Written by Nohemi Colin, Southern Border Aslyee Project Manager
I began working at World Relief overseeing the Southern Border Arrival Program. We worked in shelters and police stations across the city, providing case management services to asylum-seeking individuals and families experiencing homelessness. Our role was to assess their immediate needs and help them adjust to life in Chicago.
We worked in places that had been repurposed to provide temporary shelter. The air in each space was thick with noise—the constant hum of movement and the sound of different dialects of Spanish and other languages. One shelter was a repurposed school where classrooms had been converted into rooms lined with rows of cots. Another was a former hotel now filled with families who had crossed the border carrying everything they owned in backpacks or suitcases. We also helped people at a local police station, where buses from Texas dropped off asylum-seeking families with no idea what came next and expecting we would have all the answers.
The truth was, we didn’t always have all the answers or know every available resource. But we quickly realized that our presence mattered just as much. By meeting people one-on-one, listening to their stories, and offering a warm welcome, we earned their trust. They knew we’d do our best to find solutions, make appointments, or direct them to the right resources for additional support. At World Relief, we understand that the act of offering hope isn’t just about providing resources. It’s about embodying a faith-driven commitment to showing Christ’s love to the vulnerable and walking alongside them on their path to resettlement.
I’ll never forget a caseworker describing our role as “holding a lantern to guide those who were lost, scared, and in the dark.” Many on my team, including myself, have lived experiences as first- or second-generation immigrants. In our work, it often felt as though we were extending the same welcome we’d offer to family—or to our younger selves. Building a team that truly understood the importance of connection and hospitality made leading this work deeply fulfilling, giving me hope and joy every day.
I remember one single mother at the shelter who had fallen into depression, overwhelmed by the pressure of caring for her children in a place that felt so uncertain. She trusted one of our caseworkers enough to share a deeply personal experience—something she had been too ashamed or afraid to speak about with others. Our caseworker created a safe space where she could be seen without judgment. After their conversation, we noticed a flicker of hope returning to her eyes. She realized she wouldn’t walk this journey alone. It reminded me again of my colleague’s words about being a lantern—helping people feel seen and guided in the darkness. That moment reminded me that resilience doesn’t mean walking alone. It means finding a community that walks with you, offering the kind of hope that pushes you forward even when you’re unsure of the next step.
As time went on, our team began building connections with other organizations, churches, and volunteer groups supporting asylum-seekers across the city. I was continually inspired by the everyday heroes who stepped up without hesitation—those who didn’t wait to be asked, who saw a person in need and immediately took action, mobilizing others who shared their commitment to make a difference and welcome a newcomer. In those moments, I felt a deep sense of hope not only for those we were serving, but for the resilience of the human spirit. It reminded me that when people come together, even in times of uncertainty, compassion can light the way forward.
At the start of this year, we shifted our focus to supporting families seeking asylum in the U.S., particularly in helping them transition out of temporary housing to create space for others in need. Building on the foundation of our original HOME Program, we expanded our services to address the broader needs of asylum-seekers facing housing crises and developed The Asylum Project. This now includes comprehensive case management, legal assistance, employment support, and pathways to permanent housing. Through this support, we help families afford immigration attorneys, legal fees, and other essential expenses. Some of the families first selected were clients we had met at the shelters and police stations. To now support them on their journey toward independence has been a powerful reminder of the hope that fuels our work. We hold hope that with the right resources and guidance, these families can build stable futures, creating opportunities for themselves and for generations to come.
As of October, one family has been granted asylum, and we remain hopeful that the rest will receive the same outcome. Our team has worked tirelessly to help families secure housing and employment, advocating for our clients and challenging harmful stereotypes along the way. Throughout this year, it has often felt as though every week brings new challenges, as we witness firsthand the fear, uncertainty, and anxiety our clients experience due to changes in immigration policy under the current administration. For families with pending asylum cases, the journey of navigating legal processes while trying to resettle in a new country is anything but easy. During this time, they must attend interviews, hearings, and provide requested information to immigration authorities—often reopening deep wounds and retraumatizing them with memories of harm or mistreatment they endured because of their race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or social group membership. Today, the visible presence of ICE in Chicago only deepens that fear, reminding many of the danger they fled and the threat they still feel. And yet, despite these ongoing struggles, we hold on to hope that each step forward is a step toward healing, justice, and a safer future.
This is the hope we have. And it’s not ours to hold alone.
You can be part of this story, too. Whether through volunteering to deliver groceries to families too afraid to be in public, attending a court hearing to emotionally support immigrants, supporting our work through donations, or simply extending kindness and care to a newcomer in your community—your welcome matters. Together, we can be the light that leads others through the dark. I believe hope isn’t just something we speak; it’s something we live out. Through this work, I keep returning to the phrase, “It takes a village.” And every day, I see that village come to life: in people who pray for the vulnerable, who protest injustice, and who show up with compassion and open arms in moments of uncertainty. It truly takes a village to build a network of support and to bring peace to families who have lived too long in fear and have sacrificed everything to seek refuge in the United States.