When he stepped onto the tarmac of Cap-Haïtien airport earlier this month, Edrisse Michelin, 32, did not feel like he was coming home.
The man, who arrived in the United States at age three and built a family in South Florida, was deported after serving a federal sentence.
His return to Haiti — a country he barely knows — starkly illustrates the human toll of deportations. This is especially evident at a time when the future of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) remains uncertain for hundreds of thousands of Haitian families.
The man, who arrived in the United States at age three and built a family in South Florida, was deported after serving a federal sentence.
His return to Haiti — a country he barely knows — starkly illustrates the human toll of deportations. This is especially evident at a time when the future of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) remains uncertain for hundreds of thousands of Haitian families.
According to Black Enterprise, Michelin grew up in Florida and attended school there. He worked as a real estate agent and insurance broker, maintained a stable family life, and lived as a lawful permanent resident in the United States.
His life changed in 2020 when he was convicted for fraudulently obtaining a PPP loan—an offense he calls “the mistake of a lifetime.”
After more than two years in federal prison, he was transferred to immigration detention and then placed on a deportation flight with about 120 people, according to CBS News.
His life changed in 2020 when he was convicted for fraudulently obtaining a PPP loan—an offense he calls “the mistake of a lifetime.”
After more than two years in federal prison, he was transferred to immigration detention and then placed on a deportation flight with about 120 people, according to CBS News.
A Return Experienced as a Complete Break
For Michelin, the shock has been almost unbearable, a wave of dislocation that sweeps him daily.
“I wake up here without feeling like I’m at home. Everything is unfamiliar,” he told Black Enterprise.
He stumbles through Creole, painfully aware he cannot connect even through language, with no family to anchor him, adrift in a country whose streets and faces are lost to his past.
Even the deportation process was grueling: hours spent shackled, fear rising with each transfer, and on arrival in Cap-Haïtien, deportees were handed a token sum and left in a haze of uncertainty.
His wife, an American citizen, travelled to Haiti despite security risks to meet him. The couple is now trying to adapt in a country where movement is restricted by gangs and economic opportunities are scarce. Public services function at a minimum, and medical infrastructure is strained.
As a family member quoted by CBS News put it:
“Even for someone born here, life is difficult. For someone returning after thirty years, it’s a total shock.”
Their blended family includes eight children, some of whom had not seen their father in years. Michelin’s wife regularly posts updates about their situation on social media to preserve a sense of continuity.
A Story That Widely Resonates Among Haitians in the United States
Michelin’s case comes as more than 330,000 Haitians currently benefit from TPS, a humanitarian status granted due to ongoing instability in Haiti.
That protection expires on February 3, and uncertainty hangs over whether it will be renewed.
That protection expires on February 3, and uncertainty hangs over whether it will be renewed.
The prospect of thousands of deportations is deeply troubling for the diaspora. For people like Michelin, who have spent almost their entire lives in the United States, a forced return means:
- losing cultural and linguistic bearings,
- family separations that can become permanent,
- resettlement in a country facing a deep crisis,
- and immediate exposure to social and economic hardship.
“Resources are limited here. If thousands of people are sent back at once, many will be lost as soon as they arrive,”
Michelin warns.
He and his family are now trying to obtain visas in a third country, hoping to reunite elsewhere. However, options are shrinking. Many countries have imposed restrictions on applications from Haiti because of the country’s volatile situation.
In the meantime, he describes his life as suspended:
“I’m stuck between everything I’ve known my whole life and a country I no longer really belong to.”
His ordeal exposes an often unseen truth: every deportation tears apart a life, a family, a future. For Haitians clinging to TPS, the shadow of loss looms ever larger, darkening hopes for tomorrow.
