In the heart of Springfield, Ohio, a once-thriving Haitian community is vanishing. Margery Koveleski, who runs a small office helping local Haitians navigate bureaucratic hurdles, has noticed a dramatic shift in recent days. Instead of seeking assistance with settling into life in the midwestern city, her clients are now desperate to leave.
“People are coming to me to figure out how to buy bus tickets or plane tickets,” Koveleski revealed to a source close to the matter. “They’re booking flights, packing up their lives here. It’s a mass exodus.”
The trigger for this sudden departure is the looming specter of Donald Trump’s return to the White House. The former president, who secured a narrow victory in Springfield in the 2024 election, has long threatened to end the Temporary Protected Status (TPS) that allows many Haitians to legally live and work in the United States. With his second term set to begin on January 20th, the fear of mass deportations has become all too real for Springfield’s Haitian community.
A City Caught in the Crosshairs
Springfield, a city of 60,000 in southwest Ohio, found itself unexpectedly thrust into the national spotlight during the presidential campaign. In a September debate, Trump falsely accused Haitian immigrants in the city of “eating pets,” a bizarre and inflammatory claim that sent shockwaves through the community. The unfounded rumor, coupled with Trump’s promises to crack down on immigration, has left many Haitians feeling targeted and vulnerable.
“People are fully aware of the election result, and that is why they are leaving,” explained Jacob Payen, a prominent figure in Springfield’s Haitian community. “They are afraid of a mass deportation.”
Payen, who co-founded the Haitian Community Alliance and helps fellow immigrants file their taxes, has watched helplessly as his client base dwindles. “Several of my customers have left. One guy with his family went to New Jersey; others have gone to Boston. I know three families that have gone to Canada.”
Seeking Safety in Numbers
For some, the solution has been to seek refuge in larger cities with more established Haitian communities, places like Dayton, Ohio, where they believe they might be less visible to immigration authorities. Others, who originally came to the U.S. with temporary asylum status from Brazil, are considering returning to the South American nation rather than risk deportation to Haiti.
The climate of fear has been exacerbated by reports of local law enforcement targeting Haitians. In the nearby town of Sidney, a sheriff allegedly instructed officers to “get a hold of these people and arrest them,” vowing to “figure out if they’re legal” later. Such incidents have only fueled the sense of panic and desperation among Springfield’s Haitians.
A Community’s Vital Contributions at Risk
The irony of the situation is not lost on those who have watched Springfield’s Haitian community become an integral part of the city’s fabric. In recent years, Haitian immigrants have been credited with helping to revitalize the struggling rust belt town, filling thousands of jobs in local factories and injecting new life into once-blighted neighborhoods.
“If these people leave, that money is gone from the city and the local economy,” Payen lamented.
From the Caribbean groceries lining South Limestone Street to the Haitian restaurants serving up locally-sourced chicken and beef, the community’s economic and cultural contributions have been undeniable. Haitian entrepreneurs have invested in the city, buying property, paying taxes, and even purchasing a former fire station with plans to transform it into a community center.
The Human Cost of Political Rhetoric
As Springfield’s Haitians pack their bags and bid farewell to the city they’ve called home, the human toll of Trump’s anti-immigrant stance becomes starkly apparent. Families are being uprooted, businesses abandoned, and lives upended, all due to the fear of a policy that has yet to be enacted.
Legal experts caution that ending TPS may not be as simple as Trump suggests, noting that court challenges and procedural hurdles could delay any deportations for months or even years. But for those caught in the crosshairs of the political debate, the uncertainty is enough to drive them away.
“There’s a fear among the Haitian community that TPS is going to end on January 20th,” acknowledged Katie Kersh, a senior attorney with a non-profit law firm that advocates for immigrants’ rights. “The strain any deportation effort would place on an already stretched immigration court system would be significant.”
As Springfield’s streets grow quieter and its Haitian-owned businesses shutter their doors, the city serves as a poignant reminder of the real-world consequences of heated political rhetoric. For a community that has given so much to its adopted home, the prospect of being forced to leave is a bitter pill to swallow.
In the coming weeks and months, as the Trump administration takes shape, the fate of Springfield’s Haitians – and countless other immigrant communities across the nation – hangs in the balance. For now, all they can do is watch, wait, and hope that the country they’ve come to call home will not turn its back on them in their hour of need.
