Living in the Shadows: Undocumented Immigrants in New York Face Fear, Uncertainty, and Separation
From daily anxiety to fractured families, over 400,000 undocumented immigrants in New York struggle under heightened enforcement and the looming threat of deportation.
New York City, a beacon of diverse cultures, is home to an estimated 412,000 undocumented immigrants who now move through their daily lives under a heavy cloud of fear and uncertainty. Aggressive immigration enforcement policies and tough rhetoric about mass deportations from the current administration have cast a long shadow, radically altering routines and emotional well-being. This widespread sense of dread extends beyond those without legal documents, affecting even legally residing immigrants and naturalized citizens—a concern reflected in recent national focus groups.
The daily reality for many undocumented New Yorkers is marked by constant psychological pressure and deep anxiety. Personal testimonies reveal a noticeable shrinking of their daily lives: fewer trips on public transportation, reduced essential errands, and much less time spent outside their homes. This climate of heightened caution also carries an economic toll, as many individuals report declining livelihoods while striving to minimize potential encounters with federal agents.
Living in Fear: Undocumented Families in New York
“Juda,” a 33-year-old asylum seeker from Peru, embodies this ongoing struggle. Every morning, before her children leave for school, she carefully repeats her phone number—a vital precaution against unexpected encounters with immigration officials. This fear turned painfully personal when a close relative was detained a few months ago, leaving an indelible mark of turmoil on her household. Speaking in Spanish, Juda said: “We have no peace,” expressing a deep sentiment echoed throughout her community. Yet she added: “The fear of going back to our country is greater than the fear of staying here,” highlighting the painful dilemmas so many face.
Statistical data underscores the growing severity of these fears: immigration arrests across New York City have surged by a troubling 56% compared to the previous year. Official figures reveal that more than 3,300 individuals were detained in the metropolitan area within just a few months after the current presidential term began. This aggressive enforcement strategy has fueled increased sightings of federal agents in residential neighborhoods and a steady stream of online videos showing immigration raids, amplifying collective anxiety.
For “Lin,” a 40-year-old woman from China who has lived in the city without legal status for two decades, her world has shrunk dramatically. Her life is now confined largely to the few blocks surrounding her Brooklyn apartment. She has stopped using the subway and abandoned family outings to cultural sites such as museums, zoos, and parks, prioritizing minimizing her time outside.
Lin is constantly haunted by the potential consequences of deportation—especially the fate of her three minor children, all U.S. citizens. The thought that they could end up in foster care if she were detained drove her to seek legal advice, including the painful task of assigning a backup guardian—a request that was met with hesitant pause from a relative, leaving Lin with a mix of sorrow and understanding.
Her husband, also undocumented, works in another state and has delayed returning to Brooklyn due to similar fears. Preparing for the unexpected, Lin works extra shifts at her Chinese restaurant job, saving diligently for her children’s future. Despite the deep emotional burden, she shields her children from her fears, determined not to cause them more trauma. Her daily ritual includes a 7 a.m. prayer for peace and the simple, yet profound, hope of safely making it through each new day.
Family Separation and the Struggle to Stay
The specter of family separation is a harsh reality for countless individuals. “Hortensia,” a 29-year-old from Colombia, has lived through this pain directly. Just days after crossing into Texas with her family, her husband Jairo was detained while buying basic supplies. He was later deported back to Colombia.
Through tears, Hortensia recounted in Spanish: “It felt like the world collapsed on me,” describing her deep distress. Now living in New York City, she faithfully sends half of her weekend hairstyling income to support him. She dreams of a future where her family can reunite—perhaps in Canada, or through the increasingly difficult and costly process of securing a work permit and legal representation to fight for Jairo’s return.
Even the thought of voluntary departure presents a painful dilemma. “Petra,” a 50-year-old from Mexico who has lived in the United States for 35 years, initially planned to return to her homeland rather than face deportation. However, the thought of leaving behind her three adult U.S.-citizen children—who would be without family in the country after her husband’s deportation in 2012—proved unbearable.
Ultimately, Petra chose to stay, missing her scheduled immigration appointment and moving into a borrowed room, feeling like “a fugitive for something I didn’t do.” Despite her precarious status, she continues to work loyally as a housekeeper, caring for a cancer patient, all while postponing her own medical check-ups and arranging guardianship for her youngest child—driven by the profound hope of witnessing his high school graduation.
Taken together, these stories form a powerful portrait of a community living under extraordinary pressure, where the relentless pursuit of safety and stability is a daily struggle fraught with risks. The emotional and psychological toll is immeasurable. Yet, amid the challenges, resilience shines through—in quiet acts of courage, sacrifice, and an unwavering determination to navigate a complex and often unforgiving system.
