Ketlie Moise, owner of the Lantern Bar in downtown Springfield, Ohio, isn’t sure about much these days, but she is certain of one thing: being deported back to Haiti would be the equivalent of a death sentence.
“If I go back, some people are going to kill me,” she said. “I think the situation is even more messed up than it was in 2019 when I left.”
Moise is one of around 300,000 Haitians across the US who are facing deportation after losing their Temporary Protected Status, a humanitarian programme that has long been in President Donald Trump’s crosshairs.
The scheme allows certain categories of people to remain in the US if it is unsafe for them to be deported to their home countries. But Trump’s allies say its protections keep being extended long after the affected places have returned to normal, making it a de facto pathway to permanent residency.
“Under the Biden administration, TPS was used improperly, extending temporary protections and benefits beyond their intended scope and undermining America’s legal immigration system,” said Zach Kahler, spokesperson for US Citizenship and Immigration Services.
The administration’s push to end the programme got a boost in June when the Supreme Court ruled that it could terminate TPS without judicial review.
That meant that many of the 1.3mn people from 17 countries who held TPS at the start of Trump’s second term are now at risk of forfeiting it as the programme is gradually unwound.
But business leaders and economists warn that a wave of deportations could hit the US economy, weighing on growth and pushing up costs for employers.
A study last year by the Penn Wharton Budget Model, an economic research project, estimated that in 2023, people with TPS generated $35.9bn for the US economy.
It also found their participation in the labour force was nearly 15 percentage points higher than US-born individuals, with 79.4 per cent of TPS workers employed full time, compared with 64.5 per cent of US-born workers.
Employers who have come to rely heavily on foreign workers across the US are particularly exposed to the risk of disruption.
Jason Hutchens, chief operating officer of ArchCare, a non-profit that runs nursing homes and home care for the Archdiocese of New York, said his organisation has taken a big financial hit as it has rushed to find replacements for its Haitian TPS-holders.
“We had to triple our sign-on bonus for certified nursing assistants in very short order and . . . take on a lot of third-party agency contract staff, at a much higher rate,” he said. “There are 600 nursing homes in New York, and it’ll make us all compete for the limited amount of staff.”
He warned that the policy will lead to the loss of workers who “were providing a great service, who were contributing in a very meaningful way”. “Instead of using a scalpel to solve the immigration issue, you’re using a bomb,” he said.
The Trump administration dismisses these concerns. “The assertion that the only way we can take care of our seniors is by allowing unvetted illegal aliens and foreigners to remain in the country is grossly false and lazy,” a Department of Homeland Security spokesperson said.
Back in Springfield the business community is bracing for upheaval. Michael McDorman, head of the local chamber of commerce, said Haitians had resolved “critical labour shortages” in the town, paving the way for strong growth in manufacturing and logistics.
Changing their immigration status “introduces operational challenges for local employers who rely on these hard-working individuals”, McDorman said.
The administration’s push will hit other areas too. “There are a handful of rustbelt towns that have been held up as examples where the immigrant inflows in recent decades have really kept the towns going,” said Tara Watson, an expert on the economics of immigration at the Brookings Institution, a think-tank.
The sudden loss of such immigrant groups “can create hardship for a community”, she added.


The mood among Springfield’s 15,000 Haitians is bleak. “We’ve been praying for the best but are now facing the worst,” said Vilès Dorsainvil, head of the city’s Haitian Support Centre.
Haitians were first granted TPS for 18 months after the 2010 earthquake devastated their country. It was then repeatedly extended as Haiti descended into political chaos and gang violence.
When they arrived in Springfield the city was stuck in long-term decline. Major employers closed down plants as production moved offshore, unemployment rose and so did crime. In 2011, a Gallup survey named it the “unhappiest city” in America.
The Haitians helped revive its fortunes. “The city was dying,” said Tim Voltz, an elder at Champion City Church in south-east Springfield. “A lot of employers, who used to complain that they couldn’t fill positions, say the Haitians saved their business.”


The new arrivals were hired by local companies such as McGregor Metal, a metalworking firm, Topre America Ohio, a Japanese auto-parts manufacturer producing stamped steel components, and Dole Fresh Vegetables, where they clean, process and package fresh produce.
Despite the benefit they brought to Springfield, Haitians have always had detractors. Trump famously singled them out during his election debate with Democratic candidate Kamala Harris in September 2024, accusing them of eating local cats and dogs.
Some local residents said Haitians had led to a decline in the quality of life in Springfield, with longer hospital wait times, higher rents and more traffic accidents.
On social media, the resentment often turned into vitriol. A woman who posts videos under the name @gemcity757 said the Haitians had brought “prostitution” and “illegal gambling machines” to Springfield.
Last week, Moise scrolled through some of @gemcity757’s recent posts and shrugged. One deliberately misrepresented the Lantern as “Springfield’s First Haitian Gay Bar”. “All Queens Welcome.”
“What can I say — some people hate Haitians,” she said.


With the expiry of TPS there is a strong likelihood that Moise, and most other Haitians in the US, will be returned to a country where, according to the UN, roughly half the population is experiencing acute food insecurity.
Mike DeWine, Ohio’s Republican governor, said ahead of TPS expiring that the situation in Haiti “could hardly be much worse”. He noted that the federal government still has an advisory against travelling to the country, and the Federal Aviation Administration prohibits US carriers from flying there.
“But more importantly, changing the immigration status of these individuals is not in the best interest of the United States, nor Ohio,” he said.
Meanwhile, many Haitians in Springfield have been ordered to attend appointments at the Department of Homeland Security in nearby Cincinnati, and “once they get there, they are asked to wear ankle monitors,” said Carl Ruby, senior pastor of Central Christian Church in Springfield, who has long advocated for the Haitian community.
Biassu Pierre, a local community organiser and TPS holder, said dozens of Haitians had received text messages from the authorities in the past few days telling them to “leave now or face several months in jail”.


Many in Springfield fear there will be a big influx of agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), similar to what was seen earlier this year in cities like Minneapolis, where two US citizens were fatally shot in January by federal immigration agents.
“There’s a fear that we could see a repetition of that,” said Marjory Wentworth, a member of a local faith-based organisation which helps Haitians in Springfield. “ICE have guns and they seem to have complete impunity.”
For Pierre, there are few good options. “You wake up and you don’t know what to do,” he said. “I’ve seen people lose their minds.”


