A Fund for Undocumented Workers is Going to Run Dry. What Happens Then?
Ana Ramirez and Javier Gloria are friends who used to work at some of the same restaurants in New York City before the pandemic. Ramirez was a barista, Gloria a cook. They’re both undocumented workers. And they both applied last month for grants of more than $15,000 from the state’s new Excluded Workers Fund.
Ramirez, 40, was approved for a grant within four weeks, with just one easily fulfilled request for verification. She is already planning to spend her windfall on new sneakers for the New York Marathon, and a night out at a Thai restaurant.
It took Javier Gloria, 50, almost twice as long to get his approval, which he received Sept. 24. He says he had to answer at least 17 text messages and calls from the state Department of Labor — most recently, a request to provide proof of residency, which he answered with a Home Depot receipt from March 2020.
And some immigrants are still waiting. Alfredo Gloria, 52, Javier Gloria’s brother, was a barista before the pandemic. He applied when the program opened on Aug. 1. He says that the state contacted him about 15 times, asking for the same documents, such as a New York ID or a proof of his residency via a lease and other papers, but he has yet to hear back.
Alfredo Gloria is disillusioned, but he’s also worried. As of Sept. 25, the state had approved 90,400 of the 256,000 applications that had been submitted, and it has allocated more than $1.4 billion of the $2.1 billion that’s available. Once the funds run out, it’s not clear what, if any, additional money will be available.
Thousands of New Yorkers are in the same situation — immigrants who’ve either managed to navigate the system to get a five-figure payment, or those who are stymied by the paperwork and worry the program will run dry before they can benefit.
“The money is the only hope I had to [deal with] my precarious situation,” said Alfredo Gloria. He came to the U.S. from Mexico 20 years ago and has worked at various restaurants, paying taxes and losing his job during the pandemic. He said he suffers from multiple sclerosis. Now it’s difficult for him to walk.
The Excluded Workers Fund was established last April after a series of protests, including a 23-day-hunger strike, by workers who had been left out of federal and state pandemic aid. It’s a one-time payment for people affected by pandemic-related losses, and was included in the state’s $212 billion budget deal. It overcame opposition particularly from the state’s Republican Party, which called it an “outlandish development” and said the money would be better spent for veterans, senior citizens and teachers.
The state began taking applications early last month, and now applications are soaring. The state was receiving an average of around 3,000 applications a day last month, but that rose to more than 20,000 on Sept. 21.
“This is turning out to be one of the most successful programs in the sense of the number of applicants and how quick they’re approving people and getting the money out,” said Zachary Lerner, an organizing director from New York Communities for Change. But, he thinks Gov. Kathy Hochul should make “sure that we put more money into this to provide that relief for all the excluded workers who have been devastated by this pandemic.”
Ron Kim, an assemblyman from Flushing, told Labor New York that the funding should be extended for two to three years. He describes it as “investment, not as charity” because excluded workers’ “return on investment is tremendous.”
Earlier this month, the Funded Excluded Workers group, a coalition of advocacy groups, held clinics in the Bronx and Brooklyn to help immigrants learn about the fund and apply. More than 500 people came. “We’re trying to put out as many applications as we can,” said Daniela Paez, a navigator from Make the Road New York, a social advocacy group that’s been involved in the campaign.
Applicants must submit a lot of evidence to prove their eligibility. Official documents, like a driver’s license or state-issued ID, are especially valuable, but people can also submit foreign-issued passports, marriage certificates, utility bills or leases. Those who turn in plenty of documents can qualify for a grant of $15,600, while people with less proof of residency or employment can get grants of $3,200.
Once the application starts, the state allows just seven days to correct or submit additional documents. “It’s a very short time that we have to be able to fix any error,” Paez said. If the applicant doesn’t respond in time, the state can close the application — “and there’s no way to reopen it or restart it.”
Immigrants who are self-employed, or whose bosses pay them in cash, can run into significant problems. Those who don’t have pay stubs need a letter from their employers, and that’s something some bosses won’t do. Leonor Lopez Jimenez, a 59-year-old house cleaner, said her employer, where she has worked for seven years, still hasn’t provided a letter, though she has asked at least 10 times. “If employers don’t want to give them a letter, if they haven’t filed their taxes, it would be tough for them to apply because they cannot prove their work history,” said Bianca Guerrero, a campaign coordinator at Make the Road New York.
A Department of Labor spokesperson said in an email that the state has “proactively instituted policies to address the current realities facing low-wage, immigrant workers…. We will continue to work collaboratively to identify solutions to expedite the application process.”
Some immigrants are reluctant to apply. Anna Chen, an outreach coordinator at the Chinese-American Planning Council, one of the nation’s largest Asian-American social-services organizations, said many members don’t want to apply because they think it could cause problems for their employers, some of whom could be breaking the law by paying workers in cash. Said Paez: “We’re constantly telling them, all the information you give us is just for the application, the DOL is not allowed to … send it out to anyone else.”
And, said Guerrero, “There’s just not a lot of awareness about the fund.” Partner organizations in other parts of the state told Guerrero that they have to travel hours to farms just to introduce this fund to agricultural workers. “It could take weeks and weeks of outreach … to even get someone to the point of applying. And we don’t have weeks and weeks of time, because of how fast the money is going out,” Guerrero added.
When Labor New York reached out to 25 workers in Flushing and Manhattan’s Chinatown, only one delivery worker in Flushing had heard about it.
Language is another barrier. The Department of Labor provides 13 options on its website. But when officials contact applicants for additional information, the language they use doesn’t always match what the applicants chose. Estee Ward, an attorney at Make the Road New York, said she has Spanish-speaking clients who received notifications in English. “The system has been sporadic in whether they respond to people’s language preferences.”
Sometimes, even those who speak English may find it difficult to communicate with the state because they’re dealing with an automated voice system. Bianca said that some community members could not schedule a callback because the system didn’t recognize their language. And, many applicants lack computer skills or access. “Some of them even don’t have an email address,” Chen said.
The complex application process has also provided opportunities for private agencies to cash in. Anthony Zheng, an air-conditioning technician in Flushing, said he has seen businesses charging a fee of up to $700 to help with an application — up from $100 in August. “It’s all over Flushing.”
For Ramirez, the restaurant worker who was quickly approved for funding, the cash has been a godsend. She was unemployed for a year after the pandemic broke, and contracted COVID-19 last January, forcing her to be bedridden for 20 days. “I was so fragile that I didn’t even know if I was gonna die.” She used up her savings to pay for rent, food and phone. She is now working again, but just part time.
Ever since she moved to the U.S. in 2005, she’s been stuck in New York because she can’t take time off, making her feel “like I’m in jail. … But this money is making me feel a little better as we are recognized as essential.”
The grant is “bittersweet,” though, since her friend Alfredo Gloria, and others she knows, still haven’t gotten funding. About 15 people out of the 40 people in her social circle haven’t received the funds.
As for Alfredo Gloria, he has a bit of work now, helping a friend paint an apartment. He’s still hoping he’ll get approved.
“His case is so complicated,” says Ramirez. And she makes a vow: “If the Department of Labor won’t approve his application, we will raise funds for him, dollar by dollar.”
