Rosbely Sira Linarez holds her baby in the north Denver encampment, where they live with other South and Central American immigrants who arrived in Colorado last year. April 24, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
hide caption
toggle caption
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Rosbely Sira Linarez holds her baby in the north Denver encampment, where they live with other South and Central American immigrants who arrived in Colorado last year. April 24, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
DENVER, Colo. — Denver is among the cities hardest hit by the arrival of migrants crossing the southwest border over the past two years. More than 40,000 people arrived, many on buses chartered by the governor of Texas. Denver provided thousands of people with shelter and other assistance. It’s been costly and exhausting, and now the city has scaled back its efforts.
When Rosbely Sira Linarez, her husband and newborn arrived here last year from Venezuela, they got state assistance to move into an apartment.
“They gave me a month of help plus the deposit,” she said in Spanish.
They found a place. This lasted about 10 months. Her husband lost his job, they lost their rent and were subsequently evicted.
“I was there until they kicked me out,” Linarez said.
They now live in one of dozens of tents clustered under a bridge on a street in north Denver, but not for too long. Police recently discovered the encampment and told residents they had to leave. Like Linarez, most here are newly arrived Venezuelan immigrants.
“Lately everything has become complicated for us,” says Linarez.
Since 2023, more than 8,000 people in Denver have received housing assistance, thanks to a state fund still available. But in March, the city began phasing out its short-term housing assistance. The problem for Linarez, and most migrants in Denver, is obtaining work authorization so they can afford their own housing.
An encampment north of Denver, populated by immigrants from South and Central America who arrived in Colorado last year. April 24, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
hide caption
toggle caption
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
An encampment north of Denver, populated by immigrants from South and Central America who arrived in Colorado last year. April 24, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
“They still have this idea that they can make it happen.”
“There are people who are going to be systematically homeless if we don’t take care of them and put them on a path to employment,” said Arthur Infante, a Denver artist who felt moved to help people in tents a few months ago.
“Those who have a work permit, they’re doing fine, man,” Infante said. “They have this idea of the American dream, and I mean, it’s even harder for us to achieve it these days, but they still have this idea that they can make it happen.”
Many migrants who landed in Denver took bus tickets that the city has offered for several years to other cities. Some, like Linarez, stuck around.
After Congress rejected a measure in February that would have sent money to help cities like Denver, Mayor Mike Johnston announced he would have to cut $45 million from other departments to meet the needs of arriving people.
“We’ve really been in kind of a backward position for 16 months,” said Jon Ewing, a spokesman for Denver Human Services.
“What we’re trying to do now is build something sustainable,” he said.
In March, Mayor Johnston said Denver needed to cut services for newcomers. In April, he announced that the city would house around 800 people for six months, while asylum applications were processed and work authorization granted – far fewer than the thousands formerly housed in shelters. hotel run by the city last winter.
“We’re going to provide … workforce training. We’re going to provide them with housing assistance,” Ewing said.
People like Linarez, who have already received some help, but are now living under a bridge, are not eligible and are left to their own devices.
“I think we all know we can’t be all things to all people. No city can,” Ewing said.
In April, Denver began sending city staff to Texas to inform potential travelers that there are now few resources available if they decide to come here.
The kindness of strangers
But as official resources dwindle, Denver-area residents continue to step up to try to provide safe, sustainable places for people to live.
Hengerlyth Jimenez said, in Spanish, that his little family is just beginning their life here, made possible by the kindness of a stranger.
“I was like, well, I have this fully functional space where people could live rather than under a bridge,” said this stranger, Emilie Mitcham, who lives in a Denver suburb. She met Jimenez and another mother through an online support group and offered her house.
Hengarlyth Jimenez (left to right) and her son Alan, Neydira López and daughter Fabiola, and Mountain View Mayor Emilie Mitcham sit outside Mitcham’s duplex, which she opened to mothers as they are pursuing their own futures in Colorado. May 4, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
hide caption
toggle caption
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Hengarlyth Jimenez (left to right) and her son Alan, Neydira López and daughter Fabiola, and Mountain View Mayor Emilie Mitcham sit outside Mitcham’s duplex, which she opened to mothers as they are pursuing their own futures in Colorado. May 4, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
“One of the women was pregnant. So, a pregnant woman with another little kid on the street in flip-flops? Yes, of course, I’ll help them if I can,” Mitcham said.
The humanitarian group says it has helped about 500 people find arrangements like this, and now Denver residents can call 211 to sign up as a host. It’s a happy medium between a full lease which can be difficult to maintain and a tent.
For Jimenez and other migrants, it may be the lead they need to succeed in this expensive city.
“Poco difícil, mais, sí, se puede. Sí, se puede. Sí, se puede.” It’s difficult, Jimenez says, but it’s possible.
NPR News
