Ali still remembers the exact date he arrived in the United States, June 5, 2006. Then, at the age of 15, he left his family, friends, and home country of Guinea, for the chance at a better education.

At the time he left West Africa, schools had been closed for months because of revolts in the streets and political unrest, so Ali’s father decided to send his son to live with an uncle in the Bronx to attend school.

Ali, a gentle giant, dreams of becoming an international business man, like his father. He shoots hoops with his friends after school at Crotona Park and plays cricket on the weekends.

Now a senior, as Ali studies vocabulary for the SAT and fills out college applications, his three-year visa has expired and plans for his future remain in flux.

Ali whose name has been changed in this story due to his immigration status, is one of 65,000 undocumented students who graduate high school every year, according to a 2007 report from the Immigration Policy Center. Only 5 to 10 percent of them actually go on to college.

There is no federal law that bans illegal immigrants from attending college or higher education. But without access to federal and state financial aid, access to loans, and being able to work legally, the reality of attending college becomes bleak.

“I want to stay and continue my education; college is a big thing,” said Ali. “If I go from the 1st grade through the 12th grade and I learn all these things, and I don’t go to college, I think it is all going to be a waste.”

Berena Cabarcas, the principal and founder of Bronx International Community High School, where Ali attends school, said a lot of undocumented students give up on academics because they could not see how they could afford college.

“Those who did go onto higher education, paid full price at one of the City University of New York colleges, and had to work off the books to support themselves and their education, sometimes taking eight to 10 years to earn a bachelors degree,” said Cabarcas.

New York is one of 10 states that allow undocumented students to pay in-state tuition rates if they graduate from a high school in the state.

But without a scholarship or financial aid, tuition at the State University of New York to obtain a bachelor’s degree can range from $13,500 a year for a commuter student to $19,200 a year for a student who lives on campus.

And at CUNY, a system that was once free for students, yearly tuition now costs $4,600 at senior colleges, and $3,200 a year at community colleges.

Last spring, Sen. Richard Durbin (D-Ill.) reintroduced the Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors, known as the DREAM Act in Congress.

The bipartisan and controversial federal legislation openly supported by President Barack Obama and also Mayor Michael Bloomberg, would provide a pathway to citizenship for undocumented students who arrive in the United States before the age of 16, graduate high school, and complete two years of higher education or military service.

Upon high school graduation, students like Ali could apply for conditional legal status, which means they could work legally, obtain a driver’s license, qualify for federal student loans, work study, and would be protected from deportation.

After two years of college or military service, students would then be eligible to apply for permanent residency, and in another five years DREAM Act students could be granted citizenship.

“Many of these young people feel that this is their country. They have grown up here. They feel a part of the communities they live and they have been excluded in such a significant way,” said Aryah Somers, an attorney at The Door, a nonprofit organization that provides free legal services to youth in New York City.

Somers added, “The classic DREAM Act kid got here when they were 3 years old, are leaders or activists in their community, graduate in the top 10 percent of their high school class, work 2 to 3 jobs, and are the first kids in their family to go to college.”

But without a clear pathway to citizenship undocumented students are very limited in their options and chances to go to college.

The last time the DREAM Act was introduced into congress in 2007, the bill was defeated by a 52 to 44 vote in the Senate. Every bill needs the support of at least 60 U.S. senators to be debated on the floor.

Opponents of the legislation argue that the bill would reward those who broke the law and would become a backdoor amnesty for illegal immigrants.

Others strategize that a standalone bill would lessen the chance for broader immigration reform, which also failed in 2007.

“The likeliest scenario for a major immigration proposal, like the DREAM Act, would be that it be taken up as part of comprehensive immigration reform,” said Brian Fallon, spokesman for Sen. Charles Schumer (D-N.Y.).

Fallon said that Schumer is drafting a comprehensive immigration bill with Republican Sen. Lindsay Graham (R-S.C.) and that Schumer expects that the bipartisan bill could be ready for discussion as soon as the healthcare debate in Congress is concluded, most likely in 2010.

Although Fallon would not confirm that the DREAM Act or any other particular provision would be included in the Schumer bill, he did say questions about children brought to the country illegally and whether or not they would be provided an independent pathway to citizenship would be addressed.

As for Ali and the thousands of other children who could possibly be impacted by such a bill, their lives and futures in this country remain to be put on hold.

In her Senior year of high school, Jenni was in charge of posting her classmates college acceptance letters to a bulletin board outside of the guidance office. She stapled everyone’s congratulatory letters to the board, except for her own.

To her shock, she didn’t receive one acceptance letter to the six colleges she applied. Instead she received letters that read, “Thank you for your application, but we regret . . . ,” a result she believes was because of her immigration status, rather than her grades.

After many tears and sleepless nights, Jenni never gave up and completed a second round of applications. She was eventually accepted to three colleges, but she kept the congratulation letters to herself.

Today she is a first year student at a community college in Queens.

Hear Jenni’s story below

Jenni has since found a job as a cashier at Queens grocery store. She attends school full time and works 6 days a week.

Jose has lived in New York City nearly his entire life.  Born in Mexico and arriving in the United States as a young child, Brooklyn is the only home he has ever known.

Jose first began to think about college as a sophomore in high school. His plan was to go to college, graduate, and start a “good” career.  But when a guidance counselor told him about all the required paperwork he would need to apply to college, including a social security number, he thought he wasn’t eligible and stopped being motivated in school.

After high school Jose found work as a line cook in a restaurant by South Street Seaport. Unsatisfied with working in a kitchen at a low wage, Jose applied to a local Brooklyn college and has been taking classes since 2006. In two more years he plans to graduate with an associate’s degree in electro-mechanical engineering.

Today Jose sees his dream career as joining the army, but without a green card, social security number, or as he puts it, “those nine magic numbers,” recruiters have turned him away.

 Jose still works part time at the restaurant by the Seaport. To get from school to work, Jose walks the Brooklyn Bridge. Hear his story below.

In high school she was one of the top honor students. She would stay late into the evening for after school programs, and organized events like the first annual breast cancer walk.

But senior year when her circle of friends were planning and plotting who they were going to dorm with in college, Sonia knew she had to stay home to go to school.

Today Sonia is in her junior year of college, has 3 majors, a full scholarship and is a budding activist.

Hear Sonia’s story below.

Ozami never had trouble applying or being accepted into college.

He graduated high school in only three and a half years, had the full support of his family, earned a scholarship during his first two years at college and worked part-time to pay for his expenses.

Born in Mexico City, Ozami came to New York when he was 12 years old. The original plan was to stay only one year to improve his English and reunite with his father who was already living in the United States.

But once Ozami began school his father decided it was best for his son to stay in New York until he earned a college degree.

Now as that day fast approaches, Ozami faces a difficult decision: to stay in New York City, the place that has become his home for nearly ten years with his friends and girlfriend or to return to Mexico with his parents.

As an accounting major, Ozami’s wishes he could work at a top New York firm, not as a consultant or having to hide his immigration status, but as a full time employee.

And as he considers his employment options upon graduation, reality sets in that his opportunities for work in the accounting profession are limited, especially compared to those of his friends and peers, some who already have jobs.

For Ozami, life in New York is more to him than just school or a job.

But the thought of staying alone without legal status, and without the support of his family makes his future unclear.

To Alejandra, she should already be a senior in college, living away from home and gearing up for graduation.

But instead she lives with her family and babysits two kids, five to six days a week.

Born in Honduras, Alejandra came to the United States when she was 6 years old. She grew up in the Bronx, attended public schools, and graduated high school four years ago.

In school Alejandra never told anyone about her immigration status, fearing that she would cause unwanted attention to herself and possibly even be forced to return to her home country.

One day, an assistant principal confronted Alejandra, questioning why she, an honor roll student, had not applied for college.

At first Alejandra responded that she didn’t want to go to college. She knew her parents could not afford to pay for her tuition and that she was ineligible for financial aid.

But eventually she shared her dilemma and with the school and was given one option.

Refusing to get married, Alejandra applied to college regardless of her immigration status and was accepted.

She received a scholarship to pay for her first semester at a community college in Manhattan. But soon after the first semester, Alejandra dropped out because she could no longer afford to pay her tuition on her own.

During her first semester at college, Alejandra’s parents began the process to become legalized and have since become U.S. citizens, but Alejandra and her brother remain undocumented.

Alejandra remembers the day her parents received their papers.

Alejandra’s mom has initiated a petition for her daughter’s citizenship.

But today Alejandra still waits for her paper work to come through.