Asylum Seekers in Hell’s Kitchen Eager to Work — But Face Bureaucratic Hurdles

Asylum seekers living at The Row and The Watson, both hotels in Hell’s Kitchen that have been converted into shelters, are ready to start working and move out of the City’s care — as soon as they receive their work permits. 

Three migrant families staying at Hell’s Kitchen hotels told W42ST that it’s challenging to navigate the legal and bureaucratic process of seeking asylum in the United States, while also adapting to the fast-paced rhythms of New York City. They want to work, but are unable to legally without a permit, which they can only receive six months after submitting an asylum application. 

Asylum seekers have one year after arriving in the US to file a claim, and some of the families speaking to W42ST have yet to do so. In total, they could be waiting as long as 18 months before they are allowed to work.

“We want to work, but they have us stuck without the permits,” said Luis, sitting outside the Watson Hotel (W57th St bw 9th/10th Ave) with his wife and daughter. “I don’t understand why the government has us stuck.”  

“It’s an unnecessary expense, because if they approve our permits we will start to earn a living,” he said, referring to the city and state resources spent on supporting asylum seekers. So far he and his family like life in the shelter, where they say other people are generally friendly and share resources with each other, but he’s anxious to get working. 

Luis said he never expected he would be without work when he arrived in New York City. He and his family arrived from Denver, Colorado a month ago, and are still waiting to meet with a lawyer or paralegal to file their asylum claim. 

According to the Comptroller’s office, 64,000 asylum seekers were living under the City’s care as of last month, while more than 182,900 had passed through the City’s intake system. Many state and local politicians, including NYC Mayor Eric Adams, have called on the federal government to expedite work permits for asylum seekers, and eliminate the six month waiting period. The Biden administration did authorize Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Venezuelan nationals, which would give them a pathway to work, but it does not apply to those that arrived since the start of 2024. 

The experience of recently-arrived asylum seekers in New York City is close to home for Hell’s Kitchen resident Sabrina Reveron, who is Venezuelan and applied for asylum in the US in 2016. Eight years later, and she still hasn’t had her first court appearance. 

“Asylum seekers are coming in a very desperate situation and they’re just surviving,” Reveron said. “They’re doing the best they can, and sometimes we just need a little compassion and understanding.”

When migrants began arriving in New York City on buses from Texas in the summer of 2022 Reveron stepped up to help them, translating information from English to Spanish, gathering clothes and greeting buses as they arrived at Port Authority Bus Terminal. 

“I have a master’s degree, [and] speak perfect English,” Reveron said, “and I struggled at some points. If you don’t speak English it’s not easy.” 

Even after she obtained her work permit, Reveron has had to renew it every two years; she’s on her fifth permit now. 

Thousands of New Yorkers have volunteered their time to help provide clothes, food and access to social services to asylum seekers, including the organization Athletes Artists Activists which operates out of Hell’s Kitchen’s Metro Baptist Church. 

Outside the Watson Hotel the atmosphere is generally calm in the afternoons. Children run in circles, playing games, while their parents lean against the building’s scaffolding, passing the time. On weekdays, the sidewalk is filled with kids on their way home from school. They are greeted by people, many of them also recently-arrived migrants, enjoying a breath of fresh air. Some share with others traditional food from their home countries. Standing with a shopping cart between them are Charlys and his wife, Maria, who for the past month have been serving other migrants fresas con crema (strawberries with cream), a typical dessert in Venezuela that reminds them of home. To their left their two children, Santiago and Shanel, play together.

Like Luis, the couple has not yet been able to make an appointment with a lawyer to file their asylum application, but hope they will soon. They had been staying at the Watson until mid-April, when they were hit by the City’s shelter limit rule that requires migrant families to reapply for shelter every 60 days, and have since been at The Row, but they prefer spending time in front of The Watson, Charlys said, because it is a more peaceful area. 

A few blocks over in front of The Row (8th Ave bw W44/45th St), the high-paced rhythm of Manhattan takes center stage. Tourists and New Yorkers walk quickly by, as groups of migrants and asylum seekers gather outside to spend time with friends and families. Children run up and down the sidewalk, their parents often shouting at them not to wander too far off. 

For Maria Rada, the street in front of the hotel and the surrounding neighborhood are the only places she can socialize with her daughter, first cousin, and grandchildren. Since she doesn’t live in the hotel herself, she isn’t allowed to visit their rooms. 

Adapting to city life was a culture shock for Maria, who like Luis and Charlys is Venezuelan. “I spent two weeks in a depression, with my spirits in the ground,” she said. “I didn’t want to go outside, I was scared. And I couldn’t be with my [daughter and cousin] because we were each in a different shelter.” She was placed in a shelter in Staten Island, far away from the rest of her family in Hell’s Kitchen.

Since then she’s learned how to use Google Maps, has filed her asylum application and no longer lives in a shelter. 

“Here everything is [found] by map,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t know how to use it because in our hometowns there’s no need.” 

Maria’s daughter, Patricia, is planning to leave The Row as soon as she and her husband receive their work permits. Mail often takes a long time to arrive at the hotel, she said. She knows other people that have missed their immigration court hearings because they didn’t receive notice in time — especially if they are moved from one shelter to another and the mail is sent to their old address. 

Life in the hotel is difficult for Patricia’s children, who are toddlers. “I think it’s stressful for them to be inside for so long,” she said. “[People in our culture] like to socialize a lot, and we like to spend time outside.” At the same time, she added, “they treat us well. The social workers that come [to the shelter] take care with the children.” 

Residents at The Row extend one another a helping hand, said Patricia. It’s a transient community, she added; most people leave once the economic means to afford an apartment. Still, they help one another out by sharing useful information and contacts via WhatsApp. And, “if I have clothes I’m not using I put them in a bag and when I hear there’s a new family arriving I give it to them,” Patricia added. 

For now, all the families remain in limbo, waiting to start work and move out of Hell’s Kitchen’s shelters. 

“I have to wait,” Luis said. “I have family here, and family in Venezuela, that I need to support.”