Gabi lies on the cold pavement just outside a doorway, a bright rainbow scarf tucked beneath her jacket to create a double layer over the mask. The hood of a rain jacket drapes over a black hat, and her ungloved hands are folded under her arms. It is early morning on the first night of December in New York, and she is a 47-year-old Colombian woman resting on the chill of the sidewalk near Saint Brigid’s former Catholic school.
Just after seven in the morning, sleep is scarce, but many are focused on something other than rest. In line, a long queue forms—a serpentine line that grows behind her with hundreds of people. Undocumented adults and refugees, many from African nations, seek shelter beds for the next 30 days, a safety net that not everyone will obtain.
This corner of the East Village stands as a stark reminder of New York’s persistent crisis: a surge of immigrant arrivals, more than 140,000 since the spring of last year, driven by homelessness, stark inequality, and a housing market that remains fragile. The city has hosted more than 65,000 refugees in municipal facilities or through city-funded services, a burden the budget struggles to absorb. The conversation has grown contentious, with some politicians proposing drastic shifts to asylum and shelter policies.
Old St. Louis in the East Village, where immigrants could apply for shelter beds or receive assistance, near Saint Brigid Catholic School.
Adams’ Controversial Measures
Since May, the mayor has faced legal battles over attempts to end the city’s long-standing policy that supports asylum claims. That policy, in place for over four decades, provides resources to those who qualify for as long as necessary. While the legal fight continues, late September saw the city begin informing adult immigrants about shelter options, with warnings that stays may be limited to 30 days. Some may need to reapply, while others could end up in temporary centers or holding facilities where sleeping on the floor is common, such as in the Bronx.
The mayor argues that the city’s financial burden could exceed projections, pointing to a potential 12 billion-dollar cost over three years. Critics contend that cuts to other budget areas and questions about federal policy and support have left the city exposed. The number of arrivals remains high, with thousands more seeking shelter each week, drawing concerns from humanitarian groups and community organizations working with migrants.
Advocates warn that the policy shift could accelerate homelessness during a brutal New York winter and make it harder for families and individuals to find stability. The moves also raise questions about how notifications related to work permits or asylum proceedings are handled and how people can plan for the long term when shelter options tighten.
The city has also extended temporary housing restrictions for families with children, setting deadlines meant to push people toward alternative arrangements. Beginning in late December, some families may be asked to leave shelters and move toward other accommodations, raising alarms about the potential impact on children, including those with disabilities who rely on school and stable routines.
Deterrent Effect and Public Response
While the council has not framed the policy changes as deterrence, many observers see the measures as aimed at discouraging new arrivals. Governor Kathy Hochul acknowledged the need to set limits, underscoring a broader message to the world about immigration thresholds. Attention to these policies has also focused on centers that offer transportation or exit options, where researchers have tracked how many migrants choose to leave voluntarily. A local investigative piece reported that a small fraction of participants accepted departures, with rates dropping to very low levels over time.
Gabi remains among those who do not intend to depart voluntarily. Court dates for asylum hearings keep her in New York, where she describes a daily reality of moving between shelters, standing in lines, and sleeping on hard floors during some nights. She characterizes the process as ongoing and, in her words, an investment in possible stability rather than a straightforward path to the American dream. The sense she conveys is that, for many, the struggle to belong and to belong safely is ongoing and deeply personal.
As winter looms, concerns about the capacity of social services, the continuity of housing options, and the well-being of vulnerable individuals—especially children—continue to fuel public debate. The human impact of these policies remains central to conversations among families, advocates, and municipal leaders as New York tries to navigate a rapidly changing landscape of shelter, support, and security. In this tense moment, the stories of people like Gabi highlight the complex interplay between policy, money, and the very real need for shelter and dignity in a city that never stops asking questions about who belongs and who has a place to sleep at night.