For Haitian women in Florida, the loss of TPS is more than an immigration law issue

The U.S. Supreme Court ruled on June 25, 2026, that the Trump administration may revoke the temporary protected status of 350,000 Haitians.

This is not the first time a legal challenge to TPS has held Haitians’ future in the balance: During his first administration, President Donald Trump attempted to terminate Haitian TPS but was blocked by a U.S. District Court ruling. With the latest Supreme Court ruling, the return of these migrants to Haiti appears to be the administration’s aim.

Haitian families, who for years have lived under the uncertainty of their TPS renewal, now face a new and more immediate uncertainty: What losing TPS could mean for their ability to work, remain with their families and plan for the future.

Research on migration-related stress suggests that these consequences may weigh especially heavily on Haitian women.

As a Haitian public health researcher, I understand the consequences of this decision through a dual lens. Research in my field helps me examine how it may affect Haitian women’s emotional well-being, mental health and resilience.

At the same time, as an international graduate student I have experienced how U.S. immigration and travel policies can affect the lives and opportunities of people from Haiti. I’ve also watched relatives who migrated from Haiti navigate the migration system directly. These experiences have shown me that immigration decisions are rarely just about paperwork. They are also about rent, work, children, remittances and the fear of starting over again.

Building community in uncertainty

Many Haitian TPS holders have been living in the U.S. for years, some since 2010 when Haiti was first designated for TPS after the devastating earthquake that killed more than 220,000 people, injured 300,000 and displaced 1.5 million.

Florida is central to their story: Nearly half of the 1.1 million Haitian immigrants to the U.S. live in the Sunshine State, with especially large communities in Broward, Miami-Dade and Palm Beach counties.

Over time, Haitian women have built lives and sustained communities as parents, workers, churchgoers, students and caregivers.

The Supreme Court ruling now threatens both their families’ stability and the Florida communities shaped by their work, care and participation.

Haitian women as ‘poto mitan’ in the US

Haitian women’s social roles are often understood through the concept of poto mitan, Haitian Creole for “central pole.” Women are the central pillars of family and community life.

Many have continued to support children, parents and relatives in Haiti while working, parenting, paying bills and contributing to the local economies in their Florida communities.

The Supreme Court ruling intensifies the pressure behind these roles. Some women may now face painful decisions about their U.S.-born children: Should they take them to Haiti, where they may encounter safety concerns, disrupted schooling and an unfamiliar environment? Or should the children remain in the United States, separated from their parents?

For many Haitian mothers, children’s well-being is at the center of such decisions. In my research with climate-displaced communities in northwest Haiti, the illness of one’s child or children emerged among the leading sources of anxiety. So it’s not surprising that concerns around children’s health and safety weigh so heavily on women in this moment.

Responsibilities across borders

Research on Haitian immigrants found that migration-related stress can involve financial strain, language barriers, discrimination, family separation, loss of social networks and difficulty navigating work and daily life. Other studies on Haitians living in Haiti and the U.S. also show how Haiti’s political instability, gang violence and displacement can affect mental health across borders.

For Haitian women, this burden may include sending remittances, offering to make family decisions and caring for relatives across two countries. In fact, one U.S.-based study conducted after Haiti’s 2010 earthquake found that 65% of Haitian migrant women reported sending more money to Haiti than they had the previous year, compared with 30% of men.

These responsibilities can be sources of strength and connection, but they can also produce guilt, worry, exhaustion and distress when needs are urgent and resources are limited.

Research on Haitian populations in Florida has shown higher levels of migration-related stress among women than men, although the health effects of TPS uncertainty among Haitian women remain understudied. Similarly, broader research into caregiving has found links between prolonged financial and emotional stress and anxiety, depressive symptoms, sleep problems, exhaustion and declining physical health.

These overlapping demands show why immigration decisions, such as the TPS ruling, can affect Haitian women’s mental and physical health far beyond their legal status. Those pressures are compounded by the conditions they and their families may face in Haiti.

What returning to Haiti could mean

For many Haitian women, the prospect of returning to Haiti raises serious safety concerns as well.

Over the past decade, the country has faced repeated natural disasters along with slow recovery, political upheaval, economic hardship, food insecurity and escalating gang violence.

By March 2026, violence and instability had displaced more than 1.4 million people on the island. Schools and hospitals have been disrupted, families have been forced from their homes, and access to work and essential services has become increasingly limited. Given these conditions, returning may feel neither safe nor realistic for many families.

In this context women and girls face particular risks of sexual and gender-based violence. As a result, parents must consider not only their own safety but also what returning could mean for their children’s security, schooling and ability to remain with their families.

Resilience in uncertain times

For Haitian women already carrying extensive emotional and caregiving responsibilities, the loss of TPS adds another layer of pressure, turning an immigration decision into difficult choices about the future of entire families. These women’s strength, leadership and commitment to family are central to their communities in Florida and beyond. This is where their resilience comes in.

Although the Supreme Court ruling resolved the legal question before the court, it did not remove the uncertainty looming over Haitian families. Instead, it shifted that uncertainty into urgent decisions about safety, work, parenting, family separation and how to remain connected across two countries. And much of the responsibility for navigating what comes next is likely to fall disproportionately on Haitian women.