Since coming to the United States from Haiti in 2010, Farah, who asked to be identified with a pseudonym, has become the type of person the United States shouldn’t want to lose. She works as a housing specialist for a nonprofit in Cambridge that helps people with mental illness secure care. She pays taxes and has little debt.
But a federal judge ruled in early August that President Trump could rescind the immigration status that allowed Farah and hundreds of thousands of other immigrants like her to stay and work in the country legally. More than 350,000 Haitians, including roughly 45,000 in Massachusetts, could now face arrest and deportation.
But just because Trump has the power to send people back to their home countries doesn’t mean he should use it. Even some Republicans are pressing the president to think twice. There’s an economic case for keeping the protections, since many employers rely on immigrants to fill gaps in the workforce. There’s also the human side: As Republican Governor Mike DeWine of Ohio said in a July interview with CBS, sending people back to Haiti, which is controlled by violent gangs, is sending them back to “hell.”
Farah’s work authorization was recently suspended. Temporary Protected Status, the immigration category that protected Farah until last week, was created in 1990 to shield people from being deported to dangerous countries — whether it was due to war, environmental disaster, or authoritarian regimes.
Killings by gangs in Haiti are frequent, and the country has never fully recovered from a devastating earthquake in 2010. The people who experience these conditions in Haiti are exactly who TPS is designed to protect.
Nationwide, Haitian TPS holders are now unable to work, with ominous signs that another Immigration and Customs Enforcement deportation surge is on the way. There is also, unsurprisingly, zero transparency and accountability from the agency. DeWine said that ICE had never communicated with him about what it planned to do in his state.
“I’m using every paycheck to make sure debts are paid off, or credit card bills, anything like that,” Farah said. Her mother, also a TPS holder, has been suspended from her work at an emergency dental clinic. They do not know how long they can go without their paychecks.
The Department of Homeland Security has been consistent in its justification for rescinding TPS: “Temporary means temporary.” This is an asinine argument, especially because the American government has granted permanent residence paths to many groups facing protracted violence or instability at home, from the Cuban Adjustment Act of 1966 to the Chinese Student Protection Act of 1992.
The Trump administration has been unable to back up its claim that Haiti is now a stable place to send families; that’s because it’s not, as other branches of the federal government, such as the Department of State, are keenly aware. The department’s advice to Americans is clear: “Do not travel to Haiti for any reason. U.S. citizens are at risk due to crime, terrorism, kidnapping, unrest, and limited health care.”
Many TPS holders immigrated to America when they were young and cannot imagine pursuing a life in Haiti. Farah’s father, who owns a business in the country, must often close his doors to customers to avoid robberies. Women especially face limited career options, and Farah is invested in her job. She financed her own college education, as TPS holders are not eligible for federal financial aid.
Farah was devastated when she read that immigration authorities had been fitting some TPS holders with ankle monitors in Springfield, Ohio. Some Haitian residents described feeling humiliated, and a local advocate told The Haitian Times it was like “bringing back slavery days.”
Most reporting has focused on the loss for America if TPS holders are deported. They represent an important labor pool, revitalizing post-industrial cities across the nation and helping ease the caretaker shortage in critically understaffed elder care facilities.
But Haiti’s future is also at stake. The Haitian diaspora sends home roughly $3.9 billion, or a third of the country’s GDP, to family and friends. This money represents a sliver of the value immigrants offer to the US economy but is crucial stability for Haitians trying to rebuild their nation.
Deporting these families “would risk worsening Haiti’s humanitarian crisis, severing the remittances that sustain families in Haiti and expanding the recruitment pool for the gangs the international community is trying to defeat,” Russel L. Honoré recently wrote in a guest essay for The New York Times. It’s a lose-lose-lose for immigrants, businesses, and families across both nations.
Trump has proven his power over these people. Now he should show he also has mercy.
Rebecca Spiess can be reached at rebecca.spiess@globe.com. Follow her @rebeccaspiessl.
