Natalia Kovalchuk wears her auburn-brown hair long, her brows are neatly plucked, and her nails are lacquered a pink-red, as she sips a latte in a café near the Ukrainian Catholic Church in New York City’s East Village.
It’s been over three years since she arrived in Manhattan from Ukraine, having fled her hometown, a small village in Western Ukraine, after Russia’s full-scale invasion. Kovalchuk, 33, is in the U.S. under Temporary Protected Status (TPS). She has a job, an apartment, and an active role in the Ukrainian community. And yet, she is thinking about leaving.
Kovalchuk is one of the nearly 260,000 Ukrainians who have settled in the U.S. since the start of the war and who are now trapped in limbo, as the warm welcome the U.S. government once extended to Ukrainians has turned cold, leaving them anxious and uncertain about their ability to remain in the country.
The shift is driven by recent policy changes. In October, the Trump administration introduced a new $1,000 fee for renewing humanitarian parole, the program through which many Ukrainians came to the U.S. It allows displaced Ukrainians and their immediate family members to temporarily stay in the States and makes them eligible for employment authorization, provided they have an American sponsor. When combined with the standard application and work permit fees, the new fee more than doubles the previous overall cost. The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has also terminated similar humanitarian programs, such as TPS for a number of other countries, and the CHNV (Cuban, Haitian, Nicaraguan, Venezuelan) Parole Program. This, along with processing delays throughout the year and a general anti-immigrant climate, has raised concerns among community leaders that Ukraine could be next.
“Before the war, I had plans for my life,” Kovalchuk said. “Now, I don’t even have plans for the next year. I just plan my next week.”
Her TPS, which allows her to live and work in the U.S. for up to two years, expired at the beginning of October, and she has been waiting since February for its renewal. She checks the status of her application in the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) portal every day, hoping for some sign of progress. Kovalchuk, who works as a housekeeper, said she is used to being able to control everything – so this process, which lies beyond her control, is especially frustrating.
As of July 2025, 5.7 million Ukrainians have sought refuge abroad following Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022, according to the United Nations Refugee Agency. 150,000 have settled in New York state, and the city, which has long been a home for the Ukrainian diaspora, is now the largest hub for Ukrainian refugees in the country.
The majority of Ukrainians currently settled here have come through two temporary programs: TPS, and humanitarian parole through the Biden administration’s Uniting for Ukraine (U4U) initiative, introduced in April 2022. TPS is a designation for those who cannot safely return to their home country due ongoing armed conflict or other circumstances.
The new $1,000 fee, which must be paid every two years to renew temporary permission under the U4U program, has deepened fears that U.S. immigration policy is becoming less welcoming to Ukrainians. The Biden administration had announced a process to apply for re-parole in 2024, after the initial two-year period ended. The Trump administration has not repealed that yet but froze processing between February and June 2025, leading to renewal delays, according to the NGO Ukraine Immigration Taskforce.
Over the past few weeks, DHS has ended TPS for several countries, including Syria, Venezuela, and South Sudan, arguing that they are now safe for return. Ukraine’s last TPS designation was established before Trump took office and is valid through Oct. 19, 2026. However, only Ukrainians who arrived in the U.S. before Aug.16, 2023 are still eligible for TPS. Those who arrived after this date began losing their legal status on Aug. 16 of this year.
Both TPS and humanitarian parole are short-term solutions. Renewal deadlines come up regularly, every year or two, with accompanying cycles of anxiety that are exacerbated by an increasingly hostile atmosphere around immigration in the U.S.. For Ukrainian refugees, two thirds of whom are women and children, according to the UN Refugee Agency, that means living in perpetual limbo.
“I’m still very doubtful that the humanitarian parole status for Ukrainians will be extended in the long run,” Andrew Dobriansky, communications director of the Ukrainian Congress Committee of America (UCAA) said.
Charities and other organizations have shared with him that application processes have improved since the summer. But he maintains that long-term prospects for Ukrainian refugees in the United States are deeply uncertain, as the government offers no direct path to permanent residency or citizenship.
Support for Ukrainian immigrants has been exceptionally high in the U.S. According to a Gallup poll, 78% approved of allowing them to come, compared to 51% for Central Americans and 37% for Syrians in previous years. Also, a study by the National Library of Medicine has shown that Ukrainians, who are “presumably […] white, Northern Europeans,” are less likely to experience the kind of racial discrimination that refugees from places like the Middle East or Africa might be subjected to by the U.S. population.
Still, immigration policy for Ukrainians, says Dobriansky, appears tied to the Trump administration’s approach to the war itself, which has been erratic.
“Frankly, keeping things ambiguous is what the White House would lean to,” Dobriansky said. “On the flip side, they’re actively helping Ukraine much more than before. So, maybe if they feel that they can reach a ceasefire in Ukraine by the end of the year, they can announce that they are helping Ukrainians voluntarily depart.”
Also Read: Thousands of Syrian Immigrants at Risk of Deportation After TPS Termination
Trump has supported military aid for Ukraine but also urged ceasefire frameworks that align closely with Russian interests. In a recent interview, U.S. Ambassador to NATO Matt Whitaker said he “understands how to put leverage on both sides,” which indirectly affects immigration policies.
One Ukrainian woman, who asked to be called “Anna” to protect her privacy, arrived in the U.S. with her husband and her eleven year old daughter in 2023 through the U4U program.
“With Trump now, it’s a different situation, but I don’t speak about it. I’m worried because I want to stay here and be legal. Now the situation is up in the air, we don’t know what will happen.”
Anna’s latest renewal was approved within a month, last October, granting two more years of living in the U.S. — but she still feels like she has no real certainty and is already researching other ways to remain in the U.S. permanently.
Oksana Sydorchak, another U4U program holder, said many refugees she knows are distressed by the uncertainty they face.
“A lot of Ukrainians are afraid because their legal status expired. They applied for re-parole, and they haven’t received an answer yet,” she said.
Sydorchak was granted re-parole last year, allowing her to stay in the U.S. through 2026. She currently feels secure about her status. However, she remains concerned about finding a permanent job in her profession and about her family back in Ukraine, as her current status does not allow her to leave the U.S. Still, she sees many opportunities here and would like to plan for the long-term.
Kovalchuk, meanwhile, is still waiting for her new documents. During the Biden administration her TPS applications took one to two months to process, she said, but now they can take more than a year, according to the Ukraine Immigration Taskforce.
“I’m not here illegally and have my work permit, because I reapplied,” Kovalchuk said. “But I don’t have any actual documents in my hands.”
She believes the long delays and rising costs will eventually push many Ukrainians to leave for Canada or Europe. She sees that paying $1,000 every year, plus work permit fees, is unsustainable. She also wants to visit her mother in Ukraine but like Sydorchak is unable to leave the country with her current status.
For now, she jokes about marrying an American or winning the green card lottery. In reality, though, she has no choice but to wait for USCIS to renew her documents.
