My DACA Career Playbook: Leaping from Comfort to Growth
As a DACA recipient, I felt that any opportunity I received, I had to be as grateful as possible and protect it as if it could be swiped away from me at any moment. This push and pull likely shaped many decisions in my life, including my approach to the professional world. If you have DACA, you are probably familiar with the plastic card that defines your life: the Employment Authorization Card—the one that clearly states “Not Eligible for Reentry to U.S.” I may not be able to leave the country, but I sure can stick around and work. One of the key powers of this card is that it made me eligible to work—a fundamental path most immigrants know they are destined for when migrating to the U.S. However, most don't have government permission to do so, but I was one of the privileged few who did.
When I was applying for my first jobs, I was a nervous wreck. There wasn't anyone who advised me on what to do or how to prepare. I was in high school, excited and nervous that I could legally work and no longer needed to clean houses with my mom. So, I just dove right in. I did my best to find something that would fit my school schedule and provide me with a paycheck.
I landed in retail, staying loyal to that first job probably longer than most teens, working there for three years through high school and college. For some reason, I thought it was a fluke and there was no way I'd be able to find anything else. That, of course, wasn’t the case, and I was able to find a few part-time jobs after that. I ended up as a student worker while completing my bachelor's degree, and soon after graduating, I was ready to apply for my first full-time job. By this time, I had more knowledge on how to prepare, interview, and write my resume. My time as a student worker also made me a stellar candidate for a full-time position at the university; I had extensive knowledge and experience in the role that would allow for a smooth transition.
Looking back, I realize that it was the path of least resistance. I had a fear that I wouldn't be able to find another job outside of that role, and I had low confidence in the value I could provide elsewhere. I sold myself short and didn’t even apply for any other jobs. I don’t regret my lack of initiative because I believe I was exactly where I needed to be. I know that my work made an impact, and I had a part in starting the educational journey of so many students—whether they attended the university with my help or because my advice had led them elsewhere. I also strengthened friendships with coworkers that turned into some of the most important people in my life. It was a great first "grown-up" job, but it was an "easy" find, and it was comfortable.
Comfort is something I don’t do too well with in the long term. I am so driven that eventually I get uncomfortable in comfort and need to find something new and challenging. It didn’t help that my best friend/coworker started to get the itch to leave our job at the same time. I wish I could say that as soon as we had this feeling we did something about it. I believe we stuck it out for another year, maybe even two, before we decided enough was enough. This was almost four years ago. Here’s what I did to find my current job in an industry and role that is completely unrelated to anything I'd done before.
This likely isn’t going to be groundbreaking information, but perhaps it’s the little guidance and motivation you need. The first step might be unique to those with employment authorization, but the first thing I did was look at the expiration date on my work authorization card. I wanted to make sure I had a year or more before my expiration date so I wouldn’t be stuck with the stress of job searching and applying for DACA renewal at the same time. This was going to be the first time I was looking for a professional job, and I was going to leave my comfortable workplace.
Every single day, I was a nervous wreck, fighting the anxiety and worry that I was making a big mistake. I remember a phone call with my mom where I was in my backyard and I started sobbing about how unhappy I was at my current job. How I felt that I was drowning, not because I couldn’t do it but because I had to do it. I had been there so long it felt like I was reliving the same day, same week, over and over again.
This wasn’t the first time I had vented to my mom, so I was expecting her to tell me what she had always told me: “¡Ánimo, mija, tú puedes! Gracias a Dios que tienes este trabajo, hay que seguir adelante y mañana será mejor.” While she was trying to be supportive, her words held me back because I just had to be grateful. But this time around, I think she heard all the things I couldn’t say through my broken sobs, and she told me to go for it. That if anything failed, she had my back. She even wanted me to quit immediately, offering to pay my bills so I could have some time off. Her support was exactly what I needed to gain the courage and take the leap. I never planned to take her up on her offer, but it was what I needed to hear. I knew that taking the next steps wouldn’t disappoint her; instead, she’d be proud of me.
The next steps are probably going to seem like I had it all figured out—trust me, I didn’t. But, I sprung into action. The first big thing I did was cut back on my spending and started saving in case I found myself needing to take a pay cut. I went through my finances with a fine-tooth comb (I actually love doing this!) to determine how much of a pay cut I was willing to take. Looking back with what I know about myself and my value now, I should’ve been aiming for a pay increase.
Then I started draining my PTO at work. I didn’t even have anywhere to go, but I took all my time off. Some of my time off went to scheduling medical visits, interviews, and even organizing my home. I made sure to gather all possible documents I would need from this job and organize them accordingly.
If you are able to stay at your current job for a little longer, get your affairs in order. What I mean by this is to use up any perks or benefits while you still have them. Most of the time, your medical insurance doesn't kick in until about a month into your new job. So, if you have medical benefits you haven't used, USE THEM.
Next, it was time to edit my resume. I was taking note of every notable project and contribution I had in my career. I was creating different versions of my resumes and cover letters tailored to the jobs I was interested in applying for. This process is brutal, and it’s where I felt imposter syndrome the most. I had strong relationships with coworkers, so I was able to have them review my resume or ask them for references. It also helped that I had my best friend/coworker going through the job search process as well; we could be each other's sounding board and had someone to vent to through it all. Find someone to lean on for this process—it’s not going to be easy.
I applied to anything and everything that I was remotely interested in. Sometimes I applied just for the fun of it, especially when I had discredited myself for the job. There were nights I spent hours going through applications, making edits to my resume and cover letter, hoping that it was enough to stand out. I was living with my now-husband at the time, and the poor man saw some of the worst sides of me.
It was like the rejections and interviews would dictate my overall mood. Sometimes there were only rejections. Other times, there were interviews where I was sure I did well, only to never hear from them again. Other interviews I bombed so badly, I still play back the conversation in my head: Why did I say that? I would get so consumed in the process, I would forget that life was still happening. I’d forget to clean the house or do the basic housekeeping tasks (I don’t think I did the dishes once during this time). I think it was a combination of doubt and fear that I was going to be stuck in the same job forever. I thought I wasn't good enough and that I should just count myself blessed and stick to what I knew.
After months of continuously getting my hopes up only to be let down, I finally found myself with two job offers. I took the one I liked most—the one that was also the bigger risk. I knew nothing about people operations, but I went for it (and I'm still there today, and in a way different and better role!). The risk really paid off. I’ve grown and learned more than I ever thought I would in a three-year time span.
I can't deny that the process was brutal. By the end of it, I remember deleting over 40 versions of cover letters and resumes. I can, however, say it was 100% worth it. If I didn't love where I am, I'd go through it all again.
The plastic card may define eligibility, but it doesn't define your potential or limit your ambition. My experience taught me the immense power in taking control of my narrative and charting my own course, even when fear was overwhelming. To every DACA recipient out there feeling stuck or uncertain: your ambition is valid, your talent is needed, and your path is waiting to be forged. You have the strength within you to make that leap. What's one fear you're ready to face in your career journey?