Most migrants who come to Denver don't have permission to work, pushing them to wash car windows at busy interections, sell roses or oranges across the city, or stand outside Home Depot waiting for off-the-books day labor.
"When we didn't have work, we would always go out into the street looking for work," says Jose Suarez, a Venezuelan migrant who has been in the United States for five months. "We stood at the Home Depot, where they always looked for people to work."
Suarez, his wife and a dozen other migrants in Denver have found a different route to legitimate earnings, though. They've all set up a limited liability company, or LLC, in which business assets are considered separate from the person. Setting it up didn't require a social security number of a work permit from Suarez and his wife, allowing each them to get jobs as a ranch hand and a cleaning woman
Venezuelan migrants who came to the U.S. before August are eligible for Temporary Protected Status, a federal work authorization meant to protect people fleeing humanitarian crises in their countries. Migrants who crossed the border by scheduling an appointment on the Customs Border and Protection (CBP) One app and entered the U.S. on parole are immediately eligible for work authorization, too.
Work authorization is also available to migrants who wait four to six months after applying for asylum, a legal status that allows people to live and work in the U.S. Earning asylum status can provide a work permit, also, but that can take more than a year to complete.
There are few realistic paths open to migrants who want to work legally in the U.S., however. They might not have the technological or legal know-how to go through processes like applying for asylum or parole via CBP One, and most migrants need work authorization immediately and don't want to wait months to start applying for a job.
"At the Home Depot close to my house, about thirty or 25 people always wait there looking for work all day, and there are times when they don't get anything," Suarez says. "It's very tough, very tough to keep fighting while you're waiting for permission to work."
Suarez's wait was cut short after his wife met Andrea Ryall, the founder of Highlands Moms & Neighbors, an offshoot of the Highland Mommies. She introduced them to the idea of starting an LLC and advised through the process, Suarez says. According to Ryall, she and other Highlands Moms members have been able to help about a dozen migrants get jobs this way.
"Any employer, any legally owned business can contract the services of another legally owned business," Ryall says. "It's a legally owned business, registered with the state with an [Employer Identification Number] from the U.S. government."
Ryall's group has helped Venezuelan migrants work and earn money by handing them snow shovels and setting up pop-up barbershops, as well. The group also organizes donation drives for them.
Of the more than 40,000 migrants who have arrived in Denver since December 2022, about half of them have left for onward travel to another city. Most of the remaining 20,000 migrants or so who stay here don't have work permits, according to Denver city officials.
Work permits have been a roadblock that even city leaders can't get around. Mayor Mike Johnston has been advocating for federal funding and work authorization for migrants since November, even traveling to Washington D.C. His newcomer director, Sarah Plastino, is hoping for another round of Temporary Protected Status to give more migrants a chance to work.
"Most of the migrants that I know don't have a clear pathway to federal work authorizations," Ryall says, leaving an LLC as "the one and only work around" for not having work authorization.
It's only been used on a small scale so far, but Ryall calls it "a totally valid way to work" and "something that can happen in our city en masse."
It's only been used on a small scale so far, but Ryall calls it "a totally valid way to work" and "something that can happen in our city en masse."
The idea was suggested on the Highland Moms & Neighbors Facebook page. The group had been looking for ways to get migrants work for months, and setting up an LLC came up.
Migrants have already been able to get jobs in restaurants and as ranch hands by setting up their own LLCs. One group of women were able to start selling goods on Etsy with their LLC, while five migrant men were able to get jobs in Florida, each with their own LLC and the help of a Highland Mom member.
"There is work being done this way," Ryall says. "It is a way in which we can really combat some employment failures at a federal level here."
"She helped so much, making it so my wife and I can work as a business cleaning houses and other stuff," Suarez says of Ryall.
The Highland Mommies were ready to set up a couple dozen more migrants as contractors for ranching and farming jobs in Haviland, Kansas, through an arrangement for migrants staying at the Denver Friends Church. That deal fell through at the last minute, however.
Migrants who get work this way have to pay taxes and withhold their own taxes to pay them quarterly. Suarez says that Ryall explained the tax process to him, but his gig as a ranch hand showed him another problem: he was paid with a check but didn't have a bank account.
Opening bank accounts for migrants has been the biggest roadblock for making the LLC idea work, Ryall says, as they usually don't have U.S. government-issued IDs or social security numbers.
"Even migrants who have LLCs, who have secretary of state paperwork, who have an EIN from the IRS, who have border paperwork with their picture on it, who have their Venezuelan ID, still cannot open a bank account," Ryall says. "Or get a Colorado ID, for that matter."
Suarez and his wife cashed their paycheck at a Mexican corner store, he says. Other workarounds include a Bambu card, which is a prepaid gift card that can receive direct deposits, or starting an account with Majority, a mobile banking app made for migrants that accepts Venezuelan IDs.
Hiring migrants as contractors favors employers, Ryall adds, because it means they don't have to provide benefits or retirement savings. "It's actually a hell of a lot easier for the employer," she explains.
Suarez, who now works as a welder, has since been able to open a bank account and now makes about $400 a week. He and his wife are renting a room in a house.
Although Suarez says the pay "is very bad," he no longer has to wait at Home Depot, and has "been working consistently for about a month now."
Figuring the LLC process came with "a bit of a learning curve" for everyone involved, Ryall says. The migrants have to learn "this is a business you own. This is what an expense is. You're going to have separate bank accounts. You're going to have to file quarterly taxes," which is tough, she says.
"We're explaining this to a population of people from a place where there's no such thing as an LLC," Ryall says. "So it's a pain in some way for the migrants — but it's also a pathway to stability, to work, to a dream that they hoped America would be for them, which is simply just to be able to work and care for themselves."
"There is work being done this way," Ryall says. "It is a way in which we can really combat some employment failures at a federal level here."
"She helped so much, making it so my wife and I can work as a business cleaning houses and other stuff," Suarez says of Ryall.
The Highland Mommies were ready to set up a couple dozen more migrants as contractors for ranching and farming jobs in Haviland, Kansas, through an arrangement for migrants staying at the Denver Friends Church. That deal fell through at the last minute, however.
Migrants who get work this way have to pay taxes and withhold their own taxes to pay them quarterly. Suarez says that Ryall explained the tax process to him, but his gig as a ranch hand showed him another problem: he was paid with a check but didn't have a bank account.
Opening bank accounts for migrants has been the biggest roadblock for making the LLC idea work, Ryall says, as they usually don't have U.S. government-issued IDs or social security numbers.
"Even migrants who have LLCs, who have secretary of state paperwork, who have an EIN from the IRS, who have border paperwork with their picture on it, who have their Venezuelan ID, still cannot open a bank account," Ryall says. "Or get a Colorado ID, for that matter."
Suarez and his wife cashed their paycheck at a Mexican corner store, he says. Other workarounds include a Bambu card, which is a prepaid gift card that can receive direct deposits, or starting an account with Majority, a mobile banking app made for migrants that accepts Venezuelan IDs.
Hiring migrants as contractors favors employers, Ryall adds, because it means they don't have to provide benefits or retirement savings. "It's actually a hell of a lot easier for the employer," she explains.
Suarez, who now works as a welder, has since been able to open a bank account and now makes about $400 a week. He and his wife are renting a room in a house.
Although Suarez says the pay "is very bad," he no longer has to wait at Home Depot, and has "been working consistently for about a month now."
Figuring the LLC process came with "a bit of a learning curve" for everyone involved, Ryall says. The migrants have to learn "this is a business you own. This is what an expense is. You're going to have separate bank accounts. You're going to have to file quarterly taxes," which is tough, she says.
"We're explaining this to a population of people from a place where there's no such thing as an LLC," Ryall says. "So it's a pain in some way for the migrants — but it's also a pathway to stability, to work, to a dream that they hoped America would be for them, which is simply just to be able to work and care for themselves."
