On December 10 we celebrated, once again, International Human Rights Day. This is a moment to honor the breakthrough made on December 10, 1948, when, under the influential leadership of Eleanor Roosevelt, the world adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR). This landmark document established a shared global promise: that every person is born with inherent dignity, equal worth, and fundamental rights that must be upheld by all nations.

Yet, as we reflect on that commitment, the rights of migrants stand at the forefront of today’s human rights challenges. Around the world, people are fleeing conflict, persecution, environmental disasters, and economic instability—often only to encounter increasingly restrictive immigration policies, barriers to asylum, and heightened vulnerability at borders. While the Statue of Liberty is still guarding our shores, the safe haven it promised becomes more and more elusive. Women, children, and families are taking incomprehensible risks to come to the US, only to face further persecution and a blunt denial of their humanity. Even when managing to cross the borders, migrant people are deprived of their basic human rights, arrested with no due process, and/or denied due process and legal representation for their rightful asylum claims.

Refugee women face unique challenges when it comes to securing affordable housing, and the ripple effect on their mental health is alarming. According to research, housing affordability stress can worsen or even trigger anxiety, depression, and PTSD among refugee women (Baker et al., 2020). This is particularly concerning for those with children, who often experience a gender wealth-gap, higher poverty rates, and limited work opportunities—factors that increase the risk of evictions and displacement.

For refugee women in the U.S., housing challenges are magnified by a number of barriers including language difficulties, discrimination, and immigration restrictions. These challenges are compounded by systemic issues, such as profit-driven investors buying up housing, reducing the availability of affordable units (Solf et al., 2024). Without stable housing, the road to community integration becomes more difficult, while mental health issues worsen.

To Immigrant Women Activists, Migrant Communities in NYC & the HMH Community:

This morning is heavy… The days ahead don’t carry too much light. The results of yesterday’s election roll back the small progress we made over the past four years, creating serious challenges for immigrants, women, LGBTQ+ communities, Black and Brown communities, and the environment. But one thing that cannot be taken back or destroyed without our consent, is our HMH community, nor the many communities like ours that stand with each other against bigotry, discrimination, violence, and injustice.

According to the UN Refugee Agency (UNCHR), one in every 69 people, or 1.5% of the world’s population, is now forcibly displaced-- a percentage that has almost doubled in the last decade. As individuals and families cross borders to flee persecution, conflict, violence, and human rights violations, limited or complete lack of proficiency in the local language hinders many people’s access to healthcare, employment, or legal assistance. While newly arrived asylum seekers prioritize learning English, proficiency takes time and practice, and everyday activities like grocery shopping, going to medical appointments, and taking public transportation can be frustrating when faced with communication barriers. Language interpreters provide an essential service in helping forced migrants navigate through social services. As service providers and program designers, social workers have a role in utilizing new technologies, specifically in generative AI, that can open a new world of translation services, ensuring individuals understand their rights and the types of support available to them.

We may be closer to having Airpod-like devices in our ears that instantly dub anything we say, similar to the fictional Babel Fish in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, breaking down communication barriers in ways that were once imagined as only science fiction. Companies like the London-based Eleven Labs are revolutionizing translation and dubbing utilizing advanced voice synthesis technology. By using realistic voice overs that maintain voice characteristics and are almost indistinguishable from one’s real voice, social workers, lawyers, and healthcare professionals can offer more personalized, connected care in a client’s first language. While AI can potentially be misused, it can also bridge critical gaps in social services, especially for migrants and refugees.The same company that is developing software to break down language barriers also created voice cloning software, where anyone can upload a voice, like a public figures or their own, and have it say anything. This can lead to more fraud and scams. While there are not clear AI ethical guidelines established yet, service providers also have a role in raising awareness to already vulnerable populations, like forced migrants. Empowering individuals through education can help everyone make informed decisions and safeguard personal information from possible exploitation. The potential for how it can improve communication for underserved populations should not be overlooked though, and professionals working with asylum seekers and refugees should research more innovative ways to connect with their clients, such as using AI-powered translation and dubbing tools. Service providers have the ability to build more inclusive spaces and empower forced migrants to engage fully in new communities and leverage the services available to them.

I will be referring to this client as K for the purpose of keeping his identity confidential in this blog post. K came to me while I was doing case management at a non-profit in Harlem that helps to integrate asylum seekers from Africa (primarily western Africa) into New York City. I help them sign up for social benefits like SNAP (food stamps) and Cash Assistance. K came to me in need of assistance because, like many asylum seekers in NYC from the border, he can’t work until six months after he files his application for asylum. So, he needs benefits like cash assistance and food stamps to get by. He lives in a shelter in the Bronx, and what I’ve heard from all my clients who live in the shelters is that the food is crap, there isn’t much of it, and it’s not culturally appropriate. I felt an instant connection with him despite him speaking only French and no English because he was young, close to my age. When I read his case file, the first one I read since working there, it grounded me. He had protested the government as a student in his home country and had been persecuted because of it. His uncle had then been implicated in a prison break against a dictator’s orders, and K was now a target of this too. I am a student who has protested injustice by my government as well. While we live in a security state, we have certain civil liberties here, at least on paper, that are supposed to protect me and my right to dissent. It’s luck and privilege alone that sets me apart from K and his peers who bravely migrated here. I just happened to be born into a family in New York City. Had I been born in a different country, I could be an asylum seeker, now in a shelter in the Bronx with shit food and an unclear future, with a home in Africa that I may never see again.

My name is L., I moved in US few years ago then I applied for asylum in January 2017. I received my EAD card 185 days later.

That EAD was more than a work permit to me, it symbolized the beginning of a new chapter in my life: a better job, more opportunities, and most importantly it had an emotional value in regard of all the closed doors it finally opened.

Being an asylum seeker means being in constant mental pain. Is there a solution?

When I came to the US, I felt l like I'd been handed a new life. Everything seemed so new and fresh, full of opportunities I never had before. And also, everything seemed so safe.

In New York City, over 50,000 people, i.e., 4% of the 8.38 million residents, identify as non-binary and transgender people. We do not know precisely the number of immigrants among this population. Alex Trifonov, a community health representative and patient navigator at NYU Langone Health, on May 11, 2022, presented on the issue of health equity at an event at RUSA LGBTQ+. What is known is that stress caused by minority status and stigma leads to chronic stress and cardiovascular problems. Chronic stress, in turn, can cause substance use and abuse, addiction, and mental health issues.

Mr.Trifonov specifically spoke about health inequity among LGBTQ+ people regarding cancer. He talked about very low levels, lower than immigrant populations, of preventative healthcare utilization among LGBTQ+ patients due to the abovementioned minority stress and consequent avoidance of medical care. At the same time, across the United States, over 80,000 LGBTQ+ people receive a cancer diagnosis every year. Lesbians and bisexual people have a double risk of acquiring cancer diagnoses. Transgender and nonbinary patients have double the chance of getting cancers caused by infectious diseases. Gay men are diagnosed with anal and prostate cancers and cancers caused by HIV younger than other patients.

A group of teenage girls sat silently at three tables in the dining room. The girls wore identical gray sweatpants and sweaters but had different hairstyles. It was shortly before 9 am. They had eaten breakfast and were waiting to walk over to their classroom. The girls were small in height, had brown skin, and didn’t look very excited to head to school. Pretty much like other typical teenage girls. As I made my way through the dining room, I said, “Buenos Dias Chicas!” A few girls responded with “Buenos Dias”, some smiled back, and others remained silent. 

It took a while for the girls to become familiar with seeing me three times a week. The “clients” of this department were unaccompanied children waiting to reunite with their families.  Teenagers from different countries, some spoke more than one language. For the first few weeks, I’ve only listened to their stories and learned why these adolescents chose to leave their homes, how they arrived at the U.S/Mexico border, and how they were adjusting  to the program. Some  departed their countries for better educational opportunities; some left to search for work to support their families, and others were looking to escape violence or abuse. Many of these child migrants, however, traveled alone. And carried their traumas, alone.

I started working with asylum seekers in September 2021 as an intern for Catholic Charities Community Services.  After a series of trainings, I was ready to talk to my first client. I was nervous but excited about the prospect of being able to connect my client with essential services.  Due to the pandemic, all communication with my clients was via phone and text messaging.  I found it difficult at first to build a trusting relationship with someone I had not met. At the same time, it was a great challenge to overcome and a skill I now feel more comfortable using.  Seeking asylum is not an easy process— it requires an individual and oftentimes, a family, to abandon their home, their personal and professional lives, their language and cultural traditions, their possessions, and most importantly their freedom.  Yet, every client that I have assisted has taught me important lessons through their willingness to thrive in a completely unfamiliar country. 

When I think of my clients, several words come to mind: strength, honesty, gratitude, and fearlessness.  It takes incredible courage to seek asylum knowing that the process can be filled with obstacles and years of waiting.  Most of my clients are young parents with a strong desire to provide a safe environment for their children.  They often talk about how difficult the transition is for them but the hope of offering their children a life free from harm keeps them going.  They are fearless when it comes to learning ways to care for their families, regardless of the difficulties they face.  One client, in particular, asked for assistance in locating free English language courses so that he could better navigate the asylum process and help his children with their homework.  Another client was motivated to get her children an education in their new country that she enrolled them in school with minimal support from me.

I invite you to participate in a quick exercise with me: Open a new tab on your internet browser and go to Google. Type in “social services for asylum seekers.” Once you scroll past the ads, you will likely see a Google Maps search of nearby social service organizations. What are they? Who do they serve? Now, keep scrolling. What else comes up? 

For me, living in one of the five boroughs of New York City, the top three organizations that come up on Google Maps all have the terms “refugee” or “refugees” in their title. And, when I keep scrolling, I see links to organizations and programs that specifically cater to refugees and asylees (people who have already been granted asylum). But what about asylum seekers?

Across the globe, 1 in 3 women–an estimated 736 million–are subjected to physical or sexual violence perpetrated by an intimate partner, or sexual violence from a non-partner-–a number that has remained largely unchanged over the past decade (WHO, 2021). 

Unfortunately, this alarming statistic is likely to be significantly lower than the true figure, given the high levels of stigma and under-reporting of abuse. Gender-Based Violence Against Women (GBVAW) disproportionality affects low and lower-middle-income countries and regions, with twenty-two percent of women living in ‘least developed countries’ subjected to Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) in the past 12 months (WHO, 2021). The intersecting and compounding nature of violence against forced migrant women prevails across temporal and geographical contexts. GBVAW is rampant around the world and an impending cause for migration, forcing countless women and children to flee abuse at home and attempt to seek safety in a new country. 

A few years earlier, none of this was noticeable to me… I was too absorbed by my problems and my pains… my trauma was speaking louder than anything surrounding me.

I recall this day when I was walking in the streets of NYC, and I suddenly started crying – this lady stopped by and asked how she could help, I couldn’t stop crying, I just wanted my beautiful and successful past life to come back, but I knew in my inner self that this was gone forever and that I would have to adjust and adapt if I wanted to make it.