By Redaccion
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East Colfax Avenue was supposed to be the place to find a job. That’s what everyone told Sofia Roca.
Despite the open drug use, the sex workers, and other migrant women walking the streets hoping to find work at the same Mexican restaurants and bakeries, East Colfax in Aurora, Colorado, seemed promising. There, bosses and customers would speak Spanish, and someone like Roca — a 49-year-old immigrant from Colombia without legal work authorization — might have a chance.
Roca returned to Colfax each morning, though it led nowhere. “Do you know how to cook Mexican food?” asked a woman when Roca inquired about a job. The accent in Roca’s Spanish revealed she wasn’t Mexican. “I can learn,” she replied, but the answer came swiftly: “We’re not hiring.”
With record numbers of South Americans attempting to cross the U.S. southern border in search of better opportunities, many end up in communities unprepared for their arrival — and sometimes openly hostile. The reality of life in the United States has proven vastly different from the hopes of many, including Roca.
A Strain on Communities
Women are leaving Colombia, and even more so Venezuela, fleeing starvation, violence, and a lack of opportunities. They are part of the more than 42,000 migrants who have arrived in the Denver area over the past two years. Many, like Roca, didn’t know anyone there, but Denver was the closest city to which Texas offered free bus rides, both to relieve pressure on Texas communities and to make a political point to liberal-leaning cities.
From Denver, many found their way to the neighboring suburb of Aurora, drawn by cheaper rents and the presence of Spanish speakers. However, the challenges of finding a job and affordable housing have been steep, particularly for women.
Nearly 900,000 women and girls tried to cross the U.S. southern border last year, more than five times the number a decade ago, according to U.S. Customs and Border Protection data. Roca, like many of them, came to the United States to help her family — in her case, her adult daughter, who has lupus and cannot afford effective medication in Colombia.
Roca heard that she could earn $1,000 a week in the United States, which she said would be a significant amount in Colombia. She set out with an uncle, who was detained in Mexico. Roca, however, made it across the border in Juárez and sought asylum. In El Paso, she heard about Denver’s free housing for migrants, and Texas paid her way.
Texas Gov. Greg Abbott has sent at least 119,000 migrants to cities run by Democratic mayors, including Denver, New York, Chicago, and Washington, D.C., according to a press release from the governor’s office. Roca arrived in Denver in November and stayed for two weeks at a city-funded hotel-turned-shelter. She then tried her luck seeking work in front of Home Depot and along East Colfax, where she found a cold reception. “They said horrible things about Venezuelans,” she recalled.
Challenges for New Migrants
Roca didn’t realize that resentment was growing among Aurora’s large Mexican community toward recent migrants. Many Mexicans have lived in the United States for years without legal status, and the benefits given to some new migrants, including a temporary work visa, have caused frustration. President Joe Biden’s administration created and expanded legal pathways for migrants, including work permits, but these opportunities have not reached everyone.
Roca was ineligible for a work permit, but Mexican residents still associated her with those migrants who received them. She also faced hostility from Aurora’s city officials. Earlier this year, they warned other communities not to send migrants to Aurora, saying they wouldn’t use city funds to help them. Even though local police said gangs hadn’t taken over the building, Aurora’s mayor repeated a landlord’s claim that a notorious Venezuelan gang had taken over an apartment building, a claim that was later echoed by former President Donald Trump during his campaign rallies.
“I’m Not Going Anywhere With Anyone”
Roca had never planned to settle in Aurora. The lines between Denver and Aurora were blurred to her. So, when her time at the shelter ended, she headed back to East Colfax in Aurora, looking for work. She walked the sidewalks, dodging drug users and approaching migrants begging outside stores, asking if they knew of work or housing.
One day, a man she called “El Cubano” offered her help, suggesting she come to Kentucky with him and his family. For over a week, she stayed with them, but then learned that El Cubano’s wife worked in “el negocio” — the business of sex work. The wife even tried to set Roca up with a man who offered $1,000 for two nights with her. Roca refused. “I’m not going anywhere with anyone,” she told them.
Roca feared violence, as she and her cousin had no money or means of leaving. But days later, they were able to leave with the help of a Venezuelan woman they met outside Home Depot. They returned to Aurora and East Colfax.
Returning to East Colfax
Roca found a place to stay in the living room of a woman she’d met begging outside Walmart, sharing an air mattress with the woman’s teenage son. She worked weekends at a flea market, hauling sacks of clothing for $10 an hour. Though she found the wage exploitative, it was work. When she tried to find labor outside Home Depot, she faced sexual propositions and sometimes wasn’t paid for legitimate work.
Most days, men on Colfax solicited her for sex, offering hundreds of dollars. When she found a bar looking for workers, she realized it was a cantina where women are paid to drink with men — often a path into sex trafficking or drug trade. “I don’t think I have to do that yet,” Roca said. “But this street — it only offers prostitution.”
A New Start
With few options left for legal residence or work, Roca got in touch with a high school friend living in the northeastern United States, who offered her a job and a place to stay. Tired of the chaos of Aurora, Roca decided to take the opportunity.
Two days later, with $80 in her pocket, she boarded a Greyhound bus and reunited with her friend. The friend kept her promises, giving Roca a place to live and helping her find a job cleaning hotel rooms. Life in her new city is vastly different — less chaotic, with no one disrespecting her. “It’s been a great refuge,” Roca says, and while she’s unsure how long she’ll stay, she knows one thing for sure: she will never return to Aurora, Colorado.
