In the lead-up to the new year, Michel Bérrios made the significant decision to leave the United States, marking a small early success for President-elect Donald Trump’s campaign aimed at widespread deportations. A former leader of a Nicaraguan student uprising, Bérrios had been living legally in the U.S. under an exceptional humanitarian parole program initiated by President Joe Biden for individuals from specific vulnerable nations. Despite this legal status, the hostile rhetoric prevalent during the electoral campaign triggered painful memories of seeking refuge from authorities back home.
Bérrios’ choice to depart, despite being legally present, illustrates a growing trend among individuals feeling threatened by potential changes in U.S. immigration policy as Trump prepared to assume office. Immigration advocates and experts have noted that while there is no concrete data on these departures, historical patterns reveal moments of public backlash that have compelled both documented and undocumented migrants to leave.
Trump and his associates are indeed relying on this phenomenon of “self-deportation,” where individuals feel driven to leave as a result of an increasingly hostile environment. Bérrios voiced her disillusionment, saying, “Because (the U.S.) is not a Third World country like the ones many of us come from, I thought there would be a different culture here, and it was a rude awakening to realize that you and your family are not welcome.”
The notion of self-deportation plays into Trump’s strategy, allowing him to move his agenda forward without exerting significant effort or financial resources from the federal government. Although Trump has openly expressed desires to deport millions, actual deportation numbers during his term rarely exceeded 350,000 annually, with significant logistical obstacles remaining in place, as evidenced by the limited capacity for detaining immigrants this year.
Bérrios had found temporary refuge in California, where she resided with her cousin and worked in an auto repair shop alongside Trump supporters. As Trump’s election became a reality, she sensed growing tensions, specifically through increased anti-immigrant sentiments among her coworkers. Reflecting on her previous life in Nicaragua, where she had to constantly hide from government authorities due to her involvement in protests against President Daniel Ortega, she stated, “I spent five years hiding. I had to change my routine. I had to completely change my life.”
For many, especially those lacking permanent legal status, such anxieties are commonplace. Melanie Nezer, who serves as vice president for advocacy and external relations at the Women’s Refugee Commission, highlighted that a considerable number of people in Bérrios’ situation, with temporary permissions to live and work in the U.S., may soon find that status at risk. Approximately 1 million people hold temporary protected status in the U.S., along with another 500,000 like Bérrios, benefiting from Biden’s humanitarian parole for asylum-seekers from Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua, and Venezuela.
Until 2018, Bérrios led a life akin to many of her peers in Nicaragua, working at a call center and aiming for a master’s degree in dance. However, widespread protests erupted in response to changes in the social security system, leading to brutal crackdowns by police and government supporters. As violence escalated, Bérrios emerged as a prominent student leader, and her life became a struggle against an increasingly repressive regime that labeled dissenters as “terrorists.”
With fear of imprisonment looming over her, Bérrios came to the U.S. seeking safety when sponsored by a cousin who is a U.S. citizen. Under President Biden’s approach to creating legal avenues for migrants while constricting asylum access, individuals from targeted countries can apply for entry with the support of a financial sponsor and are required to pay for their flights. Since late 2022, around 100,000 Nicaraguans have entered the U.S. under these temporary permits.
As the electoral environment in the U.S. intensified, Bérrios opted for a new path and decided to head to Ireland, motivated by the presence of friends from her activist past. She was drawn by the prospect of fresh opportunities. The asylum processes within the European Union, particularly in Ireland, are known for their relatively standardized procedures, faster case resolutions, and less intense anti-asylum sentiments than found in some other European nations.
Upon arriving at Dublin Airport, Bérrios requested humanitarian protection from officials. Following an interview and biometric data collection, she received an ID card valid for one year and is currently living in a hotel with other women from diverse backgrounds. Bérrios is optimistic about pursuing education while awaiting her work authorization, with an asylum interview expected within the coming months. If all goes smoothly, she anticipates the possibility of obtaining permanent residency within a year.
Though Bérrios’ departure highlights serious challenges related to the U.S. political climate and immigrant experience, she does not perceive her exit as a win for Trump. Instead, she reflects on broader issues within society, stating, “The reasons I left the United States are not only the uncertainty you’re living with as (Trump) returns to power, but also because it’s a country where people don’t have a sense of humanism.” Nevertheless, she remains hopeful, noting that sacrifices made often lead to new beginnings: “You make sacrifices and always hope that things will turn out like you think, maybe not exactly, but pretty close.”
