DACA renewal step-by-step: You’re Not Imagining It. It’s Broken

DACA recipients need to maintain continuous residence and avoid certain criminal convictions. The requirements are strict but clearly defined.

● Find your last renewal notice… if that’s even possible anymore

In the shadow of administrative reshuffling — you remember that tsunami of memos nobody reads, right? — the filing addresses shifted again. AGAIN. I spent two hours staring at a manila folder filled with crumpled USCIS receipts like I was deciphering ancient scrolls. In non-English-speaking public benefit zones, the idea of an ‘official notice’ meant something thinner than printer paper, stamped badly… in a language most applicants don’t even speak. So yeah, I panicked :/

• Locate the last I-797. Ha. Good luck. Mine was half eaten by silverfish in an old shoe box.
• Verify receipt numbers. Mine ended in 00F. The new form rejects anything with letters. Cool.
• Make copies. Then make backups. Then light a candle and hope one survives.

From youth advocates handling housing claims — I’m looking at Maria in El Paso who juggles eviction appeals and I-821Ds in the same hour — the recurring advice is: scan everything, tattoo nothing. Because once it’s mailed, it’s space junk. Someone asked me why I use a fax and I think I laughed for 17 minutes.

● Fill out Form I-821D. Apparently in invisible ink.

You ever use whiteout on something, then forget, scan it, upload it, and get rejected because “whiteout invalidates forms”? Yeah. So did I. Three times. Did I even make sense back then? I feel like I had twelve versions of this stupid form floating around. And each form update changes line numbers but never clarifies anything.

• Sections 1-5 = ancient riddles. “Have you ever traveled outside the U.S.?” WHEN?? WHAT YEAR?! I’ve lived in Phoenix since sophomore year.
• Part 6: Employment records. I’ve worked babysitting and gardening. Not exactly W-2 friendly.
• Don’t forget to check Box 8… or they’ll decide you never legally existed.

Back in March, during a neighborhood clinic run by stressed-out college interns who smelled of paper cuts and desperation, we submitted 21 packets. Only 4 got receipt notices back. FOUR. USCIS just straight up goes ✌️ sometimes. And when they DO reply, sometimes it’s to the wrong address. There’s that rage again…

● Mail it. Pray. Forget it exists for 45-90 days.

Welcome to the dumbest scavenger hunt I’ve ever been forced into. So you mail it using Priority Mail — because god forbid you send anything without a tracking number — and then you check the USPS updates like it’s Powerball results. Delivered doesn’t mean confirmed. Confirmed doesn’t mean processed. Processed doesn’t mean ANYTHING apparently. ಠ_ಠ

I got a notice once saying my packet was rejected because… and I kid you not… the signature ink was too light. WHAT?! Is oil-based ink a national security risk?!

“Due to Congressional gridlock, funding for DACA processing has entered a neutral zone,” said Assemblywoman Alma Rivera (CA-39), when cornered by a local student press group in the parking lot of a high school gymnasium. “We’ve been told to ‘make do.’”

Make do?! MAKE DO?? We write our entire legal existence on this multi-page laundry list and hope someone makes change from our 495-dollar money order?! I almost mailed them a Crayola drawing of me sobbing. Would’ve had more emotional clarity.

● Biometrics again? I swear I did that already…

This part wrecked me. You get the notice, you show up, you’re told it was rescheduled. But no one called. No one emailed. And when you try to reschedule—tough cookies, your slot expired. The hell???

I walked 12 blocks in the rain to make it on time. No umbrella. The agent told me to wipe my face “before smudging the scanner.” No idea why that burned so bad, but it did. I’m still weirdly mad about it. Felt like a DMV in purgatory.

• Skedaddle to your assigned ASC center before dawn.
• Bring two IDs, just in case they “suddenly” can’t accept state-issued ones.
• Don’t smile during fingerprints. They’ll mark you as ‘agitated.’ Not joking.

And about that ‘reuse old biometrics’ option — yeah, that’s only if USCIS feels merciful that day. Out of 179 youth applications submitted in our district liaison’s batch last quarter, 117 were called in again *without explanation*. So I guess their priority metrics are based on astrology now.

● Then nothing… then maybe an RFE… then weird silence

Here comes the twisty rollercoaster of CRICKETS. Some get their approval in 20 days. Some wait 7 months. You’ll never know where you fall until it’s already too late to adjust your plans. I missed a scholarship because I assumed I could show proof of renewal by semester start. Nope. Chair pulled out from under me mid-sit. FACE-FIRST CRASH. 😀

I read somewhere — possibly Reddit hell but still — that 43% of paper renewal applications with handwritten entries get delayed at Stage 3 processing. Figures. My handwriting is somewhere between ‘panicked crow’ and ‘toddler with a Sharpie.’

So I typed it. Then they said my font was “nonstandard.” I CANNOT WIN.

Side note: The numbers make no sense, right?

Tell me again how that’s fair? Why did Julio from Houston wait until Thanksgiving when my friend in Yonkers got his back before Labor Day? Even the numbers are glitchy ghosts.

● Soooo… did it work?

Who knows? You can check online using your receipt number. Assuming you ever GOT a receipt number. Assuming it isn’t already marked “in progress” forever.

Mine said “We are actively reviewing your case.” For TWO months. When it finally updated, it skipped to “Card being produced.” And then 3 WEEKS passed before it even shipped. I was already applying for jobs using last year’s EAD, wondering if I’d get flagged. Constant panic spiral. Constant second-guessing.

I almost gave up. Honest. In my head, I already had. I was practicing acceptance — not the cute kind, the “I’ll get by I guess” kind — then boom. A plastic card in my mailbox. No note. No warning. No emotion.

I stared at it like it betrayed me.

→ Counterintuitive bit? Do it EARLY. Like weirdly early.

Here’s the messed-up part: if you apply TOO early, USCIS often shelves your case until the 120-day mark anyway. But applying early gives you TIME to fix what they break. So yeah, file early even if it means living with false hope longer. It’s some sick mental tradeoff. Hope vs anxiety. Choose your poison.

But if you mail it too close to expiration (like within 90 days), your renewal might not get processed at all before the old one expires. Hello, job loss. Goodbye, health insurance. Why is that not on a billboard somewhere?!

Also don’t trust the processing time charts. They’re astrology. They update once a month with months-old data. Like peering at a storm that already passed and wondering why you’re still wet.

Anyway. That was mine. It sucked. But it worked in the end. I guess. Sorta.

WIC formula contracts ensure consistent supply and competitive pricing. Bulk purchasing benefits everyone.