The same day Geslain Luma, a 29-year-old Haitian immigrant, learned he was granted temporary protected status to remain in the United States was the same day President Donald Trump announced plans to cut the program short.
Figuring out his future with “the end of TPS gives me a headache,” Luma said.
For more than 15 years, TPS has allowed thousands of Haitians to work legally in the U.S. and avoid deportation while their homeland grapples with political instability, gang violence and economic hardship.
Since the assassination of President Jovenel Moïse in 2021, armed gangs have gained control over much of Port-au-Prince, creating a power vacuum that has made governing a challenge and fueled further violence, homelessness and starvation. More than 5,600 people were killed and 1,400 were kidnapped amid gang conflicts last year, according to the United Nations. The violence has rendered 1 million people homeless in Haiti, forcing many into makeshift shelters and exacerbating the country’s economic challenges.
But with the Trump administration’s decision to end TPS by August 2025, an estimated 500,000 Haitian immigrants living in the U.S. face an uncertain future, forced to decide whether to stay and fight for legal status or prepare for a return to a country in crisis.
Neither the White House nor the Department of Homeland Security responded to a request for comment.
In and around New York City, where at least 160,000 Haitian people live, Brooklyn’s Haitian community has formed deep roots while also sharing fears of deportation. Evangelical Crusade Christian Church in the Flatbush neighborhood has served as a sanctuary for Haitian immigrants for at least five decades, providing a range of services, including food pantries, wellness events and legal assistance.
“The community is worried,” said the Rev. Samuel Nicolas, the church’s senior pastor. “For over 15 years, these individuals have built their lives here, believing TPS would eventually lead to permanent residency. Now, they are watching that hope slip away.”
Many fled the country after a devastating earthquake struck Haiti in 2010, killing more than 200,000 people and leaving an estimated 1.3 million people homeless. In the aftermath, people arrived in the U.S. and gained TPS protection, seeking stability that allowed them to rebuild their lives. But the program was never meant to be a permanent solution.
Abigail Desravines, a 35-year-old Haitian immigrant, came to the U.S. following the earthquake.
“The conditions were getting worse and worse,” Desravines recalled. Family members in the U.S. “were calling, asking what we were going to do. We told them we wanted to come here for school because I could not stay in Haiti for school. I lost classmates. There was a lot of loss.”
Desravines said TPS allowed her and her sister to build a life in the U.S., and she eventually earned a green card. Despite the protection it offered, Desravines said living under TPS still involved hurdles and instability.
“People think TPS is a free pass, but it’s not,” Desravines said. “You have to keep renewing, pay fees and live with the fear that it could end at any time. It’s not an easy path.”
On top of paying fees, some colleges require TPS holders to pay tuition “out of pocket like international students,” she said. “Even though we lived in the U.S. for years, some colleges did not allow us in-state tuition.”
Desravines’ parents remained in Haiti while she and her sister lived with extended family and continued their education. While adjusting to life in the U.S., the sisters quietly shouldered the burdens of work, studies and immigration uncertainties, without adding further stress to their parents as they dealt with the earthquake’s aftermath.
“My parents had their own struggles,” she said. “We had the opportunity to come to the U.S., and we did not want our parents to worry. But it affected us emotionally, and it did affect our grades.”
The end of the program will create a disruption, as many TPS holders have jobs, attend school and are parts of their communities.
For those now facing the threat of deportation, the prospect of returning to Haiti is daunting. The country remains plagued by instability, and Nicolas said he believes sending people back under these conditions is inhumane.
“Haiti is not in a place where people with TPS or those under humanitarian programs can return,” he said. “Haiti is being overrun by armed groups and the infrastructure is barely functioning.”
Luma, the new TPS recipient, said he has also applied for asylum and holds a work permit, which is valid until 2029. However, his legal status is not guaranteed — in 2027, a judge will decide his asylum claim.
“When you appear before a judge, you never know what decision they will make, so TPS would have been an extra layer of security in a difficult situation,” he said. Luma said he was concerned for friends and relatives who rely solely on TPS.
“A person with only TPS works, buys a car, buys a house, and now all their documents will expire,” he said. “They have no choice but to self-deport because there’s no way to live without legal documents.”
Many immigrants send money for food, education and health care to their families in Haiti, Nicolas said. “If they are deported, that financial support will disappear, worsening Haiti’s humanitarian crisis.”
Nicolas said the deportations will also have a social and economic impact in the States.
“Haitians are part of the fabric of New York,” he said. “They fill our churches, they work in jobs others won’t take, they contribute to our economy. If TPS ends, it won’t just be a Haitian problem, it will be a New York problem and a national problem.”
Immigrant advocacy groups are calling for legislative action to protect TPS holders, pushing for a pathway to residency for those who have lived in the U.S. for years. A group of organizations filed a lawsuit Monday seeking to block the Trump administration’s attempt to end TPS for Haitians early. Nicolas said he hopes Congress steps in to provide relief, or that Trump has a change of heart.
“My hope is that our president will have a compassionate heart and recognize that Haiti is not a place these people can return to,” he said. “Where would they go? What infrastructure is in place for them? If we call ourselves a nation built on Christian values, then we must act with compassion.”
