SAN FRANCISCO—A drowsy Daishi Miguel Tanaka tried desperately to ignore the constant noises emanating from his phone on the morning of June 18.

Finally, after one too many notification sounds, he checked the messages. And any grogginess he had quickly disappeared.

“Did you see the news?” one of them asked. “Congrats!” read another.

They were referring to the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to block the Trump administration’s attempt to terminate Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), a program that protects eligible, undocumented immigrants who were brought to the country as children from deportation.

It was a huge win for 650,000 young people, including Tanaka, who is 23.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Tanaka told himself: “It’s OK now. I can stay here. I can still pursue my dream.”

Born in Japan, Tanaka was brought to the United States by his parents when he was a child and now lives in San Francisco.

Looking through a window facing the Pacific Ocean, he knows his “home” is 8,000 kilometers away in a place he has been unable to return to for 17 years.

‘ILLEGAL’ BUT FEELING ‘ACCEPTED’

Throughout his life, Tanaka has asked himself the same question: “Who am I?”

He was born in Fuji, Shizuoka Prefecture, in 1997 to a Japanese father, Tsuneo, and a Filipino mother, Ruth Joy.

Tsuneo, now 65, worked as a carpenter while Ruth Joy, now 47, was a factory worker.

Tanaka was mercilessly bullied at his nursery school. His dark-toned skin and body shape became targets of ridicule. Children called him “gaijin” (foreigner) and “debu” (fatty).

Desperate to change the environment for their oldest son, Tsuneo and Ruth Joy in 2004 decided to move to California where her relatives lived.

Tanaka was 6 years old at the time. But he still vividly remembers what he saw on the first day at an elementary school there.

Every student looked different and each had a different background.

Tanaka welcomed this fresh fact of life in the United States.

“Under an American flag, they respected each other and accepted differences. That’s how I felt back then,” he said.

Tanaka fell in love with the new environment and soon began begging his parents, “I don’t want to go back to Japan.”

His parents had entered the United States on short-term visas. They paid a hefty fee to an immigration lawyer to apply for permanent residence for their son, but the application did not go as planned.

The family members became “undocumented” immigrants.

Currently, an estimated 11 million undocumented immigrants are living and working in the United States. Many of them have no choice but to take low-paying jobs and endure horrible working conditions.

Tanaka’s parents moved from job to job, often as day laborers, as well as from residence to residence.

Renting a place was never easy for the parents, and Tanaka said the family relocated more than 10 times.

Despite the job insecurity and the day-to-day struggles, returning to Japan was never raised as an option for the family.

The parents wanted to “take a chance” on Tanaka, who was already dreaming big in the United States.

Their mutual goal was to send Tanaka to Harvard University.

IVY LEAGUE SUPERHERO

Tanaka’s Ivy League dream can be traced back to a childhood conversation with his father while they were in Japan.

One day, Tanaka told Tsuneo, “I want to become Kamen Rider,” the popular TV superhero character.

Tsuneo gave a twisted but memorable response: “You can be a superhero if you go to Harvard and become a lawyer.”

Harvard was the only overseas university that Tsuneo knew by name.

But from that day on, “Harvard” became the ultimate magical word for Tanaka.

He attended public schools in disadvantaged areas in California. Ninety percent of his fellow students were eligible for free or reduced-price school lunches, he recalled.

But that never deterred Tanaka in his pursuit to attend one of the world’s most elite academic institutions.

Tsuneo, meanwhile, worked every day except Sundays.

Tanaka fondly remembers the family’s “special Sunday brunch” tradition of his father cooking a Japanese-style breakfast: a big serving of white rice, miso soup, sunny-side up eggs and grilled fish.

“The food is ready!” Tsuneo used to say.

Out of appreciation for his parents’ support, Tanaka studied hard.

In 2015, he received an acceptance letter from Harvard University.

“My American dream literally came true that day,” he said.

LAW’S PARDON AND PUNISHMENT

Tanaka had also received life-changing news the year earlier.

The Obama administration in June 2012 announced it would not deport certain undocumented individuals who came to the country as children. These youths could be granted temporary permission to stay in the United States under a program called DACA.

Tanaka applied and became a DACA recipient in 2014.

DACA status does not open up a path for citizenship. Nor does it give a recipient the right to vote in U.S. elections.

Recipients are required to apply for DACA renewal every two years, while they are still deemed “undocumented.”

Nonetheless, Tanaka felt for the first time that his existence had been recognized just a bit.

Tanaka started his Harvard life in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and majored in political science. He got through the university’s four-year program on a scholarship that covered his tuition fees and dormitory costs.

For Tsuneo, the news of his son’s admission to Harvard was “something I will never forget for the rest of my life.”

With a sense of fulfillment, Tsuneo announced that his “parenting job was over.”

“Everything my wife and I worked for over more than 10 years was all for that moment,” Tsuneo said.

But their son’s Ivy League education did not change their “undocumented” status, nor did it improve their working conditions.

During a summer break in 2016, Tanaka visited Tsuneo and Ruth Joy in Los Angeles. He was shocked to see them living in a tiny garage-like space.

They depended on a job at an elderly care facility that paid $6 (640 yen) an hour.

Tsuneo, without health insurance, was sick and losing the sight in one of his eyes.

“You’ve done enough,” Tanaka told his parents. “I got into Harvard. Thank you for everything.”

Shortly thereafter, Tsuneo and Ruth Joy boarded a plane and returned to Shizuoka. Tanaka had bought them the one-way self-deportation tickets with money he earned from a part-time job.

His parents were banned from re-entering the United States for 10 years.

Tanaka graduated from Harvard in May 2019, but his parents could not join the celebration.

Tanaka himself has no guarantee of re-entry once he leaves the United States.

The three family members will have to wait at least six more years for a reunion.

‘MY STORY, MY HOME’

Tanaka’s story of beating the odds continued after he graduated from Harvard.

He became the youngest person to serve in the highly competitive San Francisco government’s Fellows Program, and he currently works for city hall.

He saves money by renting a room in a house. Every month, he transfers $1,500 to his parents in Japan.

Tanaka must still renew his work permit every two years. The current one will expire in April 2022.

When President Donald Trump decided to end DACA in 2017, the question of “who am I” returned to Tanaka.

“I’m half Filipino, half Japanese. English is my native language. I grew up as an undocumented immigrant in America. I’m considered a person full of mysteries. I’ve never met anyone with a life story like mine,” he said.

The June 18 SCOTUS decision has helped a bit in untangling the complex identity question.

“I am somebody who is allowed to stay in America. My American dream is still alive,” Tanaka said.

But he misses his parents. On weekends, he cooks rice and prepares a cup of instant miso soup as a remedy for his loneliness.

Although these dishes do not taste like the ones Tsuneo used to cook, they are OK for Tanaka.

“This is my home. This country, so diverse and so tolerant, gave me hope when I was 6. I want to continue to live here,” he said.

Across the ocean in Shizuoka, Tsuneo keeps a piece of America close to his heart, or at least in his wallet.

It is a photo of Tanaka from Harvard’s graduation ceremony. Because of the photo, friends call Tsuneo “Harvard-san” (Mr. Harvard).

“I’ve given myself to a country called America. I think I’ve done enough,” Tsuneo said.

HOT-BUTTON ISSUE IN NOVEMBER

Tsuneo named his son “Daishi,” with kanji characters meaning “great history.” Tanaka is already living up to his name.

Besides his dream of becoming a lawyer, Tanaka found a new goal.

“I want to reform the nation’s immigration policy and make it better,” Tanaka said.

Trump lashed out at the Supreme Court, calling the June 18 decision “shotgun blasts” in the face of conservatives and his base.

He tweeted on the following morning, “(I’m) asking for a legal solution on DACA” and “the Supreme Court is not willing to give us one, so now we have to start this process all over again.”

On the other hand, former Vice President Joe Biden, the presumptive Democratic Party presidential nominee in the November election, has promised to introduce a bill to pave the way for DACA recipients to become naturalized citizens.

With immigration reform a hot-button issue in every recent U.S. presidential election, the future of undocumented people like Tanaka remains uncertain. They cannot cast ballots in the next election.

Still, Tanaka remains resilient.

“I believe there are lots more things that I can do for this country,” he said.