Vietnamese immigrants face mental health struggles amid Trump’s wave of deportations

Living in uncertainty, many Vietnamese immigrants, both documented and undocumented, face significant mental health challenges that stem from the complex interplay of historical trauma and fears of deportation

Confusion. Fear. Disorientation. These invisible feelings intensify stress and undermine overall well-being, leaving deep scars on individuals like Lan Vũ, her son, Anh, and Anh-Tu — people who long for an ordinary life but are denied this privilege due to their immigration status.

Living in Fear

Among the 2.4 million Vietnamese immigrants in the United States, the Center for Migration Studies estimates that roughly 104,000 are undocumented. Vietnamese Americans have the highest naturalization rate among all immigrant groups.

Since President Trump took office on January 20, more than 8,200 people have been arrested by federal immigration authorities. His executive orders have created an environment of fear and anxiety for documented and undocumented immigrants, leading to significant negative impacts on mental health.

The Panamanian President Jose Raul Mulino said on February 13 that “the U.S had deported 119 people of many different nationalities to Panama. The first flight from the US, carrying people from Afghanistan, China, India, Iran, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Türkiye, Uzbekistan and Vietnam, more specifically, there were 9 Vietnamese people on this trip.”

Santa Ana resident Lan Vũ, who came to the U.S. with her son, Anh, on a tourist visa in 2007, describes her precariousness and her son’s mental health challenges ever since Donald Trump was elected president. "I don’t have papers, so I don’t have a Social Security number, which means I can’t get a stable job with a paycheck. I also can’t drive, so I am completely dependent on my son. Now, I am even more afraid for our future."

She said that her son faced constant oppression under the Communist regime in Vietnam. “He was a top student, but to get into a good school, the head of the school demanded money. Without it, they deliberately gave him low grades, making it impossible for him to qualify for a good school," Lan recalled.

She continued, "When we had the chance to interview for a U.S. visa, I brought him along. He was 11 at the time, and we were fortunate to be approved. After arriving here, a kind acquaintance helped enroll him in school. He was a brilliant student! After high school, he received scholarships from seven universities in the U.S.," she said proudly.

Lan was fortunate to find a job at a clothing store in Asian Garden Mall (Phước Lộc Thọ) in Westminster, Orange County. However, due to her undocumented status, she was exploited with low wages, denied tips, and treated unfairly.

Lan has been living in fear for many years due to her circumstances.

"In 2017, when Trump became president for the first time, the store owner became scared and let me go. For the past eight years, I’ve been barely surviving, relying on under-the-table cash jobs because no employer would officially hire me," she said.

President Trump’s return to the White House for a second term has instilled fresh fears in the immigrant community.

Lan’s son has struggled with stress and anxiety over the years. He graduated from UCLA with honors, yet his immigration status caused him to lose many job opportunities.

With Trump’s second term, Lan's son's mental health has deteriorated even further. Anh has suffered major depression for many years because he’s afraid of being deported. 

"If it wasn’t for you, Mom, I would have ended my life a long time ago," Lan tearfully recalled Anh's words.

She revealed that Anh had thought about suicide twice.

For years, Lan and her son sought help from immigrant support organizations and immigration lawyers to seek counseling to find a way for the mother and son to legally stay in the U.S, but their efforts yielded no promising results.

"My son and I just want the chance to work and pay taxes like everyone else, but…" she choked up.

Research from Refugees.org shows that migrants with uncertain legal statuses experience significantly higher rates of mental illness compared to those with secure status. A qualitative synthesis revealed six recurring themes: fear of deportation, uncertainty, social exclusion, stigmatization, the importance of social connections, and the influence of religion. Clinicians are encouraged to adopt an eco-social approach that addresses both the stressors and symptoms faced by these individuals. Additionally, policymakers can reduce the risk of mental disorders among migrants by implementing measures that provide swift pathways to protected status.

Paul C. Hoang, a licensed clinical social worker and president of Moving Forward Psychological Institute cautions against issuing diagnoses to symptoms that are rooted in the uncertainty of the political moment. “Some of what the community members are experiencing right now is valid and is a normal response to their experiences and so anxiety is a normal response to a situation where they don’t feel safe,” he said during a panel discussion on immigrant mental health earlier this year.

Deportation threats worsen existing mental health struggles

On January 29, President Donald Trump signed into law the Laken Riley Act, targeting undocumented immigrants. This law mandates the detention of individuals who are arrested, or accused of, or have admitted to committing certain crimes — even if they have not been proven guilty.         

The listed offenses include theft, fraud, petty crimes, assaulting law enforcement officers, or any crime resulting in serious bodily injury or death.

California’s response to deportation threats has been robust. Governor Newsom allocated a total of $50 million and signed several laws to shield the state’s policies from challenges by the Trump administration while defending immigrants amid plans for mass deportations. However, California Republicans urged Newsom to veto two of these bills signed in the beginning of February: one allocating $25 million for immigrant legal defense and the other directing $25 million to Attorney General Rob Bonta for litigation against the Trump administration.

Anh-Tu, a Garden Grove resident and green card holder, saw his life turned upside down because of one mistake.

Anh-Tu immigrated to the U.S. at age 13, earned a master’s degree in counseling, and worked for 10 years as an academic counselor at a high school in Anaheim.

One night 4 years ago, in a moment of anger, he got into an argument with his neighbor and inadvertently made a threatening remark. As a result, the police took him into custody.

He was sentenced to more than a year in jail. Because he was only a permanent resident and not a U.S. citizen, upon completing his sentence, he was immediately transferred to an ICE detention center.

"I spent six months in a detention center under conditions worse than prison. But that was years ago,” he said. 

“I still feel bitter for those who were deported back to countries they barely knew, with no family or support system. For now, my situation is stable, but I have no idea what the future holds," Anh-Tu reflected.

According to a study published in January by the Harbor Institute for Immigrant and Economic Justice: "Transferring immigrant and refugee community members to ICE custody threatens their mental and physical health, in part due to unsanitary and inhumane conditions in detention centers.”

"I’m outraged that Trump is enforcing mass deportations so indiscriminately, even targeting children," Anh-Tu shook his head.

He was diagnosed with psychological disorders, including ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), depression, and bipolar disorder.

He explained that part of his mental health struggles are genetic, while another part stem from the difficulties of adapting to life in the U.S. as an immigrant.

His condition worsened during his time in detention, and he now relies on medication to manage his mental health. He describes his illness as a "tsunami" that constantly threatens to "swallow" his willpower.

Today, he fights through his fears and uncertainties as he worries about being deported back to Viet Nam.

"I’m trying to move on with my life," he said.

He’s now focusing on his work—counseling patients with severe mental health crises—and is considering enrolling in a master’s program for mental health counseling. 

The stories of Lan, her son, Anh, and Anh-Tu, showcase the struggles that immigrants living in constant fear of deportation experience.