Cross-status

The undocumented fall in love, too. They dance all night, hook up, wonder who's going to pay for the date, and dream about the future.

That's what a panel of six "cross-status" lovers - people in relationships in which one partner is illegally in this country - talked about last night at Self Help Graphics in East L.A. with several dozen people in attendance.

In the last six months undocumented students have been visible as never before as supporters of the DREAM Act ramped up their efforts to convince Washington D.C. lawmakers to grant legalization to youth brought to this country as children. At Cal State Fresno the student body president came out as undocumented and told his story on Capitol Hill. Undocumented students boldly accepted arrest outside the office doors of two U.S. Senators, urging them to recognize merit and the American dream and vote for the DREAM Act.

All that's been the result of a lot of organizing on university campuses. The cross-status love panel, said 26 year-old Jorge Gutierrez, is a needed breather to check in that emotionally everyone's doing fine.

"We don't create enough of these spaces for people to vent out and talk about relationships and how does our status influence and affect our relationships and our habits of dating," Gutierrez said. He sat with the five other panelists on converted church pews. Most are DREAM Act activists. For him going out with someone who lives more than five miles away has become a hassle because he can't get a driver's license. And then there's the matter of being gay which limits his options even more. He's looking for love.

"There were two relationships that came out of the hunger strike. I hope one day to get a chunk of that. I haven't dated within the movement," Gutierrez said.

The event was part confessional and part therapy session - lots of talk about discovering that open communication is key - and part best practices workshop. Like easing the risks of driving without a license, depending on the legal resident partner for rides all the time, and how to get your car back after it's been towed. Those details came from the Guatemalan American Marine on the panel who is going out with an undocumented woman. There was no talk about romance or sex and I kept my sordid curiosity in check during the Q & A.

Standing in line for a club or going to a bar are mostly unattainable privileges right now, says Jessica an undergrad at one of the Claremont colleges. She and her girlfriend - who's a legal resident - used to go to Tiger Heat, the queer night at the Hollywood club Avalon. Her heart sank when the bouncer wouldn't take her Mexican consular card as valid ID. It's easily forged, someone at the club told her. She says that's bull because she knows people who get in with forged California drivers licenses.

East L.A. College student Erick Huerta, himself sin papeles, organized the event. He provided most of the laughs. He's dated women for whom being undocumented is no big deal, "Oh you don't have papers? My uncle doesn't have papers, how cool!" one girlfriend told him.

A UCLA student who's dating an undocumented activist talked about the beauty of sharing a trip with him to Washington State. Their relationship is approaching a fork in the road. If a vote in Washington D.C. grants him legalization they'll be able to plan. He's adamant that he doesn't want to marry her until he's legally in this country He wants to prove that he's not in love with her U.S. citizenship. But how long will that be, she wonders, and should she continue to wait if the U.S. Senate gives its thumbs down.

Thanks for creating the space to talk about this, several panelists and attendees said. After the event everyone walked down the steel stairs into the East L.A. night. The green neon Sears sign in the distance was off. And at the other end of the country there was still no vote on the DREAM Act.