A Tale of Two California Cities: Contrasting Responses to Unexpected Migrant Arrivals

Silva thought Sacramento might be where she could start over and, little by little, fulfill the promise she had made to the 15-year-old daughter she left back in Colombia: to make enough money to help her daughter continue and improve on her education.

Some time before Sacramento County rejected Trejo’s funding request, the Governor’s Office of Business and Economic Development (GO-Biz) announced the state’s first Local Immigrant Integration and Inclusion Grants, more than $6 million going to 12 local governments across California.

Sacramento County was awarded $910,210 to “establish an interagency task force to promote cross-jurisdictional coordination to create a rapid response plan and system of care for newly arriving migrants,” according to the state agency. But the county would not be able to disburse the funds until January.

Like Silva, some asylum seekers have left Sacramento. Ones who stayed were told Sacramento ACT could no longer help them financially.

State aid for Los Angeles

California officials began planning last spring for a potential increase in migrant arrivals linked to the impending end of Title 42, a federal emergency health rule that had allowed border officials to turn away migrants at the U.S.-Mexico border, to prevent the spread of COVID-19.

From April 2021 to September 30, 2023, the state helped more than 472,000 migrants who were processed and released at the border, said Scott Murray, a social services department spokesperson. That includes more than 98,000 who came to the state since Title 42 ended on May 12.

The state’s preparation included a $1.3 million contract with the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights in Los Angeles, the lead organization of the L.A. Welcomes Collective of nonprofits. Officials allowed that contract to stay in place, to provide humanitarian aid for migrants arriving to the L.A. area from Texas, Murray said. It expires in December.

As part of the state’s 2023 budget, the L.A. County government also received $2 million from the state’s social services department, to work with nonprofits providing aid to newly arriving migrants.

Lyndsay Toczylowski, executive director at the Immigrant Defenders Law Center, said her firm is providing legal guidance and support to migrants seeking asylum. The L.A. Welcomes Collective organizations also work with each other and with state and local officials to provide services to arriving migrants. That includes medical attention and a warm meal at arrival, and legal services and transportation to new destinations if migrants choose to leave L.A., said Jorge-Mario Cabrera, a spokesperson for the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights, more commonly known as CHIRLA.

This is nothing new for the organization, said Executive Director Angelica Salas. “We feel like this is the nature of the work we do, which is that we have to be responsive to these major emergencies, sometimes not created from a natural flow of migration but by the politics in the nation.”

A family’s flight

Since June, Texas has sent dozens of buses of migrants to Los Angeles. The City Council in August voted to (PDF) investigate whether human trafficking, kidnapping, or any other crime was committed when the first bus arrived from Texas on June 14.

Paiz, Arenas and their two daughters were on one of those buses. The Guatemalan family had escaped gang violence in their hometown, they said, then endured a long journey hoping for a more stable life.

“The gang activity was growing and we were getting threats; we were being extorted and abused,” Paiz said. “It was a difficult situation. More than anything, that’s why I needed to look for some security and protection for my family.”

Paiz, 30, had been a propane gas salesman, and his daily routine involved driving a truck through various neighborhoods. Gang violence was growing in Guatemala, Paiz said, and gang members harassed him on his work routes. They stole money and, when he stopped carrying cash, they stole tanks of gas, which his employer deducted from his earnings, he said.

In early 2023, two gang members approached him at work with a proposition, Paiz said: Would he join the gang as an informant? They asked that he give them information about his clients and in exchange, gang members would leave him alone and supplement his earnings.

Paiz said no and the gang assaulted him. He arrived home that day with his nose and mouth bloodied and his chest covered in bruises. Soon after the family left Guatemala and made the journey to the U.S.-Mexico border by car, bus and foot.

Claiming asylum

By the time Paiz, Arenas and their oldest daughter made it to the U.S.-Mexico border, Arenas, 31, was near the end of her pregnancy. Hanna was born in April in Tamaulipas, Mexico where they waited two months before crossing the border to Laredo, Texas.

There they claimed asylum, saying they had fled violence in Guatemala. The family was transported to a Laredo church where they waited two weeks for the bus that would take them to Los Angeles.

Hanna, barely a month old, cried the whole way. She had wanted warm milk but there was no way to heat up her formula on the bus, Arenas said.

The only consolation, Arenas said, was the view out the window of a beautiful new country she had never seen before, as the bus made its way through the Arizona desert.

Three months later the family sat in a Los Angeles legal office. Arenas bounced Hanna on her lap as the infant babbled. Occasionally croons would begin to turn into cries, and Arenas would stand and rock Hanna to quiet her. Arenas handed Hanna to 11-year-old Sheryl, who rubbed noses with her baby sister.

Paiz said the family is living in central Los Angeles with his uncle, and he’s looking for jobs while he waits for his permit.

“We want stability, emotionally and economically,” Paiz said. “My family wants to have a home free of everything we went through in Guatemala. To forget about all of that and build a new home.”

A promise to keep

In total, California has spent more than $1.3 billion since 2019, to assist the federal government in providing humanitarian services and help for newly arriving migrants, said Murray, of the California Department of Social Services. The Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights’ contract is part of that investment.

California does not have a contract with Sacramento ACT, or any other organization in Sacramento, for providing services to migrants sent there, Murray said.

Because Sacramento ACT couldn’t provide long-term assistance to asylum seekers, at least two other organizations stepped in. NorCal Resist has daily supplied food and basic necessities and Opening Doors, which has worked with Afghan and Ukrainian refugees, will pay for housing the asylum seekers for six months.

Tientcheu, of Opening Doors, said welcoming migrants is a good investment for the city and county of Sacramento — and for the state.

“Immigrants and refugees are incredibly entrepreneurial,” she said. “Over time, they pay more in taxes than they use in public benefits.”

Days before Silva left Sacramento, she was able to start working on her declaration for asylum application, detailing her experiences in Colombia and her reasons for fleeing and fearing going back. But Silva wasn’t able to file her asylum application while in Sacramento, she said, because she wasn’t given proper information about the asylum process.

In her paperwork, Silva recounted that her former partner, a police officer in Colombia, psychically abused her. Before she could report it to authorities, he threatened to kill her, she said.

Now, seven months after she fled Colombia, Silva works as a waitress in Memphis. Her tips are best on weekends, she said, though her earnings aren’t enough to pay for her own apartment.

Still, Silva is able to send money to Colombia, to build a better future for her daughter.

“I didn’t want to leave Sacramento. I loved it,” Silva said. “But I came to this country to work and give my daughter a better education. That was a promise I will keep.”