The idyllic promise of a family vacation turned into a terrifying escape for Gabriela, whose plans to visit Disney World in Florida morphed into a flight from ongoing cartel violence in Ecuador. Living in Guayaquil, Gabriela thought her middle-class life, which included a stable job in television for 15 years, a mortgage, and a daughter in private school, was safe from the chaos of gangs engaged in brutal drug trafficking disputes.
However, when she received a life-threatening phone call from a gang demanding money, she became acutely aware of the violence surging through her country. The situation worsened dramatically when her daughter’s grandfather was kidnapped, with his family receiving horrific videos proving his torture and ultimately leading to his murder.
Driven by fear for her and her daughter’s safety after the horrifying loss of family, Gabriela's partner urged her to take their daughter out of Ecuador and travel to the United States, not intending to return. Now, Gabriela finds herself among the countless others navigating their asylum claims in the US, bearing the burden of a legal system that often fails to recognize the devastating realities of cartel violence.
Asylum claims based on cartel violence face significant hurdles due to the stringent requirements of US asylum laws, which historically focus on persecution tied to race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group. Maria, another Ecuadorian refugee, recounted her own traumatic encounter with gang members, which prompted her to flee to the US. Here, she works tirelessly, yet lives under the stress of an asylum process that could stretch until 2028 before she even has a hearing.
The stats surrounding asylum claims from Latin Americans offer a grim outlook, with experts indicating nearly 70% of claims facing rejection and many being detained indefinitely as they await decisions. While former President Trump's administration made obtaining asylum based on violence more stringent, this legacy still looms under the Biden administration. Deportations have not only increased but also now include complex considerations around categorizing cartel members as terrorists, which may inadvertently complicate the claims of those who have been coerced into complying with these gangs.
This legal quagmire leaves many families feeling they are often caught in a web of fear where even the slightest mistake could doom their chances for safety. Gabriela expresses that her entire life has been reduced to a work-home loop, perpetually anxious about their precarious status in the US where fear of deportation and trauma persists.
Luis, another victim of the ongoing violence, shares his plight, detailing a harrowing decision to flee when the threats escalated to murder in the streets surrounding him. For families fleeing from the violence, the confusion and misrepresentation of their plight—and even risking deportation for those forced to pay cartel-related extortions—necessitate an urgent call for changes to the US asylum laws.
In the background, public opinion in the US is split over rising deportations yet leans toward providing means for undocumented immigrants to find legal status. Despite the doubts, families like Gabriela, Maria, and Luis believe their situations demand a nuanced understanding of terror, wherein their desire for safety and stability forms the cornerstone of their asylum aspirations. They seek to reclaim ordinary lives not marred by fear, hoping for understanding rather than misjudgment in their pursuit of refuge.
