Asylum

Beneficiary Spotlight: Refugees from the Americas

by Brigid Rowlings, LHI Communications Director

Images from shelters on the southern border of the United States that LHI supports.

Refugees crossing the southern border of the United States has long been a prominent issue in the American media. It has gained more attention recently as the number of asylum seekers and refugees arriving in the United States has increased, and as officials grapple with repealing the Covid-era Title 42, which has allowed the U.S. government to quickly turn refugees back to prevent the spread of Covid 19.

While differences of opinion about immigration are real, and conversations about immigration vital, the facts remain: People are being forced to flee their homes. They come with very little. When they arrive, conditions for refugees on both sides of the border are harsh. Many of those hoping to enter the United States wait along the border in makeshift encampments with little access to food, water, and sanitation. Once refugees and asylum seekers arrive in the United States, border shelters and charitable organizations are able to offer some assistance, but the sheer number of arrivals puts a strain on their resources.

Why do refugees from countries like El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Haiti, Nicaragua, and Venezuela risk such danger and hardship? The answer can only be that conditions in their home countries are so bad that anything else seems better.

What is compelling people to leave their home countries? We could write extensive pieces on countries like El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Haiti, and Nicaragua. And, in fact we did publish an entire blog post on the factors pushing people to leave Venezuela. But, to give you an overview of the major issues, we will confine ourselves to outlining the major issues and providing you with just a few specific examples.

Political Instability and Oppressive Regimes

Many people seeking asylum in the United States are fleeing oppressive governments. For example, since 2007, Nicaraguan president Daniel Ortega has ruled the country with an increasingly authoritarian hand. Freedoms of individual people and the press have become more and more limited, and Ortega has even jailed his political opponents. 

As we detailed in an earlier blog post, Venezuela president Nicolas Maduro ensured his own re-election by barring opponents from running. Since then, Venezuelans report continued persecution of those who oppose Maduro, including protestors. 

The political situation is arguably worse in Haiti. The 2021 assassination of President Jovenel Moïse created a power vacuum that has paved the way for gangs. 

 

Eduardo shows some of the scars that remain after he was attacked by local gang members with machetes for not agreeing to sell drugs through his family’s fruit stand in Honduras. Photo provided by Their Story is Our Story.

 

Gang Violence

In the absence of any strong central government in Haiti, around 200 gangs have established influence across Haiti, including controlling an estimated 60% of Haiti’s capital, Port-au-Prince. These gangs have committed acts of physical and sexual violence. They have forced people out of their homes and blocked access to safe drinking water, food and health care. 

Gang violence is also endemic in places like El Salvador and Honduras. In 2019, in partnership with Their Story Is Our Story, we told you about Eduardo, who was attacked by gang members after he refused to sell drugs from his family’s fruit stand in Honduras. Fleeing often seems like the only option for people like Eduardo who are threatened, attacked, and even killed if they refuse to pay, join, or do the bidding of local gangs.

Economic Instability

Unsurprisingly, in places where governments are not stable, neither are economies. In Nicaragua and Venezuela, inflation, declining wages, and rampant unemployment have left people unable to support themselves and their families. Essentials like food, clothing, and medication are often in short supply.

An estimated 60% of Guatemalans live in poverty. This is partly due to a decade of “land grabs”. Small farmers in Guatemala have been driven off their land by more powerful people who want to develop their land into larger, industrial farms. Indigenous Mayan people living in the Guatemalan highlands have been particularly susceptible to these government-sanctioned “land grabs”. When targeted communities protest the seizure of their ancestral lands, leaders can be arrested or assassinated. 

Natural Disasters

Farmers in Guatemala have not only suffered from land grabs, but also from droughts, floods, hurricanes and cold snaps. Guatemala is not alone. According to this Washington Post article, Latin America and the Caribbean experienced 175 natural disasters between 2020 and 2022. These events have led to loss of life, damage to housing and infrastructure, crop damage and food shortages, and lack of access to clean water.

 

Pallets of aid on their way from the LHI Aid Warehouse in Utah to Team Brownsville in Texas.

 

How LHI Helps

LHI works in partnership with several shelters in places like Texas and Arizona to provide aid to refugees and asylum seekers. One partner, Team Brownsville, told us in December: “We are receiving up to 600 people every day and the need is so great…Our greatest need is for blankets,warm clothing and shoes. We quickly and gratefully gave out all the jackets, hoodies, winter kits, socks, underwear and shoes that you sent. We tried to hold back some for when it got even colder, but as the numbers grew, that became impossible.” Thanks to our donors and volunteers at the LHI Aid Warehouse in Utah, we were able to send more aid to Team Brownsville.

To learn more about LHI’s Border Aid program, click here.

Why Are So Many Venezuelan Seeking Asylum in the United States?

by: Brigid Rowlings, LHI Communications Director

Last week, I had the opportunity to visit a Humanities class at Fenway High School in Boston. The teacher had tasked the students with ranking the rights in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights from most to least important. Of course, all of the rights are important, so you may think this was a strange exercise. But as a former History and Social Studies teacher, I knew the Fenway High teacher had assigned this task so that students would read the Declaration closely and think about it critically.

As I was walking around the classroom and talking to students about how they’d ranked the rights and why, I kept being drawn to Article 14—the article that grants people the right to seek asylum in other countries when they are being persecuted in their own country. I think that article stood out to me because just a few weeks ago, a group of Venezuelan migrants were flown from Texas to Martha’s Vineyard, a small island off the coast of my home state of Massachusetts. This hit even closer to home because when I heard the news, my family was on our way to our annual September weekend on the Vineyard.

To be honest, at the time, I did not know a ton about why Venezuelans were seeking refuge in the United States. So, I started to do some research. I was surprised to learn that Venezuelans make up the second largest group of people who have fled their homes, just behind Syrians, whose country has been devastated by a civil war that has been raging since 2011. I learned that since 2013, the Venezuelan economy has been in freefall, and that today, inflation is so bad that today, a plain cup of coffee can cost 7.8 million bolivares. That is $9.60!

Venezuela was once a Latin American country on the rise. Its huge crude oil reserves had once positioned it as one of the world’s fastest growing economies. But, a series of events, which can be traced back to the administration of its former president, Hugo Chàvez, changed all that. Chàvez spent lavishly on social welfare projects aimed at reducing poverty. That sounds great, right? Unfortunately, while spending a lot to improve education, healthcare, and housing, the Chàvez administration failed to invest in national infrastructure, including oil pipelines. Eventually this caught up with Chàvez, and oil production declined just as oil prices fell.

Chàvez’s successor, Nicolàs Maduro, responded to the country’s economic turmoil and challenges to his administration by arresting political opponents and journalists. When Maduro was elected for a second term in 2018, the National Assembly claimed his election was neither free nor fair. Maduro opponents were barred from running, and some even fled the country in fear of being imprisoned. The Venezuelan constitution calls for the leader of the National Assembly, who at the time was a man named Juan Guiadò, to step in as acting president in this situation. More than 50 countries, including the United States, recognize Guiadò as the legitimate president. Maduro, however, refuses to yield.

This political standoff has not made life any easier for Venezuelans. Today, few Venezuelans can afford to feed their families because of high food prices. The hospitals that remain open are short on medicine and can’t count on regular access to electricity and water. Venezuelans report continued persecution of those who oppose Maduro, including protestors. 

I now understand why 6.8 million Venezuelans have left their country since 2014. Most people have sought refuge in other Latin American or Caribbean countries. But some have made the journey to the southern border of the United States hoping to be granted asylum.

As a mom, I can’t imagine living in a situation where I couldn’t feed my children or count on the health care system to care for them when they are ill. I can’t imagine turning on the tap praying that water will flow. So I empathize with Venezuelans who are seeking refuge from a completely untenable situation and I’m proud to work for an organization like Lifting Hands International that provides aid to migrants with the help of the border shelters we work with.

LHI’s founder and director Hayley Smith and COO Walker Frahm visited shelters along the border that receive and distribute aid from LHI. Here, Hayley poses with artwork outside a shelter in Tucson, AZ.

American Soldiers Meant Freedom to Me

Contributor: Twila Bird, TSOS
Photographer: Kristi Burton, TSOS


This is another installment from our partnership with Their Story is Our Story. Back by popular demand, it’s Marta! The more we get to know her, the more amazing her life story becomes...

Marta served for years overseas, including time in Iraq, fulfilling her childhood dream of becoming an American soldier.

Marta served for years overseas, including time in Iraq, fulfilling her childhood dream of becoming an American soldier.

Since I was a little girl in Honduras, I’ve always admired the U.S. military. Where I was born, there was a U.S. military base. We got hit a lot with hurricanes and natural disasters, and American soldiers were the first ones to respond with humanitarian aid. They were heroes to me. I would just stare at them and think, “Wow, what does it feel like to be part of the greatest army in the world?”

Then I got pregnant at the age of 13. And pregnant again at 17. And I was like, “This is not what I want.” I was always looking at the U.S.; for me it meant freedom. And I was like, “I’m leaving.” So, I grabbed my three-year-old daughter and with my six-month-pregnant belly we started for the U.S. My goal was Arizona. I had an older sister there who was a U.S. citizen. It took us about 10 days to get from Honduras to the American border by bus, lots of little buses.

When we came to the border in Nogales, there was a tunnel. They told me to just go in this tunnel, walk a little way, and there’s the U.S. It wasn’t a secret. There were some metal bars. That’s how people got in — they cut the metal bars. They told me I would see holes in the wall and on the third hole, that was the U.S. So, with my daughter, we went through the tunnel. It was really, really dark. I remember it was wet and filthy. Now that I think back, I believe it was like a drain.

When we got to the place where the U.S. was, my daughter climbed up and the man who was helping me pushed me from behind through the hole while I held onto my daughter above and because of my pregnant belly, I was stuck. [Laughing] I was like half in the U.S. and half in Mexico, but I finally made it through. I looked up and there was a MacDonald’s. And that’s when I was caught by border patrol. It was like, “Hello, I’m here!”

When they processed me in Tuscon, they asked me why I wanted to come here, and I said, “I came because I want to join the United States Army.” They thought it was a joke then, when they realized it wasn’t, they told me I’d have to get a green card first, which would take 15–20 years. And they were not kidding. It took many years. I arrived in 1992 and got my green card in July 2008. A month later, I was in basic training in the United States Army. I served for almost 10 years, part of that time in Iraq.

It all went back to my childhood experience. I wanted to be like the American soldiers I saw who arrived and saved the day and represented freedom. To me, Americans were so nice, so giving and compassionate; that’s the idea that I had. And that’s why today I help give humanitarian aid to other Central Americans who are trying to achieve what I have.


We Love What We Do

Contributor: Twila Bird, TSOS
Photographer: Kristi Burton, TSOS


We’re back with a new story from our partnership with Their Story is Our Story, once again featuring Israel and Marta!

Israel pours lemonade for Megan Carson, from Their Story Is Our Story, when she interviewed him at his Arizona home.

Israel pours lemonade for Megan Carson, from Their Story Is Our Story, when she interviewed him at his Arizona home.

Israel, from Mexico, and Marta, his wife from Honduras, are productive members of their community and committed volunteers in helping those who are following in their footsteps.

Israel: I walked 100 miles alone through the Sonoran Desert to get to the U.S. when I was 18 years old. It took me over a week. I didn’t see anyone during that time. After three days, my water ran out. I came across water tanks for animals but the water was green so I used my shirt as a filter. Also, sometimes at the bottom of the hills, the sand is dry but if you start digging and wait a minute, water will come out. I came to join my four brothers who have a cabinet making business in Phoenix. I began working with them. Our family is from Morelos, Mexico.

Israel and Marta began helping Central American asylum seekers last fall when families began coming in greater numbers to the United States. Since then, they’ve hosted over 500 people in their home. Once, they harbored a group of over 50 at one time. Marta explained how they managed to transport and offer amenities to so many at once.

Marta: That day, we went to the bus station around 3 p.m. and got the ladies with their kids. Late that night, Israel said, “Let’s go check on the men and see if another organization picked them up.” So we went around 11 p.m. and they were still there. A few of the men came over and started saying, “Please, help me. Give me just a little corner in your house.” And Israel said, “Okay, I’m going to take you.” But then they all were coming. And I said, “What do we do?” And he said, “I don’t know, but I cannot leave anyone.” And then I said, “Okay.” And he said, “We’re going to take everyone.” And he put 25 people in his truck — 25 people in his truck! I was inside and we had like 10 kids inside the cab and we put about 15 dads in the back.

Marta: The police were following us and I’m like, “We’re done. We’re done. They’re calling the helicopters. You know we look like human traffickers.” [Laughing] “We are done!” And one of the dads, he said, “No we just have to pray.” And I said, “Do you know how to pray?” He said something like, “Yes, we just call for the blood of Jesus to cover us and to blind the police officers’ eyes.” I said, “Okay, do that.” [Laughing] So he did it. And I think we were followed for about 2 or 3 miles but nothing happened. When we got home, the ladies started hugging and saying, “Oh my God! We’ve been praying for you guys. That somebody would help you.”

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Israel: To get everyone cleaned up, we have this enclosed trailer out back that we use to transport the cabinets. We got a big plastic container and we put water in it. We set up a fire and then we got a pot like where we cook tamales. I had the men use the pot to heat the water for the ladies. And then we put the container in the trailer and had them go in one by one. That’s how they took showers with warm water—it was winter time.

Marta: Gather them up and bring them. We are capable. And when I say “we,” I’m saying the community. A lot of non-profit organizations. You know we are ready. We are ready to provide them with a shower and clothing, food, you know, whatever they need. We are ready. We are not tired and we will continue doing it. We love what we do.

Bubble Therapy

Contributor: Twila Bird, TSOS
Photographer: Twila Bird, TSOS

Here’s another story from our partnership with Their Story is Our Story. After escaping gang violence in their home countries, enduring long and difficult journeys up through Mexico, and being released from dreadfully overcrowded detention centers, something as simple as bubbles can bring back joy for children seeking asylum with their families.

Without complaint, asylum seekers sat quietly in rows of chairs in the church sanctuary waiting for instructions and assistance, and patiently enduring—sometimes enjoying—the bubble-blowing exuberance of the children.

Without complaint, asylum seekers sat quietly in rows of chairs in the church sanctuary waiting for instructions and assistance, and patiently enduring—sometimes enjoying—the bubble-blowing exuberance of the children.

Bubbles—floating, soaring, then bursting and splatting all those beneath with dribblets of syrupy liquid—provided a needed diversion for Central American children spending their first hours of relative freedom in America. 

The children and their families are seeking asylum in the U.S. after fleeing gang violence and poverty in Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras. They stepped off a U.S. Department of Homeland Security bus only hours earlier when armed ICE agents dropped them off in the parking lot of an Arizona church not far from the border. The asylum seekers had been held for days in a U.S. border detention center where conditions were abysmally grim.

At the border, families were separated; men and teenage boys were grouped apart from women and children. Some had been held in conditions so crowded there was no room to sit or lie down. Their close proximity to each other provided needed body warmth in icy cold, windowless rooms. Water was limited to one bottle per day. Daily food rations were often a single, uncooked frozen burrito. The only bathroom facility was one toilet in full view. 

Whether families crossed the border illegally or lawfully presented themselves at a port of entry, ICE is required by law to accept asylum seekers. The government must then determine whether they have a credible fear about returning home. Homeland Security simply can't hold all those who are awaiting hearings and appeals, which can take months. So last fall, ICE began to release asylum-seeking families by the busload in cities within a few hours of the border. 

When the passengers pictured here exited their bus at the receiving church, they had little or no money, didn’t know anyone in Arizona, and had nowhere to stay the night. All each person owned fit into a backpack. They were heartened by church and community volunteers who welcomed them with food, mobile shower facilities (on specially designed trucks), clean clothes, and assistance with travel arrangements to their next destinations. The newly arrived families were hesitant, humble, and grateful. They expressed their relief for the unexpected help after long, arduous journeys up through Mexico and dreadful detention center incarceration. 

Within hours (or sometimes a few days) the next portion of their journeys began—travel by bus or plane to sponsors scattered around the country. 

Despite news of America’s increasingly unwelcoming government policies, the families moved forward with the hope that what lies ahead can’t be worse than what they left behind.



My Home is Your Home

Contributor: Twila Bird, TSOS
Photographer: Kristi Burton, TSOS

The next story from our partnership with Their Story is Our Story highlights the kindness and generosity of a family who decided to open their home to hundreds of Central American asylum seekers.

The welcome sign on the front pillar of Israel and Marta’s home isn’t just for show. They exemplify the saying “Mi Casa Es Su Casa” (My Home is Your Home). During the last nine months they have welcomed over 500 asylum seekers into their home.

The welcome sign on the front pillar of Israel and Marta’s home isn’t just for show. They exemplify the saying “Mi Casa Es Su Casa” (My Home is Your Home). During the last nine months they have welcomed over 500 asylum seekers into their home.

When Marta was asked how she decided to get involved with helping asylum seekers, she replied:

Well, last December, it was all over the news. We have moms from Central America needing clothing — needing this, needing that. And my daughter said, “Mom, let’s go!” So we went to this address. We went to a church where asylum seekers were being dropped off by the busloads and it was chaos. My daughter, who brought some donations, unloaded them and said, “I’m leaving.” And I said, “Take my car, because I’m not leaving. I’m going to help here.” I think we arrived at like 10 a.m. on a Saturday, and at 10 p.m., I was still there.

Now I’m working regularly at a church here. We receive people there every Thursday. We also pick up people at the bus station [where ICE sometimes drop them off]. When the buses arrive, we all line up on each side of the walkway. And then we clap and say, “Bienvenidos! Bienvenidos!” That’s when freedom really begins to set in for them.

We put them in the sanctuary at the church. We explain what the process is at that point. We feed them. We get one of them to pray. And then we start making calls — making connections with their U.S. sponsors. And then we get clothes for them and put them through the showers. Once they’ve been clothed, fed, and showered, then we just wait for the confirmations and when arrangements are firm, we take them to either the bus or the airport for them to continue their journey. Some of them leave the same day.

Sometimes the church says we can only be there for 24 or 48 hours, so we look for host families. Once we received a hundred people who came late and needed host families right away. We ended up with four families at our house, each from a different country — a Guatemalan family, a Honduran family, a Salvadoran family, and a Nicaraguan family.

Israel [Marta’s husband] brought them home — I was still at the church helping out — and he told them, “We’re not going to be here. You’re more than welcome to do whatever you want. Our house is your house.” And then he left. When we came back, one of the ladies said, “Look! I made soup!” And I said, “What kind of soup?” She said, “Chicken soup!” I said, “Did Israel go and buy chicken?” She said, “No, one of the chickens from over there [pointing to a section of our yard].” So that was one of our pet chickens in the soup. I didn’t want to disappoint the lady. I mean, oh my gosh she ate my pet, but I didn’t want to make her feel bad so I ate the chicken. But now when the families come, I say, “You can eat whatever you want, just don’t mess with the chickens!”

We’ve been doing this for the last nine months and during that time we’ve had over 500 in our home.

Seeking Asylum is a Legal Right

Contributor: Twila Bird, TSOS
Photographer: Kristi Burton, TSOS

This information comes from our continued partnership with Their Story is Our Story, and explains how Central Americans coming to the US have the legal right to seek asylum here.

Asylum seekers freshly released from border detention centers wait for travel arrangements to be made for continued journeys to scattered U.S. destinations.

Asylum seekers freshly released from border detention centers wait for travel arrangements to be made for continued journeys to scattered U.S. destinations.

These families, escaping gang violence and persecution in Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador, have undertaken a dangerous journey to seek safety in the United States. They are shown here in a church in Arizona where a Homeland Security bus dropped them off after being processed in border detention centers. The families are on their way to destinations scattered around the country where sponsors are waiting to receive them. Each individual will have future opportunity to make their cases for asylum before an administrative judge.

Seeking asylum is a legal right. Asylum is a form of protection granted to individuals who can demonstrate that they are unable or unwilling to return to their country because of persecution or a well-founded fear of persecution on account of race, religion, nationality, or membership in a particular social group. The right to seek asylum was incorporated into international law following the atrocities of World War II. Congress adopted key provisions of the Geneva Refugee Convention into U.S. immigration law when it passed the Refugee Act of 1980. (For more information, see the International Rescue Committee’s website: Rescue.org.)


Elizabeth

Contributor: Megan Carson
Photographer: Kristi Burton

The third story from our partnership with Their Story is Our Story comes from Elizabeth, whose home in Central America was shot at by local gangs because her daughter would not join them.

“I had to go and confront them... and I was able to get my daughter back, but they killed the two other girls. To think of the danger it was to leave my country, to come here, is less than to know that my daughter could have died that day.”

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My name is Elizabeth. I am a single mother. I have four children. I worked. In my country, jobs at my age—I am 36 years old—are difficult. I didn’t have the opportunity to study. In my country, childhood is short. We have to start working at an early age. In my case, I worked from the time I was twelve. None of my children have worked at the same age that I did. I have been the head of the household, the breadwinner.

But, work is scarce and then there are the gangs.

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When my daughter was growing up, they started to harass her. On one occasion, they followed her and took her out of school and told her that they wanted her to be part of their gang. I was working and the teacher called me to tell me that she was pulled out with two other female classmates. I had to go and confront them... and I was able to get my daughter back, but they killed the two other girls. To think of the danger it was to leave my country, to come here, is less than to know that my daughter could have died that day.

The circumstances of things is what made us have to leave the country without looking back, not because we want to. I told you that I confronted them. That same night, they came to attack me. They shot at my house. I had to leave as if I were the criminal, not them. I left with my children. I went to a town with my family, leaning on other people. I spoke with my family and told them, “I can’t. I can’t. I have to take my daughter out of here.”

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Editorial Note: Violent, competing gangs recruit youth in Central American countries and often, if they choose not to join, they kill them. The homicide rate there is among the highest in the world. Most murders are never punished. In recent years, only 4% have ended in a conviction. In the past, Central American youth traveled north in search of the American Dream; today they leave to escape violence and crime.



Eduardo: Hope is Strong

The second story form our partnership with Their Story is Our Story follows Eduardo as he escapes with his family from gang violence and death threats in Honduras.

“…I heard them looking and shouting, ‘He’s here, find him, find him!’ and using bad words, and they had pistols and machetes to kill me...”

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Eduardo: I am from Honduras. It was a quiet day at my house. We lived peacefully. I had a business. I worked at my family’s fruit stand. I would say it was going well. Gang members told me they wanted me to sell drugs in the middle of my fruit. I said, “No.” Then they said they would kill me, my family, and my children if I didn’t do it. Again I said, “No.” Then one night 7 or 8 of them followed me with machetes and pistols. They followed me to kill me but thanks be to God they didn’t get me. I ran and ran and hid in a sewer. I got down into a sewer. Out of fear I got in. I heard them looking and shouting, “He’s here, find him, find him!” and using bad words, and they had pistols and machetes to kill me. They went to the house to find my wife and two children but they didn’t find them because they were with my mother.

Later they came and found me and did damage. [Eduardo pulled up his shirt sleeves and pant legs to show multiple machete-wound scars.] They were going to kill me. They also had pistols. But thanks to God they didn’t kill me.   

Delinquency is very strong there. The gangs want to recruit you and sometimes when someone doesn’t want to, they kill them. I’m telling you, my group of [childhood] friends — [he used the term “camada,” which literally translates as litter] — there were 27 of us and now only three are left. All the others were killed, or are in jail, on drugs, or in gangs. From what I’ve seen we are only three with a life. The rest died from drugs and gangs and all that. And for that reason, I left my country.

So, then we came to Mexico. But it is the same in Mexico. I would say it is a plague. All of Central America has gangs, people who want to control others. In Mexico, I was a barber. I was working. And from Honduras they [gang members]came to Mexico and in Mexico they did all this [he pointed to his mouth with teeth missing]. They grabbed me. They hit me. I didn’t have peace or safety. I had planned to stay in Mexico but if they were going to get me there, there was nothing left but for me to come here.

I have a skill. I can cut hair. But I can’t work if I don’t have a license. Here you have to have a permit to work and to get it you have to struggle and risk oneself because sometimes the government believes you or doesn’t believe you. It is true there is a lot of delinquency in Honduras. I don’t dispute that. But just as there are bad people, there are also us humble people who like to work. We like to get ahead. I don’t want my children to suffer what I suffered. I want to get ahead, start a barbershop, start my business, and show the government they won’t be supporting me. If we can get the papers arranged, we will show the government what we can do. I had to work day and night I would work day and night so that my family is cared for. If my family is ok, then I’m ok.   

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Because I’m not yet 21, I have a lot of future ahead and she — (pointing to Arianna, his wife)— is only 19. Despite the fact that we are very young parents, I would say this has given us a lot of maturity. We want our children to have a better future, to study, to learn, that they become great people. I have many dreams. She is one of my dreams (pointing to his daughter). She is eager. She says she wants to be a doctor or a lawyer. Wow! That is a lot of inspiration for me, to work, day by day. It gives me drive.  

Interviewer: Hope is strong.

Eduardo:  It’s the last thing you lose.

Soon after Eduardo arrived in America, he got a job at a barber shop but three days later, by tracking him with his ankle bracelet, ICE agents showed up and told the owner she would be prosecuted if she allowed him to continue working. Now he’s jobless and has no way to support his family.

Partner Spotlight: Their Story is Our Story

We are thrilled to announce our partnership with Their Story is Our Story, an organization that is giving a voice to asylum seekers and refugees by collecting and sharing their stories and images, revealing the individuals behind the labels. 

TSOS helps refugees tell their stories in a way that is intimate and emotionally authentic. The first story from our partnership tells about the arrival of a young mother and her son at one of the border shelters where asylum seekers are dropped off after being released from detention centers.


A Single Backpack

Contributor: Kelsey Royer, TSOS
Photographer: Kristi Burton, TSOS


A single backpack contains all the belongings this Guatemalan mother possesses after her arrival at an Arizona church the day of her release from a border detention center. She and her son were among fifty asylum seekers from Central American countries processed by ICE, fitted with ankle monitors, and released to await their asylum claims in court.

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The manner of their release was abrupt. After exiting the detention center, which some called the “icebox” because it was kept so cold, they were placed on a Homeland Security bus, driven for several hours to the church, and dropped off. They did not have money or phones and had not showered in weeks.

Unlike this young mother with her backpack, others arrived with their meager belongings inside plastic “homeland security” bags. When asked, many were unaware of where they were or how far it was to where they were going. They each had sponsors (usually extended family members) located in various cities around the country but they had not had the opportunity or means to communicate with them or form travel plans.

Remarkably, this woman and her companions were welcomed by church and community volunteers who greeted them with warm smiles as well as access to mobile shower facilities, food, and clothing. They also connected them with their sponsors by phone and made travel arrangements. Most of the asylum seekers were on their way to their ultimate destinations within 48 hours.

This Homeland Security bus drop-off scenario is repeated multiple times every week in locations near the U.S. southern border. Though their detention center experience is often horrific and inhumane for asylum seekers, countless church congregations, NGOs, and community volunteers rise to administer to their needs and assist in their continuing journeys. 


Aid supplies donated to LHI are shipped to partner shelters like the one in the story above, where generous nonprofit organizations and churches provide additional services including warm meals, showers, and a place to stay for a short time.

Will you help by donating aid supplies for delivery to these shelters?

CLICK HERE TO DONATE TODAY.