For Farah Larrieux, the United States is more than a place of residence. It is where she rebuilt her life.
A resident since 2005 and a Temporary Protected Status (TPS) holder since the program was designated for Haiti following the 2010 earthquake, Larrieux sees herself as proof that TPS works. But with the program set to expire on Feb. 3, 2026, everything she has built is now in jeopardy.
"I’m one of the immigrants who contribute to the development of the United States, that the Trump administration wants to deport," Larrieux said during a vigil for the 16th anniversary of Haiti’s 2010 earthquake, hosted by Family Action Network Movement (FANM).
“TPS has changed my life,” she said. “The program has given me the opportunity to continue to build my life, develop my personal capacity and my career as a communication strategist and a social entrepreneur.”
Larrieux is one of approximately 350,000 Haitians whose legal right to live and work in the U.S. hangs in the balance after the Department of Homeland Security announced in November 2025 that Haiti no longer meets the TPS criteria. The administration argued that extending the designation would be “incompatible with national interests,” urging beneficiaries to prepare to leave the country or use the CBP Home app to “self-deport” — a program offering a free flight and a $3,000 stipend.
Living in a countdown
The looming deadline has sent shockwaves through South Florida, particularly in Miami-Dade County, home to the nation's largest Haitian diaspora. An estimated 130,000 Haiti-born residents and nearly 300,000 with Haitian roots live here, making Creole Florida’s third most spoken language.
At FANM, lead organizer Paul Christian Namphy said the dominant emotion is fear.
“It means great uncertainty,” Namphy said. “There is a lawsuit that has been launched to stop the administration from turning thousands of people's and families' lives upside down, but we don't know how that's going to go in court.”
Ongoing lawsuits, including Miot et al. v. Trump, argue that U.S. Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem violated administrative law and the Constitution by terminating Haiti’s TPS designation effective Feb. 3, 2026.
Dinah Escarment — a community advocate whose office, Escarment Multiservices, helps with immigration, and a Florida House candidate for the state’s 108th District — describes a community retreating into the shadows.
“They're telling me that they don't go to church anymore," Escarment said. "Because they have fear, the one thing that's supposed to protect them and keep them safe, they feel like they don't even have access to that anymore."
For Michael Lambert, a TPS holder in the U.S. for nearly five decades, the situation takes a severe mental toll.
“I’m a nervous wreck,” he said. “Every day, I look outside, I hear sirens, and I’m thinking they’re coming for me.”
According to Namphy, families face three impossible choices as the deadline approaches:
"Are you going to stay in the shadows, in fear, where at any moment anything can happen to you? Are you going to try to go to a third country? Or are you going to go to Haiti under very difficult conditions?"
Lambert represents the deep integration of TPS holders. He sold property in Haiti to build a life here, only to face losing it all. When asked about his plans following Feb. 3, Lambert said he feels he has no choice.
“If it is what it is, I would just have to go back to my country and try to avoid getting killed,” leaving his kids and wife behind, he said. “I don’t know, my marriage might end up being gone too, because out of sight.”
Reality on the ground
The U.S. government’s assertion that conditions in Haiti have improved enough to resume deportations stands in stark contrast to reports from human rights organizations. Since the 2021 assassination of President Jovenel Moïse, armed gangs have seized control of large parts of the country.
District 2 Miami-Dade Commissioner Marleine Bastien emphasized the deterioration of the island nation.
"It would have been encouraging to tell you that after 16 years, things are better,” she said. “Haiti is 10 times worse off than it was in 2010.”
She noted gangs control 90% of the capital with "war weapons.” The U.N. human rights office reported at least 2,680 killings in early 2025, hundreds kidnapped, and sexual violence and child recruitment on the rise, while the International Organization for Migration found the number of displaced residents climbed to 1.4 million by October 2025.
“Young women and girls do not think about if they’re going to be raped,” Bastien said. “They think about when they’re going to be raped. This is a country at war.”
Recently, the Associated Pressreported that Doctors Without Borders suspended services at a Port-au-Prince clinic due to escalating violence.
“If TPS was given because of the earthquake and now the country is in worse shape, how can we plan to deport people who have lived their lives here, who work here?” Bastien asked.
A broken system
Larrieux said the deadline is only the latest chapter in a “broken” immigration system. She described a past residency interview that she said derailed her life.
"She (the immigration officer) coerced my husband at that time and forced him to sign a document to withdraw his petition, which could have granted me the permanent residency," Larrieux recalled.
Though the agent eventually interviewed Larrieux separately and "finally realized that she had made a mistake,” Larrieux said officials lacked the "moral conscience to fix the mistake," making the damage irreversible.
“It affected me for years, to the point that I fell into depression. I lost my hair, and I even became suicidal,” Larrieux said.
Most recently, the administration ended family-reunification parole programs and halted all immigration processes, including adjustment of status, for Haitians and nationals of 15 other countries.
“We are not undocumented by choice. We have been denied immigration reform by legislators, some of whom are children of immigrants who have benefited from immigration reform in the past,” Larrieux said.
Economic fallout
Beyond the human toll, advocates warn of severe economic consequences.
“Without immigrants, South Florida doesn’t exist,” Namphy said. “Immigrants are essential to our way of life, to our economy, to hotels, restaurants, and basic health structures.”
Tessa Petit, executive director of the Florida Immigrant Coalition, highlighted the financial stakes.
"Over 113,000 Haitian TPS [holders] are in the workforce in Florida alone," Petit said.
She noted that they contribute $1.3 billion in state and local taxes, while 63,000 TPS homeowners add $19 billion to housing values.
Escarment says the labor market is already contracting.
"A lot of my clients have lost their jobs since last year," she noted. "The employers are like, 'You're not going to be able to work here long, then I'll have to hire someone else.'"
What’s next?
Community leaders are demanding legislative courage. Namphy criticized local officials who claim to support constituents while cooperating with federal deportation efforts.
“They have a choice now. Many of them are choosing to harm our communities," Namphy said.
Escarment, eyeing a seat in the state legislature, believes a pragmatic, financial approach is the only language the administration understands. She proposes a "pay for status" model through which long-term residents pay a fee to regularize their status.
"The administration hears money, so we have to talk in their language," Escarment argued. "Think about all these people. It's a win-win because we're going to try to pay for it anyway.”
Larrieux called on the White House to recognize immigrant contributions.
“We deserve a pathway to an adjustment of status,” Larrieux said. “The United States is a land built by immigrants and served by immigrants. We immigrants also make America great.”
