By Kara Grace Hess, Senior Associate Editor
Editors Note: Interviews for this article were conducted in English and Spanish. All quotes that are originally in Spanish appear verbatim, and an English translation will appear below it. Quotes were translated by Kara Grace Hess and proofed by Anna Mares. For the Spanish version of the article, click here.
Para la versión en español de este artículo, haga click aqui.
In the days following “Operation Absolute Resolve,” the order given by President Donald Trump capturing the former President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, the family group chat of Santi Tucker, a Venezuelan Wheaton College senior studying business and economics, was flooded with videos of family members taking to the streets in Caracas among neighbors shouting “libertad,” meaning liberty.
While the text messages from family members were overwhelmingly celebratory, Tucker has noticed politically charged discourse on social media — opinions and analyses seem to be all over the place, and the outcry online does not feel accurate compared to the sentiments he and his family members have expressed. Tucker believes the root of this disconnect lies in the forgotten economic and political history of Venezuela.
“This isn’t one guy who came into power and everything went poorly,” he said. “There was an underlying hope that Maduro had to be taken out of power.”
Tucker still has cousins living in the country, whose access to resources like food and running water are extremely limited as a result of the economic depression. He said their family was boiling water to cook spaghetti and reusing it as drinking water. They have access to about one hour of running water a week. For Tucker’s cousins, Maduro’s capture was a signal that Venezuela could return to its former status as an economic powerhouse.
Venezuela was the wealthiest country in South America during the 1970s and ‘80s. With one of the largest proved oil reserves, it was among the top 20 richest countries at the time. However, that status began to crumble under the authoritarian tendencies and poor economic policies of Hugo Chavez, president from 1999 to 2013.
Maduro was elected in 2013, and oil prices fell dramatically. Oil products accounted for roughly 95% of its export earnings and 16% of its gross domestic product (GDP) at the time, and the price drops led the economy to collapse.
Inflation rose dramatically, and shortages of many basic commodities such as food and medicine followed. Many anti-government protests ensued. Despite this, Maduro was still re-elected in 2018 in what many call an unfair election because of alleged electoral malpractice. Then-National Assembly Speaker Juan Guaidó said he would not recognize the result, a stance backed by 46 other countries, including the United States. However, the military continued supporting Maduro and arrested many of those who offered public dissent, leading to his continued power status.
In 2024, when Unity candidate Edmundo González ran against Maduro, a similar display occurred. While tallies uploaded online showed González winning the popular vote, the Maduro government and its allies within the National Electoral Council of Venezuela announced Maduro as the only valid winner.
More than 7.9 million Venezuelans have left the country since 2014, making it the largest Latin American exodus in modern history and one of the largest displacement crises in the world, according to the United Nations Refugee Agency. Nearly a quarter of the population has left in an attempt to escape widespread poverty and violence resulting from political turmoil and economic collapse.
Among them are Anderson Commons Staff, Jeannette Patino and Javier Camacaro, who left Venezuela and their extended family because of political persecution. They spent five years in Colombia before coming to the U.S. after receiving an opportunity from the United Nations to be granted refugee status for political asylum. Patino works as a preparatory cook and Camacaro makes the pizzas for Wheaton’s cafeteria, which they have done for two years this June.
When they first heard about the capture of Maduro their initial reaction was of “felicidad,” or happiness. Camacaro said they were relieved to hear about the capture of Maduro, who had “robbed” previous elections and whose regime was a large reason they had left. Looking forward, Patino still feels hopeful.
“Si, estamos contentos de lo que pasó, pero todavía falta mucho para reconstruir el país, terminar de sacar toda esa gente para que Venezuela sea totalmente libre.”
“Yes, we are content with what has happened, but right now there is a need to rebuild the country to get all of those people out so Venezuela can be totally free.”
When she lived in Venezuela, Patino worked at the Ministry of Environment, where she managed the offices that advocated for policies related to natural resources. While there, many staff took to the streets to protest policies during former Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez’s administration between 1999 and 2013, but that became a risk because “los colectivos” or paramilitary groups that were loyal to Chavez and later Maduro came after those who spoke out. Ultimately, this dangerous environment is what incited the couple to leave the country.
“No había tanta corrupción como en estos momentos,” Camacaro dijo.
“There wasn’t as much corruption back then as there is now,” Camacaro said.
Jadisha Vargas-Correa, a Puerto Rican doctoral student in Wheaton’s clinical psychology program, is studying the recent wave of Venezuelan immigrants who arrived in the U.S. between 2015 and now. Her work aims to help clinicians and researchers better understand the unique identities and experiences of Venezuelan refugees and immigrants relative to other Latin American populations.
Her findings suggest that, among other causes, Venezuelan’s perception of the immigration climate in the US can affect their sense of how welcoming their community in Chicago is, as well as their sense of belonging in a new place. The perceived “anti-immigrant” social-political environment that Venezuelans experience in the U.S. also seem to play a role in mental health outcomes. Vargas-Correa believes that it is imperative to understand how mental health care can address this population’s present needs.
“Refugees face unique mental health challenges often overlooked in broader Latinx immigrant research,” she said.
Vargas-Correa lives and attends church in Humboldt Park, Chicago with a large Venezuelan population. There, she leads psychoeducation seminars for her congregation on relevant mental health-related topics, including addiction, depression, anxiety and trauma. She also volunteers to work with Spanish-speaking and Venezuelan individuals at Thanami, which offers mental health and counseling services for low-income patients.
Her personal experience with Venezuelans in those contexts leads her to believe that the response to recent developments in U.S.- Venezuela relations is complex — comparing it to a grieving process. Though many feel glad that Maduro is out of the country, those in the most recent immigration wave to the US must consider what it means to lack temporary protected status at this time — wrestling with seemingly antithetical emotions.
“We don’t navigate lives dichotomously. We navigate our lives with complexities and that is one of them at this point,” she said. “Hope, but also a feeling of tension.”
Amidst the ongoing crises and uncertainty Patino and Camacaro still hold hope to eventually return to Venezuela. Looking to the future, they feel that the best outcome of the U.S. intervention would be a democratic election to start reconstruction of the country.
“Tenemos la fe que hagan otras elecciones y no sean elecciones corruptas ni elecciones compradas,” Camacaro dijo.
“We have the faith that they will have other elections that won’t be corrupt or compromised,” Camacaro said.
“Nuestra esperanza es volver para Venezuela,” Patino dijo.
“Our hope is to return to Venezuela,” Patino said.
At the root of their hope to go back is a genuine devotion to their homeland. Despite the economic ruin that has taken place, Patino’s love for the country of her family hasn’t wavered.
“Sí, de verdad que si usted conociera Venezuela se enamoraría de Venezuela,” Patino dijo.
“If you knew Venezuela you would fall in love with Venezuela,” Patino said.
Editor’s note: a former version of the article referred to “Thanami” as “Nami.” The Record regrets the oversight.
