It was outside the Christ the King Episcopal Church in Stone Ridge where a crowd gathered under a handful of open umbrellas and a grey, misting sky to keep the media’s attention focused on the It was outside the Christ the King Episcopal Church in Stone Ridge where a crowd gathered under a handful of open umbrellas and a grey, misting sky to keep the media’s attention focused on the sorry Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) arrest and detainment of Ali Faqirzada, a 31-year-old computer science student at Bard college, a hospital security guard, a community member seeking asylum in the United States.

Saida Faqirzada, Ali’s sister, was there in front of the church. She told how he had been snatched up by ICE agents after attending an October 14th asylum interview in Long Island.

Though charged with locating and arresting the “worst of the worst criminal illegal immigrants,” scores of recorded video encounters on the internet tell a different story.

Video shows agents distinguishing themselves by singling out foreign-born, law-abiding human beings now living in the United States and abducting them from their jobs, beating them on the ground, taking them off the sidewalks and pushing them into vehicles, dragging them out of their cars and lurking in courthouse halls to arrest those following the responsible performance of their immigration obligations.

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Across the river from Kingston, immersed in fresh air and birdsong and hidden amongst the trees, the student body at Bard College includes refugees from the countries of Ukraine and Afghanistan.

They are pursuing their degrees as part of an exchange program, It’s difficult to imagine a setting more incongruous with the lives they left behind — explosions and gunfire, regime change, and repression, coups and revolution. 

Maihan Naimi, a 22-year-old Afghan, laughs easily in the conference room where she is interviewed. 

“The Russians came. And then the Majuhadeen came. And then the Taliban came,” says Naimi. “So probably around twelve years for the Russians. And then the Americans for 20 years. So many invasions. They come and go.”

Raised in Kabul City, Naimi is proud to come from a military family. Her Father and her father’s father served her country. She has it all the time in the back of her mind, she says, the idea to return to her life there. 

“But what would I do? No woman right now can work. No woman can study.  They can’t have even a public life,” says Naimi. “They’re not allowed to go outside, sit in the parks or have fun. They’re saying that women are not here in this world to have fun. The basic human rights that a woman needs in a country, the Taliban has taken everything from the woman.”

In case there was any ambiguity under the new rule of the Taliban, America’s on-again off-again ally in the region, supreme leader Hibatullah Akhundzada abolished the ministry of women’s affairs outright.

“Oh, my god,” said Maihan. “I don’t know how the Taliban got control! The Minister of Defense was calling to the courts and bases, telling them to fight. But they had been told that we shouldn’t fight. And the way that they took control! The Taliban was just on motorcycles. Trust me, they didn’t even have shoes on their feet.”

During the evacuation of the American forces, Naimi left with her family, crammed in with 700 other refugees in the belly of an enormous cargo plane. The Taliban assumed control of Afghanistan on August 16, 2021.

“It was very cold, and we did not have a place to just sit really well,” says Naimi. “I was the person who stood up to stretch out my legs, and then everyone stood up. In a day and a half we went to a military base in Bahrain and from Bahrain we came to Virginia, to Dulles.”

Everyone wore color-coded wristbands. Red wristbands were for those with special immigrant visas, who had worked with the U.S. government directly. Blue wristbands were for the people who had no documents. 

“This was very famous,” laughs Naimi. “Whatever papers people had with English writing, anything, they would just take it to the airport. People came with just their electricity bills.” 

Naimi wore a white wristband, issued for those who worked in top positions of the Afghan government or their relatives. Maihan’s father worked in the defense ministry and her mother worked with the National Security Council of Afghanistan. 

After fingerprinting and documentation, after the wristbands, they were scattered across the continent. To Fort Lee, to Fort Beacon. Maihan and her sister in America, her parents to Canada, the family was without passport or status, separated by the border to the north and unable to cross.

Olenka Tsyhankova, a 20-year-old student from Ukraine, did not come on a military plane. When the Russians invaded Ukraine, when they started firing rockets, when everything was topsy-turvy, Olenka, along with her mother, her 13-year-old brother and her dog, walked the 70 kilometers [43 miles] from Lviv to the Western border alongside other families also fleeing in the hope of crossing to Poland. They began the trip in daylight and ended more than twelve hours later in darkness. It was February 25.

Anyone who’s ever broken down on an interstate highway has an idea of what it’s like. Only they probably weren’t carrying bags of their essential belongings with them. 

“We tried to cross the border on foot,” said Olenka, “but too many people were there. Hundreds of them, sandwiched between two rows of buildings. There were students from other countries who didn’t really understand Ukrainian. So they didn’t understand that there is a rule that first women and kids and then men. So they started pushing the gate. And that’s how everything happened. They heard a gunshot and started running in every direction they could. The guy, he didn’t shoot anyone, he shot in the air, but nobody saw what happened. Some people were trampled in the stampede.”

So they turned back. Walking back into Ukraine past a Poland-facing queue of cars 20 kilometers long, the weather below freezing. Well after sunrise they had been able to hitch a ride to a bus station where everyone fell asleep, Olenka next to the family’s bags. 

“My dog is a half-Corgi, half-terrier. Tiny,” says Olenka. “I don’t know how she survived the walk.”

While Lviv is a city on the western side of the country, away from the spear head of the Russian invasion, there is no real distinction between the battlefront and the rest of the population.

“It’s safer than on the eastern side, but nobody gets all the missiles,” says Olenka. “No matter where you are in Ukraine, it could still happen. The emotional and mental condition of people, it’s not good.”

Both Olenka and Maihan share an essentially militaristic understanding of society as they appraise the value of soldiers and guns. The attitude does not seem to be popular at the liberal-arts college.

“For now, my plans are to join the U.S. military,” says Maihan. “Nobody likes you to share your idea of saying this here. They think it’s because of killing people or this or that. They’re like, would you like to go to the battlefield? To be honest, for me, I have been raised in such a place that war was all around me. Bombs were around me. It seems very normal to me, to go and fight for a country that’s really in need of people. 

With gender-based discrimination currently insurmountable in her country, joining the American military is a practical decision for Maihan. But Olenka, the student of art history, intends to return to Lviv in spite of the missiles after her semester is through.

“For Ukraine, this war did not start last year, or even nine years ago,” says Olenka. “We have always been fighting for what was always our independence, our right for existence. I see a lot of connections between the Ukrainian thing and the Native American thing, like our destiny or what you would call it. We are a nation that has been colonized for centuries … separated between Poland and Russia, with the Russian regime much more harsh. The Polish were like Austro-Hungarian, so that’s more freedom on the western side rather than on the eastern side. People who were closer to Russia, they have less connection with Ukrainian culture, authentic Ukrainian culture, and Ukranian language, because Russia has always influenced that and still tries to prevent us from fully integrating ourselves in Europe.”

Olenka’s experience has left her totally prejudiced against the Russian people, whom she considers carefully brainwashed. 

For the soldiers, her judgment is cold and rational. “They’re stealing and adopting our kids,” says Olenka. “Around 20,000 Ukranian children right now in Russia, “adopted” from Mariupol and other cities in the eastern side of Ukraine. How am I not supposed to hate them?”

In Olenka’s world view, the responsibility for each country’s people to overthrow their badly behaving rulers is objectively absolute. The failure to do so makes people complicit in the acts perpetrated by their country’s leaders. Cheerleading certainly, but standing by and watching also makes one a collaborator. If American’s accept the fact that Russians are guilty for who is involved, says Olenka, and those not doing anything to stop it are also guilty, then Americans must accept their share of responsibility for something they did not start but have the power to stop. 

Olenka was able to get out of the country on the second try, following an itinerary that under different circumstances would arouse envy, passing through Krakow, Prague, Berlin, Paris and ending up finally in Torre la Mata, a tiny enclave of full of expatriates from larger Europe on the Spanish coast of the Mediterranean. They stayed at the house of her godmother for four months before her brother and mother decided to return to Lviv. Olenka went to South Bend, Indiana, ending up at Notre Dame before arriving at Bard.

Though she has enjoyed her studies, there is a problem with her college. The sound of the air raid siren used by the local fire department to summon the volunteers to car accidents or house fires carries far through the air over the campus. The siren can go off at any hour.

“I was in Ukraine for only a week and a half during the war,” says Olenka, “but I think that sound is engraved in my brain. Even though our conscious minds understand that we are away from war, our subconscious tells us to run and hide whenever we hear it and freeze in fear. I don’t think that Ukrainian students who are coming here will be happy to hear it.”

Olenka says she is one of ten Ukrainian students at Bard, with ten more expected for the following semester. 

Naimi’s path to Bard ran first through New York City which was closer in spirit to Kabul, a city of five million. Over the summer, she had been installed in The New Yorker Hotel to take part in the Bard Globalization and International Affairs program, At first, Naimi found the shift in the fall to new digs in the peace and quiet of the Bard campus disconcerting.

“When I came to Bard I got depressed. I had never lived in a rural area,” says Naimi. “When I got a scholarship, I was thinking New York City! And then coming by train up the Hudson River, and it was like, where am I going? It was so hard. We were three girls, and they all put us in a very far dorm in the north of the campus. And we were all alone, not taking any classes. In front of our eyes, everything changed from a hundred to zero. That was a hard time.”

And then more students were arriving from her country as well.

When she first came to the campus, Naimi recalls, nobody knew about Afghanistan. 

“When they would hear my accent, or me not speaking English very well, they would ask, ‘where are you coming from? Oh, Afghanistan? Oh, cool. They would look at each other. Nobody knew until our community got bigger and bigger. Now they know so much about the country. There are 50 plus Afghan students at the college now.”

From her vantage point in the Hudson Valley, Naimi swings between hope and hopelessness for her country. Grateful for the activity of various organizations in Washington, DC, which through protests call attention to the situation in Afghanistan, she is also skeptical that protests and fundraising alone will really change the reality on the ground. 

For now, having received her asylum approval, Naimi waits for the official documentation which will allow her to at least cross the border into Canada to visit with her parents. The rest of her family is scattered far and wide across the globe, in Dubai, Pakistan, Germany and Belgium. 

While Naimi is not aware of a sizeable Afghan community in New York City she knows about the mosque in Kingston.

“Most of the Afghan students here go. I was planning to go,” says Naimi, “to perform my Friday prayers, but I have class at that time. Religion is important because it keeps me in a framework, culturally, but I’m not a particularly religious person. As you can see, I’m not wearing any scarf. I would say to my sisters, ‘oh, my god, it’s so hard to fast!’ But no, I can do this. I have done this all of my life in Afghanistan.”

Naimi does get over to Kingston, however, to the Center for Creative Education on Cedar Street, volunteering her time teaching computer programming to underprivileged children.

“At first, I started it as Girls Who Code, but when I saw the little boys also, they were coming all the time, I was like, no, it should be kids who code, so I changed the project name. Everyone should be allowed. Everyone has the right to study.”

Which tracks with the world Naimi expects and prefers, the world she experienced when she was a child.

“We could go to schools. We could just go to picnics and live outside,” says Naimi. “We had all the rights.”

When her semester is over, Olenka will head back to Lviv. She accepts the reality of rocket fire. Her anger warms her.

“The bigger issue with the war that is happening right now, is that [the world] doesn’t understand that the regime will not stop. Even after Ukraine. It will move further because that’s what’s been happening for years and years. There’s Georgia, there’s Chechnya. Russia has been invading other countries continuously. It’s just there was no social media before that to actually show it.”

Russia invaded Ukraine and occupied Crimea in February 2014, ultimately annexing the region in retaliation for the ouster of the Russian puppet-president Viktor Yanukovych during what the Ukrainians call the Revolution of Dignity. Olenka rules out giving up Crimea in exchange for permanent peace. 

“That’s just not the case for Ukrainians. We don’t do that. The goal is to get the whole area free,” says Olenka. “And that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I mean, even if it takes years and years and years and years.”

She acknowledges it will take a long time to rebuild the cities that are completely destroyed, that the efforts of planning and logistics will be difficult. No matter where she is, she says, she is still trying to do as many things as she can to speak for Ukraine, and have her voice heard wherever she is.

“So many terrible things are happening everyday during the war. but there are some peak moments that hit the emotional stability of all the Ukrainians very hard. And one of those moments was when a huge rocket that was 20 meters long [60 feet] hit a residential building. And there were pictures of the building completely shattered, and a woman on the fifth floor next to her bathtub [was] just scared because she opened her eyes and there’s the world. The wall, her home, is not there anymore.”

“When I’m sitting here listening on the phone to my brother crying to me because he saw the rocket hit a few kilometers from our home, and then there’s someone sitting in front of me complaining about how expensive gas is .… It’s definitely not the biggest problem in your life, but I get it …. Even though I know people will not understand at the level as we need them to, it’s still better to speak than remain silent and not do anything.”

Russia invaded Ukraine on Thursday February 24, 2022.

As of May 24,2023  it has been 454 days.

Father Frank Alagna looks taller than he is, but it could be his black jacket and trousers. He’s got silver hair, large hands and speaks with an earnest demeanor. Recalling examples of injustice or holding up for admiration examples of brave human beings, he get gets a little teary-eyed. When he gets worked up and curses, he uses the word hell as a plac…

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“This is a problem that’s not going to go away. There have always been immigrants, since Abraham left Ur. The scriptures are filled with all sorts of eminent admonitions to care for the stranger among you, because that is part of the ongoing human experience.”

                                                       - Father Frank, community activist

Every five days Mayor Adams experiences his own personal groundhog day when he has to pick up his pen and reauthorize yet again the executive order he originally signed on October 7 2022, declaring a state of emergency in the City of New York.

The first time he signed it the number of individuals who arrived in the city seeking asylum had reached 17,429.

Adams’ executive order noted the unannounced and unscheduled arrival of busloads of asylum seekers at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, sent courtesy of the State of Texas.

Named Operation Lone Star, thousands of migrants had been transported by bus from Texas to Chicago, Washington D.C. and New York City. Over a 40 day period before Adams signed his order, 2,500 migrants had been sent from Texas.

Adams reauthorized his executive order for the 18^th time on New Years Eve, with no end in sight. On Valentines day he signed to reauthorize the order for the 27th time. On Passover for the 37th time.

Running out of space in the city, it was all but inevitable that mayor Adams would look north to the Hudson valley.

The day after Adams reauthorized his emergency declaration for the 43^rd time, on Cinco de Mayo, it would be discovered that Adams had arranged for near 300 migrants to be housed at the Armani Inn in Orangeburg and the Crossroads Hotel in Newburgh, on New York City’s dime. The backlash was swift.

In quick succession, Executive for Rockland County Edwin Day declared his own state of emergency on May 6^th and then Executive for Orange Steven Neuhaus followed suit on the 8^th .

The jist of both declarations was that all hotels, motels and facilities offering short term rentals within their borders couldn’t any longer accept migrants or asylum seekers sent from the city. Or else.

County Executive of Nassau County Bruce Blakeman has so far avoided declaring a state of emergency, but if there was any confusion as to his emotions, as of 8 hours ago  the Republican made his feelings clear in a Facebook post saying: “Mayor Adams can find a lot of sanctuary places, but Nassau County isn’t one of them! There’s no welcome mat here.”

Down in Westchester, Democrat George Lattimer’s turf, that county executive has so far avoided the droll reactions of his Republican counterparts.

"Human compassion has to be met with pragmatism,” said Lattimer in a statement. “We must understand the U.S. can’t solve problems of the world. We don’t have the resources. We can’t be there for every person on this planet, but we can’t turn a blind eye either."

Governor Hochul in a letter released on May 12 claimed that New York City has exceeded capacity in its shelter system, which currently includes providing temporary housing and support for over 36,700 migrants at 120 locations.

This not counting the tens of thousands of other individuals currently housed along with the migrants in the citywide DHS shelter system.

In October when the mayor first signed his executive order, with 60,000 individuals already in the system, he predicted the number would rise to over 100,000 individuals sometime in 2023.

So far no plans have been revealed by Mayor Adams to place New York City migrants farther north in the Hudson Valley but on Tuesday May 16, County Executive of Dutchess County William O’Neil  in tandem with Sheriff Kirk Imperati moved to pre-emptively reject the idea in a statement.

“Our community is not equipped to receive any influx of asylum seekers or migrants,” it said, “and will not enter into an agreement with the state or New York City to allow for mass housing of their migrants.”

Recognizing that “there are strong opinions on this issue”, the duo went on to urge residents to “remain peaceful and respectful”.

Today, May 18, Ulster Democrat Jen Metzger becomes the latest County Executive to weigh in on the matter in a released statement, noting that the county has yet to be contacted by Mayor Adams about receiving any migrants.

Acknowledged to be undergoing the most intense housing availability issues in the entire state, the crisis must necessarily complicate what many would prefer to be an open armed-humanitarian response.

 “We are taking proactive steps to prepare for any possible developments and continue to actively monitor the situation,” said Metzger. “ I want to thank Governor Kathy Hochul for traveling to Washington today to meet with Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas and members of the New York Congressional Delegation to press for expedited federal resources to address this crisis. Ulster County is committed to protecting all of our residents and providing them with the safety, respect, and dignity they deserve. I will continue to engage with every level of government to ensure that we are meeting that commitment.”

Ulster County Sherriff Juan Figueroa has yet to release a statement, but he did respond to questioned in his typically straightforward fashion.

“My job is to protect the people in this county. And that's whoever that is. So, you know I was a supporter of Green Light. People deserve licenses out there in this country, but I'm also a supporter of, if you come into our country and you break the laws like any other person in this country, you're going to be held accountable. That's the standard. Don't break the laws.”

With the expiration of Title 42 last Thursday developments have been unpredictably quiet here in the Hudson valley.

Title 42 was the Trump presidency policy that allowed agents patrolling the border with Mexico, and Canada, to expel any persons there they found attempting to cross preventing them from officially asking for asylum.

Authorities had feared an unrestrained surge of immigrants right up to the midnight bell on May 12 that would overwhelm border patrol agents.

The novel use of the health department rules to stymie immigration was dreamed up at the start of the Covid pandemic by Trump’s race-baiting Svengali, Stephen Miller.

Under Geneva Convention rules signed on to by members of the United Nations, the United States acknowledges obligations in regards to the protection of refugees, returnees and stateless persons which were sidestepped by the Title 42 policy.

Far from being a compassionate reset for a United States entering back into compliance within their international obligations, the new Biden Policy which takes its place called Title 8, severely restricts the granting of asylum.

Unless they can meet one of a short list of exceptions, access and eligibility have been rendered difficult to obtain for people fleeing their homes because of unlivable violence and instability

Primarily, migrants will be presumed ineligible for asylum in the United States if in passing through other nations en route to the U.S. border they failed to apply for protection in any of those intermediate countries first.

At a May 11 press conference in Washington D.C., Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas delivered a stern message.

"We are making it very clear that our border is not open, that crossing irregularly is against the law and that those who are not eligible for relief will be quickly returned.”

It was estimated that 11,000 migrants crossed the border the day before.

Pictured above: Council Member Carlos Menchaca talking with Honduran immigrant Paola after the hearing.

15 year old Paola speaks into the microphone. She is soft spoken. Her black hair is tied up into a tight bun and she wears a gold cross on chain around her neck. Her hands are in restless contrast to her steady, deliberate delivery and she pauses after each sentence or two to let the translator catch up with her before she continues.

Through her translator, she says: "The first time I went to court I did not have a lawyer. I did not know what was going to happen and I was very nervous. I was nervous because I thought they were going to deport me."

That she is here to deliver her testimony to City Council Member Carlos Menchaca and the Committee on Immigration is impressive enough. That she is here in New York City at all, in and of itself is an eloquent statement of willpower and perseverance. Paola is a child immigrant from Honduras, a refugee from that country's violent turmoil and grinding poverty.

While Syrian refugees by the boat-full have transfixed the eye of international media,  closer to home a Central American humanitarian crisis has grown to desperate proportions. Tens of thousands of refugees from Honduras, Guatemala  and El Salvador risk the overland route through Mexico via automobile, train hopping or just covering the distance on foot, for the chance to cross over into the United States in search of a better life. Many of these traveling are children. Many of these children travel alone.

According to U.S. Customs and Border Protection, over 68,000 unaccompanied minors were apprehended at the Southwest Border between Mexico and the United States in 2014, enough minors to equal the populations of Ithica and Poughkeepsie combined. Far from being a high water mark, evidence seems to indicate that the tide of immigrants may still be rising. Last year, in just the month of October, the number of minors apprehended at the Mexican border totaled 2,519. In October of this year that number nearly doubled.

It's estimated that four out of every six unaccompanied immigrant children arriving to the United States are eligible  for a legal status, either Special Immigrant Juvenile Status or plain old fashioned asylum. But whether they receive that status is largely dependent upon the presence of legal representation. Without that representation it's estimated that as high as 91% of youth in removal proceedings are deported back to whence they had originally fled. And here is the crux. Legally, lawyers are not provided by the courts for these foreign born children. Not only do they lack the sophistication to recognize their need for a lawyer, even if they did  they most certainly lack the resources to hire one  Again, they're children. And what children.

In a PBS news special, using a pseudonym, Jacob R.C. another immigrant from Honduras recounts his story. While a young child, his mother was incarcerated and his father passed away. He spent most of his childhood living on the streets because he had nowhere else to go. As a homeless youth he was a prime target for gang recruitment. Violence and death were regular themes in his everyday existence. It was at age 17 he finally made the decision to reach out for a different life.

Like Jacob was, a child alone, these child refugees are also the most vulnerable. Many are victims of severe domestic violence. Many are lured or forced for their own protection to join up with the street gangs and drug trafficking organizations like Mara Salvatrucha. Many are forced into sex work. And so there is the emotional damage to consider. When they arrive here a great deal of these children will need therapy.

It's a credit to the City Council that last September, recognizing a need for action, the Unaccompanied Minors Initiative was launched to confront the crisis squarely. The initiative empowered partners of the council,  community based organizations and advocates, each boasting their own  complicated slurry of acronyms, along with the Mayor's Office of Immigrant Affairs (or MOIA), to advance a multi pronged solution which encompasses the legal, the medical and the psychological.

As a result of this legislation, all unaccompanied minors appearing on the Juvenile and Priority dockets at the New York Immigration Court now receive Know Your Rights presentations, free comprehensive individualized screenings, pro bono legal representation and referrals to educational, mental health and healthcare services. So far in 2015,           634 minors have been granted some form of amnesty and have been allowed to stay in New York City.

And that's fantastic. In spite of the inappropriate orange blur now pursuing the Republican presidential nomination, in spite of his xenophobic invective and the ugly political climate it creates, the City of New York along with The Robin Hood Foundation and the New York Community Trust has ponied up the necessary funds yet again. Originally, one million dollars from the city, 550,000 from the Robin Hood Foundation and 360,000 from the Trust. The council itself has allocated an additional 1.5 million for the coming year. Give us your tired and weary indeed.

At around this point one could express disbelief that while New York City finds itself amidst a booming homelessness crisis, that while genuine American Citizens huddle under blankets atop the sidewalk subway grates for the warm subterranean air that rises up from below,  we somehow have deep enough pockets to provide for those who after all, are not citizens. And this is a valid point to consider. But to offer up this argument with any sincerity, we would first have to genuinely demonstrate our desire as a society to provide for those less fortunate already among us. Ample opportunities, for decades they have crowded around us.

Until the rhetoric catches up to the reality, it's once again bleeding heart public advocacy groups that are the boots on the ground while the landed gentry bitch and moan.

As they're fleeing what amounts to a war zone, what's the harm in letting another 634 children into New York City? It's our prohibitionist drug laws here in the good old U.S. of A which empower those vicious cartels wreaking havoc in Central America in the first place. Like any good, ethically challenged corporation they mass produce a product by hook or by crook, that it turns out in spite of our bureaucratic stance to the contrary, our countrymen and women are eager to consume. Our countrymen and women, they're insatiable consumers.

Take away the highly profitable incentive that a, well, never mind. Drugs are bad. Let's just agree to repeat that over and over until the problem goes away.

In the meantime, the scale of the Central American flood arriving at our shores is unprecedented, though the City Council's solution is not. They're seeing what they can do to prepare more beds.

The following is the labyrinthine an enjoyable list of relevant community based organizations, advocates, and slurry of acronymns spelled out:

(UAM) Unaccompanied Minor

(BDS) Brooklyn Defender Services

(MOIA) Mayors Office on Immigrant affairs

(I-CARE) Immigrant Children Advocates Relief Effort

(CCCS) Catholic Charities Community Services

(ORR) Office of Refugee Resettlement

(TVPRA) Trafficking Victims Protection Act

(UIC) Unaccompanied Immigrant Child

(SIJS) Special Immigrant Juvenile Status

(AWCs) Adults with children

(LOPC) Legal Orientation Program for Custodians

(EOIR) Executive Office for Immigration Review

(USCIS) United States Immigration and Citizen Service

The Door

Terra Firma

Ayuda Legal Para Refugiados Centoamericanos

Safe Passage Project