Immigrant Businesses Struggle Under Second Trump Administration

By Aidan Stewart, Elizabeth Pond and Cole Carmichael through a collaboration with News Corps at CU Boulder’s College of Media, Communication and Information

When “L,” an immigrant owner of an Aurora Mexican restaurant who requested anonymity, cut the ribbon for the grand opening of her business in August of 2024, she had dreams of booming business, happy customers, and a bright future in America. 

In the first few months the restaurant was open, these reveries seemed to be coming true. Tables were filled with smiling patrons, and L felt she was finally beginning to live the famed American dream. 

But, as the usually bustling lunchtime hours approached on the day of Donald Trump’s 2025 inauguration, L found herself standing among 15-plus empty tables in the cheerful and well-staffed dining room.

A month later, on a sunny Wednesday in February, L found herself experiencing much of the same. 

The restaurant was filled with dappled lunchtime sunshine streaming in from the large front windows, along with eager staff, gleaming tables, colorful flags, and cheerful Mexican music swelling from the speakers. The smell of sautéed vegetables, chicken and steak wafted from the kitchen in the back of the restaurant. But only a single table was occupied.

“Things were going well, and then the 20th of January hit, and, well,  you can see with your own eyes how business is going,” L said.

L’s restaurant isn’t the only immigrant-owned establishment experiencing a sharp decline. Across Aurora, businesses once bustling with customers are now operating on reduced hours or closing altogether. The shift began after Trump announced “Operation Aurora,” an immigration enforcement initiative first referenced during his October 2024 speech at the Gaylord Rockies Resort.

Though billed as targeting undocumented immigrants with criminal charges, the policy has had a chilling effect across the entire immigrant community, including documented business owners like L. 

“People are afraid to go to the gym, the grocery store…and restaurants,” she said. “Even if they’re here legally, they’re scared.”

L, originally from Mexico, has lived in the United States for three years. According to L, the immigrant community in Aurora, whether of documented status or not, has been steering clear of public businesses, in large part due to President Trump’s proposed “Project Aurora” and related fears of ICE activity. 

“My kids feel secure in my [legal] status,” L said, “but many children are scared right now. An 11-year-old kid in the community who used to go to school with my son killed herself because she was afraid her parents were going to be deported. This stuff has a lot of really big effects.” 

Another snowball effect of the new administration that L has witnessed touch immigrant businesses has come from widespread government staffing cuts, as well as general fears from the working class of potential negative economic effects from current policies.

As the Trump administration, led by Elon Musk, has sought to swiftly cut the size of the federal government workforce, some regular clientele of L’s restaurant have found themselves unable to continue supporting the business amidst fears of deteriorating job security.

“Just recently she told me she’s sorry, but she doesn’t think she can come anymore,” said L of a non-immigrant friend of hers who works in government in the Denver Metropolitan area. “She’s afraid she’s going to lose her job and won’t be able to afford it.” 

According to the American Immigration Council, as of 2018, 16% of business owners in the Denver/Aurora metropolitan area were immigrants. Those businesses range from jewelry stores to restaurants to ice cream and coffee shops to clothing stores. 

For many, the current political climate has become not just a bureaucratic obstacle, but a direct threat to their livelihoods. Ujwal Sunuwar, a Nepalese immigrant who runs Southpark Liquors and Namaste Plumbing with his family, has felt the impact firsthand.

“Our liquor prices are going even higher these days, I guess because of the tariffs,” Sunuwar said. “The same product is not the same price anymore. Now we have to pay extra, and with that, our customer is getting distracted because, you know, they know the price, they know their product. They’ve been coming here a long time, and now, with the price changes, they are not willing to come.”

Even though Sunuwar and his employees are all documented, the fear is still palpable. 

“There’s a fear of immigrants right now,” he said. “[Some people say], ‘You don’t look American enough,’ And with this ICE raiding in a lot of places, there’s always that fear coming in, even for the legal immigrants. You feel like someone might just stop you somewhere and might start asking you all kinds of questions … that fear is spreading all over here.”

Sunuwar and his family moved from Nepal to the U.S. in 2015. His father, Deepak Sunuwar, who came the year before his family, has now returned to Nepal to run the Nepalese conglomerate of Namaste Plumbing while Ujwal handles operations stateside.

When the Sunuwar family first came to the U.S., they “started from zero,” economically and community-wise, according to Sunuwar. It took months just to secure a loan to open the family’s first business. 

“For us to open this business, I remember I had to go through so many documents just to get the loan approved,” he said. “It was not easy. It took me three, four months just to get through the process.”

Now, more than half their profits go toward interest payments. And the climate of fear is making growth harder. Still, Sunuwar sees a strength in their diversity. 

“Not everyone knows English,” Sunuwar said. “So, we, in our company, have people who speak Nepali, who speak Hindi; we speak Spanish and English. So, we are able to connect with more communities here. I would like to say the main purpose for us is to serve our community.”

Community service is also the mission of Enrique Sanchez, the Intermountain State Director for the American Business Immigration Coalition (ABIC). A DACA recipient himself, Sanchez knows firsthand how immigration status can limit opportunity.

Sanchez grew up wanting to be a police officer. He earned an associate’s degree in criminal justice and worked as a civilian for a local police department in Utah, but his immigration status prevented him from working in law enforcement.

“Going back to high school, that’s when I found out about my immigration status, and the reason why is because [at] the top of a police officer application, U.S. citizenship [is] the first requirement,” said Sanchez.

Sanchez, a recent University of Utah graduate, was involved in various activist efforts to change laws so that immigrants like him could work in law enforcement, but was ultimately unsuccessful.

“You know, that was kind of a huge disappointment,” Sanchez said. “And so that’s kind of what drove me into advocacy.”

Sanchez is pushing for bipartisan immigration reform that secures the border but also provides legal pathways for immigrants contributing to the U.S. economy. 

“We believe that if people have been in this country, contributing to the economy [and] their communities, there’s got to be a way for the United States to provide a way for them to remain in this country legally,” Sanchez said. “These mass deportations are hurting us economically, and so it’s important that we work with Congress and President Trump to get a bipartisan solution that both secures the border, but also provides a way for essential workers and dreamers to be able to remain in this country legally.” 

According to Sanchez, the statistics ABIC has on Colorado as of 2022 show 384,100 immigrant workers in the labor force throughout the state. These numbers reflect most immigrant workers being in construction, transportation, warehouses, wholesale trade, general services, manufacturing, and seasonal work.

“If we want our Coloradans to be able to go to their favorite restaurant or to be able to ski at their favorite resort, it’s important for [immigration policy] solutions to take place,” Sanchez said. “[ABIC’s] main goal is to minimize the disruptions to the workforce and day-to-day operations. So, what we would like to see is the administration work with bipartisan members of Congress to be able to find a solution.”

Andrea Loya, executive director of Casa de Paz, an Aurora-based temporary safehouse for immigrants recently released from the Aurora ICE Processing Center, echoed worries surrounding the economic and diverse future of Aurora and Denver under Trump’s renewed leadership. 

“When you look at Aurora—and I grew up in Aurora—you see all the businesses that are operated by migrants, and then you also look at how many people in Aurora consume that [business],” Loya said. She is a long-time Aurora resident who moved to the U.S. from Mexico City with her immigrant parents when she was three years old. 

“People are already not showing up to school because of this fear [of deportation],” Loya said. “Our economy, our work system…we can just think of how bad that is going to [get] if people stop showing up to work, or people stop showing up to these businesses, because that’s where ICE is showing up. I think it’s important to think about how hugely this is going to impact our communities.”

Casa de Paz, or House of Peace, has been operating since 2012, and long-time employees like Loya and Bella have now witnessed the effects of two Trump administrations on the immigrant population of Aurora. 

“[It] wasn’t rare to see [during Trump’s first term] [immigrants] getting picked up before work,” Loya said. “They were having ICE pick them up outside of their jobs, waiting for them.”

Loya recalled a story of a Casa de Paz guest in 2019 who was delivered to the safehouse directly out of a several-day containment while still wearing his work uniform. 

“He actually was released [from the Aurora ICE Processing Center] in work boots, and he had an orange vest,” Loya said. “Just [ wearing] all his work wear, because they caught him as he was walking out the door [of his job]. They just asked him, ‘Are you so-and-so?’ and he said yes, and then they just cuffed him. And that was on a charge he had already served time for in the 90s.” 

According to Loya, what Casa de Paz has seen so far in Trump’s second term suggests a likely repetition of the previous Trump administration’s behavior, which has sparked renewed fear in Aurora’s immigrant community.

 “This [type of targeted activity] is not something I think we can put past [the Trump administration] to do again, which would then put a huge, huge target on people who are just trying to work,” Loya said.  

According to Loya, the Aurora ICE Processing Center makes $190 per bed filled, creating a monetary incentive behind immigrant detainment efforts. The consequences of such policies are already being felt across Aurora. 

State Rep. Naquetta Ricks described a recent ICE raid at a local car wash where multiple immigrant employees were taken into custody. This ultimately caused the business to shut down completely due to a lack of staff.  

Situations like these, said Ricks, are not one-offs and have been reaching businesses across Aurora since Trump stepped back into office in January of this year. 

Ricks also expressed concern over new operations at Buckley Air Force Base, now being used to stage ICE actions. In one case, a DoorDash delivery driver was detained after bringing an order to the base—an incident that advocacy groups fear may indicate targeted enforcement.

Katie Leonard, an organizer with the Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL), described Know Your Rights efforts for immigrant workers and business owners specifically being a priority for the PSL at this time. PSL has been dispersing informational pamphlets and posters to businesses across the community in droves, according to Leonard. 

“You’d be hard-pressed to find somewhere [in the Colfax area] that hasn’t spoken to us about the Know Your Rights Campaign,” Leonard said. “And it’s really important, because it can affect their business.” 

Leonard described members of the Aurora and Denver communities as being vocal, whether via protests, contacting Colorado lawmakers, or engaging in other activism, about protecting the diversity and vibrant immigrant economy in the area. 

“We’ve had an amazing community response,” said Leonard.

Back at L’s restaurant, the atmosphere hasn’t changed. The food is still delicious. The service is warm. But on a recent Wednesday afternoon in late February, just one table was occupied.

“I don’t want to go out of business,” said L during that cold day in late February, staring out the front window of the restaurant at the empty, ice-coated sidewalk.

“We only just got started.”