Flor prepares fondant unicorn ears for a cake at her Chelsea bakery. A large mixer is whirring in the corner as another employee prepares four pans of batter. Later, she will prepare tres leche, a Mexican dessert.
She eyes the cans of condensed milk on the table that have recently gotten more expensive, one of many things in the past year that's changed for her business since President Donald Trump took office.
She remembers one day last year when things were unusually quiet. Two people she hadn't seen before bought coffee, and she got a text later from neighbors with photos of them at the corners of her business, saying they were part of immigration enforcement.
"They were there near the front outside. That's when I understood, of course, this is why we don't have business. We closed our doors early for two days because everyone was terrified," said Flor. GBH News agreed to only use Flor's first name, as she is in the process of getting a green card, and is afraid of being targeted by immigration enforcement.
Flor's bakery is one of many immigrant-owned businesses experiencing residual effects of Trump administration policies— from reduced foot traffic and staffing due to immigration enforcement and fear to the rising costs of goods.
Immigrant-owned businesses are less likely to get small business loans, as they are often considered higher-risk. While municipalities and allies in the nonprofit and entrepreneurial world have stepped up to help, obtaining capital has become more difficult.
At a recent roundtable for immigrant business owners, Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley reflected on what she had heard. "They find themselves navigating an uncertain terrain given the chaotic economic policies — including tariffs — by the Trump administration, and they find themselves at the intersection of anti-immigrant policies and a hostile economy towards entrepreneurs," she said.
Elizabeth Sweet of the Massachusetts Immigrant and Refugee Advocacy Coalition, said the state has at least 91,400 immigrant entrepreneurs who generate $3.1 billion in business income.
"We heard from one business owner who's operated a business more than 20 years, another who's been in business for nine years. These are people who've invested deeply in our communities," she said.
Multiple challenges
One of Flor's employees quit since her commute was too far to justify the risk of being detained by ICE. As a result, the amount of work doubled since she was down an employee. Then foot traffic decreased because of ICE activity in the city. Simultaneously, the prices of ingredients rose. Five pounds of fondant went from $15 to $30.
"We had to raise the prices of our baked goods, and I had to meet with an accountant to see how we could survive these months," she said.
Flor came to the U.S. when she was 17, leaving gang violence behind in her small town in Mexico. Today, she has three daughters, and runs the bakery with her husband while sending funds back to her parents and a sister with disabilities in Mexico.
Flor took culinary classes in order to bolster her skills and open her business. She caters, goes to events in the community, and lights up when she discusses the recipes behind her baked goods.
She wants her business to survive so she can see her daughters prosper in careers of their choice. The teen wants to be an architect, and the younger one, a psychologist.
"The main point for me is that our children do not have the life that we had," Flor said. "We're working hard to make this business work so we can support them doing that."
'Even if they have papers, they're afraid to come'
Akou Diabakhate unpacks a small microdermabrasion kit for a client resting inside of an LED light therapy machine as reggae music lilted in the background.
Diabakhate, the founder of Bold Skin Babe, calls it a space where Black and brown individuals come to have their "face, skin, and also mental health set up." The skincare company has two locations, including this one near Boston's City Hall.
Originally from Senegal in West Africa, Diabakhate came to the U.S. in 2010 on a student visa to study English.
She learned about skincare as second-runner up for Miss Africa USA. But she noticed foundation and makeup didn't match her skin tones, and other women were intimidated by the lack of make-up to fit their needs.
"I said, 'Why don't we have a place that people that look like me can go to to have their skin taken care of, to understood this skin?"
Diabakhate went to cosmetology school and opened her spa in downtown Boston, using products that are culturally competent and work for everyone. She eventually went through the long and expensive process to acquire a green card, then citizenship. Her business thrived with the help of city grant.
One of the first things Diabakhate noticed about the shifts in the Trump administration was the limitation on grants to small business owners through municipalities.
She's also seen reduced foot traffic from clients, many of whom are Haitians with temporary protected status. "Even if they have papers, they're afraid to come."
Her clients come from as far south as Brockton and even Connecticut.
"If you are an immigrant and you are scared for your life, there's no way you're going to come out that far, if you're scared of getting grabbed on the streets." Diabakhate said she considers her clients like "family." She had a client, a single mother with temporary protected status, who has struggled financially with the constant status shifts under the Trump administration.
So Diabakhate offered her a payment plan. "My clients are very transparent with me ... economically, sometimes they cannot make it," she said "They will tell me straight, 'Akou, I can't come this month."'
Diabakhate recently participated in the immigrant-owned business roundtable with Pressley at a newly opened Ethiopian restaurant, where she discussed the challenges she and others have faced.
"Immigrant entrepreneurs often face additional barriers, limited access to capital, language challenges, complex regulations, and fewer professional network," Diabkahete said. "Yet, despite these obstacles, we continue to build, to hire, and to contribute."
'We love this country'
At the small business event, Yousef Irziqat, owner of Crispy Dough Pizzeria and Hebron Market in Mission Hill, spoke to Pressley about the high cost of goods to his business, and the investments he'd made into the community as an entrepreneur. "We love this country more than Trump, definitely," he said.
Irziqat grew up in Palestine on the West Bank and left for the U.S. after Israeli checkpoints made it difficult for him to practice law. He moved to the Massachusetts in 2006, working at his brother's pizza shop, and started his own in 2011. He later became a U.S. citizen.
Crispy Dough has become a hotspot for hungry college students and visitors to the Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center. Irziqat sells only halal food, preparing meats in a way that follow Islamic law, and eventually opened Hebron Market nearby, with a butcher counter and international food items. The goods come from everywhere: lamb from Maine, teas and baklava from Turkey.
But the prices are rising. On a recent visit to his businesses, Irziqat showed GBH News receipts from 2024 and 2025 for certain goods, comparing them to last week's receipts.
Multi-pound packages of meat have grown astronomically more expensive.
"The Philly steak used to be $33. Now it's $54," said Irziqat. "You know what that means? If I'm making $3 out of each sandwich, now I'm making $1.80."
Likewise, a shipment of pizza boxes from Turkey used to be $27, and now they're $33.
Irziqat says he understands putting tariffs on technology and cars, but not on vegetables and food. "You're affecting your citizens. Trust me — it's too expensive for them," he said.
Irziqat says his employees all have legal status, mostly green cards. But given today's atmosphere, some are worried about being detained anyway. Some have asked for different shifts in hopes of feeling safer.
"I stay online on the camera. I don't go sleep until the guys leave the store. They are like a family to me, so I just cannot let them go. If [federal agents] get them, they'll throw them somewhere, and I don't know how to get them."
'Foot traffic was non-existent'
East Somerville is a hub for immigrants from El Salvador, Brazil and Haiti, as well as for businesses owned by immigrants. There are about 100 small businesses in the area, and around 70% are immigrant-owned, according to East Somerville Main Streets.
La Brasa was one of those. Chef and founder Daniel Bojorquez has previosuly worked at top restaurants like L'Espalier and Sel de la Terre.
The high-end cuisine was centered around a wood-burning stove, with dishes ranging from roasted meats to street foods. But the past year dealt the business a bad hand. Profit margins shrank. The business needs around $30,000 a week to succeed, but made just $1,200 over a few days back in November. What was once a restaurant with 30 employees shrank to about seven. La Brasa closed in January.
"Foot traffic was just non-existent," he said. Bojorquez thinks there isn't a single factor that ended the business. The impact of the economy on customers' disposable income was part of it, especially with La Brasa's higher price point, but immigration concerns also played a part. Customers, he said, want to be comfortable.
"People think of East Somerville as like kind of like the center of this sort of immigration crackdown. People don't want to see that. I think people think twice about visiting the area," he said.
"The September surge caused a shift in behavior that hasn't ended, with the nearly daily detentions Somerville was seeing, said Lindsay Allen, executive director of the main streets group. Businesses across the board have seen a "significant decrease" in revenue, she said.
Help for immigrant entrepreneurs
Allen, of East Somerville Main Streets, is trying to address the problem through a technical assistance program with 45 businesses. She said just over 40 of them are immigrant-owned. They help with licensing assistance, grant application support, and improving business' websites so customers can directly order from them, instead of going through GrubHub or UberEats.
They also have a program with Connexion church on Wednesdays where people come to volunteer at a community meal for vulnerable residents, and then stop by local restaurants.
"We're trying to create foot traffic," she said. "If it gets to the point where the business actually needs to close, we help them with selling equipment. We've helped them with working out leases. With one, the business gave the landlord all of their equipment to end the lease."
In Boston, Aliesha Porcena, the city's director of small business for the Office of Economic Opportunity and Inclusion, said she's aware of the impact of tariffs as well as situations where ICE has detained workers. The office has a targeted approach, where small businesses can join a technical assistance program where they are paired with "subject matter experts" who can help them improve "gaps that need to be addressed to help build their capacity."
In Chelsea, which has a significant foreign-born population, people are afraid to go out due to immigration enforcement sightings.
"We have a number of restaurants and businesses in the community that have had a kitchen basically shut down because either individuals fear leaving, they might not be documented, or they've already been detained," said Jennifer Hassell, executive director of Chelsea Chamber of Commerce. She works with Lawyers for Civil Rights to make sure business owners and residents know their rights.
Other nonprofits are working to help make things easier for employers. Pathway for Immigrant Workers, for instance, supports employers so they can sponsor low-wage workers for a green card.
"I think all businesses who hire foreign nationals are feeling the effects of the anti-immigrant policies coming out of this administration," said Leslie Tuttle Ditrani, executive director of the Cambridge nonprofit. "They're afraid for their employees who are coming to work, but now coming to work with a level of fear that is understandable and affects entire operations."
Sometimes help comes from an employer who may not be an immigrant, but understands the impact an ICE sighting can have.
"I have two individuals with work permits and they have done everything by the law. They do have a social security number to continue to work, but they feel very unsafe," said Tanairi Garcia, a Puerto Rican City councilor in Chelsea and owner of the Aloe Natural Açai & Coffee Shop. She has a friend who is a lawyer come by and give a presentation on what to do if detention were to happen, including preparing guardianship of their children.
In the past year, ICE agents have been spotted outside of the coffee shop a few times in Chelsea, she said. She closed down shop to protect customers.
"I will take that loss in order to maintain them safe. Without our immigrant families, my businesses will be nowhere," she said.
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