Victoria entered the United States through a legal port of entry in November 2023. Fleeing persecution from the Salvadoran militarized police, she made the journey to the U.S. with nothing but the clothes on her back, while holding the hand of her 8 year-old son.
It took them nearly a month to arrive.
There was no certainty that they would make it to the U.S.-Mexico border, but that did not matter. Her American Dream was 1,121 miles away and Victoria was determined to make her dream a reality.
But, things didn't pan out the way Victoria had envisioned. Stories of the United States being a land of refuge for people like her painted a warm image in her mind of a country that would be sympathetic to her family's circumstances. Instead, she was met with a much colder reality.
Victoria's asylum case has been in a state of limbo for well over a year. Refugees are not given work permits as they undergo the asylum process. To make ends meet, she has had to work under the table at hotels and restaurants in Reno where she continues to await her fate.
Because of her legal situation, KUNR agreed to identify her by the pseudonym "Victoria."
Although she was determined to do everything by the book, the rules kept changing. Immigration policy in the United States now looks vastly different than it did when she first crossed in 2023.
"Ya no es un sueño americano," Victoria said. "Hoy yo le digo temor americano." (It's no longer the American Dream. I now call it the American Nightmare.")
"Tú te andas escondiendo de inmigración, tú sales de tu trabajo y andas pendiente que no hay inmigración. Vienes a tu trabajo y tú andas pendiente que no esté inmigración. ¿Entonces, qué sueño americano es ese? No lo es." (You're hiding from immigration. You leave work and you're on the lookout for immigration. You go to work and you're hoping that immigration is not there. So, what kind of American Dream is that? That is not it)
Without a guaranteed path to legal status in the United States, many migrants have begun to question if their dreams can still flourish on U.S. soil. Nevertheless, some migrants still chase the American Dream. Only this time with the aim of reaching a border a little further north.
This was the reality for Arturo Macias Franco, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Alberta, Edmonton, in Canada. Macias lived without legal status in the United States for 13 years. He arrived when he was 17 years old. Macias set his sights on higher education eventually earning a doctorate in animal and rangeland sciences.
In 2024, he was faced with an impossible decision: remain in the U.S. without the opportunity to work in his field of study or relocate.
"I love research, I love the work that I do" Macias said . "But if I was to stay in the United States just to stay in the United States, that would be stepping away from my dreams."
"I had to decide to continue following my dreams, and that was moving to Canada."
In the past eight years, Canada has become an increasingly popular destination for refugees from other countries in the Americas.
The number of Mexican asylum seeking applicants increased from 260 in 2016 to 31,691 last year. That's according to Canada's Immigration and Refugee Board.
But it's not just Mexicans looking to Canada. It's also seeing an increase in applicants from Colombia, Venezuela and Chile.
"There's clearly a lot of people who are interested in migrating on humanitarian grounds and are fleeing persecution of some kind," said Dr. Ryan Allen, associate dean of research at the University of Minnesota, whose research with the Minnesota Extension Community Development includes rural migration trends.
"If they no longer see the United States as a welcome spot, they're going to find another place," Allen said.
Immigration policy put into action by the Trump Administration has slowed down migration into the United States at the Southwest Border by a significant amount. In June, U.S. Border Patrol reported a total of 9,306 refugees attempting to enter through ports of entry at the southern border, compared to 130,415 during the same month last year.
Even with migration slowing down, Allen believes that the natural flow of human movement cannot be stopped.
"Long standing pathways of migration that, while they may be reduced in the short run, will not be eliminated," Allen said. "I foresee a future where the migration flows continue at the rates that we historically have experienced after the political environment changes."
For this reason, Allen has not given up on the idea of the American Dream. To him, history is on the side of the migrant.
However not all migrants can be as certain as Allen. As ICE ramps up detentions to keep up with the President's demands, many migrants have had to come to terms with the reality that they might be the next ones detained.
"Tengo un amigo que ya tiene dos meses y no se sabe nada. Pagaron la fianza, pero la fianza le queda al gobierno. Pero es mentira. No salió y entonces ya no se sabe," Victoria said. (I have a friend who has been detained for two months, and we don't know anything. They paid the bail, but the money just goes to the government. It's all a lie. He wasn't released, so we don't know anything anymore.)
She's already started thinking about Canada as a viable alternative.
In September, Victoria is set to go in front of an immigration judge for a final merit hearing. Though she wants to have faith in the system, recent detentions have made her wary. Soon she will face an impossible decision: remain in the U.S. or relocate.
"Canadá tiene muchas oportunidades, la verdad. Este sería uno de mis planes, que si acá no me dan mi asilo, recurrir a Canadá, Canadá siento que es un poquito más flexible en esto hoy en día," she said. (Canada has lots of opportunities, really. That's one of my plans if I am not granted asylum, I'll go to Canada. It feels like Canada is a little more flexible with this.)
Despite relocating in 2024, Macias says his decision was not influenced by the dawn of the second Trump Administration.
"I learned to be distrustful of both sides. I was there for three presidential elections during my whole journey. It went from left to right to left, then to right again right when I left, and there was a lot of empty promises that were never fulfilled," he said.
Macias believes that the American Dream is personal to the migrant and not something confined to American borders.
"I love the [United States], and maybe one day, if my American dream continues to lead me there, maybe I'll return," Macias said.
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