Haitians on TPS get a reprieve but no relief

In the chaotic media environment that characterizes our current era, very often the story that completely alters one person's life does not even register to someone else.

Many people may not know that on Feb. 2 the hopes and prayers of hundreds of thousands were answered in a moment when U.S. District Judge Ana Reyes temporarily blocked the Trump administration's attempt to remove Temporary Protected Status from around 330,000 Haitian individuals living in the United States.

Without these protections, originally put in place after the brutal earthquake that devastated Haiti in 2010, all these people would have no legal status. They would be completely open to federal bullying, mistreatment, even deportation. About 5,000 Haitian TPS holders downstate suddenly would be living as second-class citizens. Long Island's Haitian community has almost 50,000 people in all, with around 29,000 in Nassau County and more than 20,000 in Suffolk, according to 2024 U.S. Census Bureau estimates.

Haiti is in complete economic, social and political disarray. There has been no functional government since the latest president was assassinated in 2021, armed groups control an estimated 85% of the capital, essential services have collapsed, hospitals are totally overwhelmed. As it stands, Haiti is not a place you would want to live or have your family live. To send people back there against their will — people who contribute meaningfully to our society — is inhumane and pointedly cruel.

The consequences of this would tear at the fabric of Long Island. More than 20% of Haitian TPS holders work in health care. Speaking as a health care worker, their sudden removal would cripple our hospitals and nursing homes and have a significant negative effect on patients' well-being, with canceled surgeries and seniors not waking up to their favorite caregivers.

In the hospital where I work there are already staff shortages impairing workflow and reducing the quality of care that patients are receiving. People have quit their jobs because they're afraid they'll be picked up by ICE and sent back to Haiti. Patients with uncertain immigrant status are skipping appointments, at great personal risk to their own health and the livelihood of their families.

This kind of uncertainty is unlivable. Yet every day people are living with it. With no idea what the future holds, whether they even have anything that we — divorced from the realities of endless, unpredictable violence and inescapable poverty — would call a future. It is a constant and unrelenting terror that people feel in their bones.

Judge Reyes' ruling — in which she decried the Trump administration's senseless, racist rhetoric — was a welcome miracle for the many Haitian community members with uncertain immigration status, but the administration filed an appeal last week. Haitian families and workers could still have the ground ripped out from under their feet.

We must advocate for a final end to this misinformed policy, and beyond that to create a path toward permanent status and even citizenship for TPS holders. The alternative is separating families, or sending American-born children to a war zone. 

Share the realities of your Haitian neighbors and say we will not stand idly while you are threatened. To our Haitian brothers and sisters on Long Island say, we see you. Your home is here.

Safety, family and dignity are not temporary. Our commitment to our Haitian community must not be either.

This guest essay reflects the views of Claire Leon, of Valley Stream, an operating room technician who is originally from Haiti.