Kateryna Golizdra hasn’t worked in six months, can no longer afford health insurance for a chronic liver condition, and lives each day wondering if federal immigration agents might arrest her. The 35-year-old former Ritz-Carlton manager who fled Ukraine’s war now finds herself trapped in an unexpected American nightmare: bureaucratic limbo that has stripped away her legal status, income and sense of security.
Golizdra represents one face of a humanitarian crisis unfolding across the United States, where nearly 200,000 Ukrainian refugees face deportation risk as the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown has ground a Biden-era refugee program to a virtual standstill. Internal U.S. government data reviewed by Reuters reveals the scope of the crisis, previously unreported, affecting individuals who followed legal channels to escape Russian invasion only to find themselves effectively abandoned by American bureaucracy.
The scale of those affected—197,000 Ukrainians as of March 31 according to government records—represents roughly three-quarters of all Ukrainians admitted under the humanitarian program launched in April 2022. When her permission to remain in the United States expired in May, Golizdra instantly became vulnerable to arrest and deportation despite having committed no violation. She lost not only her work authorization but her job earning over $50,000 annually, her employer-provided health coverage, and her ability to financially support her own displaced mother living in Germany.
From War Zone to Work Authorization Void
The humanitarian parole program for Ukrainians, introduced by former President Joe Biden in the early months of Russia’s full-scale invasion, ultimately admitted nearly 260,000 refugees for an initial two-year period. This represents a fraction of the 5.9 million Ukrainian refugees worldwide, with 5.3 million sheltered in European nations according to United Nations refugee agency figures. The program offered temporary haven but required periodic renewal—a process that has effectively collapsed under the current administration.
Reuters interviewed two dozen Ukrainians who lost work permits and employment due to processing delays, painting a portrait of cascading consequences affecting individuals across professional sectors. The group included technology workers, educators, financial professionals, designers and students—people who had established lives, careers and tax-paying status in American communities before administrative dysfunction stripped away their legal foundation.
Their accounts describe a desperate scramble to maintain survival: depleting personal savings accumulated before arrival, seeking emergency assistance from community organizations, accumulating debt to cover basic living expenses, and confronting the psychological toll of indefinite uncertainty. Several individuals interviewed expressed fear of arrest by Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents, prompting some to limit outdoor activities or avoid employment that might bring them into contact with authorities.
The Human Cost of Administrative Paralysis
Golizdra’s experience in Bucha, a Kyiv suburb, explains why return to Ukraine remains impossible for many refugees caught in America’s legal limbo. Russian forces set her home ablaze in March 2022 during their assault on the capital region. When Ukrainian troops retook Bucha, investigators discovered hundreds of bodies including civilians executed by occupying forces in what international observers characterized as war crimes. The community Golizdra knew no longer exists, destroyed by violence that made global headlines for its brutality.
Yet the alternative—remaining in the United States without legal status—creates what Golizdra describes as life on a “hamster wheel” of constant anxiety. “It’s constant stress, anxiety,” she told Reuters. “If I will need to leave the States, then I will have to build something again.” The prospect of uprooting once more, after fleeing war and establishing a foothold in America, represents psychological exhaustion layered atop material hardship.
Three former immigration officials interviewed by Reuters confirmed that Ukrainians whose humanitarian parole has expired face potential arrest by federal authorities, despite having entered the country legally and violated no terms of their admission. This creates a perverse outcome where individuals who followed established legal procedures now face the same enforcement actions as those who entered without authorization.
Policy Whiplash and Processing Collapse
The Trump administration’s approach to Ukrainian humanitarian parole has undergone multiple shifts, creating confusion and instability for refugees attempting to maintain legal status. Officials paused application and renewal processing in January, citing security concerns that were not elaborated upon publicly. This freeze affected not only new applications but renewals for individuals whose two-year parole periods were approaching expiration.
In March, following what sources described as a contentious Oval Office meeting with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy, Trump publicly contemplated completely revoking legal status for all Ukrainians admitted under the program. Reuters first reported the administration was considering this dramatic action, which would have rendered quarter-million people immediately deportable regardless of their circumstances or compliance with program requirements.
The administration ultimately did not terminate the program entirely. In May, a federal judge ordered officials to resume processing renewal applications, seemingly resolving the crisis. However, government data released last week as part of ongoing litigation reveals the minimal impact of that court order: U.S. immigration officials processed only 1,900 renewal applications for Ukrainians and other nationalities in the months since the judge’s directive—a tiny fraction of those with expiring status.
Financial Barriers Compound Processing Failures
Beyond processing paralysis, the Trump administration and Congress have erected new financial obstacles. A spending package signed into law by Trump in July added a $1,000 fee to humanitarian parole applications, supplementing an existing $1,325 per-person charge. For families, these fees create substantial barriers. A family of four now faces over $9,300 in government fees simply to request renewal of status that previously cost nothing to maintain.
These fees hit hardest for Ukrainians who have already lost work authorization and income while awaiting processing. Golizdra and others interviewed described the cruel paradox: they need renewed status to work legally, but cannot afford renewal fees without employment income. Some have borrowed money from friends, family or community organizations to pay fees while uncertain if applications will even be processed in time.
The White House referred questions about the Ukrainian humanitarian program to the Department of Homeland Security, which did not respond to multiple requests for comment from Reuters. This silence from officials leaves refugees and their advocates without clarity about processing timelines, approval standards, or policy intentions.
Congressional Response and Grassroots Support Networks
U.S. Representative Mike Quigley, a Democrat representing the Chicago area, told Reuters his congressional office has received requests for assistance from more than 200 Ukrainians caught in legal limbo. “There’s a fear that if they haven’t completed their application, if they haven’t gone through the whole process, they’re vulnerable for deportation,” Quigley explained. His office has attempted to intervene with immigration agencies on behalf of constituents, though with limited success given the systemic nature of processing failures.
Anne Smith, who serves as executive director and regulatory counsel of the Ukraine Immigration Task Force—a legal coalition formed specifically to assist war refugees—reported her attorney network receives multiple calls weekly from Ukrainians reporting family members detained by immigration authorities. These arrests occur in various contexts: at construction sites, during food delivery work, while driving for Uber or trucking companies, and in broader enforcement sweeps conducted in cities including Chicago and Cleveland.
The arrests illustrate how Ukrainians with expired parole become indistinguishable in enforcement terms from individuals who never possessed legal status, despite fundamentally different circumstances. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents do not distinguish between someone whose paperwork expired due to government processing failures versus someone who entered the country without authorization.
Brian Snyder, a product marketing manager in Raleigh, North Carolina who has sponsored three Ukrainian families through the humanitarian program, described the unfairness of penalizing people who followed established legal processes. One Ukrainian woman recently asked if he would serve as her emergency contact should immigration officers arrest her—a request reflecting the fear pervading these communities. Snyder knows another family where authorities renewed parole for a teenage son while leaving parents and two younger children in expired status, creating the nightmare scenario of potential family separation.
“All of this dysfunction and uncertainty is just introducing a tremendous amount of stress in these families’ lives,” Snyder told Reuters, his frustration evident at watching people he helped bring to America now facing consequences for bureaucratic failures beyond their control.
The Self-Deportation Phenomenon
Six of the 24 Ukrainians interviewed by Reuters have chosen to leave the United States rather than risk immigration detention or deportation to unexpected destinations. The Trump administration has developed a practice of deporting individuals to third countries—including locations in Latin America and Africa—when their home countries prove difficult deportation destinations. This policy creates additional uncertainty for Ukrainians weighing whether to remain in legal limbo or depart voluntarily.
Yevhenii Padafa’s story exemplifies the impossible choices facing refugees whose legal status has expired. The 31-year-old software engineer moved to Brooklyn in September 2023, building a life and career in New York’s technology sector. He applied to renew his humanitarian parole in March, following procedures exactly as required. His application languished in bureaucratic processing until his status expired in September, rendering him deportable despite having done nothing wrong.
Worried that remaining in the United States without legal status could result in a bar preventing future return, Padafa decided to attempt “self deportation” using a government application called CBP One. The Trump administration announced in May it would provide free outbound plane tickets and $1,000 “exit bonuses” for those using the app to voluntarily depart—an incentive program designed to reduce detention and formal deportation costs.
Padafa chose Argentina as his destination, drawn by lower living costs compared to Western Europe and by Argentina’s own humanitarian program accepting Ukrainian refugees. However, the CBP One application would not process a ticket to Buenos Aires. When Padafa contacted a U.S. border official for clarification, he received a stark answer: the system would only book flights to Ukraine itself.
This policy effectively forces refugees to choose between remaining illegally in America or returning directly to an active war zone. For Padafa, neither option was acceptable. He scraped together money for a commercial ticket to Argentina, arriving in Buenos Aires in mid-November with minimal funds and planning to sell his laptop to cover initial apartment rent.
“If I return to Ukraine, I’ll just go to the frontline,” Padafa told Reuters, referring to mandatory military conscription awaiting men of fighting age. “I’d rather be homeless somewhere than go to Ukraine.”
Legal Challenges and Uncertain Outcomes
The lawsuit that prompted release of government processing data represents one avenue advocates are pursuing to force administrative action. The litigation revealed the stark gap between judicial orders to resume processing and actual implementation—only 1,900 renewals processed despite tens of thousands pending. Courts can order agencies to perform duties, but enforcing compliance and ensuring adequate processing speed remains challenging.
Legal experts note that humanitarian parole, by its nature, offers less robust protections than formal refugee status or asylum. The program grants temporary permission to remain in the United States for urgent humanitarian reasons, but does not provide a pathway to permanent residency. Parole recipients must continually renew their status and remain vulnerable to policy changes that can eliminate the program or refuse renewals.
This legal vulnerability distinguishes Ukrainians admitted under humanitarian parole from refugees admitted through traditional resettlement programs, who receive more stable legal status with eventual pathways to citizenship. The Biden administration chose humanitarian parole for speed and simplicity, allowing rapid admission of Ukrainians fleeing invasion without navigating complex refugee processing. That choice, pragmatic in 2022, now leaves quarter-million people dependent on discretionary renewals that the current administration appears unwilling to process efficiently.
Comparative Context: Other Humanitarian Programs Face Similar Fate
The collapse of Ukrainian parole processing fits within broader Trump administration immigration policies that have paralyzed multiple humanitarian programs. Similar parole initiatives for nationals of Haiti, Venezuela, Cuba and Nicaragua have faced processing delays, fee increases, and policy uncertainty. The pattern suggests systematic administrative decisions to slow or halt programs associated with the previous administration, regardless of humanitarian need or legal obligations.
European nations, by contrast, have maintained relatively stable policies toward Ukrainian refugees, with 5.3 million finding haven primarily in Poland, Germany, Czech Republic and other countries geographically closer to the conflict. European Union temporary protection directives grant Ukrainians work authorization and social benefits with clearer renewal processes, though pressures exist there as well as the war extends into its third year.
The United States, geographically distant from the conflict, admitted far fewer Ukrainian refugees proportionally but offered an important alternative for those with family connections, professional opportunities, or other ties to America. The program’s deterioration damages America’s credibility as a humanitarian refuge and contradicts stated policies of supporting Ukraine against Russian aggression.
Economic and Social Integration Interrupted
Before processing collapsed, many Ukrainian parolees had successfully integrated into American communities and workforce. They paid taxes, rented or purchased homes, enrolled children in schools, and contributed to local economies. Golizdra’s $50,000 annual salary at the Ritz-Carlton represented not only her financial stability but value added to her employer and tax revenue to federal and state governments.
The forced departure from employment of thousands of Ukrainians represents lost economic productivity and tax revenue. Tech workers, healthcare professionals, educators and skilled tradespeople who were filling labor market needs now sit idle, unable to work legally despite willingness and ability. Employers lose trained workers and face recruiting costs to replace them, while communities lose contributing members who had begun establishing roots.
Some Ukrainians interviewed described initial welcome from American communities transforming into awkward interactions once their legal status expired. Neighbors and friends who had embraced their arrival now don’t know how to respond to news that friendly Ukrainians down the street may be subject to deportation. Children established in schools face potential uprooting mid-year if parents decide to leave preemptively rather than risk arrest.
Looking Ahead: Uncertain Futures and Policy Questions
Golizdra told Reuters she believes she can endure another six months of limbo—matching the six months already survived. This calculation reflects both determination and desperation: she can deplete remaining savings, perhaps find cash-paying work, and maintain hope that processing will eventually resume meaningfully. But the timeframe is speculation; she has no information about when, or if, her renewal application will be adjudicated.
The broader question facing nearly 200,000 Ukrainians in similar situations is whether the Trump administration intends to process renewals at scale or allow the program to wither through administrative neglect. The latter approach avoids politically difficult decisions to formally terminate the program while achieving similar practical results—forcing Ukrainians to leave due to inability to work legally or fear of arrest.
Congressional intervention could mandate processing timelines, appropriate additional resources for adjudications, or create alternative legal pathways for affected Ukrainians. However, immigration policy remains deeply partisan, making legislative solutions unlikely absent bipartisan coalition willing to prioritize this issue over competing immigration debates.
Advocacy organizations continue providing legal assistance, financial support and policy pressure, but face resource limitations given the scale of need. The Ukraine Immigration Task Force and similar groups operate largely on donations and volunteer lawyer time, insufficient to address systemic failures in government processing.
For Ukrainians like Golizdra and Padafa, abstract policy debates translate into daily anxiety about survival, housing, medical care and basic security. They fled violence only to encounter bureaucratic violence—perhaps less visibly brutal than warfare but destructive of stability and dignity nonetheless. Whether through resumed processing, congressional action, or policy changes, resolution cannot come soon enough for those whose lives remain suspended between countries and legal categories.
