The kids at the Academy at Palumbo loved Ashley Matias Matos, a school counseling intern at the Philadelphia public school.

Many related to her story: a child of North Philadelphia who found champions to help her on her own educational path, a first-generation college student who overcame obstacles to reach the Ivy League.

So when a counseling position came open at Palumbo for the 2025-26 term, it was an easy call for school leaders to hire Matos, who just earned a master’s degree from the University of Pennsylvania.

Matos had a tentative hire letter and the go-ahead from the Pennsylvania Department of Education that she was cleared to work as a school counselor in the state when she got startling news: The Philadelphia School District couldn’t hire her because of her immigration status, district officials said in an email to Matos.

“In some ways, it’s the story of my life,” Matos said.

A ladder to stability

Matias was born in the Dominican Republic, but moved to Philadelphia when she was so young that she doesn’t remember a life before the U.S. She was undocumented until she was 13, then was granted legal status under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program.

She grew up not far from Kensington and Allegheny — rich in community, she said, but struggling in many other ways.

“Growing up in North Philly was hard, but going to college and learning to walk in spaces not really meant for me was even harder,” Matos said.

Eight years ago, Matos and her mother received U visas, a relatively rare protection given to victims of crime or those who are helpful to law enforcement. (Her mother was the victim of a violent crime when Matos was 16, and the star witness in a trial the next year.)

Matos can’t hold a federal job, but can legally work in the U.S. and can’t be deported. She’s on the path to permanent residency, but under President Donald Trump, “immigration is at a standstill — I don’t see me receiving a green card anytime soon,” she said.

For as long as Matos can remember, her immigration status has been a barrier — at first, in high school, college seemed impossible because she wasn’t eligible for federal aid.

But Matos, who grew up in Kensington and attended Cramp Elementary and Mariana Bracetti Academy Charter School, had teachers and a school counselor who believed in her. With their help, she scored a full scholarship to Antioch College in Ohio, where she earned a degree in psychology.

When it was time to plan her career, Matos realized she wanted to be for other Philadelphia students what her school counselors were for her.

“They cared so much,” said Matos, who’s now 25. “It’s why I wanted to go back to a school system.”

She felt like she hit the lottery when she got admitted to the school and mental health counseling program at Penn, even if it was a stretch financially.

“I’ve always been hitting these walls with work, and climbing a ladder that I hoped would give me some sort of stability,” Matos said. “I was hoping that Penn was the Holy Grail, my final ticket. I thought, ‘If I get this degree, I won’t be struggling so much.’”

‘She just doesn’t give up’

Matos isn’t afraid of hard work — this year alone, she juggled three jobs to make ends meet.

Her favorite job was working at Palumbo, a district magnet school where she immediately felt at home. (“I tell the kids, ‘I was a crazy teen, too,’” she said.)

Students gravitated to Matos, said Chris Donnelly, a longtime Palumbo counselor.

“One of the things that we think kids lack a lot today is resiliency, and Ashley embodies that,” Donnelly said. “She knows how to get right to the heart of the situation with kids, I think in part because she has been through so much in her life. She just doesn’t give up, and she is really good at the job. I don’t say that everybody is a natural at school counseling, and she is. She’s a huge asset to the school.”

Palumbo staff interviewed seven people for the opening counseling job. Matos, the committee’s top choice, was offered the job in May.

For a time, U visa holders weren’t able to hold Pennsylvania licenses, but that changed recently. Matos checked with the state education department, which, she said, confirmed she was clear to work as a school counselor if she passed an exam. She has since passed that test, the Praxis.

But the formal hire letter she was promised when she got a verbal offer from Palumbo administrators never came. When Matos spoke to a member of the district’s talent office, she was asked, she said, if she was a green card holder or U.S. citizen.

No, she told them, but I have a U visa, which authorizes me to work in the United States. Matos mentioned that the Pennsylvania Department of Education had confirmed her ability to work as a school counselor, and noted that she already had been on the district’s payroll — she was paid as an intern.

A district official confirmed in a May 22 email that the state education department told the district that “candidates with work authorization visas are now eligible to obtain certification,” the official wrote. But “despite PDE’s updated policy, we still need to confirm our district’s position on hiring candidates with work authorization visa.”

After more back and forth, Matos received an email from the district’s director of recruitment and selection on June 11.

“At this time, it does not seem that a decision will be made prior to the 25-26SY so we would be unable to move forward with your candidacy,” the note read.

Matos was crushed. She wept.

It didn’t make sense, she said — with a nationwide mental health crisis and shortage of people willing to work in schools, including as school counselors, why wouldn’t the district hire her, especially since the state confirmed her ability to take the job?

Shortly after a reporter reached out to the district for comment on Matos’ situation on Wednesday, an official from the talent office contacted Matos, apologizing for the experience she’s had thus far and promising to “see if they can do anything,” Matos said. They asked more questions about her visa.

Naima DeBrest, a district spokesperson, said the district would “examine this issue further.”

‘I’m strong because I’ve had to be’

Matos isn’t letting herself hope too hard that the district will reverse course.

She’s making contingency plans: picking up more hours at her per diem mental health counseling job, contemplating what else she might do if the district doesn’t clear a path for her.

It’s been a rough stretch for Matos. In January, just after Trump took office, student loan companies pulled loan offers because of Matos’ immigration status. She was at the brink of needing to leave school.

Eventually, supporters — including many connected to Palumbo — made a way for Matos to pay Penn through donations raised via a social media campaign. (Penn has since added scholarships for immigrant students that she won’t benefit from, Matos said, but she’s pleased that there’s been action for others.)

Budget cuts at Penn also meant Matos lost another job there that she was expecting to work through the summer.

“I’m strong because I’ve had to be,” Matos said, tearing up. “This has been my life.”

Still, she’s scared — even though she and her immigration lawyer believe the law is squarely on Matos’ side, she worries about of people’s judgment, and about the reality of her immigration status.

“There’s always this fear,” she said. “There is nothing stopping Trump from arresting U.S. citizens. The only thing I have is this visa that says you can’t deport me. They could detain me. My mom and I are scared.”

But Matos is squaring her shoulders. She’s used to no.

“I don’t have the same opportunities as other people,” she said. “I get told no, and I go at it 10 times harder.”

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