By Francesca Allodi-Ross, Executive Director
Jesus and Bea were so close to reaching safety in the US. Forced to flee Venezuela with their three children, they settled in Peru for two years. They enjoyed their life and thought they had found a new home. Then a gang told Jesus, a nurse, that they were giving him a second job: tending to injured gang members. And that he needed to pay a monthly fee for this privilege. The family was on the run again.
Through the Panamanian jungle, through Central America, through Mexico, they finally made it to the US border. Surviving extortion and kidnappings, they managed to get an appointment at the US border to begin their refugee claim. But on January 20, 2025, their hopes and those of thousands of others were dashed. President Trump returned to power and indefinitely suspended all refugee admissions.
I met Jesus and his family at a shelter for migrants in northern Mexico in February 2025. I was invited to join the annual Jesuit Migration Network Gathering, which brought together 36 members of the network, including representatives from Jesuit universities, advocacy groups, and organizations doing social service, accompaniment, and pastoral ministry with migrants. We gathered in McAllen, Texas, and took a couple of trips across the US-Mexico border to visit migrant shelters in Reynosa and Matamoros.
Jesus and his family were one of only dozens of families that remained after January 20. Many had taken the free buses offered by the Mexican government back down to the border with Guatemala. Those remaining were stuck because kidnappers had stolen their documents, waiting for papers to be able to stay in Mexico, working to save money for the journey south, or hoping beyond hope that something might change and they could still enter the US.
The shelter reminded me of Romero House in some ways, especially lifting up joy amidst suffering. One of the days we were there, a group of nuns had organized elaborate activities for families to mark Valentine’s Day (the Day of Friendship and Love, in Spanish). Drawing, hula hoops, ring toss, temporary tattoos, homemade cupcakes. Life continues, laughter flows.
On the other hand, the contrast with Romero House was heartbreaking. Jesus’ family was just like countless families that have come through the Romero doors, only without the happy ending. Families at Romero House are also in limbo, waiting for their refugee claims to be processed, but they know they will most likely be successful. And they can work and study English and be safe while they wait. In Mexico, families risk kidnapping or worse if they leave the walls of the shelter. And their future is far less certain. In moments of pause between silly activities, I saw worry creep onto Bea’s brow.
I realized in that shelter how much suffering we in Canada aren’t seeing and won’t see. And that this is intentional. The trip illuminated the extent to which Canada is pushing border enforcement beyond our actual borders. We reimposed a visa on Mexico, have reduced the number of visas granted for many countries, and expanded the Safe Third Country Agreement that requires people to make a refugee claim in the US if they arrive there first.
The fewer the migrants that make it to the US, the fewer can cross the land border into Canada. So even though we don’t set US immigration policy, those who want fewer refugees to make it to Canada quietly benefit from US behaviour. Even before Trump, the US had been pressuring Mexico and Central American governments to reduce migration north and they did. In January 2024, almost 35,000 people crossed the Darien Gap between Colombia and Panama; in January 2025, that number dropped to 2,158. And this in turn reduces the number of people that reach the Canada-US border.
Canada is geographically quite isolated and has never faced the same levels of spontaneous arrivals that many other countries have. Countries like Colombia, Germany, Iran, Turkey, and Uganda, who together host almost one third of the world’s 43.7 million refugees and other people in need of protection. It’s easier to talk about welcoming refugees when the numbers are low. Now that Canada is seeing its highest number of refugee claimants ever–171,900 in 2024–we need to wrestle with where we actually stand.
My trip to the border gave me strength in my resolve to stand with migrants. With parents like Jesus and Bea trying to keep their kids safe. One of my inspirations for taking this trip was reading Jonathan Blitzer’s book Everyone Who is Gone is Here. It documents the many ways in which the US has contributed to the flow of refugees it sees from Latin America–from supporting repressive regimes, to fueling climate change that destroys livelihoods, to deporting gang members that terrorize so many.
I encourage us all to learn about and talk about migration with our friends, families, and other communities. Right-wing media, opportunistic politicians and billionaires are talking about it. Many of us know the blessing that it is to welcome migrants, and we hope that these exclusionary voices will just go away. But they won’t. And if we don’t do something, they will win. Let’s continue to stand for justice and compassion (to say nothing of addressing our labour shortages) by saying yes to refugees.