Dayanna Robelledo, a 20-year-old second-year student at Henry Ford Community College, has been living in the United States since she was nine years old. But because of one day a few years ago, Robelledo’s life is drastically different from that of other American college students.

Her grandfather, who was an American citizen, was in the process of helping the rest of her family apply for citizenship. Robelledo says her grandfather was missing one page of the necessary paper work, so he decided to drive home from work to pick it up. On the way back from his job he got into a car accident and died.

That day changed the trajectory of Robelledo’s life forever. Instead of being able to consider any college, like her other high school friends, Robelledo’s choices were limited. Though some universities would accept her without a social security number, if they were public she would likely have to pay an international student rate, and if they were private her family wouldn't be able to afford tuition. And there was no help in sight — without citizenship, Robelledo couldn’t apply for financial aid.

Robelledo was able to find a college that would take her and fit within her price range, but to pay for it she now works 12-hour shifts at a factory during the semester.

And it’s unclear if all that work will even pay off in the end because it will be nearly impossible for Robelledo to pursue her dream of becoming a teacher without a viable path toward citizenship.

Robelledo and other students like her are working to get Congress to pass one piece of legislation that they hope will take their aspirations off hold. The bill — the Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors Act — was shot down last month when it was before the U.S. Senate as part of a larger defense bill. But if passed, the DREAM Act would allow undocumented individuals to earn citizenship through two years of college or two years of military service.

For Robelledo, getting the legislation passed amounts to a question of her livelihood.

"If the DREAM Act were to pass, (undocumented students) would become non-deportable so I wouldn’t have that fear of maybe getting deported tomorrow," Robelledo said.

Students around the country and across southeast Michigan are working through rallies, calling campaigns and even public arrests to push Congress to act, and despite the recent set back, they say they’re not giving up.

“We’re a little disappointed that the vote wasn’t moved upon,” said Education senior Samantha Nawrocki. “We definitely didn’t see it as a defeat for the DREAM Act. We’re re-strategizing on how we’re going to keep pressuring Congress. Since we have a little bit more time we’re going to continue to try to grow the base.”

Nawrocki is an organizer with One Michigan — a group with chapters around the state that is advocating for the DREAM Act. Nawrocki, who has a passion for immigrants’ rights issues, said she first became involved with the DREAM Act after meeting undocumented students at a sort of DREAM Act activism boot camp.

“These people really became my friends and seeing what the DREAM Act would mean to them and their futures was how I became invested in the DREAM Act,” she said. “With a lot of these students, they’re going through college right now, but what does that really mean in the end?”

This is a question that Maria Ibarra asks herself all the time. Ibarra, 20, is a junior at the University of Detroit Mercy studying English and social work, but because she is an undocumented citizen, her degrees will amount to little once she graduates.

“If the DREAM Act doesn’t pass, I won’t be able to get my (social work) license,” she said.

But there are other challenges that Ibarra faces on a day-to-day basis. She works full time while attending school, so when her friends are out having fun, she is always busy catching up on homework.

Living off-campus also creates daily obstacles.