Naturalization is often the best, most logical path forward for those without the necessary family ties or funds. It involves living legally in the country for a set number of years, demonstrating familiarity with the language, and sometimes passing a test on history, culture, and the political system.
Federal law allows presidents to grant TPS for people in the U.S. whose home country is experiencing armed conflict, natural disasters, and other extraordinary and temporary conditions. President Trump is seeking to end that status for people from 13 countries, including Myanmar, Nepal, Honduras, Nicaragua, Afghanistan, Cameroon, Yemen, Somalia, Ethiopia, South Sudan and Venezuela.
Citizens of Nowhere is a documentary short about stateless people in the United States individuals who, through circumstance or legal technicality, belong to no nation. Without passports, citizenship or legal recognition, they live in a state of uncertainty. From finding work and accessing education, to simply existing within a system that does not officially recognise them, stateless people face endless bureaucratic barriers.
The day I married my husband was cool and quiet, and filled with the kind of calm that feels sacred. I wore my favorite color, indigo-purple, and my soon-to-be husband, Allan, looked dapper in cobalt blue. Our best friend, who served as our witness at Brooklyn City Hall, wore the perfect shade of green to complete the moment. As our names were called to step into the chapel, I could feel my heart racing, and my breath was shallow with anticipation.
Judge Indira Talwani of the Boston District Court issued a preliminary injunction blocking the termination of the legal status of more than 8,400 immigrants living in the country under family reunification parole, a measure announced by the Department of Homeland Security in late 2025. The decision was issued on Saturday night and prevents the government from ending the humanitarian parole granted to relatives of U.S. citizens and permanent residents from Cuba, Haiti, Colombia, Ecuador, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras.
That was the case for Mailan Pacios, a 28-year-old Cuban immigrant living in Tennessee, who was scheduled to take her citizenship exam on January 8, only to receive a notice on January 3 that her appointment had been canceled. It was like a bucket of cold water. It's very painful when you come with the hope of moving forward and this happens, says Pacios, who has two children, owns an air-conditioning business, and insists she has never had legal problems nor been a public burden.