In 1980, Cuban authorities arrested Fidel Armando Toboso-Alfonso without accusation, incited his colleagues to publicly disgrace him, and threatened him with a four-year prison sentence unless he departed the nation. His alleged offense was being gay. Having previously endured 60 days in a labor camp, Toboso-Alfonso opted for exile. Upon his arrival in the United States, an immigration judge delivered a landmark decision, granting Toboso-Alfonso asylum. This ruling subsequently provided hope for numerous others.
The U.S. was previously viewed as a haven where LGBTQ individuals could seek asylum. Currently, however, this perception is diminishing due to a more stringent immigration framework influenced by judges appointed during the Trump administration.
Last June, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services issued a reminder to officers that for marriages to qualify for immigration benefits, they must be legally recognized in the place where the ceremony occurred. This presents an insurmountable hurdle for queer couples from nations that either outlaw or do not acknowledge same-sex marriage. Such individuals are required to produce a marriage certificate, an act for which they could face imprisonment or death in their native land if they tried to acquire one.
This instance represents merely a segment of the Trump Administration’s extensive reversal of safeguards for immigrants and LGBTQ individuals.
During the presidencies of Barack Obama and Joe Biden, the United States resettled many refugees, including LGBTQ individuals escaping persecution, arrest, torture, or death. Currently, that figure has been drastically reduced to a mere fraction of its previous level, with a disproportionate number of beneficiaries being white applicants from South Africa.
Furthermore, the Trump Administration directed federal agencies to remove gender markers from official documents. Given that the asylum application process mandates uniformity across all forms, nonbinary refugees are now confronted with an untenable dilemma: either misrepresent their identity on paper or face potential denial due to perceived “inconsistency.”
These administrative alterations concerning passports, marriage certificates, and federal documents have dire repercussions. By restricting the definition of who is considered married or whose gender is “valid” on official records, the White House has effectively prevented numerous queer individuals from accessing asylum protections. Bureaucratic processes have thus transformed into a new barrier, excluding the most vulnerable populations.
While the United States does not imprison or execute individuals for their LGBTQ identity, the government is compelling queer people to conceal their true selves in order to stay in the country—a more subdued, procedural type of oppression. A country cannot credibly claim to be a sanctuary if it requires those seeking safety to disavow their identity.
Last week, a federal court supported the Trump Administration’s stance requiring that individuals identify with their assigned sex at birth. This ruling stops lower-court attempts to prevent the policy, which means the State Department can now decline to process passports that reflect a person’s self-identified gender. While this alteration might appear minor, it indicates a broader trend: when coupled with other anti-LGBTQ initiatives, it jeopardizes not only the rights of citizens but also the security of queer immigrants and refugees.
Concurrently, certain legislators are attempting to overturn *Obergefell v. Hodges*, the 2015 Supreme Court ruling that established same-sex marriage as a constitutional right. Although the Court recently declined to hear one such challenge, the fact that it was even considered highlights the fragility of equality.
For queer asylum seekers already within the United States, the circumstances remain hazardous. Claims founded on sexual orientation or gender identity frequently face skepticism, with adjudicators requesting “proof” of identity—an unrealistic demand when being visible can itself be life-threatening. Rather than providing refuge, the system compels applicants to adhere to stereotypical notions of what being queer entails.
Furthermore, immigration judges are now empowered to dismiss asylum applications prematurely, thereby silencing narratives that could otherwise preserve lives. Bureaucracy, in this context, has once again been weaponized.
The subsequent generation must not only advocate for LGBTQ individuals but also restore the fundamental promise of this nation. A genuine sanctuary is characterized not by administrative documents or regulations, but by the conviction that everyone merits the right to live authentically and securely.
