Temporary Protected Status: Designations and Terminations

Temporary Protected Status: Designations and Terminations

By Melanie Méndez, Jacqueline Bolaños and Guoli Wu

 

Problem

The Temporary Protected Status (TPS) program allows eligible nationals of designated
countries to remain and work in the United States during periods of precarity in their home
countries, which federal law defines as including “ongoing armed conflicts, environmental
disasters, or extraordinary and temporary conditions” that prevent safe return. It protects only
those already in the US at the time of the designation and does not provide a path toward
permanent residency. Since the program was introduced in 1990, TPS has provided an
important safeguard for many, including unprecedented numbers of Haitians and Venezuelans
granted protection during the presidency of Joseph Biden (2021-25). However, TPS
designations are not permanent, and the second Trump administration quickly sought to
terminate TPS status for Haiti and Venezuela, meeting resistance in federal courts.

Observation

Venezuela had been granted TPS status in 2021 and 2023 due to the nation’s
precarious situation described by the initial TPS designation as “a complex humanitarian crisis
marked by widespread hunger and malnutrition, a growing influence and presence of non-state
armed groups, repression, and a crumbling infrastructure.” However, these designations were
targeted for termination by the Trump Administration in 2025 as part of a broader shift in
migration enforcement priorities. The administration justified this by citing “notable
improvements” in Venezuela’s economy, further claiming that continuing the program was
“contrary to the U.S. national interest.” However, despite the removal of Venezuela president
Nicolás Maduro in January 2026, a month later the International Monetary Fund (IMF) reported
that: “socioeconomic conditions remain very difficult” and “[t]he situation overall is quite fragile.”
The difficult living conditions caused by this crisis can be seen reflected in the stories of some of
the millions of Venezuelans who fled the country during the Maduro regime (2013-26). Note
while over a million of these migrants sought protection in the US, many more fled to Colombia,
Mexico, or other countries.
Among them is Magalí Gaviria, who migrated to Colombia on account of the broken
system of healthcare in the nation. In her digital story The Distance That Hurts, Gaviria explains
that the urgent surgery she needed was unaffordable, and she was afraid that her recovery
would be complicated by electric outages of four or more hours a day. As she puts it: “Due to
the situation our country faces, many say it’s a lie, but we live it ourselves. The situation, I mean
the economic situation, we don’t have quality of life.” Although her emigration entailed a family
separation that she finds to be “intense and painful,” she can’t see returning any time soon.

Vibrant mural across a two-story building depicting faces with colorful feathered wings
Espacio Migrante, one of the shelters receiving
Venezuelan migrants in Tijuana

Frequent power outages combined with hyperinflation and shortages of water, food and
gas, also make everyday life arduous for many Venezuelans. The difficulties caused by these
blackouts, one of which lasted a whole month, are explained by Gulio Ricci in his digital story A
Journey to Hope: “There was no way to contact one’s family, to go to the supermarket to buy
food, or to go to the pharmacy because there was no electricity.” This struggle to access basic
necessities pushed Ricci to leave Venezuela, and later seek permanent residency in Mexico.
As Carlos Olavarrieta explains in his digital story Setting Foot in Popayán, “There was
no work, everything had gone up in the clouds, there was a shortage of food. There were lines
everywhere to get food. The government took the food. Mostly they took it to their homes. They
took the bulk and we had to settle for the crumbs that they left us.” When the issues in
Venezuela are so deeply embedded into the political structure of the state, it can be difficult to
imagine how these systemic problems can be resolved quickly. Nonetheless, the termination of
the TPS designations for Venezuela was upheld by the US Supreme Court in late 2025.
The Trump administration has also sought to end TPS for Haiti, facing challenges in
federal courts. Haiti was originally designated in 2021 a few weeks after the assassination of its
president Jovenel Moïse due to “a deteriorating political crisis, violence, and a staggering
increase in human rights abuses, [as well as] rising food insecurity […], and high vulnerability to
natural hazards.” As of early 2026, TPS for Haitians remains in litigation.
Rose, a Haitian national now living in Tijuana, explains the conditions that the country
has faced since organized criminals overran the capital of Port-au-Prince. In her digital story,
SOS Haiti, she explains in detail how ordinary citizens including women and children are the
everyday targets of gangs, who are widely feared for killing people: “Everyday people are
traumatized by the sounds of firearms.” She observes that many children have left school out of
fear, while essential institutions like hospitals, schools and supermarkets have been burnt or
closed down, adding: “Students are dying daily. Professionals are dying daily.” Moreover, air
service has frequently been interrupted, and embassies closed. She calls for international
support to combat insecurity and allow reconstruction so that “Haitians can return to their
country,” which currently remains unfeasible.

Adult and child on couch looking at a device, TV and colorful floral mural behind
Richard seeking legal advice in Tijuana prior to
crossing to the United States

Richard, a Haitian migrant talks about his experience returning to Haiti in 2022 after
trying to seek asylum in the US, and getting deported under Title 42, a public health policy in
force from March 2020 through May 2023 used to rapidly expel migrants without allowing a
formal asylum hearing. Frustrated by the metering system then being implemented at the border
for asylum seekers, which allowed limited admissions favoring women and children, Richard
crossed the border without authorization and ended up being immediately sent back into the
systemic instability of his home country, where political turmoil and insecurity persist. In his
digital story, I Do It So That My Daughter Doesn’t Suffer: Part III, Richard reports water
shortages and electric outages, as well as the constant threat of criminal violence: “There are
kidnappings but when the ransom is paid, they don’t release the victims, they demand more
money. Often families can’t pay and don’t know where to look for more money, and the
kidnappers kill the hostages.”
Unlike Venezuela, where there has been a regime change that might lead to economic
recovery and repairs to essential infrastructure, conditions in Haiti have not improved, and the
US State Department maintains a Level 4: Do Not Travel advisory, having evacuated all
nonemergency employees in 2023 and recognized a state of emergency there since 2024.
The recent efforts to terminate TPS for Venezuela and Haiti reflect shifting national
priorities, with the U.S. government arguing that continued protection is no longer in the national
interest. Legally, the government has the responsibility to review and authority to end TPS
designations, which are meant to be temporary. However, the testimonies presented here
suggest that many of the conditions that originally justified these protections, including political
instability, insecurity, and failing infrastructure, are unlikely to improve soon. This creates a
tension between the temporary nature of TPS and the prolonged crises facing those who rely on
it.