Coruscation

Next June, among the thousands of graduates in U.C.L.A.'s class of 2011, around 30 will be undocumented students, including Leslie, Ilse and Andrea. During the commencement ceremony, the women will move their cap tassels from right to left. They will listen to commencement speeches with phrases like "moving forward" and "a new future." They will know that many of the words do not apply to them. "It feels like a slam," Ilse said. "It's not closure for me. It doesn't promote me."

Like Ilse, Leslie will probably move home after her final quarter, losing the protection a university offers, where it is safe to take risks -- to say, "I'm undocumented." Leslie expects to work full time cleaning houses and waitressing. She says she hopes to earn a private scholarship for grad school, which would buy time for the Dream Act to pass, after which she could be employed legally. She'd like to be a social worker or a counselor or a lawyer for a nonprofit. For now, she knows the reality: many undocumented U.C.L.A. graduates are short-order cooks, waitresses, baby-sitters, doing jobs for which they do not need a high-school diploma.