In search of the American dream,
I come to America like everyone an asylum seeker because
of the facts.
In my country, everything there is terrible.
Migrants putting their lives at risk,
escaping a world of harm and danger back home.
We all want to stay in America,
an emotional journey filled with hope
and fear. I know the situation.
I know that it's tough,
Literally. Like, New York City is like stuff.
But it's also difficult because we're struggling over here.
The crisis at the border spreading here to New York
City.
Fox 5 presents migrants in America
in their own words.
I'm Stephanie Bertini. New York City is in the midst
of an unprecedented migrant crisis.
Asylum seekers are making their way here in record numbers.
During the next 30 minutes,
we explore the reality of what's going on at home
and abroad.
Let's begin with their plight
and their fight for a better life.
Since spring of 2022, around
200,000 migrants and asylum seekers have come to New York
City,
mostly on buses, airplanes or trains.
They've been given food, medical attention and shelter,
and they continue to arrive daily.
If you can make it there,
you can make it anywhere.
There's obviously obviously that romantic expectation that New York is
going to be a hub for your dreams.
A lot of these migrants come from incredibly unstable situation
where you're not even sure that you will going to
see another day.
The human smuggling network that leads to Mexico and into
the United States is dangerous and daring,
often including other countries across the border by smuggling.
Like pretty much like every single.
According to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime,
smuggled migrants are often put at risk.
Migrants have suffocated in containers,
perished in deserts or drowned at sea.
New York City is a sanctuary city,
meaning federal immigration laws are not enforced locally.
Also, New York City's right to shelter mandate requires officials
to provide a bed to anyone who needs one.
But the city has said we are at capacity,
the mayor even asking a judge to suspend the mandate
for now.
Restrictions are in place on shelter stays,
30 days for singles and 60 days for families.
More than 200 emergency shelters have opened since last spring.
The Roosevelt Hotel in Midtown functioning as the official intake
Center for new arrivals,
as seen here in this exclusive Fox 5 interview.
All asylum seekers coming into New York City.
Each day, we'll come through that that same doorway there.
Initially, the mayor welcomed the new arrivals,
but as the pressure on resources grew,
his tone changed. At one point,
he even traveled to Latin America to discourage asylum seekers
from coming.
But the numbers continue to climb,
and so the city's restrictions are getting tighter.
Like a recent executive order that puts limits on when
and how migrants can be dropped off in buses,
the federal government must step up and step in.
This is a national crisis that calls for a national
solution.
Now the busing battle. It was
2022 when the Governor of Texas started sending migrants to
New York City.
Today, Mayor Adams cracking down with new restrictions on when
and how I was the first reporter on the ground.
As a group of migrants were dropped off in New
Jersey
Secaucus Junction Station in the middle of the night.
A charter bus from Texas pulls up.
We watch as New Jersey Transit police connect with two
men,
the bus driver and his partner.
Within minutes, women, men and children emerge.
How are you feeling? I asked.
Very good. A little tired,
but good, he replied, clearly wearing relief all over his
face.
He's been traveling for
three months, he said. His journey is almost complete.
The final destination will be,
of course, New York. In this group,
people from all different countries united by an American dream
they would do almost anything for.
For countless migrants and asylum seekers,
New York City is the epitome of that American dream.
I asked this woman how long she's been waiting for
this all to come together.
A long time, she said,
her joy impossible to ignore.
They're also staring us in the face,
the tears that come when words are too hard to
find.
This young man says he drove from New York City
to pick up his extended family here in New Jersey.
They're all from Venezuela. I just thank God that they
made it.
The majority of them don't have anyone waiting to pick
them up,
so they walk inside the station with the few things
they own.
We watch as they wait for a train ticket to
New York City.
Sources tell FOX 5 News the tickets were purchased for
them.
The men who brought them from Texas wouldn't talk.
But once they left, we got on that train with
the migrants.
Destination Penn Station from anxious to overjoyed.
They're clearly carrying a lot of emotions.
This is all for my children,
says this mother of three.
That they can grow calmly.
That they can have stability.
That they can study, come and go,
things that can't happen in my country.
Her youngest in her arms is just one years old.
They've been traveling for months.
Venezuela, we came from Venezuela,
Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Panama, Costa Rica,
Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico. And then they cross the border
into the United States.
Fear. A lot of fear when you're traveling.
You're scared
everything with the help of family and friends.
Because without directions, without anything here,
you can't make it. She and the others got to
Penn Station,
a quick train ride into New York City,
allowing them to successfully make their way through a loophole
in an executive order issued by Mayor Adams in December
2023 putting restrictions on bus drop offs,
limiting them to Monday to Friday from 8:30 to noon.
Waiting to meet them. Activist power Malou.
We as human beings have to step up and as
New Yorkers and represent New York in the right way.
And it is a sanctuary city,
and that's what we're doing.
The immigration process is a long and complicated Rd.
that may or may not lead to permanent status,
as I found out. For many,
that means camping out and waiting for hours outside ICE
headquarters here in Manhattan,
lining this sidewalk on any given night,
people from different parts of the world who want nothing
more than a life in America.
I came to register at immigration,
says this man from Guinea,
West Africa. He's been in New York City for only
two weeks, he says, telling us after traveling through several
countries guided by the human smugglers he paid,
he crossed the border illegally from Mexico into the United
States.
Here he hopes to be granted asylum.
He says poverty, danger and social unrest in his country
forced him out.
He was in fear of
losing my life in Africa,
he says. We met him on a Sunday night in
November in a sea of migrants and asylum seekers,
all of them outside the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement
office in lower Manhattan,
where we've learned that even with an appointment being seen
is not guaranteed.
This line is always here,
says this asylum seeker from Ecuador,
telling us it's well known in the migrant community that
the demand on the New York City ICE office exceeds
the number of people that can be seen daily.
About 500 people go in daily.
That's why there's this line,
not everyone can enter, he says.
So no matter the weather,
they wait and sleep outside in an attempt to ensure
they will get into the ICE office in the morning.
This line along the sidewalk is indicative of just how
many migrants and asylum seekers are in New York City
and what they're willing to endure.
In this line, there doesn't exist a bathroom,
he says. No bathrooms, and for many of them,
no familiar faces. Are you family?
Friends?
No. Where are you guys from?
We are from China. You're all from China.
Yeah. Ice there. You have to go to ICE.
Yeah, these asylum seekers from India tell me the life
they left behind.
India is dangerous, is much more complicated than their main
challenge on this night.
Cold. Yeah, yeah, you're feeling cold.
Blankets and cardboard boxes provide some relief from the cold
overnight,
but clearly this is far from ideal.
You can see they're doing what they can to keep
warm,
and if you take a closer look,
you'll notice they're doing what they can to comfort one
another.
And that's whether they know each other or not.
On this Friday morning in November,
we found a lot of people eager and ready for
the doors to open.
But before 10:00 AM, they were told it was closed
for the day.
It's not easy, says this man from Venezuela,
clearly at a breaking point.
I left the country thinking everything is easy,
but the situation is not how one thinks of it.
You are by yourself here
coming up. They can literally kicked us out in 60
days
and you got kicked out?
Yes. Then
I know that at any moment they can send me
back to my country because I am illegal here.
My fear is there. But I am a strong woman.
And later
when there's Fox 5 special migrants in America in their
own words return.
He's worried about the future because I don't want to
be end up like a lot of homeless people.
We found this man standing outside the Roosevelt Hotel with
his belongings on the sidewalk.
It's a familiar place he first went to when he
arrived to New York City.
The Roosevelt Hotel is the official intake Center for asylum
seekers in New York City.
The Roosevelt send us to a shelter in Brooklyn and
we stayed there like for almost 3 months.
They moved us, moved us in another shelter
and make us like to sign a letter
that we will. They can literally kick us.
Kicked us out in 60 days
and you got kicked out?
Yes, tonight, fortunately. I know the situation.
I know that it's tough,
literally, like New York City is like dealing with a
lot of stuff,
but it's also difficult because we're struggling over here.
Where are you from? I'm from a country in Africa.
Following the lead of countless others,
he crossed the US Mexico border into the United States
in pursuit of a better life across the border.
Murder by smuggling. Like pretty much like every single person
here,
he paid those human smugglers everything he had and more.
Every single penny. Everything. Actually,
you had to like to borrow some
money from others from like my relatives.
We suffered over there a lot.
As a single young man in his 20s,
he was willing to risk it all for freedom,
to save myself from those monsters in my country.
Basically. Across town, I met a Venezuelan family facing a
similar situation.
They're staying at the Row Hotel in Hells Kitchen,
and their time here is coming to an end.
53, he says, explaining how many days they have left
until they have to leave.
A little worried, he tells us,
as he thinks about all the uncertainty they're facing.
But as he thinks about the long term.
All you see is hope,
my future, good things for my children,
stability and tranquility, he says.
I got out of Venezuela from Colombia,
he says, telling us they went through eight countries before
crossing the US Mexico border
into Texas. Touching American soil was the goal,
he explains, But the destination was always New York City.
It is faith, determination and the push for a better
life that fuels migrants and asylum seekers to fight for
what so many of them explain in one short phrase,
the American dream
still ahead, making it in America.
If they give me construction,
I will do construction. If they ask me to clean,
I will clean. Wherever they give me work.
In the mornings I go and in the night I
am here.
This woman still hasn't lost sight of the dream almost
30 years later.
Welcome back, women supporting women.
It's the purpose and the passion of a migrant mother
who started sewing classes out of a small bookstore in
Brooklyn.
And as you'll see, she's sowing the seeds of hope,
one stitch at a time.
Hi, my name is Sonia Casajon and I am an
immigrant for 25 years.
The English she now speaks evidence of her time here.
Her pride comes from a place of survival,
and the sewing is part of the story then and
now.
From when I was a girl,
I was working as a seamstress.
When I immigrated to this country,
I thought I would find work like that as a
seamstress,
but when I came here,
the situation turned out different,
she says. Sonia Castrejon was 19 years old when she
left Mexico and crossed the border illegally.
In the town where I lived,
you heard people saying there are those who will bring
you here,
she tells us, referring to the human smugglers who she
says she paid to get to the United States.
A lot of danger is how she describes the journey,
she says. It was poverty that pushed her out of
Mexico.
She came to the United States in search of
a better tomorrow, she says.
What she didn't expect were the challenges that come with
what was and still is her reality.
I am not legal, she says,
describing her immigration status in the United States in order
to survive.
She quickly learned that any job is better than no
job,
and that's how she says she's making it raising children,
her oldest, now 21, and her youngest 11,
who can already sew quite well.
If they give me construction,
I will do construction. If they ask me to clean,
I will clean. Wherever they give me work in the
mornings I go and in the night I am here.
Here is where she operates La Michoacana.
Her small sewing business gets its name for Michoacan,
Mexico, where her family is from.
They allowed me to do do it here,
she says. At this point,
she's an expert at working around barriers.
She pays a little rent and operates out of the
small Brooklyn bookstore after hours.
Creating garments and doing alterations for her clients brings in
some money,
but that's not all she does here.
She also helps other women like her,
teaching them how to sew,
she says, So
in the future they can work.
I feel like I am family.
With Sonia coming to these classes,
one disconnects from the problems and life outside.
As these women look at the surge of migrants coming
to New York City now after crossing the border illegally,
they understand what drives them.
If at times I cry for what I went through,
to me it's for everyone because we are all going
through the same thing.
I know that at any moment they can send me
back to my country because I am illegal here.
My fear is there. But I am a strong woman
and she hopes one day her main goal in America
will be achieved.
My papers, she says.
Next, turning dreams into reality,
this migrant holding hope in his hands.
Success doesn't come without struggle.
Many migrants come here with the same goal in mind,
to build a better life for themselves and their families.
For one man I met recently,
the search for the American Dream is in his hands.
Hard at work on the streets of Manhattan,
Dennis Rico sells homemade arepas and other authentic Venezuelan dishes.
He starts his day at 7:00 AM,
cooking for hours.
I am preparing in a kitchen that a friend rented
who has like 8 years in this city,
he says, and then he heads out.
I leave with my little cart,
like you see here to sell.
He says. He sells long after sunset
per day. It's like 100 or
$120.00, he says, telling us the cash money is much
better than nothing
practical. It's practical because I don't have legal documents,
he says, referring to work papers.
He came to America with his wife and daughter in
pursuit of a better life.
They left Venezuela and, like many others,
are seeking asylum in the United States.
Their decision to leave was based on survival.
It's a reality that's very hard,
very hard and complicated, an economic situation that is brutal,
catastrophic, he says as he describes the life he left
behind in a nation that has long been plagued with
poverty,
political turmoil and other dangers.
It hurts me a lot to be out of Venezuela,
he admits. But instead of focusing on how that feels,
he chooses to smile and sell the food he loves.
Many of his customers, he says,
are other migrants who embrace the Taste of Home.
Other migrants that are Venezuelan that are in the area,
he says. Right now, Denise lives in one of the
more than 200 emergency shelters the city has established during
the migrant crisis that started last spring.
A migrant's life is very hard,
he says, as he reflects on all the uncertainty.
Settling in America after crossing the border illegally brings
an experience. Honestly, that is very hard,
but it makes you reflect,
he says as he holds on to the hope that
things will be so much better in the long run.
For my future, I am not worried because if you
are constructing it by yourself,
your future will be progressive and good.
It will be guaranteed, as officials contend with an overload
of migrants and asylum seekers in New York City,
resources are running thin. He knows the help he's getting
for now with Shelter,
for example, will eventually run out,
and by now he's realized how expensive and tough New
York City can be.
I feel worried, but there's no point in being worried,
he says. And so he's focused on his version of
the American Dream here in New York City,
using the food that reminds him of home to build
a bridge into the future he's fighting for.
And in the future, he says,
he hopes
to have an Arepa store.
The battle at the border is more than just politics.
It's the struggle for many to achieve the kind of
life Americans are born into.
It's the search for the American dream many migrants and
asylum seekers believe they will find here.
Until next time. I'm Stephanie Bertini.