The usual bustling scene at Samy’s Manhattan garage has been replaced by an eerie stillness. Where 30 food carts once lined up, ready to offer their wares – from halal bites to hot dogs and icy treats – most now languish inside, their owners and workers hiding from the fear that grips the city’s immigrant community. This isn’t just a matter of lost business; it’s a matter of survival.
The shift began in the days leading up to President Trump’s inauguration, fueled by his hardline stance on immigration and promises of a widespread deportation sweep. “Some vendors we work with are in their homes behind locked doors now, too scared to leave,” says Samy, the garage owner, who along with his family has operated their business for generations. An american citizen himself, he fears for his business after requesting anonymity due to the heightened anxiety surrounding immigration enforcement.samy reveals, “We can’t just keep the door open like before anymore. we always keep the gate closed and installed cameras to check on who’s knocking. Everybody is expecting a raid at any moment now, and it’s terrifying for most of us.”
President Trump’s recent actions have intensified this fear. He has deputized thousands of additional federal law enforcement officers to carry out his “deportation agenda,” stating that the United States has become “like a garbage can for the world.”
This isn’t just rhetoric. Many parents are keeping their children out of city schools. A key factor behind this exodus is the recent removal of a longstanding policy that barred immigration enforcement agents from entering “sensitive locations” like schools.
While the Trump management insists its focus is on violent criminals, NBC News cites a “senior Trump official” reporting that a staggering 48% of those arrested by ICE on a recent Sunday were not considered criminal offenders. Their only offense? Entering the country without documentation. This starkly contrasts with the previous year under the Biden administration, where 72% of ICE arrests involved individuals with criminal records.
The climate is thick with unease, leaving street vendors like those in Samy’s garage vulnerable and anxious. Police scrutiny of street vendors was already on the rise even before Mayor Eric Adams’ embrace of Trump. Police issued 1,504 criminal summonses to street vendors between January and September 2024,surpassing the total number issued in all of 2023.
Despite the rising tide of criminal summonses, the NYPD maintains that its officers are bound by sanctuary city laws and are prohibited from taking part in civil immigration enforcement.
However, the reality on the ground paints a more complicated picture. The fear is palpable, the uncertainty gnaws at the lives of countless families, and the threat of being torn apart by deportation looms large.
for Samy and countless othre street vendors in new York City, the future looks uncertain, their dreams and livelihoods hanging in the balance.
Amidst the hustle and bustle of New York City, where diversity thrives, discussions surrounding street vendors are always in the spotlight. While the city thrives on the vibrant energy thes vendors bring, navigating the complexities of their presence, especially regarding immigration status, remains a challenge.
A meaningful portion of the city’s estimated 23,000 street vendors were born outside the United States, with 96% hailing from foreign lands. This intricate relationship between immigrant communities and street vending highlights the crucial role these vendors play in the city’s cultural and economic fabric.
There’s a continuous push to find a balance – providing opportunities for economic empowerment while addressing concerns surrounding immigration enforcement. A spokesperson for the city highlighted this delicate equilibrium, stating, “ Simultaneously occurring, members of service will not take any action that will interfere with or impede civil immigration enforcement undertaken by federal authorities.”The lifeblood of New York City’s vibrant street food scene is under threat. Mayor Adams, while urging immigrants to utilize city services, simultaneously champions proposals to erode sanctuary city protections and blames migrants for the city’s woes. This stark contradiction lies at the heart of the struggle faced by countless street vendors, many of whom are undocumented immigrants.
Carina Kaufman-Gutierrez, deputy director of the Street Vendor Project, underscores this hypocrisy, stating, “So many city leaders are saying ‘Trump is doing this, and Trump is doing that, how awful,’ but take a look at the mirror and see what the policies that exist in the city right now are allowing.”
Just hours after voicing these concerns, Kaufman-Gutierrez personally witnessed the agonizing reality of this situation. She escorted a street vendor facing deportation to criminal court, a outcome of a seemingly innocuous unlicensed vending ticket. While the ticket was ultimately dismissed, the experience highlighted the precariousness of their situation.
“Any arrest or ticket, even where a case is dismissed, can be used as a negative factor resulting in deportation,” explains Yasmine Farhang, director of advocacy for the Immigrant Defense Project.
The emotional toll on these vendors is immense.Lola, a 45-year-old vendor from Ecuador, exemplifies this fear. “Oh my god, you know, I am vrey scared,” she confides. Facing a deportation proceeding due to missing immigration paperwork, her income has plummeted, forcing her to scale back her work hours to avoid potential legal trouble. “I don’t receive any public assistance,” she says. “I don’t come here to be a public nuisance.”
Lola’s story, and those of countless other street vendors, paints a stark picture of the human cost of policies that criminalize poverty and immigration. The demand for extensive reform that includes repealing criminal liability for street vending and lifting the cap on vending licenses is growing louder, reflecting the undeniable need for a more equitable and humane approach to this vital industry.
Maria Marta, a Times Square vendor, is facing an unsettling reality. She says NYPD officers have informed her that selling churros in the iconic square is prohibited. She fears that any interaction with law enforcement could lead to her deportation, revealing her vulnerability. “I’m really concerned as I heard what usually happens with underage children is that they’re either given away or they’re separated from their families,” she shared, expressing her deep anxieties.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the East River, Abdul, an undocumented migrant from Egypt, navigates the complexities of working as a cook on a licensed Halal truck. As the presidential election, he has accumulated five criminal tickets from the police. These range from being deemed non-compliant for not visibly displaying his permit at the start of his shift to a violation for not wearing gloves during a break.
Abdul, speaking through an interpreter from the Street Vendor Project, expresses his growing fear in Arabic: “The more criminal tickets I get, the more I have to go to criminal court, and the more I’m worried they’re gonna catch me.”
The escalating tension between undocumented migrants and law enforcement, exemplified by Marta and Abdul’s experiences, paints a stark picture of the challenges faced by migrant communities in the wake of political and social shifts.Abdul, a family man struggling to make ends meet in New York, used to be an accountant back in his native Egypt. He and his wife, along with their four children and mother, moved to the United States five years ago, seeking a better life. Housing in their cramped two-bedroom basement apartment is a constant struggle. “Sometimes I regret coming here without knowing what it would really be like,” he confessed, the weight of obligation heavy on his shoulders. His wife and children, he added, often challenge his optimistic narratives about the american Dream, their doubts growing with each passing day.
Samy, another immigrant entrepreneur, arrived in New York from Egypt with his family when he was just 10 years old. Having overstayed their tourist visas, his father began working as a food vendor, a path that Samy followed himself at 18, starting with a hot dog cart and later branching out into halal food. By 24, he had married and eventually earned US citizenship, a symbol of achievement for many.
In 2017, after years of saving, Samy and his family built a garage in Manhattan to house their food carts. This was a testament to their hard work and dedication,a tangible sign of their American Dream in progress. They poured their hearts into the construction, working alongside fellow immigrants from Egypt and Mexico – a brotherhood of dreamers seeking a better life. “Folks who look like me and my family,” Samy fondly recalled.
Their dream, though, has hit a significant roadblock. With the current climate of fear and uncertainty, Samy’s vendors have chosen to stay home, afraid to risk immigration enforcement. “My income is down 80%,” a somber Samy revealed, the consequences of the changing landscape starkly visible.
the garage, once a symbol of hope and progress, now stands as a reminder of the challenges faced by immigrant entrepreneurs.
The streets of New York City are known for their hustle and bustle, but one vendor, Samy, sees a new kind of energy – one tinged with fear. He’s been selling food on the streets for years, but he says the current climate is unlike anything he’s ever known.
“If things keep going at this rate for a couple of months and things don’t get better I might be forced to shut down and go out of business,” Samy warns. “I’m gonna lose my business, my housing, and then we get in line for public assistance and shelter. I would be very desperate and all my family’s business that we’ve built for decades of hard work will vanish.”
Samy admits that vending in New York City has never been easy, but the level of hostility and uncertainty he faces today is overwhelming. “I got assaulted multiple times while I was working in the streets, faced violence before, but I’ve never been scared like this,” he reveals.”This level of fear and worry is something else. “The fear of losing everything is really something I’ve never thought I’d ever experience in this country.”
His anxiety isn’t unfounded. Many of his peers share his concerns, fearing that even minor infractions could lead to deportation or jeopardize their asylum cases. “I’m worried about everybody around me: relatives, friends, co-workers, my community and neighbors,” Samy explains. “Even my bodega guy is nervous. Folks who I work with are nervous and stressed out about the future.”
Looking ahead, Samy poses a challenging question: “if they target all immigrants, and snatch away immigrants and workers from everywhere, how this economy will survive? How businesses will stay open? How families will be supported and provided for?”
His answer is stark: “The whole economy of this city will be paralyzed. There’s no way there’s any logic in this!”
What is the potential impact of increased fear and uncertainty on immigrant-owned businesses in New York City?
## “The Whole Economy Will Be Paralyzed”: An Immigrant Vendor Faces Fear and Uncertainty in New York City
The streets of New York City are known for their hustle and bustle,but one vendor,Samy,sees a new kind of energy – one tinged wiht fear. He’s been selling food on the streets for years, but he says the current climate is unlike anything he’s ever known.
A Symbol of Hope Turns to Symbol of Fear
In 2017, after years of saving, Samy and his family built a garage in Manhattan to house their food carts.This was a testament to their hard work and dedication, a tangible sign of their American Dream in progress. They poured their hearts into the construction, working alongside fellow immigrants from Egypt and Mexico – a brotherhood of dreamers seeking a better life. “Folks who look like me and my family,” Samy fondly recalled.
Their dream, though, has hit a meaningful roadblock. With the current climate of fear and uncertainty, Samy’s vendors have chosen to stay home, afraid to risk immigration enforcement. “My income is down 80%,” a somber Samy revealed, the consequences of the changing landscape starkly visible. The garage,once a symbol of hope and progress,now stands as a reminder of the challenges faced by immigrant entrepreneurs.
“If things keep going at this rate for a couple of months and things don’t get better, I might be forced to shut down and go out of business,” Samy warns. ”I’m gonna lose my business, my housing, and then we get in line for public assistance and shelter. I would be very desperate and all my family’s business that we’ve built for decades of hard work will vanish.”
A City Paralysis? The impact On Everyone
Samy admits that vending in new York City has never been easy, but the level of hostility and uncertainty he faces today is overwhelming. “I got assaulted multiple times while I was working in the streets, faced violence before, but I’ve never been scared like this,” he reveals. “This level of fear and worry is something else. The fear of losing everything is something I’ve never thought I’d ever experience in this country.”
His anxiety isn’t unfounded. Many of his peers share his concerns, fearing that even minor infractions could lead to deportation or jeopardize their asylum cases. “I’m worried about everybody around me: relatives, friends, co-workers, my community and neighbors,” Samy explains. “Even my bodega guy is nervous, Folks who I work with are nervous and stressed out about the future.”
Looking ahead, Samy poses a challenging question: “if they target all immigrants, and snatch away immigrants and workers from everywhere, how will this economy survive? How businesses will stay open? How families will be supported and provided for?”
His answer is stark: “The whole economy of this city will be paralyzed.There’s no way there’s any logic in this!”
