catch up quick: I-82 requires businesses to gradually pay tipped staff like servers and bartenders more, regardless of tips.
The Restaurant Association of Metropolitan Washington (RAMW) and some tipped workers have joined Bowser in calling for a repeal, citing higher costs and falling tips as businesses add service fees.
Plus, record restaurant closures last year — and nearly 60 so far this year, per RAMW, which projects over 100 by 2026.
Meanwhile, proponents argue I-82 has led to higher, more consistent and equitable wages — especially for workers in lower positions who might not speak English or have their voices heard.
The big picture: Earlier this summer, the D.C. Council paused the next wage bump — from $10 to $12/hour — after RAMW and Bowser warned it could push more small restaurants to close.
Council Chair Phil Mendelson presented a "compromise" a day before Monday's 2026 budget vote: Repeal I-82, set a new $8 base wage for tipped staff, and create a $20/hour "super minimum wage" for anyone who doesn't earn that in tips.
The plan would have also capped restaurant service fees at 10% to encourage tipping.
Reality check: I-82 isn't solely responsible for tough operating conditions — there's also pandemic repercussions, inflation, high rents and mass DMV layoffs. But, anti-I-82 groups argue, wage law is one of the few things the city can control.
Plus, they argue, tipped workers still make D.C.'s $17.95/hr minimum wage if they don't get enough in tips. Employers are legally required to make it up.
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Boston Globe
an hour ago
- Boston Globe
Thousands of homeless students left in the lurch after Job Center closures put on hold
'That was how I was able to escape homelessness,' Kary added. 'My whole life has been defined by loss and poverty and just living on the most precarious knife edge.' Job Corps is a federally funded program for young people between the ages of 16 and 24 that provides free housing, meals, basic medical care, school supplies, childcare, English language instruction, and a small allowance while students earn high school equivalency degrees and trade certifications. The National Job Corps Association sued the DOL shortly after the announcement alleging the department's order to pause the program was illegal because only Congress can eliminate the program and because it would displace thousands of students and lead to mass layoffs. In June, a US District Court judge for the Southern District of New York granted a preliminary injunction against the DOL, effectively halting the DOL's order indefinitely and allowing Job Corps's 123 centers to remain operational. But Kary and the approximately 4,500 other students nationwide who were homeless before joining the program's living and learning spaces are still at risk of displacement. Advertisement As part of its fiscal 2026 budget, the DOL has proposed eviscerating Job Corps, allocating it a fraction of its typical funding for the purpose of closing and demolishing the centers. Congress is expected to begin voting on the proposed budget in September, though it can take months to pass. Advertisement Labor experts in Massachusetts say the state's workforce development system is not designed for a shake-up that would displace many of the 799 students who were enrolled at three centers in Massachusetts in May. 'Whenever we need to put students somewhere, Job Corps is front and center,' Jeffrey Turgeon, director of MassHire Central, said. 'We're losing a major tool.' After the meeting announcing its closure, the Shriver Job Corps Center told students it would remain operational for the time being. Yet, a majority of students who lived at the center left the Shriver Center, opting to find alternative housing in the face of the center's day-to-day uncertainty. After investing months into diplomas and career certificates, students feel mixed emotions about what will come next for them. Kary worries about leaving empty-handed if the court eventually rules that the centers must close, or Congress approves funding cuts to the Job Corps. She started her training program to work in public transportation, which she said typically takes one year to complete, just a week before the DOL order. 'As nice as it is, it still feels uncertain,' Kary said. 'It's a race against the preliminary injunction and the government.' Mohammad Niazy, 18, and Matiullah Kabir, 19, discovered a near-empty cafeteria when they arrived at the Shriver Center for class earlier this month. The two commute to campus from Harvard, MA, where Advertisement Niazy earned his high school diploma from the center in May. Kabir, who had already graduated from his local high school, studied computer technology at Shriver, where he started a football team and received his driver's license. He said he was shocked when he learned that DOL ordered a pause in operations. 'It was so fast, people were not ready for this. A lot of people were living there and working. They were definitely crying, they were saying, 'Where do we go now?'' Kabir said. Facing potential Job Corps closures, students can apply for state-run high school equivalency degrees and vocational training programs, paid apprenticeships, or community college, according to the Executive Office of Labor and Workforce Development (EOLWD). Governor Maura Healey's housing office had also been developing a contingency plan for displaced students leading up to the preliminary injunction, spokesperson Tara Smith said in an email to the Globe last month. 'Until the lawsuit is resolved, we continue to monitor the situation with EOLWD and other state agencies as it relates to potential next steps with affected students,' Smith added. Until joining Job Corps, Kary, who asked to be identified by her first name because she fears harassment by the government as a transgender woman, was in and out of homelessness. She was kicked out of her childhood home by her family when she turned 18. She crashed on friends' couches and waited in line at food banks for meals. She eventually got a job as a cashier earning $9 an hour, but it was nowhere near enough to make ends meet. Advertisement For four months in the winter of 2022, Kary slept every night in a tent — even in the pouring rain and freezing temperatures. When a friend told Kary about Job Corps's residential program, she applied as soon as she could. 'Job Corps was my only hope,' she said. The DOL says it wants to end the program because it is not achieving its including the 38.6 percent graduation rate it cited in its justification for pausing the program, which comes from the 2023 program year, reflect high dropout rates during the COVID-19 pandemic. Local politicians in Massachusetts are concerned about the impact shuttering the program would have on their communities. 'The reality is a program like this, which no doubt costs millions of dollars just for the Devens center, is that it's not going to be replaced,' Massachusetts State Senator Jamie Eldridge, whose district includes Shriver, said. In 'Massachusetts industries obviously depend on the kind of technical training the Job Corps provides,' Congresswoman Lori Trahan, whose district also covers Shriver, said. Kary worries that she will not be hired for a job without her trade certification. She does not want to go to a shelter for fear of harassment but no other training programs offer housing. Yet when she thinks about the future, she imagines a quiet life working as a train conductor, a career that she became passionate about while studying at Shriver. Advertisement Kary has one more non-negotiable. She has to live in Massachusetts. 'I love Massachusetts. I'd fully crawl my way out of homelessness and then be in Massachusetts,' said Kary. 'This place is end goal for me.' Jade Lozada can be reached at
Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
A reckoning: Trump's attacks are inspiring self-reflection in higher ed
The Trump administration's attacks against colleges and universities, including its attempts to pull federal funding and bar foreign students from Harvard University in the name of fighting antisemitism, have alarmed many in higher education. But they have also spurred a degree of self-reflection among some leaders in the field. There's a 'kernel of truth' in many of the leading criticisms of universities and colleges — the price tag, the perceived liberal bent of many educators, and the rise of campus antisemitism and discrimination — said Ted Mitchell. Mitchell, president of the American Council on Education, a nonpartisan association of 1,600 colleges across the country, said the Trump administration has 'called on higher education' to attend to these issues that have long lingered without sufficient action. The administration's pressure campaign comes at a time when public confidence in the nation's colleges is falling. Read more: Trump admin renews demand for Harvard foreign student info: 'We tried to do things the easy way' In the past decade, the share of Americans with high confidence in colleges and universities has fallen from 57% to 36%, primarily driven by concerns that colleges push a political agenda, don't teach necessary skills and cost too much, according to a Gallup survey last year. Meanwhile, the cost of attending college is growing. Adjusted for inflation, average tuition is up 30-40% over the past 20 years at public and private colleges, according to data gathered by U.S. News and World Report. While Mitchell agrees with some of the Trump administration's criticisms of higher education, the way the federal government has addressed those concerns — such as cutting off federal funding for research — is overblown, he said. 'His actions have been outrageous and dangerous and missed the point,' Mitchell said. A Department of Education spokesperson didn't respond to requests for comment for this story. A leading complaint: Colleges are too liberal The belief that college campuses have become bastions of a leftist ideology where conservatives are underrepresented has been a central feature in Trump's critiques of higher education. In an April letter to Harvard, the Trump administration demanded numerous reforms to campus admissions, hiring and management practices. The administration said Harvard must review programs and departments that 'fuel antisemitic harassment' and make changes to expand ideological diversity on campus. Among Americans dissatisfied with higher education, 41% believe colleges push a political agenda, Gallup's poll last year showed. It was the top issue, followed at 37% by those who said colleges focus on the wrong things and don't teach relevant skills. Those respondents were more than three times as likely to believe colleges were too liberal than too conservative. Read more: Here are 5 of the biggest effects on higher ed in the 'Big Beautiful Bill' Any 'clear-minded observer of higher education' would agree that academia has skewed further to the left, Mitchell said. 'Viewpoint diversity is always at risk in every discipline and it really comes home when departments become homogenous around any set of ideas,' he said. For instance, Mitchell said there are too few conservative academics championing free-market capitalism in economics departments and that there is excessive emphasis in the humanities on anticolonialism, a political and social movement seeking to end colonial rule across the globe. Robert Shibley, special counsel for campus advocacy for the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, or FIRE, raised similar concerns about the lack of political diversity in higher education. 'It's a perennial complaint and I think lies behind a lot of the animosity toward Harvard and other schools,' he said. The nonpartisan free speech group based in Washington, D.C., has urged colleges and universities in recent years to take those concerns seriously. Yet adjusting the ideological diversity on campus is outside the government's purview, not to mention a tricky endeavor, Shibley said. For one, 'You can't just wave a wand' and generate 'a whole bunch of conservative academics waiting in the wings.' Academia may be politically left of the American public, yet in theory it should not matter, said Dr. Greg Weiner, president of Assumption University in Worcester. 'I've often said I don't know who our faculty votes for,' he said. 'For all I know, they 100% could have voted for Biden, 100% could have voted for Trump, and I would not care as long as they're excellent teachers and scholars.' But on many campuses, politics have increasingly seeped into lesson plans, he said. Read more: 'Devastating': 10 Harvard researchers detail 'essential' work set to be cut by Trump Educators would benefit from limiting 'extraneous material' from the classroom, even in subjects such as political thought — Weiner's area of expertise — with a connection to current events, he said. Doing so may help break the public perception that colleges have become overly political. 'Rather than locking into a position that would require us to persuade significant majorities of the American public that they're simply wrong, let's start by taking a hard look at ourselves,' he said. Antisemitism has been a longstanding issue In April, under intense pressure from Trump to address campus antisemitism, Harvard acknowledged it had failed to effectively combat discrimination against Jewish students and staff amid Israel's war in Gaza. Jews of varying political stripes were shunned, harassed, targeted in class discussions, and generally fearful to discuss their identity, a report released in April from a Harvard task force found. The same patterns existed on campuses across the country. Accompanying the report, Harvard President Alan Garber issued an apology: 'I am sorry for the moments when we failed to meet the high expectations we rightfully set for our community.' Antisemitism festered on campuses for years before the war began with Hamas's Oct. 7, 2023, attacks on Israel, Jewish community leaders say. Read more: Trump admin threatens Harvard's accreditation over antisemitism response Discrimination of Jews steadily swelled on college campuses through the early 2000s and 2010s as the peace process between Israelis and Palestinians deteriorated and as campus advocacy around the conflict intensified, said Steven Schimmel, the executive director of the Jewish Federation of Central Massachusetts. By the time Hamas attacked Israel, the issue had already become 'precipitously worse' than in decades prior, he said. It has since only deteriorated further. It took pressure from the White House and Congress, Jewish organizations, alumni and students for college leaders to realize that antisemitism was rapidly escalating, Schimmel said. Much like their Jewish and Israeli peers, students of Muslim, Arab and Palestinian descent were also subject to a climate of 'fear and intimidation' as campus tensions flared, another report from Harvard found. The university did too little to combat discrimination or support students on both sides of the conflict, it said. While college leaders have largely grasped the need for action and taken it, important steps are still needed, Schimmel said. Universities must enforce their antidiscrimination rules effectively. And they should ensure that broader perspectives on issues related to Israel are taught in the classroom, he said. Read more: Trump's antisemitism probe mostly relies on Harvard's own report, Harvard claims Trump has made clear that failure from Harvard to act against antisemitism could have grave consequences. 'There are plenty of members of the Jewish community who welcome the added focus of combating antisemitism,' Schimmel said. Yet there is also trepidation, he added, over what the fallout of Trump's approach could be, and whether more targeted actions to combat antisemitism would be more effective. 'Tremendous room for improvement' A college degree still presents a clear pathway to financial mobility, yet higher education has 'tremendous room' to improve free speech, counter campus antisemitism and expand the political diversity of faculty, according to Beth Akers, senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute, a right-leaning think tank. College education has been 'over-celebrated,' she said, and the Trump administration's focus on the sector feels like a 'necessary correction,' even if it goes too far with cuts to funding. Read more: 'A day of loss': Boston University to lay off 120 people citing federal funding impacts The Trump administration's critiques of colleges could spur more people to question whether to pursue a degree, Akers said. 'Getting people to be more cautious about this investment, but not dismissing it entirely, I think, is actually a good innovation,' she said. Other higher education leaders don't see as much of an upside. Lynn Pasquerella, president of the Association of American Colleges and Universities and a former president at Mount Holyoke College, said the federal government's characterization of colleges and universities is 'disconnected from the reality.' Pasquerella sees the Trump administration as taking advantage of a growing mistrust of higher education for its own political aims, such as attacks on diversity, equity and inclusion programs. At the same time, she acknowledges that the institution has its faults. 'I believe that the longstanding critiques of higher education — that it's too expensive, too difficult to access, doesn't teach students 21st century skills — need to be addressed and they need to be addressed directly,' she said. 'And it requires a reckoning around the fundamental mission and purposes of American higher education.' What that reckoning looks like, however, has yet to be realized, she said. More Higher Ed Harvard continues dismantling its DEI offices amid Trump attacks Pro-Israel website used to compile list of ICE targets, agent testifies Trump admin renews demand for Harvard foreign student info: 'We tried to do things the easy way' Trump admin threatens Harvard's accreditation over antisemitism response Here are 5 of the biggest effects on higher ed in the 'Big Beautiful Bill' Read the original article on MassLive.
Chicago Tribune
6 hours ago
- Chicago Tribune
Chicago-area children get deportation letters: Leave or ‘the federal government will find you'
Thirteen-year-old Xally Morales stared blankly at a letter she received from the Department of Homeland Security last month. She could not read the dozens of lines in English addressed to her. She arrived in the country from Mexico a little over seven months ago, crossing the southern border in search of safety. Xally knows very little English. 'They say I have to leave the country immediately,' the young teen whispered in Spanish, barely meeting anyone's eyes at a Chicago law firm on a recent Friday afternoon. No explanation. No hearing. And no time. The night she received the letter, she said, the family went into hiding after her older sister translated the letter for her. 'Trump wants me to go back to Mexico. But how can I do that alone?' Xally told the Tribune. 'I'm scared ICE will come for me.' Xally is one of at least 12 children in the Waukegan area — all unaccompanied minors from Mexico — who received sudden deportation letters from DHS last month, according to advocates. All of the girls legally entered the country within the past year under humanitarian parole as unaccompanied minors and were later reunited with undocumented parents or other family already living in the U.S. But despite that reunification, the girls are unable to be legally represented by their parents in immigration court due to the way they entered the country. Immigration advocates warn that these cases are becoming more common, with a growing number of children now receiving letters from DHS ending their humanitarian parole. They say this could signal a troubling shift under the Trump administration: a move to strip asylum protections from children, even those with pending claims, and accelerate the deportation of minors without due process. 'Do not attempt to unlawfully remain in the United States — the Federal Government will find you,' the June 20 letter reads. Unless their families can find and afford scarce legal representation, the children could be at risk of getting detained or could be forced to face a judge alone, advocates and attorneys said. But an assistant secretary of DHS, Tricia McLaughlin, in an emailed statement to the Tribune said that 'accusations that ICE is 'targeting' children are FALSE and an attempt to demonize law enforcement.' McLaughlin added that Immigration and Customs Enforcement 'does not 'target' children nor does it deport children.' The agency also does not separate families, she said in the statement. Instead, 'ICE asks mothers if they want to be removed with their children or if the child should be placed with someone safe whom the parent designates.' But questions regarding why letters are being sent to unaccompanied minors, like Xally, and what the protocol is to deport them, as stated in the letter, were left unanswered. Sitting next to her mother in the law office that afternoon, she held her hand tight. Since receiving the letter, the two had been staying at a Waukegan church because they were afraid that ICE agents would suddenly show up to their home and take Xally. Her mother, Francisca Petra Guzman, 48, arrived in the country in January, also as an asylum-seeker. The two, she said, ran away from domestic abuse and death threats. But churches are no longer a safe refuge. Instead, the pastor of the church, longtime activist Julie Contreras, escorted the mother and daughter to meet with a group of attorneys who could help them understand their options: return to the country they fled, possibly together to avoid detention, or remain in the U.S. for safety. 'As much as I tried, I couldn't provide for Xally in Mexico. I couldn't keep her safe,' Guzman said. 'Then my health started to decline. We had no other option than to come here.' Shortly after President Donald Trump took office, DHS began widely sending these letters. While the agency has always had the discretion to revoke any type of parole, the practice has expanded significantly under his administration, according to the legal and immigration experts. Minors, however, had not been targeted until now. Still, the letter may not mean that ICE will in fact show up to the family's home or their school to deport the children, said immigration attorney John Antia. Many of these children may qualify for other forms of legal protection, Antia said. The first step is meeting with an experienced immigration lawyer. That's something, however, that's often out of reach for families due to financial hardship or lack of understanding about their rights. 'Whether ICE can lawfully detain these children largely depends on each child's immigration status and individual circumstances,' Antia said. When he learned that Xally and other children were taking sanctuary at a Waukegan church after getting the letters, he offered to meet with them, attempting to ease their anxiety and fear. 'The reality is that under this administration, no one is safe anywhere. They (immigration authorities) are unpredictable and desperate to meet a quota even if it means detaining a child,' Antia said. 'This administration doesn't care whether you are in the hospital, whether you are in the courthouse, whether you are in your home, definitely not at church.' While Xally and her mother didn't leave the law office with clear answers about their future, they said they felt a small sense of hope. The attorneys said they would explore legal options to help Xally stay in the country, or at the very least, protect her from detention. They returned to the church, packed their bags and went home. The fear, however, lingers more than ever. Every morning, Xally wakes up wondering if agents will show up at her door the way they have been showing up to other homes in Waukegan and other cities near Chicago. The girl and her mother avoid going out altogether, spending most days watching TV, doing her nails, writing or reading. 'When I begin to feel anxious, I pray,' Xally said as she scrolled though a photo of her late father on her cellphone background. Her nails are painted in bright pink polish and glitter. She painted them while she was staying at the church with other children who received similar letters from DHS. She said she is used to living in fear since she lived in Mexico. Only briefly after arriving did she think her life would take a turn for the best. Xally still remembers the day she first saw Lake Michigan after arriving in the Chicago area. It was Sept. 19 of last year. Before that, she had spent nearly a month in a Texas federal facility run by the Office of Refugee Resettlement, surrounded by other children who, like her, had crossed the southern border seeking asylum. 'More than scared, I was nervous and excited,' Xally said. She was eager to leave behind a life marked by pain and instability after her father died from COVID over five years ago. When her mother remarried, they found themselves trapped in an abusive household, her mother recalled. As the threats heightened, her mother desperately searched for a way to protect her youngest daughter. At first, she left Xally with her elderly grandmother in their impoverished Mexican hometown. But soon, Guzman realized her best option was to send Xally to the United States, where her older sisters — both U.S.-born — lived. Guzman herself had lived in the U.S. unauthorized as a teenager. It was where she met Xally's father. The couple decided to return to Mexico when Xally's grandfather was on his deathbed and they wanted to see one last time. Shortly after, Xally was born. With the help of Contreras, founder of United Giving Hope, an organization supporting immigrant families in suburban Illinois, Xally was granted humanitarian parole as an unaccompanied minor and successfully reunited with her older sisters in Waukegan. 'It was a new start for a young girl with big dreams,' Contreras said. 'She arrived at a place of safety every child deserves.' Over the past decade, Contreras has helped hundreds of children and mothers legally cross the southern border seeking asylum, assisting with paperwork and connecting them to attorneys to support their cases. But now, about a dozen of those children, including Xally, have received letters from DHS ordering them to leave the country. 'This is deeply concerning and alarming,' Contreras said. 'These children are not the criminals Trump claimed ICE would target. They are victims of human rights violations and are being terrorized. Even if ICE doesn't come for them immediately, the threat alone causes severe psychological trauma.' While Xally and her mother choose to endure the uncertainty, others cannot bear it and have opted to return to their native towns. Even when it means facing danger, Contreras said. Sixteen-year-old Daneli Mendez, who arrived in the Chicago area last October, decided to go back to her native Veracruz, Mexico. After staying at the church with Contreras for nearly a week, terrified that ICE would arrive and arrest her, Daneli told her family she would rather return voluntarily than risk detention. The girl has heard of others being detained in detention centers in poor conditions for undetermined amounts of time. Most recently, a 15-year-old Mexican boy was reportedly arrested by federal authorities and taken to Alligator Alcatraz, a notorious detention facility in Florida. On July 5, just a day after Independence Day, Contreras escorted Daneli to O'Hare International Airport and watched as the young girl boarded a flight back to the country she once fled. 'It's heartbreaking to see their dreams shattered. But this is about more than dreams, it's about their safety,' Contreras said. Daneli returned with nothing but a small backpack, a few English words she had learned, and a broken heart, leaving her family behind once again. 'She would much rather do that than be detained and deported,' Contreras said. Under U.S. immigration law, unaccompanied minors, children under 18 who arrive at the border without a parent or legal guardian, are supposed to receive special protections. They are typically placed under the care of the Office of Refugee Resettlement and granted humanitarian parole while their cases are processed. But in recent months, immigration advocates and attorneys say the system is being quietly dismantled. 'We're seeing more and more unaccompanied minors having their parole revoked and being thrown into immigration proceedings where they're completely unequipped to defend themselves,' said Davina Casa, pastor and leader of the Monarchy Organization. The group provides legal guidance and other services for immigrants in Illinois. Its main goal is to reunify families. Casas and Contreras have worked closely together to help Xally and other children arrive safely in the United States. What's more concerning, she said, is that in March, the Trump administration cut federal funding for legal representation for unaccompanied minors. Only after 11 immigrant groups sued, saying that 26,000 children were at risk of losing their attorneys, did a court order temporarily restore the funding, but the case is still ongoing. Those groups argued that the government has an obligation under a 2008 anti-trafficking law to provide vulnerable children with legal counsel. That same law requires safe repatriation of the children. But Casas is skeptical of that. Even if the funding has been restored, the demand can't keep up. In April, more than 8,300 children ages 11 and under were ordered deported by immigration courts. That is the highest number for that age group in any month since tracking began over 35 years ago, according to court data from the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse, as first reported by The Independent. Since Trump took office in January, judges have ordered the removal of over 53,000 immigrant children, according to the data collected. Most of those children are elementary school age or younger. Approximately 15,000 were under the age of 4, and another 20,000 were between 4 and 11 years old. Teenagers have also been affected, with 17,000 ordered deported, though that number is still below the peak seen in 2020, during Trump's first term. Some of the children are unaccompanied minors, like Xally and Daneli, but it's unclear how many, since immigration authorities stopped tracking that data years ago. In the Chicago area, it's hard to know how many children are currently being detained or deported, due to gaps in the available data. But according to data obtained by the Deportation Data Project and analyzed by the Tribune, at least 16 minors were deported or left the U.S. after being booked in Chicago-area ICE detention centers during Trump's first 150 days back in office. Another seven cases are still pending. If all seven of those cases result in deportation, that would bring the total to 23 minors — about the same number as were deported in the final 150 days of the Biden administration. But the latest available ICE data doesn't capture any efforts since late June. When Xally learned that Daneli had returned home, she panicked. The two girls had spent a few nights at the church, confiding in each other the fear that few other young girls would understand. 'Would I have to do that too?' she asked herself. 'I don't want to. I like school here, I want to go back after summer break.' Xally is enrolled at Robert Abbott Middle School in Waukegan, where she would enter eighth grade if she stays in the country. Meanwhile, her summer has been shadowed by fear and uncertainty. Just days after receiving the letter, her family quietly marked her 13th birthday — no guests, no music, no gifts. She can't even go anymore to the beach, a place that once felt like the freedom and safety she and her mother had desperately sought after being released from federal custody.
