As an activist fighting the oppressive Nicaraguan regime, Carmen risked her life to save others.
With the help of sources inside the government, she alerted dissenters who were on its blacklist. She would warn them to flee, helping them escape arrest, torture or death.
Then early one winter morning, she got a call from a source that changed her life with just a few words:
“You’re on the list. Run.”
Carmen, 43, who asked that her last name not be used to protect her safety and the identity of her family in Nicaragua, knew the nightmare that lay ahead. She had seen colleagues arrested or go missing under trumped-up government charges. So she ran — leaving behind her two children, her family and her country.
Under protections extended by the Biden administration, Carmen was able to enter the United States legally under what is known as “Humanitarian Parole,” a constellation of programs allowing migrants to stay in the U.S. if they came from countries facing humanitarian crises.
For now, Carmen is protected by a Biden-era program, dubbed CHNV, that allowed limited numbers of Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans to enter legally if they had a sponsor in the U.S. and passed a background check.
But the Trump administration has now paused that program and is targeting multiple pathways for legal immigration, leaving those who came here legally in limbo or vulnerable to deportation.
“I can’t go back to my country,” said Carmen through tears in Spanish. “Don’t close the door, don’t kick me out, because I am going to die. They’re going to kill me.”
In its first two weeks, the Trump administration paused all humanitarian parole programs and ordered the ending of programs “contrary to the policies” in the president’s executive orders, including CHNV. In the Bay Area, these programs protect a broad swath of migrants who legally reside in the U.S. While many are from Nicaragua and Venezuela, several hail from around the world, including Ukraine and Afghanistan.
Although the end of CHNV, first reported by CBS News, isn’t expected to go into effect until the coming weeks, the pause of Humanitarian Parole programs has already had an impact.
Carmen was months into the arduous process of getting her children, 12 and 15, here on Humanitarian Parole. Now with the pause, she does not know when she will reunite with her family.
“The day that Trump signed the revocation order, I wept all day,” said Carmen. “I felt like I did that day they called me and told me to run.”
For others, the pause has sown fear and uncertainty. After Russia invaded Ukraine, Zhanna fled with her husband and three children and came to the United States under a program that is now on hold.
“At home, we don’t have stability now. And here, it’s the same,” said Zhanna, who asked that her last name not be used because of her legal status. “We cannot dream … America is the land of opportunity, now we don’t have (opportunity).”
Last weekend, Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem announced the rollback of another protection, known as Temporary Protective Status (TPS), for Venezuelans shielded by a 2023 designation of the program. TPS covers hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans throughout the country and tens of thousands of migrants in California.
“I pay my taxes, I do everything according to the law, but it seems like it isn’t enough,” said Gina, 33, who also asked that her last name not be used for fear of drawing authorities’ attention. She fled political persecution and unrest in Venezuela and is here under Temporary Protective Status. “Every day is uncertain. It isn’t fair that people live in fear, much less when they’re obeying the law.”
A memo from Noem explaining the decision cited “notable improvements in several areas” of Venezuelan life, including crime, and argued that it was “contrary to the national interest” for Venezuelans to remain in the U.S.
Currently, the U.S. Department of State has a “do not travel” advisory for Venezuela, due in part to a “high risk” of crime, wrongful detentions and civil unrest.
“The people of this country want these dirtbags out,” said Noem in an interview with Fox News, citing concerns with Venezuelan gang members entering the United States. “This is part of our plan to make sure that we’re protecting America, keeping it safe again, just like President Trump promised.”
About Humanitarian Parole, the Department of Homeland Security said in a statement that “The Biden-Harris Administration abused the humanitarian parole program to indiscriminately allow 1.5 million migrants to enter our country.”
Several studies have found that crime rates remain stagnant or decrease as the immigrant population increases. Both Temporary Protective Status and Humanitarian Parole require fingerprinting and background checks.
Regardless of the reasoning, the rollback of TPS will go into effect on April 7 for over 300,000 Venezuelans. Some immigration lawyers expect the end of CHNV, the program protecting Carmen, to be effective immediately once finalized in the coming weeks
For many under these programs, that means that overnight they would go from being here legally to unlawfully present.
Under another Trump order, those who have been here for less than two years could be subject to being rapidly detained and deported, sometimes over a matter of days, if they lack other legal protections.
“It’s very unprecedented,” said Reena Arya, Director of immigration Legal Services at Jewish Family and Community Services East Bay. “Revoking (this status), taking it away from people who are living on it — that in itself is cruel.”
The end of the protections would also remove the right to work for those under the program, potentially requiring them to rely on public assistance.
Additionally, the programs were meant to decrease illegal immigration and discourage migrants from taking dangerous routes to the states, such as through the Darien Gap or the Caribbean Sea.
Slashing these programs could result in an increase in immigrants relying on public services and push more to come illegally, notes Catherine Seitz, legal director at the Immigration Institute of the Bay Area.
“It’s very illogical,” said Seitz. “They just want to survive. They would rather do it the legal way. … To just close the door in every way. It’s not the right thing to do.”
While the executive branch has broad discretion over these programs, some note that the way the Trump administration has made these moves provides leeway for legal challenges. The ending of TPS comes after the Biden administration extended protections less than a month ago.
“There is no precedent for the removal of humanitarian status in this way,” said Emi MacLean, senior staff attorney for the American Civil Liberties Union of Northern California, of the decision on TPS. “We think that is unconscionable and may also be illegal.”
Still, in the time between losing status and court decisions, migrants under these programs could be vulnerable. In the meantime, multiple immigration lawyers interviewed by this news organization recommend migrants find legal help, apply for asylum if they have a case, and familiarize themselves with their rights.
Until then, Carmen has decided to vie for asylum, holding out hope that she can be safe and one day bring her family with her.
“You can’t know that from one day to the next you won’t be welcome … you can’t expect that,” she said. “But we keep fighting and we keep hoping to God that there is a future.”
Caelyn Pender contributed reporting to this story.