The beginning of the journey lies at the main gate of The Row Hotel where a young girl, not more than a decade of years, descends from her school bus. Her mother eagerly awaits her arrival, stationed near Eighth Avenue – a sector of western downtown Manhattan. There seems to be an invisible split here; those with ties to the hotel, and those who are mere passersby. Serving as a fortress in the urban jungle, The Row Hotel, with its terracotta brick facade and towering 1,300 rooms, stands as a stronghold for its residents against the hustle and bustle of the city.
The city of New York has repurposed over 200 of these tourist spots, The Row being the pioneer amongst them, into shelters for those who seek refuge in the city. Yet, the residents live under the cloak of anonymity, shying away from any undue media attention in order to protect their fragile living circumstances. The city commissioned The Row with an initial deal, worth $40 million, to house these migrants who came from various places and via various means. Converting such hotels into shelters is not an uncommon occurrence now.
In the past year, the data showed a dominant presence of Latin American inhabitants in these shelters, specifically Venezuelans (35%), trailed by Ecuadorians (18%), and Colombians (9%). But, as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever. Now, after a span of almost three years, city officials are declaring the culmination of an era. Mayor Eric Adams voiced the unexpectedness of the moment when the system hit maximum capacity.
With the deficit of hotels and shelters, leaders have been urged to explore alternate accommodation plans such as utilizing cruise ships, churches, and even city-owned gymnasiums. Up until now, city records show an alarming 232,000 individuals housed under its shelter system. However, the city has come a long way from the days of the relentless flow of migrants. At present, the city caters to about 45,000 people, marking a sizeable decrease compared to just last month.
Among the future endeavors of the Adams administration is to shut down 53 shelters before June 2025 comes to a close. Unbeknownst to The Row’s residents, this news has sparked conversations several blocks north at another establishment, The Watson. The previous year, The Watson bustled with activity both from its residents and job seekers around the neighborhood. The atmosphere now, however, is much more serene.
A young woman named Luz Marina arrived, carting behind her a large suitcase filled with remnants of her past life in her old room. She had called this place home for six months, along with her husband and two children, after their arrival from Venezuela. Her youngest child bore the disappointment of the sudden departure from the hotel on February 24. She voiced her concerns about the struggles she faced, especially in terms of her children’s schooling, after being relocated to a shelter in Queens.
Luz Marina, a former recipient of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) bestowed in 2023 due to her Venezuelan origin, is now amidst the 300,000 others who witnessed the termination of their protection under the Trump administration. Despite her circumstances, the freedom to cook in her new shelter brings her a degree of comfort. She yearns for job opportunities and rightful documents to improve her living conditions.
Venturing off to Tenth Avenue from The Watson leads to The Skyline Hotel, now a shadow of its former self. Sparse tenant sightings and a deliveryman with a pizza dispel the thought of complete abandonment. The Skyline’s grey walls and the austere aesthetics look humbler compared to The Row or The Watson, but it shares the same history of being a refuge during the city’s migrant crisis.
A few blocks beyond The Skyline Hotel lies the Hotel Merit. It’s a notion bearing uncomforting thoughts for would-be tourists – to sleep in rooms that once housed fresh-off-the-boat families. Yet, this is the grim reality for Paola, Gilbert, and their two young children, who will soon welcome another addition to their family that Paola gave birth to prematurely at Bellevue Hospital.
Paola and Gilbert embarked on their journey to New York with great expectations but now find themselves suffering from the piercing cold and absence of employment opportunities. Recently, the couple discovered plans of the Roosevelt Hotel’s impending closure in June, a detail kept from their knowledge. They’re not particularly fond of the place but are grateful nonetheless for the security it provides.
They’ve noted fewer visitors and that their mail is no longer delivered to the Roosevelt. Despite an apparent decrease in activity, Liz Garcia, a representative for City Hall, insists that around 2,852 individuals still reside in the hotel. But their time is limited, with the hotel due to shut its doors along with other shelters scattered across the city in the upcoming months.
News of these closures drew heavily criticized responses from the Legal Aid Society and the Coalition for the Homeless. Their concerns lie with the city’s ability to fulfill its moral and legal duties amid the rising homeless population. They highlighted the obligation to ensure every individual is provided with secure and proper shelter.
In a surprising revelation, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) decided to halt allocation of over $80 million, meant for housing and other services for immigrants in New York. The decision came following Musk’s assertion of the conversion of upscale hotels into shelters being an ‘illegal’ move. Despite closures of many shelters, specifically those in Manhattan, the city still hosts approximately 45,000 migrants or asylum seekers today.
While the Adams administration considers the move a triumph, saving around $5.2 billion, the end of the crisis that began in 2022 looms on the horizon. The need of the hour is to work relentlessly to ensure every individual in need gains access to the essentials – a safe shelter being the most primary.