After President Trump suspended the refugee admissions program, some new arrivals found themselves out in the Wisconsin cold. With help, they have survived.
Story by Kurt Streeter for the New York Times in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
The January wind stung Luismar Liendo and Edwin Perez the moment they stepped from the plane into Eau Claire, Wis. They had landed in a place colder than they had ever known, a biting contrast to the swelter of their native Venezuela.
The married couple, political dissidents, had been granted refugee status by the United States, and pictured this new land as a welcoming haven.
But soon after Mr. Perez, 27, and Ms. Liendo, 31, arrived, the door to which they had entered America slammed shut. They were among the last refugees to arrive in Wisconsin and indeed in all of America. President Trump, on his first day in office, suspended the Refugee Admissions Program, which admits those facing persecution abroad.
Then Mr. Trump made another move, cutting off federal funds for nonprofit groups helping refugees — money that went to rent, food and other essentials.
World Relief, the evangelical Christian group assisting Mr. Perez and Ms. Liendo, had expected each refugee to receive federal support of $1,325 for the first 90 days. Now, there was nothing.
“We were afraid,” Mr. Perez said. “It was a difficult moment, for sure.”
These refugees arrived in the United States with legal status after careful vetting. But they are caught in a moment in American history when the welcome mat for immigrants, legal or not, is threadbare.
Having won the White House in part by promising mass deportations, President Trump has issued sweeping crackdowns.
The future, as ever for the displaced, was a fragile thing.
In Venezuela, expressing a political opinion could make someone an “enemy of the homeland.”
In Eau Claire, World Relief had charge of 29 newcomers who had arrived over the previous three months. When federal aid faltered, the organization reached out to a quiet network of volunteers, many rooted in local churches, who tried to fill the gaps.
While opposition to refugees lingered among some in the Eau Claire area, Mr. Trump’s decision to stop bringing in newcomers had reduced the anger to a simmer. The Rev. Paul Smith of West Ridge Church in Eau Claire observed a change of thinking among some wary congregants.
“It was like a switch flipped,” he said. He attributed the change to personal connection — “when people start thinking, ‘Wait, these are now families in our community, these are parents trying to raise kids.’”
Volunteers met refugees at the airport, helped arrange their housing, drove families around town and helped children get into schools. One church donated $3,200 for gift cards; another covered two months’ rent for a single parent.
On the evening when Mr. Perez and Ms. Liendo arrived at the Eau Claire airport, a World Relief volunteer, Josh Huhmann, was there to greet them. He said he remembers their faces looking young and worn out. An app on a cellphone translated most of the conversation, as the two recent arrivals navigated a new and unfamiliar world.