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‘You Leave with Nothing’: Haitians Face Impossible Choice After Supreme Court Decision

As humanitarian protections vanish overnight, thousands of Haitians in the U.S. weigh the dangers of detention against the risks of returning to a country in crisis.

Béatrice Vallières

Jun 05, 2025

A HAITIAN FLAG DURING THE 2023 HAITIAN FLAG DAY PARADE IN BROOKLYN. PHOTO BY RALPH THOMASSAINT JOSEPH FOR DOCUMENTED

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When Sebastien left his hometown of Jacmel, Haiti, for New York last summer, he knew the political tides might soon turn against him if President Donald Trump won reelection in November. Still, with only months left to finish his college degree in Haiti, he chose to interrupt his studies and leave, seeking safety and opportunity in the U.S.

Now, he isn’t sure he would make that same decision again. 

“I don’t follow the news so I don’t end up paralyzed by fear,” said the 27-year-old refugee. “This country is very unpredictable. The government is unpredictable.”

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Like all of the Haitians interviewed for this piece, Sebastien only shared his first name out of fear of retaliation from immigration authorities. 

Sebastien came to the U.S. with his mother late last June, using a legal pathway known as CHNV, the Processes for Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans and Venezuelans — or, as it is known in Haiti, “the Biden program.” CHNV was launched by the Biden administration in January 2023 as a way to allow nationals from select countries to stay and work in the U.S. for two years, provided they had a U.S.-based sponsor and passed a security check. 

But last week, the United States Supreme Court upheld, for now, the Department of Homeland Security’s (DHS) decision to end the humanitarian paroles granted through the program, overruling an emergency relief order issued by a federal judge in Massachusetts in April. 

“[The ruling] is completely, completely out of line and completely inhumane, a complete lack of compassion and dignity,” said Guerline Jozef, co-founder and executive director of the Haitian Bridge Alliance, who brought the original lawsuit in Massachusetts against DHS.

Also Read: Supreme Court Backs Trump Ending Parole for Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans and Venezuelans

More than 530,000 recipients, including over 210,000 Haitians, are now at risk for deportation unless they secure another means to stay in the country. For those who have found themselves undocumented overnight, they must choose between staying and hiding or going back to Haiti, a country controlled by violent gangs. 

The Caribbean nation is currently plunged into a humanitarian, political, and economic crisis of unprecedented scale. Half the population — about 6 million people — need humanitarian assistance, and over a million people have been internally displaced, according to the United Nations

When Sebastien learned of the Supreme Court’s ruling on an acquaintance’s WhatsApp story, he felt sick. “The thing I keep wondering is…ICE [Immigration and Customs Enforcement], are they going to come to this neighborhood? Start looking for people? That’s what I wonder, if they’ll come knocking on my door,” he said. 

Documented spoke with several Haitian refugees impacted by the Supreme Court’s ruling. Most of them saw Temporary Protected Status (TPS), which provides protection against deportation to countries facing ongoing conflict, as their last chance to stay in the country.

Haitians have benefited from TPS in the U.S. since 2010, after a devastating 7.0-magnitude earthquake caused widespread damage and casualties. On Feb. 20, Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem issued a notice stating that the TPS designation for Haiti would end on August 3 — six months earlier than the Biden administration had planned. This decision is currently being challenged in a federal court in New York. 

Once the current designation period ends, the Trump administration will decide whether to renew the protection against deportations. Should the program end, an estimated 500,000 people would lose their work authorization and status.

“The community is waiting,” said Herold Dasque, community liaison at Haitian Americans United for Progress, a New York City-based advocacy organization. “They are watching, thinking, analyzing, and strategizing.”

Sebastien wanted to apply for TPS, but found out he was ineligible because he entered the country past the cutoff date. He has not applied for asylum, worried he did not meet the criteria. This means the Supreme Court’s decision stripped him of his only legal option to stay in the U.S. But going back to Haiti is hard to imagine. “You cannot live there,” he said. “You have to rely on people abroad to send you money. There is no work.”

With gangs controlling routes near the capital, Sebastien said even getting home would be dangerous. To reach Jacmel, his hometown in the south, he would have to travel from Cap-Haïtien — the site of the country’s only working airport — through territory where kidnappings, carjackings, and robberies are frequent. 

Since April 30, when the Supreme Court decision came out, Dasque has received many calls from people in situations similar to Sebastien’s. Despite the danger in Haiti, his advice to them is clear: go home. 

“It’s better to go back home than to get arrested,” he said. “Because when you’re under arrest, you don’t know where they’ll take you: to Guantanamo, El Salvador, Libya, or somewhere else. And you don’t know how long you’ll be detained.”

Since January, ICE has carried out four deportation flights to Haiti, according to data from the migrant advocacy group Witness at the Border, which included several migrants with no criminal backgrounds. The Trump administration has sent 238 Venezuelan migrants — more than half without criminal records — to the maximum-security prison in El Salvador known as CECOT. It has also sent migrants to Guantanamo Bay, and officials have floated the possibility of sending people to Libya, though a federal judge ruled against the latter.

Jozef said her organization has been advising parole recipients to consult immigration attorneys to “determine the best course of action for them,” and to seek another form of relief, such as TPS or asylum, if they are eligible. 

But even for those who applied for other protections, the future is uncertain. Jean Fride, 35, came to the U.S. in September and was granted humanitarian parole at the southern border. He has since applied for both TPS and political asylum and has yet to receive a decision.

“I had a status. Now they told us it was illegal. I never intended to come to the United States illegally. I never wanted that,” said Jean Fride. 

He left Haiti for Brazil in 2017 after his involvement in local politics made him the target of harassment and threats. Then, he said, he lived in Brazil for six years, learned Portuguese, went back to school, and built a career as an industrial electrician before he decided to move to New York with his fiancée.   

Also Read: Haitian Community Protests in Brooklyn to Defend Temporary Protected Status

He is hopeful that his pending applications will allow him to stay in the country a little bit longer. “If I go back to Haiti, I don’t know where to go. I have nothing there,” he said. His hometown of Ganthier is currently under the control of gangs, he said, adding that the area where he used to live with his family has been “completely destroyed.” 

For many, the potential renewal of TPS in August represents their last hope to stay in the country.

Saint-Hubert applied for TPS months ago and still hasn’t heard back. The 40-year-old migrant left his home in Cap-Haïtien in April 2024 and came to New York under the Biden program. 

“When I was in Haiti, I thought that here, it was paradise,” he said. “But when you get here, it’s the opposite.”

Saint-Hubert currently works as a security guard. But, he said, “If the President decides to send me back to Haiti, I’ll be without a job, without anything.”

If he doesn’t get approved for deportation protections, or if the program does not get renewed in August, “I’ll have no choice but to go back to my country,” he said. “Imagine yourself in a country where you can’t work, where you have no status. You need housing, food, all of that — but without work, you can’t do anything.”

And while life in the U.S. has been difficult, returning home would be worse. “We hope that heaven or God will do something,” he said, “but in the meantime, it’s the president who decides.”

For Sebastien, the thought of leaving the U.S. is still crushing. “You came here with hope, and you leave with nothing,” he said. “That’s what’s so difficult.”

Béatrice Vallières

Béatrice is a bilingual journalist based in NYC. She graduated with a Master of Science in journalism from Columbia University.

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