Her family moved to Waterloo from the Mexican state of Michoacan when she was a young child. Her parents worked in a meatpacking plant.

Growing up, she went to Waterloo schools. She earned good grades and ran track at West High School, where she graduated in 2005. She dreamed of going to college and becoming a doctor. She felt no different from other people. She considered herself an American, an Iowan.

But her most cherished dream is now on hold as Congress debates the fate of immigration proposals that could ultimately brand her a citizen or felon.

Her life is on hold because her immigration status disqualifies her for federal student loans, grants and scholarships.

"When I started high school, I didn't know that I wasn't going to be able to go to college," said Sandra, who asked that her last name not be printed because she's undocumented. "But when I graduated, it was like boom . . . my face on the door."

The DREAM Act, which stands for Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors, could help Sandra and other undocumented immigrants make their college and citizenship dreams a reality.

The act, part of provisions passed recently by the Senate Judiciary Committee, would allow undocumented students who arrived in the United States before age 16 and who were here at least five years before the provision is enacted to become legal residents after meeting certain conditions. The controversial immigration legislation, which was not part of immigration provisions approved by the House, has stalled recently.

Some Iowans don't want to give immigrants access to federal loans and citizenship for what they said is breaking the law.

He's opposed

Retired meat inspector Albert Barwick, 69, of Agency said it has angered him to watch news accounts of immigrants "out protesting in the streets" for rights to citizenship and education that he said they don't deserve.

"We are now inundated with undocumented immigrants, and they seem to have more rights than we American citizens have," said Barwick, who has four grown children and nine grandchildren.

Gina Cassis, executive director of El Centro Latinoamericano, a Waterloo community center that serves 5,000 Latinos from the Cedar Falls and Waterloo area, said current laws are unfair.

"They were brought as babies. They have grown up here," she said. "They should be considered as an Iowa resident."

If approved, the act also would eliminate a federal provision discouraging states from providing in-state tuition to undocumented immigrants. According to the Education Commission of the States, nine states allow undocumented immigrants to pay in-state tuition: California, Illinois, Kansas, New Mexico, New York, Oklahoma, Texas, Utah and Washington. About 30 states have considered similar proposals, the Denver-based advocacy group found.

In Iowa, undocumented immigrants who attend public universities pay more than three times the rate of resident students, according to the Iowa Board of Regents. For example, base tuition this fall at Iowa State University is $5,110 for resident students. The tuition rate for nonresident students is $17,334.

"A student that is not considered a resident or doesn't have the proper paperwork would be charged nonresident rates," said Diana Gonzalez , policy and operations officer for the Iowa Board of Regents.

She said she does not know how many undocumented students attend regents schools.

At Wartburg

At Wartburg College in Waverly, officials said all 1,811 students all pay the same tuition rate, which is $21,980 a year. More than 96 percent of the students receive federal financial aid, officials said.

Edith Waldstein, vice president for enrollment management at Wartburg, said students who enroll on a part-time basis, like Sandra, don't have to show any documents to take classes. The college wouldn't know whether the students were undocumented, she said. Undocumented students at Wartburg are likely a "very, very rare occurrence," she said.

"Even though it's very much a situation we need to be aware of and thinking about for the future, it's still important to remember that colleges and universities are not in the position of being the watchdogs for citizenship status," Waldstein said.

Estimating the number of undocumented immigrants who graduate from high schools across the country each year is difficult, but the Urban Institute, a Washington, D.C.-based research group, puts the figure at 65,000. The Pew Hispanic Center on Thursday released a report that estimates the country has 11 million to 12 million undocumented people.

Willing to work

Sandra said Waterloo residents and an anonymous donor paid for her to take psychology and English classes at Wartburg last fall, but she could afford only one class this semester. She said she is willing to work nights and long hours to pay her own way, but she can't because she doesn't want to do anything "undocumented" such as using fake documents to get a job that might hinder her chances of eventual citizenship.

"Illegal people don't breach the laws by working illegally just because they want to, it's because they need to," she said. "Still, I don't want to do it. I don't want to risk it if that's my only chance of getting my education and a Social Security number."

Cassis said Latinos drop out of high school in rates much higher than others, and undocumented Latinos who know they can't attend college will find little reason to finish high school.

"Why pay for their education from kindergarten through high school and then not let them go on to college and become professionals?" she said. "That doesn't make any sense."

It makes sense to Barwick, who said he has sent letters to top government officials in Washington, complaining about undocumented immigrants.

"It's our tax dollars that are spent to educate them," Barwick said. "And I'm very much against that."

Barwick, who spends most of his time watching news programs and reading newspapers, said undocumented immigrants inundate communities "with all this undocumented activity."

Iowa lives

Cassis said undocumented immigrants work and build lives in Iowa. They will keep coming, she said. It doesn't make sense that the immigrants' only choice seems to be to work in low-level factory jobs and live in fear as part of an undocumented underclass, she said.

It's a class Sandra desperately wants to escape. She's grateful to her parents, who have faced the risk of deportation daily so she and her siblings can have a chance at better lives in America.

A chance to escape Mexico, where Sandra has vague memories of being hungry and shoeless.

"It seems that nobody cares about people like me," Sandra said. "It's a burden when you wait every day for good news and all you get is bad news: laws against undocumented people. No aid for us. So every day becomes harder, harder and more uncertain. It's a lot of fear."

Eventually, lawmakers will decide her fate. Until then, she waits. No job. Her college dreams slipping away.

"They should thank God they have the privilege of being here legally and they have the luck of not being born like me with all these troubles that I have to go through," she said.