A Cold New Home
Dani Rodriguez journeyed three months from his home in Medellin, Colombia, including six days in the Darien Gap, until he reached the U.S.-Mexico border last November. He recently made it to Denver, where he was met with slushy, melting snow as he set up his tent in the latest of various migrant encampments around the city.
It was Sunday, and some at the encampment hung out together, others went out looking for work, and volunteers came by with donated hot meals and clothing as the afternoon wore on. Gregory Guillen Diaz told me of his wife and two kids back home as he sorted through clothing donations. Earlier that winter, Jose Giovanis and Juan Carlos Pioltelli played dominoes in a heated tent at a different encampment, despite a deep freeze plunging temperatures below zero.
More than 40,000 migrants, mostly from Venezuela, have arrived in Denver over the last two years - more per capita than any other American city. Many of them have shuffled in and out of city shelters that have limited time and capacity, and have no ability to work legally, since they arrived too late to get Temporary Protected Status.
From schools suddenly learning how to teach thousands of new Spanish-speaking students dealing with the trauma of migration, to an undocumented family in a precarious situation, to volunteers coming together to help in any way they can, and Denver's new mayor navigating the crisis, I've spent time photographing the many issues facing migrants and how the city is faring
Photographed for The Wall Street Journal , The Colorado Sun and The Denver Post
Jose Giovanis, left, stays warm as Juan Carlos Pioltelli leaves the supplies tent at an encampment where they live with several other migrants, despite subzero temperatures, in Denver, Colo., on Monday, Jan. 15, 2024. Giovanis, Pioltelli, and about eight other migrants lived in the encampment with heated tents and other provisions through January’s deep freeze, despite being offered indoor places to stay like city shelters, hotel rooms, and volunteers' homes. They chose to stay in tents for a variety of reasons, like not wanting to lose their belongings or campsite, anxiety from sleeping mat-to-mat, wanting to remain independent, and more.
Pioltelli, playing dominoes with Giovanis, left, and another migrant encampment resident, laughs with with Denver Church of Christ members as they donate heating supplies on behalf of the church to help the encampment of about 10 migrants survive the subzero temperatures in Denver, Colo., on Monday, Jan. 15, 2024.
Amy Beck, part of Together Denver and a volunteer working to help newly arrived migrants, stands for a portrait at a migrant encampment of 10 people in Denver, Colo., on Monday, Jan. 15, 2024. Upset after seeing children in tents, Beck has been pivotal to coordinating donations and volunteers to help migrants survive January’s deep freeze.
Denver Mayor Mike Johnston poses for a portrait in his office at City Hall on Tuesday, Feb. 6, 2024.
A newly arrived Venezuelan student laughs as she learns how to say, “how are you?”, in class at Bryant-Webster Dual Language ECE-8 School in Denver, Colo., on Monday, Feb. 5, 2024. Many of the students are recently arrived migrants and Denver Public Schools has enrolled roughly 2,800 new students, mostly Spanish-speaking immigrant children.
Rafael Crinzone of Venezuela spends time with his two-year-old son, Lulian, as they eat lunch at the old Quality Inn in Denver, Colo., on Tuesday, Feb. 6, 2024. "I'm just a person who wants work," he said. "Things are complicated, but I am going to do whatever I can to stay." As February came to a close, so did he and his family's time at the city-run shelter. He wasn't not sure what they would do next.