The voters spoke. But as is so often the case around here, they didn't get the last word.
From Tempe comes news that Arizona State University President Michael Crow and his crew have been handing out scholarships to students who are in this country illegally.
Unlike the courts, which ignored
the voter-imposed no-bail law until the Legislature put a stop to it, Crow
believes he's found a legal way to thumb his nose at Proposition 300.
Scholarship money for undocumented students is coming from the school's
private stash, not the public stuff.
And so the state's top educator has outfoxed the state's electorate. Or has
he?
State Treasurer Dean Martin, a former state legislator and the principal
sponsor of Proposition 300, says ASU may be breaking the law. He plans to
ask for an audit, among other things, to find out what, exactly, is going
on.
"I think they have a serious problem," he told me Tuesday. "They may be in
violation of the law. They definitely are in violation of the spirit of the
law."
Personally, I've always thought we ought to give students who are here
illegally a break, on the theory that they came as little kids and had no
say in the matter. But what I think - or what Crow thinks - doesn't really
matter. Arizona voters made their feelings crystal clear in November, making
Saturday's headline all the more startling: "ASU helps migrants find
tuition."
The details are hard to come by.
Virgil Renzulli, ASU's vice president for public affairs, says 122
undocumented students registered for classes at ASU this fall. But he won't
know until later this week how many are actually attending or how much in
scholarships they've been given.
Renzulli says no state money was spent to raise the funds. It's all private
dough, raised by the ASU Foundation, the university's non-profit arm, which
in turn gives it to the university's financial office to dole out.
Some of the money was raised specifically for undocumented students, he
says. Other funds came from a pot of private scholarship donations, to be
used as the university sees fit.
"They (the donors) trust the university to make those decisions," he told
me, adding that school officials have gone back to some donors and gotten
their OK to award the scholarship money to undocumented students.
Fred Boice, president of the Arizona Board of Regents, said he was aware of
what Crow is doing and has no problem with it.
"If people (private donors) don't want their money used that way, their
voices will be heard," Boice said. "But until they are, I applaud Michael
for doing what he can to help these kids get an education."
Martin isn't applauding. He initially had no concerns, saying he assumed
that private donors were giving scholarships directly to undocumented
students. But scholarship funds at the university's disposal - funds that
often could go to legal residents who are now graduating college saddled
with loans - should be going to students who are legally here, he says.
"I believe it's very likely that they're violating the law. If not the
letter of the law, they're definitely violating the intent of the law," he
said.
Renzulli, meanwhile, says that Proposition 300 restrictions don't apply
because the money is never transferred to a public fund.
"The decision on who it goes to would be made by the financial-aid office,"
he said. "But that doesn't mean it's our money."
Cute, huh? I'm sure voters will appreciate the distinction.
Read Roberts at
laurie.roberts@arizonarepublic.com or (602) 444-8635. Read her
blog at robertsblog.azcentral.com