The Brief

Each year more than 35,000 undocumented students with dreams of earning a college degree in California apply for the state’s marquee financial aid program, the Cal Grant — but only about a third receive it.

With no access to federal financial aid and few work opportunities, losing out on state dollars further undermines the ability of undocumented students to pay for school. The Cal Grant, for example, waives tuition at California’s public universities and provides cash awards of about $1,650 to community college students

Now, after several years of advocacy and a state law passed this year, California financial aid administrators are about to debut a revised application meant to get more college grants for undocumented students.

“What we all recognized was that we’ve asked these students to go through more processes, more forms, unfortunately to receive less financial aid,” said Jake Brymner, deputy director for policy and public affairs for the California Student Aid Commission. He and a commission staff member provided CalMatters with a virtual walkthrough of the new application.

The California Dream Act Application, often called CADAA, will for the first time allow students to also complete a frequently overlooked legal affidavit that’s essential to accessing state aid. The new application will debut by the end of December.

While a seemingly small change, it spares students from having to fill out two documents separately and at different times in the year, which has been the process ever since undocumented students became eligible for state aid through a 2011 state law. That has resulted in many students completing one form but not the other out of confusion or lack of awareness.

For example, among community college students, about 62,000 completed the affidavit but only around 25,000 finished the dream act application in 2021, according to data from the California Student Aid Commission, the state agency behind the application overhaul.

Without the application and affidavit, undocumented community college students can’t receive the Cal Grant and other related aid, such as a grant for full-time students and money in exchange for community service. Those three programs together provide more than $14,000 in possible grants annually. Undocumented students at public universities also lose out on key aid. Most undocumented college students in California attend a community college.

Now the legal affidavit will be embedded in the California Dream Act Application, the result of a 2023 state law created through Assembly Bill 1540, authored by Mike Fong, a Democrat from Monterey Park.

The changes should help students who are in a situation Leo Rodriguez was in when he began college. “When I first enrolled at a community college, I was billed $6,000 because I was incorrectly deemed an international student, a common occurrence for undocumented students,” he wrote in a May CalMatters commentary about affording college as an undocumented student. Though he attended and graduated from a California high school, he didn’t know that he needed the affidavit “to prove eligibility for in-state tuition, and to separately complete a Dream Act application to be considered for financial aid.”

A March report by the commission identified many of the hurdles undocumented students face in accessing state aid, including student confusion over the affidavit. All told, only about 14% of the state’s nearly 100,000 undocumented college students received any state financial aid in 2021-22, in large part because half didn’t take the first step to apply for aid even though many have low incomes. The report called for a state law to allow the affidavit to be a part of the dream act application. About half a year later, Fong’s bill was signed into law.

The affidavit in question stems from a 2001 law that has been amended several times since. It grants undocumented students, certain visa holders and other college-goers in-state tuition at California’s public universities and community colleges. This is a major perk because students deemed non-residents are charged about three times more in tuition. The in-state designation also makes undocumented students eligible for state grants, such as tuition waivers and cash awards.

That’s where the California Dream Act Application and the affidavit intersect: One opens the door for aid, the other lets the applicant walk through it.

Students who sign the affidavit declare that they’ve either filed an application to legalize their immigration status in the U.S. or will do so once national law creates such a pathway. It also has students confirm that they’ve had three years of K-12, adult school or community college education in California as well as: a high school diploma, an equivalent certificate, an associate degree or proof that they’ve taken the minimum set courses needed to transfer to a University of California or California State University campus.

FAFSA fact sheets are displayed at College Information Day at UC Berkeley in Berkeley on Oct. 14, 2023. Photo by Juliana Yamada for CalMatters

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Embedding the affidavit in the dream act application is “going to be a big step forward”, but it’s not the only step needed “to ensure that students can receive all the financial aid for whatever they have eligibility for,” said Nancy Jodaitis, director of higher education issues at Immigrants Rising, a San Francisco-based project of a larger nonprofit.

Sending the affidavit to the schools the student hopes to attend is the first step, but all UCs and Cal States, and about half of community colleges, require official transcripts and attendance records from the student. How campuses will notify students with outstanding paperwork will be an ongoing issue to monitor, Jodaitis said.

Immigrants Rising in May published a comprehensive guide explaining the affidavit process in partnership with the state’s public colleges and universities. It’s now working on a set of recommendations for how campuses can best apprise students of the remaining paperwork they’ll have to submit once they’ve turned in their affidavit through the dream act. That’ll be published in January, she added.

In 2024, UC will ask students to submit the affidavits to the campuses directly, instead of through the dream act application, a spokesperson said. That’s because the UC is constitutionally independent of many state laws. Community colleges and Cal State have to comply with the law.

Advocates who focus on financial aid for undocumented students say that schools, state agencies and nonprofits that share with students information about college affordability should proactively include the dream act application and its related forms.

“I hardly saw financial aid workshops tailored for undocumented students in high school,” wrote Rodriguez. Instead, he mostly encountered information about the federal Free Application for Federal Student Aid, “which sent mixed messages about whether or not I was eligible for financial aid to begin with,” he added.

State law now requires that high school seniors complete a financial aid application, with few exceptions. The more school districts and nonprofits can stress the federal financial aid grant and the dream act application, the likelier undocumented students will hear the message and apply, Jodaitis said.

Information students place in the dream act application isn’t shared with the federal government nor with immigration authorities, the commission and state department of education stressed in a 2022 letter. That’s a message the commission will likely repeat in the face of a presidential election year in which anti-immigrant sentiment is bound to take center stage.

Students applying for the dream act who intend to enter college in fall 2024 will submit their household’s 2022 income information. Once the application goes live, students pursuing a four-year degree should complete the dream act forms by April 2 or sooner. Students planning to attend a community college have until early September to file their paperwork.

Raul Malo, the leader of the country band The Mavericks and one of the most recognizable voices in roots music, died Monday night, according to a representative of the band. The guitarist and singer had been battling cancer.

He was hospitalized last week, forcing him to miss tribute shows staged in his honor at the Ryman Auditorium over the weekend. He was 60 years old.

"No one embodied life and love, joy and passion, family, friends, music and adventure the way our beloved Raul did," read a statement released by his family.

Malo's group, The Mavericks, mourned the loss of their leader in a social post.

"Anyone with the pleasure of being in Raul's orbit knew that he was a force of human nature, with an infectious energy," the statement read. "Over a career of more than three decades entertaining millions around the globe, his towering creative contributions and unrivaled, generational talent created the kind of multicultural American music reaching far beyond America itself."

Over a career that lasted four decades, The Mavericks lived up to the band's name, challenging expectations and following a roadmap crafted by Malo's expansive musical upbringing as the son of Cuban immigrants in Miami.

"I grew up in a very musical household. There was all kinds of music around always," he told WHYY's Fresh Air in 1995. "We listened to everything from Hank Williams to Celia Cruz to Sam Cooke to Bobby Darin. It didn't matter."

In 1992, Malo told NPR that his widespread influences weren't always understood or appreciated in his South Florida hometown, but he said that his struggle to fit in taught him to trust his instincts. Malo had become the guitarist and lead singer for The Mavericks in 1989, alongside co-founders Robert Reynolds and Paul Deakin, and his roaring, sentimental voice defined the band's sound and remained its constant as the group's catalog moved from slow, tender ballads to full-throttle rock songs. In 1995, the band released its biggest hit with "All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down," a swinging country song featuring an assist from Tex-Mex accordion legend Flaco Jimenez.

As the band grew in members and devoted listeners, The Mavericks continued to push the boundaries of American music, weaving a richly layered tapestry of textures and stories. With more than a dozen studio albums, The Mavericks collected praise and recognition from the Academy of Country Music, the Country Music Association and the Recording Academy. Although they took a hiatus for several years, Malo never stopped making music — and returned to his bandmates with renewed inspiration.

Following its 30th anniversary, the group released its first full-length Spanish album in 2020, aptly titled En Español. The record reimagined Latin standards and folklore-tinged popular tunes; it also made an implicit political statement about Latin music's contributions to American culture.

"In our own little way, if we could get somebody that perhaps is on the fence on issues and hears us singing in Spanish and perhaps reminds them of the beautiful cultures that make up what this country is trying to be and what it should be, so be it," Malo told NPR at the time. "Yeah, I'm OK with that."

The following year, the Americana Music Association recognized The Mavericks with the Trailblazer Award. In 2024, the band released its last studio album, Moon & Stars. The release coincided with news of Malo's cancer diagnosis, which he discussed openly with NPR's Ayesha Rascoe.

Before being hospitalized last week, Malo had been scheduled to perform with The Mavericks at a pair of tribute concerts held this past weekend at the legendary Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. Over 30 artists, including Patty Griffin, Jim Lauderdale and Steve Earle, still gathered to pay tribute to Malo, with some of the proceeds of the night going to the cancer prevention organization Stand Up To Cancer.

According to his spokesperson, though Malo was too ill to attend, the concert was streamed to his hospital room Friday night.

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The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department has mostly blocked efforts to investigate misconduct within its ranks, according to the county inspector general, who announced his retirement Tuesday after 12 years on the job.

In an open letter, Max Huntsman cited examples of how the county has thwarted his efforts to watchdog the department, which in the past has been plagued with accusations that deputies use excessive force and lie on the job.

Huntsman said one example is former Sheriff Alex Villanueva’s misuse of criminal enforcement powers to discredit critics, such as opening an investigation into former County Supervisor Sheila Kuehl.

Villanueva was sheriff from 2018 to 2022.

“My requests for investigation were rejected,” Huntsman’s letter reads. “Even after receiving an official subpoena, the Sheriff’s Department has failed to turn over records regarding the improper surveillance.”

He added: “Sometimes members of the public wonder if frightening new surveillance techniques will be used for improper purposes under the guise of criminal investigation. Sadly, the answer is yes.”

Before becoming inspector general in 2013, Huntsman, 60, was a deputy district attorney who specialized in public corruption. He told LAist on Tuesday that the inspector general job wasn’t something he wanted initially.

“I didn’t want to go work for politicians,” he said. “But the need to provide some kind of independent reporting and analysis was significant.”

The Sheriff’s Department issued a statement saying it valued the Office of the Inspector General and all county oversight bodies and that it wished Huntsman and his family well in his retirement.

The department said it “continues to make great strides in advancing the department in a transparent manner.”

LAist also reached out to the county CEO and county counsel for comment, but they declined.

After George Floyd

In the letter, Huntsman says the state of California has come a long way in strengthening the power of local law enforcement oversight bodies, in part because of the 2020 murder of George Floyd by police in Minneapolis.

After widespread protests — and lobbying by Huntsman — the state provided authority to inspectors general to enforce subpoenas requiring law enforcement agencies to hand over documents and authorized external investigation of police misconduct, including deputy gang conduct.

The Sheriff’s Department — backed by county lawyers — has resisted.

“Los Angeles County may not follow those laws, but it will not be able to avoid them forever,” Huntsman wrote. “The county refuses to require the photographing of suspected gang tattoos in secretive groups that the undersheriff has identified as violating state law.”

“Just a few weeks ago, we requested some information regarding an investigation, and a pair of commanders refused to give it to us,” Huntsman said in an interview with LAist.

Origin of the office 

The Inspector General’s Office was created by the county Board of Supervisors in 2013 in response to a scandal that included former Sheriff Lee Baca covering up the abuses of jail inmates.

Baca went to federal prison.

Since then, the office has issued dozens of reports with recommendations for improving living conditions inside jails that some have described as “filthy,” stopping abuses of juveniles inside juvenile halls and providing shower privacy for inmates as part of the requirements under the Prison Rape Elimination Act.

“All of these abuses were reported by the Office of Inspector General and recommendations were ignored,” Huntsman wrote. Often, it took court orders to enact change.

“When we first blew the whistle on the torturous chaining of mentally ill prisoners to benches for 36 hours at a time, it was only a court order that ended the practice,” he wrote. “Time and time again, this pattern repeated itself.”

Huntsman wrote the county has permitted the Sheriff’s Department to block oversight and defunded the Office of Inspector General by removing a third of its staff.

“It's not surprising the county has driven out two successive chairs of the Sheriff Civilian Oversight Commission,” he wrote.

“Government always claims to value transparency and accountability, but shooting the messenger is still the most common response to criticism,” Huntsman wrote.

Despite setbacks, Huntsman values work 

Huntsman told LAist on Tuesday that he was proud of his career as a public servant.

“I’ve really enjoyed the work and I’m sad to have it end,” he said.

It’s a sentiment he echoed in his letter, adding that despite the setbacks and roadblocks, he was proud of the people with whom he shared the office.

“It has been my honor to work with a talented, brave and tireless group of public servants to ensure that the public knows what its government is doing,” he wrote.

He noted the inspector general’s reports are fact-checked by the office and public.

“When government abuses occur, they are sometimes kept secret, but that is no longer the case for much of what is happening in Los Angeles County,” Huntsman wrote. “What you do about it is up to you.,”

Huntsman’s last day is Friday.

Topline:

The backstory: Last month, the council's Transportation Committee voted to bring a proposal forward to implement a policy change that allows the city to impound and immediately destroy abandoned or inoperable RVs worth less than $4,000. The change is inspired by new state law AB 630, which was created to prevent previously impounded RVs from ending back up on the street.

The motion, authored by Councilmember Traci Park, reports that abandoned RVs pose as public and safety hazards.

What's next: Councilmember Nithya Raman requested that an implementation plan be presented to the council's public safety and housing and homelessness committees.

Go deeper: L.A. pushes policy to make it easier to remove RVs from city streets.