Alone and unfamiliar with the streets of New York City, Mary Adoto found herself in search of accommodation after being kicked out of a hotel. She assumed her sponsors scheduled the stay for 30 days, but found her belongings outside the locked hotel room after 3 weeks.

Her sponsors were New York City Board of Education. A native of Nigeria, Adoto was one of several hundred teachers recruited from the Caribbean in 2001 to teach in NYC Public Schools in exchange for educational opportunities, housing assistance, and a path to residency.

Missing her family and home in Trinidad, Adoto settled in Yonkers. Her frustrations only grew as she faced the horrifying reality that she was now a product and victim of American's immigration system.

The American immigrant has become synonymous with the Latino. The media further emphasizes this image. Although this concept has long reigned in society, the frustrations of the immigration system in America are painfully just as familiar to individuals of African and Caribbean descent.

According to 2010 reports by the Pew Research Center, Black immigrants make up approximately 9 percent of the U.S population. Over 3 million are Caribbean born.

In the case of approximately 700 teachers, it wasn't the "American Dream" that motivated them to leave their homes, rather it was an invitation from the New York City Board of Education. That invitation, however, would soon become unwelcoming.

According to the NY Daily News, the NYC Board of Education was desperate to address a teacher shortage. So, the board took out ads in local newspapers in English-speaking Caribbeans cities like Kingston, Jamaica, and Georgetown, Guyana, a decade ago.

It also sent recruiters to a dozen island nations, hoping to lure qualified educators to jobs in New York. Hundreds of teachers jumped at the chance to live and work abroad.

The Black Institute, a new organization founded by community activist and organizer Bertha M. Lewis in 2010, is fighting for the rights of these Caribbean teachers.

Mainly women, these teachers are natives of Antigua, the Bahamas, Barbados, the Cayman Islands, Costa Rica, Dominica, Dominican Republic and St. Lucia. 

However, the influx came primarily from Guyana, Jamaica and Trinidad.

"Different things were told to different teachers at various meetings," said Sandra Rich, a native of Trinidad who was recruited. "[NYC Board of Ed.] only promised [me] work for two years and it was hinted that after that the stay would be longer. There was a chance to pursue higher education with Brooklyn College for those who didn't have a master's degree."

The 59 year old, who has been teaching at Maxwell High School in East New York, Brooklyn since her arrival, stated that the stay was extended by one year in 2004. It was then that she applied for an alien resident card through the B.O.E. and things took on a permanent change.

Many of the teachers found themselves searching for jobs and housing to sustain themselves. The frustration became so great for some that they gave up and returned to their Caribbean homes.

According to the 2011 Labor Statistics, foreign born blacks had an unemployment rate of 12.5 percent.

Despite this figure, some have been able to maintain jobs.

Over a decade ago, Alden Nesbitt migrated to NYC with his mother Antoinette Nesbitt at age 10. They traveled along with his older brother and sister who were 18 and 16 years old respectively at the time.

"[My mother] found work immediately," said Nesbitt, a native of Trinidad. "She had a master's degree, but one of the things [the B.O.E] promised was that [the teachers] would have a job, not that they would be looking."

Some teachers would resort to job fairs and would change their jobs several times within the first 4 to 5 years, as was the case of Monica Davis, the mother of Mikhel Crishlow.

Since many of these teachers agreed to migrate with the understanding that their children would also receive residency, the cruelest aftermath has been the paralysis that their children now experience because of broken promises.

"My son suffered from depression," said Rich, whose son was 15 years old when they came.

"My neighbor told me to be careful with him on the buses where immigration officers were checking people. My son stopped going to college because he was afraid, he stayed in the basement. He's doing better now, but is almost 30 years old and is not able do things that others his age are doing."

Commuting is a threatening process for many of these children, especially crossing state lines. Many fear being out too late in their own neighborhoods for chance of being frisked and possibly detained.

"Stop and Frisk affects me just as much as it affects African Americans in the community," said Nesbitt, who currently lives in Brownsville, Brooklyn, and has been frisked four times since he's been living in NYC. "The Department of Homeland Security can come and get you if they have your information."

Crishlow, who migrated with his mother 3 days after his 16th birthday, is also familiar with these fears.

"When I didn't understand, I didn't have the fear," said Crishlow, a native of Trinidad. "Fear increased as I became more aware...I'm pretty much stuck with my mother. I don't travel too far away from my mother because there's a fear that I'll get picked up...I haven't left New York in a long time."

Both he and Nesbitt attended a rally with more than 1000 Caribbean teachers and their children held at Capitol Hill on March 20 to highlight the Caribbean-African position on prospective amendments to immigration.

At the rally, contingents delivered two documents to Senators Eric Cantor (R)  and Kirsten Gillivrand (D). The documents were titled "Broken Promises: the story of Caribbean International Teachers in New York City’s Public Schools” and  "Dream Deferred: Black, Invisible & Documented: The Plight of Caribbean Immigrant Youth." They gave a thorough explanation of the teachers' grievances.

It was only two years ago that the affected teachers formed The Broken Promises Campaign to raise concerns about their residency status, legal fees, principal control and family documentation. They are now lobbying for change at the federal level.

According to the "Broken Promises” document, at the time of recruitment the teachers were promised "New York State certification, Master’s degrees, housing assistance and ultimately, a pathway to permanent United States residency for themselves and their nuclear families."

These promises weren't met by the New York City Department of Education, it states, although the teachers held up their end of the bargain by remaining in the school system "teaching in areas where there are teacher shortages – often in low-income, low-performing schools.”

Crishlow believes it is his duty to speak on behalf of all the children who are affected by New York City's broken promises, even though he learned rather late in life what his fate would be.

It was not until his senior year at Boys & Girls High School in Brooklyn, NY that Crishlow realized that his immigration status was a problem. Everyone met with an adviser to organize for college. All he experienced was roadblock after roadblock.

Despite the hurdles, the now 27 year old went on to study architecture at CUNY City Tech and graduate cum laude with a B.A. degree in Technology and Architecture.

Although he has all these accomplishments under his belt, he's not yet eligible to work. Like many children of the recruited teachers, he has been aged out of the system.

"Before the age of twenty-one, I didn't know about the process of being aged out," said Nesbitt, now 23. "...I thought my mom was just waiting to get her green card...I got a letter on my twenty-first birthday saying I have nine days to leave the country."

Being aged out is a term that means that a young person has lost their priority status for family-sponsored visas upon turning 21 because their parents faced a long wait due to backlogs in the immigration system.

A few of the many barriers these children face are: they cannot legally work, they are barred from obtaining driver’s licenses or state identification, they have to qualify as F-1 international students to continue their post-secondary education, they are prohibited from accessing scholarships, grants and any form of public assistance, they are disqualified from their parents’ health insurance and cannot have their own, and they are subjected to "stop-and-frisk” and deportation.

Nesbitt studied Psychology at CUNY City Tech and later transferred to CUNY Kingsborough Community College. However, his college journey is incomplete.

"I had two more classes to take to graduate before I stopped attending," he said. " [Immigration Adviser] told me I had to stop...By switching to an F1 Student Visa, I would have to pay four times as much because I would be labeled as an international student though I've been here for the past twelve years and have been in college for the past four years."

Instead of sitting around, he decided that he would do something. He attended a monthly meeting with his mother, now 58, who is involved with the Association of International Educators. He was prompted to co-found the International Youth Association under the Black Institute along with Crishlow.

The International Youth Association has connected with the Youth Leadership Counsel and the Dreamer Coalition to advocate the message of Caribbean Immigration Reform. One of the factors they are pushing for is that the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services recognize that 16 years old doesn't mean that one is an adult.

They are aiming to push the age to 18 years old, so that those who migrated under that age would still be categorized as a child. According to The New York Daily News, since many of the children arrived in the U.S. after age 16 they cannot qualify for the Presidents’ Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program (DACA).

In response to President Obama's partial Dream Act legislation, The Black Institute has begun organizing a program titled Adopted Dreamer. The organization would pay for the dreamer, give them an internship and an adviser. This would save the dreamer $465 - the cost of a 2 year work permit through Deferred Action - and another $65 to renew it if the dreamer failed to obtain a job within that time frame.

"As far as hope, even when they do get their green card, the process is stressful and they are angry with the Board of Ed. and crushed," said Kira Shepherd, The Black Institute's Campaign Director. "...They are underpaid, disrespected and disposable."

Adoto can testify to the frustrations post documentation.

"I'm so bitter," she said. "They should be considerate and treat us as human beings who have left everything to come here. Once you're a foreigner, you're very vulnerable. If you're a foreigner who becomes an American, your rights are still limited."

Adoto received her green card last year.

"The saddest part is that our counterparts that came from Canada, not up to five years, maybe within three they got their green card," said Adoto. "The treatment was different...the irony is that all the teachers save lots of money for the Board of Ed. because almost all the West Indian teachers don't need mentors...the discrimination is just, it's so frustrating."

Rich also acknowledged European counterparts who were recruited on green cards while the Caribbean teachers arrived on visas. Rich received her documentation in October of 2010.

Similar to Rich, Adoto didn't experience discrimination from the principal or school where she was assigned. She has been teaching at Angelo Patri Middle School, MS391, in the Bronx since her arrival.

"They kept renewing my H1B visa," said Adoto, now over 50. "...They were very good, they would give me recommendations and they kept renewing my certification."

According to reports from the Board of Education, 553 of the teachers have received documentation, while 143 are still waiting on green cards.

"The biggest thing is passing immigration reform that includes the needs of black immigrants and recruited professionals," said Shepherd.

Reaching that goal will take courage, support and proper education about the matter.

"The number one problem is that people are very fearful and because of that not many people are aware of the problem," said Nesbitt. "So it's our role, me and Mikhel's role, to become visible. We did nothing wrong, it was the fault of our parent's employers that got us into this circumstance."

*Mary Adoto's and Sandra Rich's names were changed for the sake of the protection of identity