Sinai Residence’s President & CEO, Rachel Blumberg shares her perspective and speaks up for many of our beloved employees.
The recent Supreme Court ruling that paves the way for the deportation of Venezuelan nationals under the Temporary Protected Status (TPS) has left me shaken. It was a moment that may have seemed technical to some, but to me — and to thousands of others — it felt like a warning bell. I cannot help but think, if the powers that be in D.C. can strip these protections from Venezuelans who have built their lives here, who’s next?
At Toby & Leon Cooperman Sinai Residences of Boca Raton, I lead one of Florida’s premier continuing care retirement communities. We are a mission-driven, not-for-profit continuing care retirement community that employs approximately 450 dedicated individuals. And what truly sets us apart isn’t our facilities — it’s our people, many of whom are Haitian and Cuban nationals protected by TPS.
These men and women are not just employees — they are caregivers. They are healers. They are trusted companions to our residents. They are the beating heart of Sinai. They’ve worked through hurricanes, pandemics, holidays, and personal losses. They’ve gone above and beyond — not because they were asked to, but because that’s who they are. Their work is personal. It is human. It’s filled with dignity and compassion. And now, I fear that their future may be in jeopardy — not because of anything they’ve done, but because of where they were born.
When I saw the news about Venezuelan TPS protections being struck down, I didn’t think about politics, I thought about the people who I see every day as I walk the halls. Team members who built their lives here — who have become part of our lives.
At Sinai Residences, it is our culinary team that will most likely be hit hardest, but this loss reverberates across our entire campus — from certified nursing assistants to housekeeping to groundskeeping, to facility maintenance and beyond. I’ve personally spoken with the staff most at risk. They’ve shared with me, often tearfully, what awaits them next. These individuals are tax-paying, law-abiding, essential members of the American workforce. They have put down roots, raised children, bought homes, and devoted themselves to a life of service. In every sense that matters, they are part of our community. And to remove them now would not just be a bureaucratic adjustment — it would be a moral failure.
I am also deeply concerned for the practical implications. The senior care industry is already grappling with historic workforce shortages. These workers — our workers — are not easily replaced. In fact, I don’t believe they can be replaced. Because it isn’t just about filling a shift. It’s about showing up with the heart, resilience and integrity that defines what we do.
And it’s not just us. Nationwide, the ramifications of deportation for these key citizens will affect all of us, which can lead to deterioration of our healthcare system, hospitals, clinics, nursing homes, home health aides, etc. I am speaking out today because I have to. Because silence is complicity. Because watching this happen to another group of hard-working, dedicated individuals has made the threat to our own team members feel all the more real.
To those in positions of power, I ask you to look beyond the legal arguments. See the people. See the contributions. See the love and labor that immigrants with TPS bring to this country every single day. Do not punish them for building a life here. Do not erase them from the communities they have helped shape. Protect TPS. Protect the people who have protected us. The future of our community depends on them. But more importantly, so does our humanity.
