By Arian Campo-Flores
Vagner De Souza Ribeiro was detained by immigration authorities in Jacksonville, Fla., last year and later deported to Brazil.
In his absence, De Souza Ribeiro's brick-paving company collapsed. His American wife, Amanda Souza Ribeiro, filed for bankruptcy, food stamps and Medicaid. She and their four American-born children gave up their house and crammed into a relative's place.
"Losing him shattered the very foundation of our home," said Amanda, 43 years old. "He was our rock."
Nearly four million households in the U.S. include a mix of legal statuses, with at least one resident living in the U.S. unlawfully and at least one other here lawfully, such as a U.S. citizen, according to a 2024 report by the Center for Migration Studies, an immigrant-rights organization that analyzed U.S. Census Bureau data. Some 726,000 immigrants who lack permanent legal status are married to U.S. citizens, the report found.
Median household income for mixed-status families drops 48% with the removal of members living in the U.S. unlawfully, according to the report.
President Trump recently ordered advisers to craft a new approach to his deportation effort, placing the focus more on arrests of criminals than on high-profile sweeps. To date, his administration's mass-deportation campaign, targeted at removing immigrants who entered or remained in the U.S. illegally, has ensnared American spouses and children, pushing some families into financial ruin.
A December survey of mixed-status families by American Families United, which advocates for allowing immigrants in such families to stay, found that noncitizen spouses often are breadwinners and caregivers, and work in crucial sectors of the economy, with 42% in construction and trades, 12% in hospitality and 10% in landscaping and agriculture -- making their removal deeply disruptive.
"The economic hit is really enormous and extends far beyond just the individual," said Austin Kocher, a research professor at Syracuse University and author of the study.
Vagner crossed the U.S.-Mexico border illegally in 2004 when he was 18 years old and was caught by border authorities and released with a court date. He said he never showed up for the appointment out of fear he would be deported -- a decision he said he regrets to this day.
He eventually settled in Jacksonville, where he met Amanda. The couple married in 2014 and had three children together, and he adopted one of her children from a previous marriage. They also adopted or took legal custody of four more children born to her sisters, who battled drug addiction and couldn't care for them.
The income from the brick-paving business provided enough to raise all the children and take periodic vacations to Disney and Universal, Vagner said. He was in the final stage of adjusting his legal status, he said, when he was detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement last April, while the couple was driving four of their children to school.
Since he was deported in June, the family has struggled. Amanda said she is picking up whatever work she can, including hospital administrative duties and bookkeeping gigs. Vagner is living in the state of Santa Catarina in Brazil and doing bricklaying jobs that provide barely enough to get by. He feels lost in his native country after so many years in the U.S.
"I want to live with my family," said Vagner, 39, who is trying to find a way to return legally. "My whole life was in America."
U.S. Rep. María Elvira Salazar, a Miami Republican, lamented the separation of mixed-status families at a news conference last month to promote a bill she is sponsoring, dubbed the Dignity Act. Among other things, it would create a legal pathway for immigrant spouses of U.S. citizens to regularize their status.
"It restores order and legality to our immigration system and ends the cycle of uncertainty that keeps families apart," she said.
Andrew Arthur, a fellow at the Center for Immigration Studies, which advocates for lowering immigration levels, said the bill is essentially an amnesty that will encourage additional waves of migrants seeking to enter the U.S. illegally. He said there are existing mechanisms for people living in the U.S. unlawfully to remain with their U.S. citizen spouses and gain residency, such as meeting certain conditions under a provision of the Immigration and Nationality Act.
"We are applying the law as written," said a Department of Homeland Security spokesperson, in an email. "If an immigration judge finds an illegal alien has no right to be in this country, we are going to remove them. Period."
Alberto Vazquez left his home in the state of Chiapas in Mexico when he was 16 and crossed the border illegally in 2008. He settled in Georgia, where he worked on a dairy farm and met a U.S.-born woman he married in 2019: Maria Vazquez. They eventually moved to Lebanon, Tenn., and -- after he spent several years learning to do remodeling work -- the couple founded their own company that went on to employ at times as many as eight people.
Alberto financially supported and helped care for Maria's three grandchildren -- ages 18, 16 and 11 -- who lived with them after her son from a previous marriage divorced. Alberto also helped look after her father until he died, and her mother, who is 87 and lives with them as well.
"He has been the backbone of our family," said Maria, 56.
In December, Alberto had just picked up supplies at a Lowe's when police stopped him and then arrested him for driving without a license, he said. After taking him to jail, police placed an ICE detainer on him. Faced with the prospect of a lengthy detention, Alberto said, he agreed to a voluntary departure from the U.S. and arrived at his parents' home in a rural area of Chiapas in February.
Since his removal, Maria said she is straining to make monthly payments for their truck and the mortgage on the home they had purchased just before he was detained. She missed several payments for the electricity bill, prompting the power to be shut off repeatedly.
The remodeling company continues to operate, but pulls in much less revenue without Alberto to drum up business and supervise jobs. Back in Chiapas, where he said he can't find work, he is helping his parents cultivate their land, while also conferring with Maria on how they might reunite.
"If I can't return, it could be that we lose all the things that we have there with Maria," said Alberto, 32.
Supporters have rallied behind some immigrants who were deeply embedded in their communities before being detained. That was the case for Carlos Della Valle, who is from the state of Guerrero in Mexico and crossed the border illegally in 1997 when he was 20. He was caught quickly, given an order of removal and released at the border -- only to turn around and head back to the interior of the U.S., said his wife, Angela Della Valle.
Carlos settled in Chester County in Pennsylvania, where he met Angela. The couple married in 2002 and had a son, who is now 20 and attending college. Carlos worked for 25 years at a small adhesive company, where he became plant manager.
In 2024, when the family was returning from winter break in St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands, Carlos was detained at the airport by Customs and Border Protection, which spotted his old removal order from 1997. He was released on bond and returned to Pennsylvania.
In August 2025, Carlos returned to St. Thomas for a federal trial on a charge of illegal re-entry and was found not guilty. But because he still lacked legal status, he had to turn himself in to ICE and has been in detention ever since, moved among 11 facilities including his current one in Louisiana.
Angela, 49, has been on extended medical leave from her job as a middle-school teacher so she can stay in Louisiana and regularly visit Carlos, 49. The only reason they have been able to keep their house and pay for lawyers' fees, their son's education and her travel is robust fundraising by community members in Pennsylvania and other backers.
A GoFundMe page for them has raised more than $98,000, and additional donations total at least $10,000, Angela said. A community fundraiser in February drew some 500 people.
Such support has encouraged the family to keep fighting to prevent Carlos's deportation. But, Carlos said by phone from the detention center, "I have my moments where I don't know how much longer I can last."
Write to Arian Campo-Flores at arian.campo-flores@wsj.com
(END) Dow Jones Newswires
March 23, 2026 05:00 ET (09:00 GMT)
Copyright (c) 2026 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.
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