Fracking companies routinely plow plots of land in order to run pipelines through the countryside. Here a clearing in the mountains of Sullivan County, Pa Photo by Eric Zerkel

LYCOMING COUNTY, Pa -Tucked between sprawling green hills and meandering creeks, where the roads run narrow and dirty, Drake Saxton and Andrea Young take refuge.

For Saxton and Young, life in Moreland Township is a labor of love, 25-years of dedication to perfect their dream bed and breakfast, each log, each stone, each building hand built over-time; a place where they could retire to the unspoiled serenity of central Pennsylvania.

That is, until the methane gas from the nearby hydraulic fracturing well seeped into their drinking water, rendering it unusable, and threatened to end their business. Dangerous levels of the cancer causing gas radon followed, with levels jumping to over 23 picocuries per liter, more than 6 times the safe limit suggested by the Environmental Protection Agency.

“This took us 25 years to build, and it could all be gone,” said Saxton, 64 as he recounted the 14 years he and Andrea spent living in a rehashed chicken coop as they worked on their house. “Once the water is gone, my property is worthless, just like that,” he said.

Saxton and Young are just one example of many Pennsylvanians who have been dealing with the negative side effects of the boom of hydraulic fracturing or “fracking,” – a process for harvesting natural gas. Their experiences have left them politically dejected, and now they find themselves outcasts in the middle of a hot environmental debate that could boil over in the upcoming presidential election.

“We have told state legislators, we have lobbied their offices, but there is no use in telling them because they have already been told again and again,” Saxton said.

All along the Pennsylvania countryside pads are cut into the forested areas, breaking up the continuity of oaks and birches with the dull rumble of drills, compression pumps and other equipment necessary to tap the gas-rich Marcellus Shale formation below ground.

Drake Saxton indicates how contaminates get into his well water. Photo by Eric Zerkel

“We are in the sacrifice zone, said Ralph Kisberg, 56, a native of Lycoming County. “The rights of people are secondary to what the country wants to do.”

In many cases, access to these drill sites is proprietary, and the mineral rights are exclusive to the property owner. As a result, gas companies with names like Anadarko and XTO send “land men” to knock on the doors of the farmhouses and old Victorians that dot the landscape, offering exorbitant amounts of money for leased mineral rights to their land.

The minimum gas royalty in Pennsylvania is 12.5 percent of all the gas taken from the wellhead. Simply put, the more gas pumped out, the more money a landowner can collect, sometimes into the millions.

“It’s not unusual to see that,” Kisberg said, as he pointed out a sheen green tin roof atop a dilapidated old farmhouse, just feet away from a drill site. “People around here are poor, so when they get their check from leasing their land they run out and by new roofs, new trucks, things they never dreamed of affording.”

Kisberg is the president of Responsible Drilling Alliance, an organization that aims to educate Lycoming County residents on the potential consequences of shale gas drilling. Kisberg, like many others, leased his mineral rights to his property north of Williamsport.

“The land owners, they are all in on it, including myself,” said Kisberg. “They are all rubbing their hands together while they count their royalties.”

But John Trallo, 60, never wanted in. His home, located in the heart of Sonestown in nearby Sullivan County, was supposed to be a refuge from the environmental hazards that marred his past. The wife of his four children died at the age of 42, Trallo said, due to cancer directly related to exposure to the pesticide DDT, sprayed across the farms of his former residence just outside Philadelphia.

“I wanted to get away from the pollution,” said Trallo. “Sullivan County is called ‘the gem of the endless mountains’ for a reason; it’s supposed to be dedicated to preserving that beauty, that peace and quiet.”

Now the land Trallo sought refuge in, has turned against him.

“When you turn on your faucet and what comes out looks like chocolate and smells like diesel fuel, it’s easy to see something’s not right,” said Trallo.

Trallo said he hasn’t had potable water in over 15 months. He said his water source had been contaminated by leaking gas from a fracking well atop North Mountain, just a half mile behind his house. Tests on his water showed shocking results, traces of methane, barium, strontium and arsenic were flowing out of his tap.

“Fracking companies have done more than just change the land, Trallo said. “They have completely transformed it.”

Trallo’s home sits well outside the 2,500-foot zone of “presumed liability” that forces gas companies to assume responsibility for any negative effects of tapping the wells, which he said has left him with few political options.

“I don’t think there is a political solution,” said Trallo. “As long as they (politicians) don’t have to stand in someone’s kitchen and watch as someone lights brown liquid coming out of a faucet on fire, they can deny it.”

Trallo said he had exhausted the same options as Saxton, and was so frustrated with the political climate that he planned on throwing his hat into the political arena, writing himself in as a representative of the 110th District of Pennsylvania.

“I don’t care if I win or lose the election,” said Trallo. “If I can just get people to understand the effects of this industry, that’s all I want.”

On the back deck of his bed and breakfast Drake Saxton stood, staring out over the shallow banks of Little Muncy Creek.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” he said with a somber smile.

View from the hill overlooking Drake and Andrea Saxton's Bed and Breakfast. Mr. Sexton said he recently learned that a gas company plans to drill atop the hill, potentially threatening his drinking water. Photo by Eric Zerkel

For the first time the Pennsylvania wilderness offered no refuge.

“No matter who we vote for we run the risk of losing all of this,” said Saxton. “When does it end, and who helps us? No one.”

At P.S. 41 in the West Village, the kitchen is already turning out lunches almost completely in line with new federal regulations. The new rules went into effect last month and require fewer processed foods and more healthy ingredients. This pizza bagel is made with freshly-cooked sauce and olive oil instead of blended oils. Photo by Edna Ishayik

Judging by the joyous grade school cafeteria clamor, Pizza Fridays are the favorite menu line up of the students at Public School 41 in the West Village. On a recent Friday, the kindergarteners through fifth-graders bit happily into their gooey, cheesy, saucy lunches.

Warmed over toaster-oven pizza, this is not. Here, the mozzarella is fresh, the sauce is cooked in the morning, and the bread (bagels, in this case) are whole wheat. In fact, nothing that comes out of the school’s kitchen is processed. Everything is made from scratch.

That was the case even before new federal regulations that will upgrade the quality of the food school kids eat at lunchtime went into effect last month. Across the nation, cafeterias now will be forced to provide a healthier meal for their young customers. Schools will be switching from tater tots to sweet potato fries, ditching hot dogs for kidney beans, offering more vegetables and removing many processed foods.

But in New York City, meals mostly meet, and in some cases exceed, the standards now required by federal law.

“The City has been ahead of the curve when it comes to offering more nutritious meals to students,” said Marge Feinberg, a Department of Education representative. “With the new USDA guidelines, there are some factors we need to review, including costs associated with the new policy, but we support the push towards healthier, more nutritious food choices for students.”

She said restrictions on the amount of trans fats children are served have already been met, as have the low sodium standards. There will be some adjustments necessary to catch up with the grain-rich requirements and weekly saturated fat count, but Feinberg categorizes these as nearly complete.

In the kitchen at P.S. 41, the food served goes far beyond what the city or the new federal regulation asks. For example, though the new standards require only that blended oils be substituted for oils that contain trans fats, P.S. 41 goes further, using olive oil in many cases. It’s a healthier and better tasting alternative that costs considerably more.

P.S. 41 can afford the splurge partially because it’s a wealthier school in a neighborhood where the apartments can cost tens of millions of dollars. But the bonus actually comes from a donation through a partnership with a non-profit called Wellness in the Schools. WITS places a trained chef in the kitchens to push nutrition and healthy eating to it’s potential.

“We take what they used to do, and enhance it,” says Shani Porter, the WITS resident in P.S. 41’s kitchen.

One of the group’s sponsors, high-end supermarket chain Whole Foods, gifted olive oil to the 30 schools enrolled in the program. And that olive oil was another ingredient Porter used to upgrade Pizza Friday.

Last year, Porter was stationed at a school in East New York. Though the poverty level is higher in that neighborhood, the quality of what was served for lunch was essentially the same as what her new West Village students were served.

“There’s no difference,” she said. “All the schools go from a procurement list. They all get a budget depending on how many kids the school serves. Everything is the same.”

And the procurement list already meets the new federal standards.

But the delivery of a healthy lunch in East New York carries an important weight. Porter said that meal was often the only real meal many of kids got all day, so if it wasn’t nutritious, the kids were at a severe disadvantage.

Porter said the healthy food has been well received. The staff must keep an eye on the lettuce levels in the small salad bar set up near the kitchen because the kids come back for seconds.

“They choose from mixed salad, different vegetables — tomatoes, cucumbers, celery, chickpeas — and we make our own salad dressing as well,” Porter said.

Sometimes when a new food is added, like freshly-made vegetarian chili, some of the younger kids balk.

“They see anything green or anything brown and they say, ‘I want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,’” Porter said.

But she counsels patience when it comes to testing young palates.

“Once they start to learn, then you don’t see that,” she said. “It takes a few times for the child to really like the food. You have to, not push it on them, but expose them to it. Teach them about it. Let them try it a few times.”

And when all else fails, sometimes Porter will allow for sandwich for a particularly picky eater. But even the jelly is healthy: Porter cooks down dried fruit and makes compote to spread between slices of whole wheat.

Since New York City schools are so close to complying with federal rules, even those without Porter stewing dried fruits and dicing tomatoes are eating healthier meals than their out-of-city counterparts.

Taha Siddiqui, 28, features writer for The Express Tribune, Pakistan, writes mostly on human rights issues.

In 2002, Mukhtara Mai, a Pakistani woman from the village of Meerwala, was gang raped on the orders of a village council. The rape was ordered as punishment because her younger brother was said to have committed adultery with a woman from a higher-caste tribe.

Pedro Pizano, the Global Media Liaison for the Oslo Freedom Forum, said that as soon as he posted an article about Mai on his Facebook page, he was flooded with responses from all over the globe. He said by sharing posts online, women experiencing similar traumas can better identify with cases like that of Mai.

“Posting on the social media definitely drove a lot of traffic,” said Pizano.

Social media is increasingly being used as a tool in highlighting issues of women from the developing world. Through the use of photos, videos and blogs on Tumblr, Pinterest, Facebook,Twitter and other social media sites, organizations and activists are engaging faster with readers and internet surfers.

“We have Twitter accounts in Spanish and English and use these to spread news,” Pizano said. “But those 140 characters have to be backed by a link such as an article, a photo or a survey or they don’t add any value to news.”

Audio_for_class.mp3

Pedro Pizano talks discusses the power of social media

According to a Reporters Without Borders annual index of the countries where freedom of expression does not exist – such as Saudi Arabia, Tunisia, Pakistan and Iran – social media plays a central role by highlighting issues the mainstream media does not.

“In developing countries like Egypt and Syria, where there’s a lot of repression, it’s a powerful tool for people to reach out,” said Pizano.

A photo of ‘The Girl in the Blue Bra,’ a female protester beaten by Egyptian police during clashes in Cairo’s Tahrir Square last December, is on Pinterest, an online pinboard, where people organize and share photos of interest to them.

“When people see a powerful picture such as the girl in Egypt, it resonates with them,” said Nina Mandell, a reporter for the New York Daily News, who also covers social media. “We find out about a lot of stories in the developing world through Facebook.”

Mandell said she and her colleagues find Twitter to be the best way to find photos.

Taha Siddiqui, a features writer for the Express Tribune who covers human rights issues in Pakistan, said that at times he finds serious international issues only on tweets.

“Lots of times there are killings or violence in places like FATA (Federally Administered Tribal Areas), where journalists are seen tweeting about news while it never makes it to mainstream media,” Siddiqui said. “Even if it is reported through unverified sources, it makes one feel there is more to it than what is being shown.”

Twitter and Facebook are increasingly being used to engage people and generate debates on issues of social relevance. Many NGOs now tweet about social events, fundraising and emergency situations.

“The increasing popularity of Twitter and Facebook has made people contact us from the third world,” said Caroline Berger, a website and social media administrator for Equality Now, a non-profit organization that addresses discrimination against women around the world. “Even if they don’t have Facebook for assistance, they send us an email and we use our social media platforms to bring attention to issues of discrimination and women’s rights.”

Dave Cutolo used a plastic red horn to inspire fans at the Giants Super Bowl parade to cheer. Photo by Chris Palmer.

Thousands of Giants’ fans traveled from all over the New York metro region to attend today’s Super Bowl victory parade in Lower Manhattan, but one boisterous group of supporters on Cortlandt Street only had to walk a few blocks to catch the action.

“We do whatever we want, we’re stock brokers!” said Dave Cutolo, 44, oozing with bravado.

Cutolo, of Murray Hill, was standing with a group of work associates who all worked “down the street,” he said, without identifying the company they worked for. Wearing a black coat over his brown suit and patterned yellow tie, he held a plastic red horn that he bought from a street vendor in one hand, a coffee cup half-filled with beer in the other.

Cutolo and pals all wore suits and overcoats, standing out in a sea of people clad in Giants’ blue. But their attire didn’t prevent them from mixing in with the crowd: they hooted, hollered, laughed and screamed at passerby, passing the horn around and joining in the various “Let’s Go Giants!” chants that arose out of the massive crowd bordering Broadway.

Elvin Lopez, left, and Ron McClintock are stock brokers who were enjoying themselves at the Giants' Super Bowl parade. Photo by Chris Palmer

Ron McClintock, 32, a member of this stock-broking entourage, brushed off the idea that they were sacrificing time at work for a day of partying, saying that they could easily enjoy themselves while being productive.

“We’ll go back and forth,” he said, confidence dripping out of his pores. “We’ll go back (to the office), make some calls, make some money, and then come back.”

And the celebration would last all night, he said.

“See all these women?” he said, motioning to the enormous crowd. “I’m going to be like a fish net, scooping up everything.”

McClintock and Elvin Lopez, 31, were eager to express their love of this season’s Giants’ team, and Lopez said the way the team fought through the playoffs was representative of the city’s attitude.

“It’s such a New York story,” he said. “Everyone’s walking a little taller today, a little prouder.”

“It’s the greatest thing,” McClintock said. “No one stops (the Patriots) but New York.”

But Cutolo, despite being a Giants fan, wasn’t totally thrilled with the game’s outcome.

“I had money on the game,” he said, explaining that he needed the final score to end with the numbers five and three in order to take home the cash.

He wasn’t letting his lost wager depress him too much, though: while he and his friends attempted to whip the surrounding crowd into a frenzy, he cast an optimistic lens on the rest of his afternoon.

“I’ve got to go inside and make $2,000,” he said with a smile. “Then we can go back (here) and have fun.”

The Bucket Man Richard Sedotto sold hundreds of buckets Tuesday to Giants fans looking to get above the crowds at the Super Bowl Champion's ticker tape parade. Photo by Jamie Larson

While the New York Giants paraded up the Canyon of Heroes in Lower Manhattan this morning, Richard Sedotto was making money in buckets, with a business model so simple, passing Wall Streeters were praising his brilliance.

One look down the block and it was easy to see why. Almost everyone waiting for the parade at Broadway and Exchange Street were standing on a bright orange Home Depot bucket in an attempt to get a better view of the event, buckets Sedotto sold for $10 a pop.

In four hours of work, Sedotto and two friends sold nearly all of their 800 buckets.

“I’m sending my kids to college after this,” he sang to passers-by who scoffed at his price, then shouting. “I got the market cornered! 100 people have called me a genius. One more and I’ll believe them.”

A contractor from Long Island, Sedotto said he stands on buckets everyday in replace of a step stool. At the Yankee’s victory parade in 2007 Sedotto and friends brought a few just for themselves. After a number of fellow spectators offered to buy the pails from under their feet they realized they were standing on a goldmine.

They first sold buckets in New Orleans after the Saint’s Super Bowl win two years ago. Tuesday New York turned out to be much more profitable. Since, Sedotto has made selling buckets a loss-proof business.

“Say you only sell 400 buckets, then you just return the ones you didn’t sell,” he said. “You buy them on credit and you never spend any money.”

Another big part of Sedotto’s business model was heckling bystanders. His commodity was so hot, it seemed he could say anything.

“Hey, you’re short. You need a bucket,” he shouted.

The bucket man may now be popping up at more parades in more towns, from Philly to Boston to Chicago.

Steven Gorilik was supposed to be at work at the Colonial Insurance office on the other side of the street, but he couldn’t get across. He was so taken with Sedotto’s business he jumped on a bucket and helped with sales.

“This is the best business idea,” he said. “I’m going to be down on the next block at the next (parade).”

Sedotto said he’s not worried about competition because he had made so much money on just one block, pulling a thick wad of uncounted bills out of his coat pocket.

By the end of the parade there were discarded buckets everywhere, but Sedotto wasn’t interested in picking them up for resale; in fact he was gone well before the last float.

“It was well worth the $10,” said Frank Esposito, from State Island, who stood on a bucket with his girlfriend, Danielle Ballestero, on his shoulders. “I’m stealing his idea.”

But when the parade ended Esposito was left holding a bucket.

“Now what am I going to do with this $10 bucket?” Esposito wondered before turning around and shouting “$9 bucket.”

Arabic on business awnings and windows are a regular sight on the two-block stretch of Steinway Street, home to many halal meat shops, hookah bars, doctor's offices, traditional Arab clothing shops and more. Photo by Joann Pan

Smoke whirled up from a corner cart, as fresh halal meat was pressed down against hot grates, melding with the sweet aroma of fruit tobacco coming out the open-air hookah bars lining Steinway Street near Astoria Boulevard in Astoria, Queens. Arabic covered business awnings and windows of the ethnic clothing shops, mosque and eateries. This neighborhood is casually known as Little Egypt. Locals know this is where to find the best Middle Eastern food in town.

But these are the same restaurants, cafes, hookah bars and shops the police sought out clues after the 9/11 attacks and continue to be monitored by the NYPD in search of terrorists, according to residents and an investigative report by the Associated Press. They say plainclothes police officers listen to their conversations in cafes, look over community center message boards, and take photos of these businesses.

In multiple press accounts Police Commissioner Ray Kelly has denied allegations of the alleged spy unit, but Muslim advocacy leaders have had enough and are now taking a stand against racial and religious profiling.

“The proof is there, we don’t need to prove anything,” said Linda Sarsour, director of the Arab Americans Association of New York (AAANY) said . “I think that the NYPD is so counterproductive to what they are trying to do because what they are trying to do supposedly is to keep us safe.”

Police would not return requests for comment on this story.

For Sarsour, the targeting of ethnic neighborhoods is a very real intrusion into the lives of Muslim Americans. She said Muslim residents are too paranoid to come out of their homes on a regular basis and take advantage of the social services the AAANY provides.

“People don’t feel free to talk about things anymore,” Sarsour said about Arab Americans, who she said are generally very politically opinionated but now hold back for fear of being thought a terrorist. “People don’t want to share their views. It is creating strife between groups.”

But Fadi Darwich, 26, from Jersey City, N.J., whose family operates a new Lebanese eatery in Astoria, does not feel intimidated by extra surveillance on the Muslim community.

“I don’t think it will affect the business,” Darwich said, of his customers that about half come from the local Muslim community and those who just come solely for the food. “They are targeting the area because there are Muslims. There should be privacy. But I am with the police if they can find something wrong.”

Jessica Zoppolo, 23, an Astoria resident who frequents this area to dine believes that nationality-specific investigations can be harmful to the neighborhood.

“It’s wrong to assume all the businesses on Steinway Street have some relation to terrorism,” she said. “It’s unfortunate when these investigations cause businesses to shut down… for fear of being blamed for something they are not a part of.”

A rally in Foley Square was the first grassroots action of this movement moving forward.

“There was a lot of fear, a lot of controversy,” Sarsour said. “People knew their pictures were going to be taken, they were doing to be in the media, potentially, NYPD looks at those videos and who they are already following.”

This is a step that Muslim New Yorkers must take in their fight to stop racial and religiously profiling, Sarsour said.

Leaders of this movement are currently looking at its legal options as well as initiating education workshops at college campuses, organizing future community action and getting people to talk about these issues through social media.

“One of the things that was missing in the past was we weren’t really, our entire community wasn’t necessarily involved,” Sarsour said. “We want people on social media to talk about it. In hopes, there will be online and petitions circulating.”

The next step for the coalition is to ask the NYPD to set up an oversight commission—an organization completely independent from the police department that can provide objective insight to what is going on and to prevent further damage.

The coalition against the racial and religious targeting of Muslims also wants to amend the training of police officers and the removal of anti-Islamic materials and “entire curriculums based on hate [conveying] Islam as a religion based on violence,” said Sarsour.

On December 11, members of Immigrant Worker Justice, a working group of Occupy Wall Street, hosted a "teach-in," in order to relate the message of Occupy Wall Street to immigrant communities. Photo by Eric Zerkel

Packed into a conference room in a lower Manhattan office building, members of Occupy Wall Street’s Immigrant Worker Justice Group (IWJ) got to work, trying to set the agenda for how they would tackle a hot button issue that Republicans and Democrats both struggle to answer.

“It’s all about equal rights,” said Donald Anthonyson, 52, of Harlem, a member of IWJ. “When you’re talking about immigrant worker justice, you can’t get justice unless there is some equality. Immigrant Worker Justice is a vehicle to get equal rights.”

Donald Anthonyson, talks about immigrant workers justice with another group member. Photo by Eric Zerkel

“A big issue for me is not having meetings in immigrant communities,” said Mark Kushneir, 26, of Prospect Park Brooklyn who helped form IWJ. “I think getting people who are working 6 and 7 days a week, 14 hours a day to come to these meetings, it’s impossible for them to come.”

The IWJ working group is just one of 118 listed working groups behind Occupy Wall Street. It is comprised of a loose coalition of 20 or so New York City based immigrant and labor rights organizations and offers a chance for Occupy Wall Street to shake its demons and accomplish a specific goal.

With no direct immigrant involvement to drive the direction of the group, meeting topics typically steer towards the specific campaigns of the organizations involved – a prison divestment campaign, a boycott on Domino’s pizza, even solicitations to buy tickets for one organization’s fundraiser. With members throwing around the acronyms of the dozens of immigration and labor rights groups in casual conversation, and “twinkling” – moving fingers up and down, in silent agreement– in a measure of “solidarity” with each other, simply communicating in an IWJ meeting is overwhelming to any newcomer.

“Part of the flaws of this whole thing are that if you’re not part of an organization, NGO, or a solid group of people, it’s difficult to participate,” said Kushneir.

Some group members held out hope that two events, a December 11 teach-in and a planned December 18 march from Foley Square to Zuccotti Park, would shift the focus back onto individual immigrant communities.

But Sunday’s teach-in was little more than a staged coalition networking session. There was little discussion of IWJ, or how it could expand into the immigrant communities so underrepresented within. Instead, 10 immigrant and labor rights organizations took to the podium for eight presentations that stretched nearly four hours; IWJ was “teaching” to the choir.

“Organizations are so incredibly focused on what they are doing that they miss a lot of people and miss ways to bridge gaps between communities where there isn’t necessarily a connection,” said Kusneir.

But some members still believe that IWJ can reach out to individual immigrant communities and fight specific cases, such as deportation.

“The Occupy movement is full of thousands of people who are looking for a fight,” said Danny Katch, 36, of Jackson Heights, Queens. “And there is sort of this rare moment, when you have a lot of people saying, I don’t like how this thing usually works, I want to fight that. “

Katch is a self-proclaimed activist and frequent IWJ attendee, who spends his spare time writing articles for the International Socialist Organization. Katch’s first foray into IWJ actually came on behalf of an immigrant facing deportation, Ahmed Hossain.

When Hossain entered the United States from his native Bangladesh, his lawyer at the time mistakenly filed his application for political asylum under a different name, leading an immigration judge to dismiss his case on grounds of fraud and setting the stage for his potential deportation.

Hossain, of Woodhaven, Queens, has been in the United States for 18 years, embedding himself in the Queens Bangladeshi community, earning his way as a taxicab driver, and eventually building a family. In spite of all of this, Hossain faced a November 8 deportation hearing, with the possibility of leaving behind all that he had built in his nearly two decades in New York City.

As a part of Hossain’s campaign, Katch looked for ways to extend Hossain’s case outside of the Jackson Heights Queens Bangladeshi community, where Katch said Hossain’s case already had gained tremendous support.

“I do think there is a big gap between the Bangladeshi community, where there is a lot of knowledge and support, and the rest of the public, where there is kind of nothing,” Katch said.

He racked his mind for ways to bridge that gap in order to garner a wider array of public support, which he hoped would pressure Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, to suspend Hossain’s case.

“Ahmed was going to be facing deportation at 26 Federal Plaza which is only 10 blocks north of Zuccotti Park, said Katch. “So I had it in my head, how do we get Occupy Wall Street involved in this case?”

Through the International Socialist Organization, Katch was put into contact with the IWJ, and after acquiring a spot on the group’s agenda, Katch brought Hossain before the working group to plead his case.

Members sprang into action, planning a march on Hossain’s hearing date, offering guidance, legal aide, and most importantly using their immigrant and labor rights’ organizations’ contacts to lobby politicians on his behalf.

But before the group could march and protest in true Occupy Wall Street fashion, ICE issued a one-year deferral of Hossain’s case. And, despite all of IWJ’s involvement in Hossain’s case, Katch remained skeptical of the group’s affect.

“We’ll never know, because ICE doesn’t tell you why they make the decisions they do, but my opinion is that Immigrant Worker Justice and Occupy Wall Street didn’t have that big of an impact, said Katch. “I have a feeling that, the fact that a bunch of politicians, including Senator [Kirsten] Gillibrand, signed on in support probably had the bigger impact.”

Katch said that he usually doesn’t believe lobbying politicians offers a more effective outlet than protestation, and saw a new potential in Occupy Wall Street and Immigrant Worker Justice.

“What’s more important is that it [Ahmed’s case] kind of showed a direction that the Occupy movement could go in,” he said. ”Maybe the Occupy movement could fight deportation, and fight cases that highlight immigrants.”

But in order for that potential to take hold, IWJ will have to take further steps to include direct immigrant involvement, a value that Tsedeye Gebreselassie, 32, of Park Slope, Brooklyn sees great value in.

“Trying to fight through the xenophobia and anti-immigrant hysteria to try to get your message across is really tough,” said Gebreselassie. “And one of the best ways to do it is to have immigrant workers themselves get to the forefront of these campaigns.”

Kushneir echoed Gebreselassie’s sentiments, saying that the movement would have to start with organizations, but that the goal is to move away from that emphasis and into immigrant communities.

“They [organizations] are going to be focused specifically on doing it one way,” said Kushneir. “Whereas if we approach immigrants independently, the potential I think, is really endless.”

Undocumented students from NYSYLC participate in DREAM Graduation Ceremony in Washington, DC. Photo by Juan David Gastolomendo

Guadalupe Gracida crossed the border from Mexico into Arizona on foot. From there, she and her parents drove to New York, spending over two days in an uncomfortably crowded van, crushed in with almost 40 others.

It was a dangerous month-long journey—the family was robbed, and at one point had to hide in a safe house for over two weeks. Gracida was 14.

With hopes of a better life, her family settled in Elmhurst, Queens where she entered school and laid down an impressive track record earning A’s and B’s in her classes.

But when senior year came, the reward of higher education was not around the corner. Though she was accepted to Queensborough Community College, she could not attend. It wasn’t a valid social security number that blocked her from starting school, nor trouble with Immigration Services. Instead, she would not be entering college because her family could not afford the annual $3,600 tuition.

Gracida was partially prepared for the disappointment. “I knew it was going to be hard for me,” she said.

Her story of struggling to fulfill the dream of graduating from college is only one of many. There are approximately 345,000 undocumented students across New York. Some may never hope to sit in a university classroom, but for those that do, tuition is a main barrier.

Recent political moves however, could make it easier for Gracida and others like her to find the funds to realize their higher education ambitions.

The New York State Board of Regents voted on a resolution on November 14th “to support the extension of the state’s Tuition Assistance Program (TAP) to all students, regardless of immigration status,” according to the organization’s website. The decision will set off a process that could result in a new law for the Empire State. It would open taxpayer funds to undocumented students seeking higher education—a group previously barred from eligibility.

If passed, New York would join only two other states in making state aid available to immigrants living in America illegally.

Under the proposed plan, approved applicants could be awarded up to $5,000 per person per year to offset the cost of college—an amount that for many undocumented young adults could make the difference between dreams realized or repealed.

For Gracida, one of the approximately 10,000 undocumented youth who would now qualify for funds to put towards TAP-approved universities, those dreams meant majoring in psychology and taking a minor in history. She hopes to work with kids and teens in schools, to counsel them through what she sees as a troubled time in their lives.

But without the cash to pay for tuition, and college deferred till at least next year, Gracida is going down a path well-worn by undocumented youngsters—looking for low-earning jobs after high school graduation despite the potential for more.

“I’m looking for anything that comes. In this recession, nobody has jobs and with my status, I have no social security number, it is harder for me to find a good job,” she said.

Though it will be difficult to save enough money for tuition while earning low wages, Gracida is undeterred. “I believe at the end, the most important thing is my education. I am going to take the time and the resources. No matter what, I’m going to graduate one day,” she said.

Though students in New York do have a leg up over the college-bound in other states, for undocumented youth like Gracida, tuition remains out of reach. Albany allows illegal immigrants to pay in-state tuition making it significantly more affordable. Queensborough costs a New York resident $3,600 for two full semesters of up to 18 credits. An out-of-stater would pay $5,670 for two semesters of 12 credits each.

But even $3,600 a year is unmanageable when earning under $20,000, the average annual income for Mexican Immigrants according to the Center for Immigration Studies, a conservative, anti-immigration group.

The Education Equity for DREAMers Act, if passed through the New York State legislature, could help Gracida, and students like her, to close the gap and pay for school.

But there is a long legislative road ahead before the plan goes into effect. The resolution for a proposed bill, was passed by the Board of Regents, but the law must now be drafted by that body.

According to Natalia Aristizabal, the Youth Organizer with the immigration group, Make the Road New York, the proposed bill must then be sponsored by state leaders in both the Senate and Assembly and brought to floor of each house.

Aristizabal has been following the proposal closely and says that if everything goes smoothly, it will be introduced in Albany early in the next legislative session—perhaps as soon as January. She says it’s even possible that the bill could be voted on before February.

But opposition for the measure may rear its head. “This is a tough time for a bill like this. There’s not even enough money right now to offset tuition costs for legal, documented New Yorkers,” Republican State Senator Martin Golden said to the New York Daily News.

A version of the bill was voted down by the state legislature last March. But that potential law included big ticket, controversial elements like state drivers’ licenses and access to health care. The new iteration focuses exclusively on financial aid.

Unlike the federal bill that has languished on the Hill since 2001, the state-level law would not seek to blaze a path to citizenship for students, only help them along as they attempt to make the best of living in America without legal documentation.

This is a significant flaw of the measure according to anti-immigration advocates.

“If you say that we should legalize folks, then of course we should offer them the same public services we offer others, but the question here is, how do you justify scholarships to people who are not supposed to be here?” said Steven Camarota, Director of Research at the Center for Immigration Studies based in Washington, D.C..

Camarota said there is an inherent contradiction in the argument that government should help build an educated workforce when the people seeking aid are explicitly barred from holding a job in the United States. He questions the idea that undocumented students graduating from college will even be able to find better-paying work.

“It’s harder to get a job as an accountant or school teacher, a college educated job. There, they tend to check documents,” said Camarota. “It’s much easier to be a hotel maid.”

And, he said, there are opportunity costs. “If you spend money on illegal aliens that’s money you can’t spend on other things.”

Camarota said this could mean sacrificing anything from fixed pot holes to school aid for legal immigrants and native Americans.

He would call someone like Gracida a “compelling anecdote,” someone with a sympathetic story that focuses policymakers on the benefits of this kind of immigration policy.

But for Gracida, who feels like she grew up in America, who came of age in Elmhurst, this policy is not just about her.

“I am another young person who wants to succeed, not just for my family but also for my community,” she said. “There are a lot more DREAMers that they are already graduated, that they are working in many low paid jobs. And they are wasting their potential.”

Lavish signs in all hues of orange, blue, and green adorn Main Street in Flushing, Queens, showcasing homeland favorites like flaky, pan-fried scallion pancakes and luscious pearl milk tea to Chinese movies and books galore. Most of these signs catch the eye not for their colors or designs, but because majority of them are in Chinese.

“It really makes me feel like I’m actually there – in China,” said Rouen, France native Agnes Rousseau, 37, who was visiting New York with her husband and two young daughters. “But it’s extremely overwhelming and a bit intimidating how nearly every sign is structured in the same way with barely any English translations.”

Last August, Councilman Peter Koo urged inspectors with the New York City Department of Consumer Affairs to enforce a state law passed in 1993 that would require Flushing businesses to have at least 60 percent of their signs in English or face a fine if they did not comply. The law was originally enacted during the Depression to safeguard shoppers from scams in underground stores.

“Ultimately, these bills will help local businesses expand their customer base, increase revenues and be more consumer friendly,” said Koo in a press release. “Additionally, our police, firemen and emergency responders will be able to easily locate an establishment and ascertain what type of business they will encounter when they arrive.”

Koo’s chief of staff, James McLelland, said the bill is still being discussed in general counsel.

The proposition has divided much of the Asian population. Some dissenters believe English signs would not only “alienate” Chinese customers, especially those who do not speak English and rely on the signs for guidance, but also force immigrants to assimilate to American customs. On the other hand, supporters of the law feel that implementing English is something necessary that would not only generate more revenue by attracting consumers of more diverse backgrounds, but also seems proper to incorporate the dialect that U.S. citizens are required to know.

Flushing resident Yu Zhou, 52, does not want the signs to change. They help her feel connected to her native language and culture.

“My language and culture is all I have here to remind me of what I left behind,” she said . “I feel like I would be giving up a part of me if all the signs were to change.”

Zhou, who came to New York with her daughter and son from Shanghai nearly 20 years ago, said she felt the law “may have good intentions,” but being immersed into “so much English” in a city supposedly renowned for its diversity is upsetting.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, Asian Americans constitute about 12 percent of New York City’s population, with those of Chinese origin making up nearly half that number.

Maylei Zhou, 24, Yu’s daughter, has been frequenting Main Street’s Tai Pan Bakery for her daily morning roast pork bun and hot milk tea before her commute to Hunter College, where she is studying nursing. She said the bakery, which caters to a mostly Chinese community, makes her relive the few memories she has left of her childhood back in Shanghai.

Maylei Zhou (center), a Shanghai native who has been living in Flushing for the past 20 years, shops for fruits outside the Ou Jiang Supermarket on the corner of Main Street and 40th Road in Flushing, Queens on Saturday. Photo by Alexa Mae Asperin

“It’s like my little piece of China,” she said. “It gives me a sense of connection to the things we left back home. But for others, the menu, the language, it may seem a bit overwhelming.”

Zhou referenced the predominantly Chinese-language menu at Tai Pan Bakery, where she pointed out the minute English descriptions under the large Chinese lettering of menu items, adding that for those unfamiliar with the Chinese language, deciphering the menu could very much be a daunting endeavor.

A few blocks down south at the Maxin Bakery, which also has a menu much akin to the one in Tai Pan, Mai Ling Chen, 45, said most of the regular customers were of Chinese descent and that tourists rarely frequented the eatery. She said the law, if enforced, would not welcome new customers, but rather discourage some of their current patrons.

“When most people think of Chinatown, they go to Manhattan, not Flushing,” said Chen, of Bayside, Queens. “Most of the people that come in here are Chinese and other Asian customers buying groceries or baked goods on a daily basis, not as a one-time visit.”

The New York City Department of City Planning’s 2000 Census states there are over 122,000 foreign-born residents in Queens Community District 7, which includes cities such as Flushing, College Point, and Bay Terrace. Of that figure, about 32,000 people are from China. Additionally, nearly 35 percent of that population does not speak English; Chinese is the main language spoken in 27,031 homes.

Gary Luo, 55, owner of a small electronics store nearby, agreed with Chen, noting that most of his customers are fellow Chinese consumers, many from his hometown of Beijing. Luo said most of the people that visit his store come in because “they feel comfortable asking questions about technical things with someone they know will not judge or criticize them if their language is a little off.”

Luo, who came to Flushing 22 years ago with his daughter and son, said he struggled learning English but knew it was necessary for him to start his business. He added that he felt it was important for him to know English so he could teach his children.

“It was scary at first when we first came to America, learning something new, but it’s part of being an American,” Luo said. “I feel as a Chinese-American that you need to embrace the English language but remember your roots also. You don’t need to give it all up.”

However, he added that the law does not take into consideration differences between the Chinese and English languages.

“That up there in Chinese means Red House,” Luo said as he pointed to a fluorescent orange sign surrounded by other multicolored placards. “But that’s actually a real estate office.”

Lin Chun, 31, of Flushing, left Changsha, China for New York five years ago to pursue a law degree. She has come to Maxin Bakery every morning for her usual coffee and egg tart, which she said instantly “teleports me to the corner bakery in Changsha.” She felt it was a “shame” that the battle for English signs in Flushing was garnering opposition because “equality is something that should be present everywhere.”

“I am proud of my heritage, my culture, my language,” Chun said. “You see all of that here, but I’m not only Chinese. I’m Chinese-American. And that means the English language is a part of me now, too. It’s only fitting that everyone should get the best of both worlds.”