Features
Bygone Winnipeg: A fictitous story based on true events: University of Manitoba Faculty of Medicine 1932-1944
By DAVID TOPPER Call me a witness. I was there and heard almost everything that’s relevant to this story.
Yet, thinking deeper, I guess you could call me a spy – well, at least, some may say that, for there was an element of skulduggery in my employment situation. It was all because of my father, who changed my name when I was born. Of course, we’re all born with a surname, but―
Wait. Let’s first go back to my grandfather, Moshe Levinstein, who was born in Russia, and who as a young man experienced a small pogrom – small in terms of later ones – which was enough to convince him to emigrate as fast as he could. Several people were killed, a house was burned down, and there was a rape – that ‘small’ event drove him to leave Russia, forever. He never looked back, even when Winnipeg, Canada turned out not to be quite the paradise he expected. Because he quickly found that anti-Semitism was endemic.
My father, Solomon Levinstein, while growing up, saw the struggle his parents went through being Jews in a Christian country (with the English majority Protestant, and the minority French Catholic), and he wanted to protect me as best he could when I was born. He wanted me to fit into the social fabric more than he ever could. And since I turned out to be a girl, there were even more barriers on my horizon – ‘closed doors,’ he called it. He told us that he was thinking about all this when I was still in my mother’s womb. You see, he liked to ‘plan ahead,’ which was another of his favourite phrases.
Oh, speaking of being in the womb: my grandmother died when my mother was eight months pregnant with me, and so I was supposed to be named some variation of Minnie Levinstein, as is the Jewish tradition. But since my father was obsessed with my fitting in better than he did, and he also wanted me to get through some otherwise ‘closed doors’ – I was named Mildred Evans. He said Evans and ‘Levins’ rhyme, and so do Millie and Minnie. It was also a nice Aryan-sounding name, “as the Germans would say,” he said.
Mind you, while growing up as Mildred Evans, I nonetheless didn’t hide my Jewishness. Indeed, I often went to synagogue on Saturday/Sabbath. But then, I also often went to church on Sunday and―
Um, I guess I need to explain that. You see, my best friend was Mary O’Brian, which tells you that she was probably Irish Catholic, which she was. Now, here’s my perspective in all of this. I was very precocious and very smart and I read a lot. I liked languages. On weekends I enjoyed Hebrew in the Synagogue and Latin in the Church. Two ancient languages, one dead except for the Christian Mass, and the other kept alive in prayer and Torah study. Plus, you must remember that Latin was still taught in schools at this time; it was part of a Liberal Arts education in the first half of the 20th century. Many universities required High School Latin for entrance to their freshman classes. As well, to me, the Mass was like an opera, with singing and those glorious organ pipes vibrating and echoing throughout the church. Mary and I, by-the-by, went to the beautiful Cathedral in St. Boniface, with the astonishing and huge Rose window. You see, there were no organs in any synagogue. And so, it was not so strange for this Jew to enjoy the Catholic Mass as a musical event. Think of Bach, a devout Lutheran, who wrote his wonderful Mass in B-minor.
Anyway, to me the Mass was a show, and it was free – well not completely free, since the church always passed around a collection basket near the end of the service – a sort of pay-what-may type thing, you could say. I remember that Mary, when I took her to her first synagogue service, was surprised that there was no collection at the end, especially since after the service there was an oneg in the social hall, with food galore. But I digress.
The service of the Mass, to me, was not entirely unfamiliar, since there were many prayers and texts that borrowed passages from what they called The Old Testament: many of the sayings of the prophets, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others. “But what about the stuff on Jesus?” you may be asking, eh? Well, you see, I read a lot of history, as I told Mary – and I must say she was shocked when I first told her this; although eventually she (well, sort of) agreed with me – well, I told her that Jesus was not a Christian, but a Jew named Yeshua, and he always was; ‘Jesus’ was the later Latinized name. He had some differences with the Jewish hierarchy at the time, along with problems with the Romans who occupied the Holy Land, so much so that they (the Romans) crucified him. It was after his death that Christianity was born, due in large part to the preaching and writing of a Jew name Saul, whose name was later Latinized to ‘Paul’ after he had a vision of the resurrected Yeshua/Jesus. Saul/Paul made a strong case for rejecting many Jewish practices (such as circumcision), so much so that his sect broke free from its Jewish root. They became known as ‘Christians,’ since Paul preached that Yeshua was the real messiah (or ‘anointed one’), which in Greek is ‘Kristos,’ later Latinized to ‘Christus.’
Mary laughed when I said that therefore you might call the birth of Christianity a Jewish conspiracy. “Oh Millie,” she said. “You’re so smart it sometimes scares me. What is going to happen to you?”
Good question.
So, what did happen to me? Well it helped being smart, that’s for sure. Very smart, indeed. But not pushy. No, not pushy or impudent in any way. Not at all. You see, I was (and still am) happy with less – a lot less than I probably could have had. Yes, I lived (and still live) parsimoniously.
Well, I got a university education with excellent grades (as you might expect) but I didn’t go any further, although I could have, and was encouraged to do so. But I saw the university system as a barrier to women. And I was not inclined to fight the system. As I said, I was satisfied with less. While still a student at the University of Manitoba, I got part-time secretarial jobs, since I was a fabulous typist and proof reader. Even before I graduated, I was offered a full-time position as a secretary in the English Department, since their long-time-serving woman was thinking of retiring. And in the end, after graduation, I got the job.
It was the best decision of my life, looking back on it. You see, in this job I could go home at 5pm to my modest house not far from the university and forget about the job until the next morning. In the warmer weather I could walk to and fro; although in the dead of winter I took the short bus ride. After all, it was Winnipeg. And at home I could read whatever I wanted. Play the piano. Do my art work: drawing (pencil and/or pen & ink) and painting (only watercolour). Listen to the radio. And I read as much as I wanted: lots of books, magazines, and newspapers. I got the New York Times Sunday edition in the mail every week; it was a bit late, of course, but there were so many articles of interest that it was a source of almost endless reading throughout the week. For example, I recently came across this quote from the famous Albert Einstein in an article about him: “Perhaps it is due to anti-Semitism that we can preserve ourselves as a race; at least, this is what I believe.” I’ve been thinking a lot lately about this, especially in light of what I am going to tell you later. Incidentally, when I was a student, there were no Jewish professors on the faculty. Even as late as the mid-1940s, there were still only four Jewish professors.
In contrast to my life, my boss’s home life was filled with lectures to prepare, and even on weekends there were papers to mark, exams to compose and later to mark. And so it went. He often told me I was fortunate to be able to start a book and just read it at my leisure, right through if I wished. He confided in me that he seldom had time to read half of what he wanted to. I believe he liked talking to me, since I was smart. He often asked my advice regarding even the content of the texts that I was typing for him. We got along swimmingly, as you might surmise. We had a very good rela―
Okay, before you start fantasizing further, let me stop you. There was nothing beyond our professional relationship. Nothing at all. Throughout the university, in all my jobs – nothing. No flirting, never. I had no affairs in those years in various secretarial positions, if that’s what you’re thinking. And here’s why: I am not attractive. I knew this in High School, and was satisfied with it. Remember, I like a simple life, and I discovered that this unattractive state makes life uncomplicated – or, at least, less complicated than it otherwise might be. I could see among my classmates in school that the (let’s call them) ‘attractive’ girls had a life that was a roller-coaster ride. Up, happy, being gleeful; down, way down, when a guy dumped them. Yes, I saw some girls get really down; had to take pills; some even admitted to hospital. I thought: who needs this crap? I don’t want those ups and downs; I want a straight ride, flat. “Yes, just flat,” as I told Mary. She laughed, “Well that’s not the only thing that’s flat for you, huh”? We both had a good laugh at that. Remember we were best friends, and each could take a joke.
So, I tell you: my so-called ‘unattractiveness’ was a gift. Which I took and ran with, you might say. Today, you see: I wear no make-up, have a simple straight hair-do extending below my ears but not touching my shoulders, wear loose and non-flashy blouses, have only skirts far below my knees, and I wear sensible shoes – namely, flats (oh, that word again). All this ensured that my relationships with the men under whom I worked at the university would remain strictly professional. Let’s put it this way. I always had a good night’s solo sleep, if you know what I mean.
Of course, this is not to say that I never had an intimate relationship with anyone, but rather that it was not with any of my bosses – and I will leave it at that, for this has gone far beyond the original topic. But – and I emphasize this – all this is not a digression, for I very much want you to know about me and my life at the University of Manitoba, so as to put this story into context and to show how and why what I am going to tell you should not only be believed, but also taken seriously.
Further, to set the stage: I got along well with my fellow all-female secretaries and other staff at the university. My plainness was interpreted as a sort of prissiness, which is not true, but they didn’t know that. As Mildred Evans, I was asked what church I went to, and I told them St. Boniface Cathedral, since I did go to it when my friend Mary and I were kids, so strictly speaking my answer was no lie. Although I know their question had a different meaning. (Incidentally, Mary is now married and living in Toronto, raising her four kids.) They then asked why I go all the way to the other city to attend church and I told them it was about the music and the organ. They understood, and asked no more.
Also, due to my modest behaviour, they questioned why I was not a nun, and it led to them jokingly calling me Sister Millie. I said there was no such St. Mildred, although this may not be true, but then what do Protestants know about saints? – since Luther, Calvin, and the others eschewed them, along with the Virgin Mary, from their theology. And speaking of joking: being ‘Sister Millie’ among these Protestants, I was in an opportune position to reprimand them when they occasionally told anti-Semitic jokes or made similar remarks. And I did. As an art-lover, I also took the occasions to lecture them on the destruction of so much art by the Protestants during the Reformation: defacing and burning paintings, smashing statues, destroying stained-glass windows, and more. They knew none of this; it was a shock to them. They were not taught such things in Sunday-school, they said.
And that brings me to the reason for telling you all this in the first place. For, as I began, I said I was a witness, or even a spy. But for what? Well, for what may be called the backroom conversations. The secret disc―
Wait, I’m getting ahead. Uh, let’s start here: After many years with the English Department, I was promoted to being secretary for the new Dean of Medicine, Dr. Warren Matthews. It began for me at end of term in late May 1932. Although the Dean’s term began in September, he occasionally came around during the summer months to bring things (books, files, and such) so that his office was ready in the fall. He got to know me a bit and seemed very pleased and comfortable with me. His wife, Eleanor, even came with him one summer day – I believe, to check me out. She was nicely dressed, looking very Anglo-Saxonish prim and proper, if there is such a thing. When she saw me, she first looked me straight in my eyes and, while she was saying some pleasantries, she panned down my body to my feet and back up to my face, and ended with a self-assured smile on her face. I passed, since I was clearly no threat to her sexuality, whatever there was of it.
I spent the summer getting adjusted to the new office, going through the files and sometimes reorganizing them my way, and changing some things around in the physical space of the office. For one thing, I preferred keeping my office door to the university closed, but with a COME IN sign, when I was there. I didn’t like the constant background noise and chatter, as well as obtrusive eyes walking past an open door. That summer, I also had lots of typing to do both for the new Dean and for others in the Department of Medicine.
By the fall, when the Dean came in for the new term, we could get right to work. And we did. We quickly developed a good working relationship. He was obviously comfortable with me, for he shortly said that I should just call him ‘Warren.’ Interestingly, he liked me keeping my door closed, since he preferred keeping his door open. He said he was a bit claustrophobic, plus he liked to hear my typing – it had a musical rhythm that he found restful. Importantly, this meant that I was privy to confidential remarks by the Dean and those who ran the administration of the university when they were in his office. In short, I was able to eavesdrop. And eavesdrop I did! And that’s why I’m telling you this.
But this spying came later. The reason I am telling you this is because of an event that took place not long after he got settled into his new office. I can still remember the day. It was first thing in the morning, and after the “how are you” etc., he told me to look at the records of students admitted to the Medical School in terms of their ethnic origin, particularly noting how many of them were Jews. “We already have too many Jews, Millie,” he said. It was a jolt, and although I’m sure I showed no visible signs of my reaction, internally I was shaken. So much so that I almost blew my cover. Yes, even as Mildred Evans, Sister Millie, it―
Well, it’s hard to explain. I was tempted, of course, to ask why, … but, of course, I didn’t. “I’ll get to it right away, Warren,” was the best thing I could say at the time, and I turned away walking toward a filing cabinet, as any loyal Anglo-Saxon secretary would do, but with shaking hands that I hid from my boss.
I found that on the application form there was a line for ‘racial origin,’ and so I was able to do my job. I discovered that throughout the 1920s there were usually about 64 students per year admitted, with 18-25% being Jewish. Other ethnic groups also came – Ukrainian, Polish, German, and so forth, but in smaller percentages. Most, not surprisingly, were Anglo-Saxon – good English stock, according to Warren. When I presented my finding to him, I added another category, and I prefaced it by saying that I hoped he didn’t think I was being impudent in doing so. It was the number of women admitted, which was very low – often none, sometimes one or two. Warren smiled and said it was fine for me to be “conscious of my sex” and he blushed after he said it. I think hearing himself saying the word ‘sex’ out-loud to me, well, it jolted him – the way, on the previous day, his word ‘Jews’ jolted me.
Subsequently, my eavesdropping elicited more examples of anti-Semitism endemic to the faculty, as he chatted in his office with other administrators, keeping his door open. They all agreed. “Too many pushy Jews.” “Since they invariably get high grades in school, if we don’t put a lid on the enrolment, soon they will all be Jews.” “If we don’t do something now, well Jews will take over the faculty.” “First the Jews and then Ukrainians or Poles.” “At least the Frenchies have their own college in St. Boniface.” And so it went – a litany of bigotry, discrimination, and prejudice straight from the mouths of the administrative faculty to the ears of Mildred Evans. At most, a few made mild queries as to the efficacy of it, and the possibility of “aggressive Jewish lawyers” filing a legal case against the practice.
In the end there was a quota system initiated for all incoming classes, keeping the Jewish enrolment low. In 1936, for example, only nine got in. In later years even fewer. Out of 60 or more students, sometimes only four to six were Jewish. Of course, this meant that Anglo-Saxon students with far lower grades than Jewish students were admitted in place of them. And this was for a school to train physicians, dealing with life and death. “Just what we need – dumber doctors,” I told my Jewish friends. You see, I didn’t hide my clandestine information. I told anyone who would listen to me. Unfortunately, where it might make a difference, I got indifference, brought on by fear. Rabbis were afraid to do anything. They went along with the quota rule. “Don’t make waves, things could get worse,” was a standard response. Yes, they went along with the quota system. “Don’t look like a ‘pushy Jew,’ at least we get the ones that we get,” I was told. “Look, honey, be happy with four to six doctors a year,” I was told to my face by a rabbi’s wife. The same thing from the Jewish establishment. The B’nai Brith was afraid to do anything because it might backfire and only make matters worse. Similarly, for the Canadian Jewish Congress, which was reluctant to get involved in this Winnipeg issue. “What wimps,” I told my friends. I did the best I could. I didn’t blow my cover.
For me this thing came to a head in 1943, when the med school again turned down many Jewish and some other ‘ethnic’ students, so as to admit Anglo-Saxon students with (in this case) not only lower grades – but they also admitted some students who didn’t even pass their university exams and thus were required to go to summer school! To me, this was the last straw. The Jewish students’ Avakah Zionist Society got wind of this and began to bring all this out into the open. They eventually got the help of a Jewish lawyer and, yes, a fuss was raised and pressure was put on the Board of the University of Manitoba.
Finally, in 1944, after a dozen years of overt discrimination, the Medical School removed the racial and religious categories in their application. The quota rule finally ended. I celebrated with my Jewish friends. And, yes, Mildred “Prissy” Evans got a little tipsy.
Speaking of celebrating. In 1949, Dr. Warren Matthews was awarded an Honourary Doctor of Laws for his dedicated service to the University. I was invited to a private party for him, but I made up some excuse as to why I couldn’t make it. You see, I was afraid that if I did go, I would not be able to control myself, and proper Mildred Evans, aka Sister Millie, would perform the very unladylike act of making a scene by copiously spitting into the party’s punch bowl.
* * *
Features
American Graduation Speakers Deliver Antizionist Views
By HENRY SREBRNIK Colleges and universities in the United States have hosted and encouraged a surge of radical and pervasive antisemitism in recent years. Graduation commencement ceremonies (known as convocations in Canada) have been a source of tensions over Israel since Oct. 7, 2023. Multiple schools have disciplined students who made pro-Palestinian comments in their speeches.
But professors have also fanned the flames. Faculty members have played a significant role in legitimizing and amplifying antisemitism on college campuses. They have shown a propensity to whitewash Hamas and vilify Israel rather than examine the conflict dispassionately.
University of Michigan professor Derek Peterson praised campus pro-Palestinian student protesters during his commencement speech in Ann Arbor on May 2. The History and African-American studies academic and outgoing faculty senate chair told the graduates to “Sing for the pro-Palestinian student activists who have, over these past two years, opened our hearts to the injustice and inhumanity of Israel’s war in Gaza.” His remarks received loud applause.
“We regret the pain this has caused on a day devoted to celebration and accomplishment. For this, the university apologizes,” Michigan’s interim president, Domenico Grasso, responded. Michigan’s campus Hillel also condemned Peterson’s speech. “Commencement is a celebration of every graduate. It is not a stage for political statements that alienate the Jewish community,” it asserted. On campus, however, an open letter rebuking Grasso and defending Peterson’s speech had been signed by more than 1,100 faculty members, staff and students in less than 24 hours.
Protesters at the university have also vandalized the home of Jordan Acker, a Jewish member of the university’s board of regents. He will no longer serve on the board, while the attorney who defended the university’s encampment participants from some state-level charges received the Michigan Democratic Party’s nomination for Acker’s seat.
Amir Makled won the backing despite social media posts that praised Hezbollah and included antisemitic memes. Makled posted retweets of far-right antisemitic conspiracy theorist Candace Owens and referred to Hassan Nasrallah as a martyr after he was killed by Israeli strikes in 2024.
Administrators at Rutgers University in New Jersey canceled a commencement speaker on May 15, citing an “inflammatory claim” he tweeted about Israel. Rami Elghandour, a Rutgers alumnus, had his invitation rescinded when his April 20 tweet, which accused Israel of genocide and claimed that Israelis were “running dungeons where they train dogs to sexually assault prisoners,” was uncovered.
“They decided that the feelings of a handful of students who said that my social media posts ‘opposed their beliefs,’ were more important than the experience of the entire graduating class, the reputation of the school, the dignity and belonging of Arab and Muslim students, and the First Amendment,” Elghandour wrote. Rutgers Alumnus Christopher Markus, an Emmy Award-winning screenwriter, delivered the address instead, on May 17.
At Georgetown University, a law professor who disparaged legal efforts to curb pro-Palestinian student activism replaced Morton Schapiro, a pro-Israel Jewish economist and former Northwestern University president, at the commencement, after students launched a petition calling for Schapiro’s removal. The replacement, David Cole, is the former national legal director of the American Civil Liberties Union. In that role, Cole issued a statement soon after the Hamas attack in which he criticized Jewish groups for what he said were calls to “investigate, disband, or penalize pro-Palestinian student groups for exercising their free speech rights.” He compared Congressional investigations on campus antisemitism to McCarthyism.
Cornell University’s Student Assembly on March 12 voted to cut ties with Israel’s Technion University and condemned the university for hosting center-left Israeli politician Tzipi Livni, part of the school’s campus anti-Israel activism. She was accused of being “implicated in war crimes.”
The university’s Jewish president was involved in a recent campus altercation with pro-Palestinian protesters who had surrounded his car following a campus debate on Israel. The Ivy League school’s Board of Trustees issued a statement of support for Michael Kotlikoff following an investigation into the April 30 incident. “President Kotlikoff has shown a steadfast commitment to Cornell’s values and principles, and we are confident he will continue to lead with integrity.”
Following the talk, members of the protest group Students for a Democratic Cornell followed the president to his car and appeared to try to block its path. When he did edge his way out of his parking spot, they said he bumped some of the protesters with his vehicle. Despite all that, President Kotlikoff was himself the speaker at the university’s May 23 commencement.
A flag with swastikas surrounding the Star of David flew briefly atop a New York University building during a graduation event May 13, as hundreds gathered for an outdoor celebration called “Grad Alley” on West Fourth Street. “We are shocked and deeply troubled that this hateful symbol expressing antisemitism was raised on a flagpole overlooking Washington Square Park,” said NYU spokesperson Wiley Norvell.
Student government leaders at the university had objected to the selection of Jonathan Haidt as the graduation speaker at Yankee Stadium May 14, calling it “deeply unsettling.” An NYU social psychologist and author, he has been highly critical of the culture in which many young adults today are raised.
A network of anti-Israel activist groups coordinated “Nakba 78” protests across the United States the weekend of May 15, with organizers using the anniversary of Israel’s founding to challenge the Jewish state’s right to exist. University of California campuses have faced an antisemitism crisis, with dramatic increases in harassment, intimidation, and exclusionary conduct targeting Jewish students and others labeled “Zionist” or “pro-Israel.” Among many events, University of California, Berkeley lecturer Hatem Bazian spoke at a three-day “Islam, Memory and the Nakba” conference in Burlingame, Oakland and Los Gatos.
Even the UCLA campus Hillel was targeted. The Undergraduate Students Association Council condemned an April 14 Yom HaShoah event organized by Hillel featuring freed Israeli hostage Omer Shem Tov. He was kidnapped from the Nova music festival on Oct. 7, 2023, and held hostage in Gaza until his release in a prisoner exchange in February 2025.
“While we affirm the humanity of all people impacted by violence, we reject the selective platforming of narratives that obscure the broader reality of ongoing state violence,” they stated. “Israel is currently continuing to carry out what has been widely identified by human rights advocates as a genocide in Gaza, while also expanding its illegal military campaign into Lebanon.”
This has become part of an effort to delegitimize Hillel chapters, long seen as the main address for Jewish life on most American campuses. Hillel International asks all its affiliate chapters to maintain an unwavering commitment and support for Israel, discouraging criticism of the Israeli state.
The New School, a university in New York City, on May 2 rejected a student government vote to defund and cut ties with the campus chapter of Hillel. The student senate a day earlier had voted to strip funding and stop collaboration with the campus chapter of the Jewish student organization, claiming violations of “international law” due to volunteer opportunities it has offered with the Israel Defence Forces. They also cited Hillel’s promotion of 10-day Birthright trips and other programs in Israel. Hillel International and other Jewish groups have said that efforts to shut down the Jewish student organization are antisemitic.
But it seems to be working. Swarthmore College in 2015 became the first campus to break with Hillel International. They began to call themselves an “Open Hillel,” then rebranded entirely after the parent organization threatened legal action over a civil rights panel it deemed too critical of Israel. Now, the student leaders of the campus Hillel at Middlebury College have voted to rename its student group, moving to distance it from an international organization they say is too pro-Israel. It was renamed the Jewish Association at Middlebury. Might others follow?
Henry Srebrnik is a professor emeritus of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
Tracking U.S. Immigration Statistics by Year: Shifts in Policy and Population Growth
Every number tells a story. Behind each datapoint on U.S. immigration lies a family that crossed a border, a student who arrived with a scholarship, or a worker chasing opportunity. Taken together, these stories form the demographic backbone of the country.
This article traces how immigration has shifted across time and into 2026. By focusing on statistics, we can see how policies, world events, and enforcement measures leave clear marks on US immigration. The aim is not just to report numbers, but to understand what they mean for America’s growth, its labor force, and its future.
Illegal Immigration Statistics USA 2026
Numbers on unauthorized immigration are never exact, but careful estimates reveal striking trends. This section draws from research led by Jennifer Lockman, a senior analyst affiliated with an essay writing service, EssayService, known for blending demographic data with policy context.
Lockman, who often collaborates with professional human essay writers online to translate complex data into accessible reports, describes her process as “writing an essay in numbers”: collecting surveys, interviewing migrants, and checking official counts against lived experience. Her 2026 research involved both government datasets and community-based surveys, making the results more credible.
She found that by 2023, the U.S. undocumented population had surged to 14 million, the largest in history. Roughly 27% of all immigrants in the U.S. lacked legal status at that point. But in early 2026, the trend reversed: deportations rose, border encounters fell, and the total unauthorized population declined for the first time in over a decade.
Lockman’s approach gave weight to personal accounts, such as Central American families waiting years for asylum rulings or Venezuelan migrants finding “twilight” legal status. These essay-style narratives backed the data: 6 million of the 14 million undocumented migrants in 2023 held temporary protections (asylum applicants, DACA, TPS holders), leaving them neither fully documented nor fully unauthorized.
Unauthorized Immigrant Population and Trends (2010–2026)
| Year | Estimated Unauthorized Population | Share of Total Immigrant Population | Notes |
| 2010 | 11.2 million | 24% | Plateau after 2007 surge |
| 2015 | 11.0 million | 23% | Stable, slight decline |
| 2020 | 10.3 million | 22% | Pandemic slowed inflows |
| 2022 | 12.8 million | 25% | Border arrivals surged |
| 2023 | 14.0 million | 27% | Record high |
| Jan 2026 | 13.9 million | 26% | Peak levels |
| Jun 2026 | 13.5 million | 26% | Decline after policy changes |
Key facts:
- Mexico remains the top origin, about 5.5 million people (40%).
- Central America accounts for ~20% (Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador).
- Venezuela has grown rapidly, adding ~500,000 recent arrivals.
- Roughly 4% of the entire U.S. population is unauthorized.
Lockman concludes that immigration enforcement in 2026 created “the first visible dip in the shadow population,” but warned that long-term structural issues remain unresolved.
U.S. Immigration by Year: A Historical Perspective
The US immigration tendencies show clear peaks and valleys tied to events. In the 1990s, the U.S. legalized millions under the Immigration Reform and Control Act, pushing green card totals to a historic 1.8 million in 1991. After that, flows stabilized at about 1 million new permanent residents annually, until the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020 cut arrivals by nearly half.
By FY 2023, recovery was in full swing, with 1.17 million new green cards issued. Adding temporary migrants, asylum seekers, and undocumented arrivals, the foreign-born population climbed to 53.3 million by January 2026, or 15.8% of the U.S. population. That was the highest share since records began.
Yet, for the first time in 50 years, the number dipped in the first half of 2026, down to 51.9 million (15.4%) by June. This decline underscores how quickly policy can reshape the chart, from expansion to contraction in just months.
The US immigration chart for the last three decades makes the shift visible:
| Year | Total Foreign-Born Population | Share of U.S. Population | Notable Context |
| 1990 | 19.8 million | 7.9% | Start of modern growth |
| 2000 | 31.1 million | 11% | Post-1990s inflows |
| 2010 | 40.0 million | 13% | Strong growth |
| 2020 | 45.0 million | 13.7% | Pandemic slows flows |
| 2023 | 47.8 million | 14.5% | Border surge |
| Jan 2026 | 53.3 million | 15.8% | All-time high |
| Jun 2026 | 51.9 million | 15.4% | First decline in 50+ years |
The picture is clear: immigration has been the sole driver of U.S. population growth in recent years, even as birth rates among the native-born decline.
How Many Immigrants Came to the U.S. in 2026?
By mid-2026, immigration flows had already shifted noticeably. According to US immigration statistics released by DHS and the Census Bureau, roughly 1.2 million immigrants entered the U.S. in the first half of 2026 through legal channels: green cards, work visas, student visas, and refugee admissions combined. That’s a slight drop compared to 2023 and 2024, when yearly admissions reached over 2 million.
When unauthorized migration is factored in, early 2026 arrivals added another estimated 250,000 to 300,000 people. This marked the smallest six-month increase in over a decade, reflecting tightened enforcement and economic slowdowns abroad.
Immigrant Admissions and Arrivals (2023–2026)
| Year | Legal Permanent Residents | Temporary/Work/Study | Refugees & Asylum Grants | Estimated Unauthorized Arrivals | Total |
| 2023 | 1.17 million | 1.1 million | 200,000 | 1.7 million | ~4.2 million |
| 2024 | 1.05 million | 950,000 | 180,000 | 1.5 million | ~3.7 million |
| 2026 (Jan–Jun) | 600,000 | 500,000 | 95,000 | 250,000 | ~1.45 million |
These figures reveal a paradox: even as the U.S. foreign-born population peaked in early 2026, inflows slowed soon after, signaling a turning point.
Facts About Immigrants: Beyond the Numbers
Every chart hides a set of lived experiences. Behind US immigration statistics are students, workers, and families reshaping communities. Here are some highlights:
- Top origins: Mexico (23%), India (6%), China (5%), Philippines (5%).
- Education levels: 47% of immigrants arriving since 2010 hold a bachelor’s degree or higher.
- Labor force impact: Immigrants represent 18% of the U.S. workforce as of 2026.
- Citizenship: Nearly 45% of the foreign-born are naturalized U.S. citizens.
- Households: Roughly 14% of U.S. households are headed by an immigrant, many of them multigenerational.
- Economic output: Immigrant-led businesses generate over $1.3 trillion in sales annually, fueling both local and national economies.
These numbers remind us that immigration is not just a border issue. It shapes schools, hospitals, and industries across every state.
Policy Shifts and Their Impact
Immigration ebbs and flows with the law. Every reform, executive order, or court ruling alters the trajectory of entries and the size of the foreign-born population.
Key policy-linked shifts:
- 1990s IRCA reforms legalized millions, creating the largest one-year spike in green cards.
- Post-9/11 tightened visa screening and slowed flows in the early 2000s.
- 2017–2020 restrictions cut refugee resettlement to historic lows (below 20,000 annually).
- 2021–2023 expansions raised ceilings again and offered protections to Venezuelans and Afghans.
- 2026 enforcement showed the first measurable decline in the total immigrant population in half a century.
Taken together, these shifts reveal a pendulum effect: expansion, contraction, and expansion again. Immigration policy has never been static, and each wave leaves long shadows in classrooms, in labor markets, and in family reunifications.
Conclusion: The Changing Shape of Immigration
Looking ahead, immigration will remain central to U.S. growth. With declining birth rates among native-born Americans, new arrivals sustain both population and workforce numbers. Whether immigration grows or contracts depends less on individual desire to migrate than on how U.S. policy balances enforcement and opportunity.
Immigration data is a mirror. It reflects national priorities, international crises, and the human drive to move. The question is not whether immigration shapes the U.S., but how the U.S. chooses to shape immigration.
Features
Brave American hero only US soldier to be included among Yad Vashem’s Righteous Among the Nations
By MYRON LOVE Courage is a rare quality. More than 80 years ago, Roddie Edmonds, a master sergeant in the American army, showed what courage looked like when the then-POW successfully stared down the barrel of a Nazi gun, thereby saving the lives of about 200 of his Jewish fellow POWS.
In 2013, Edmonds became the first American soldier to be inducted into Yad Vashem’s list of Righteous Among the Nations – a designation that recognizes non-Jews who risked their lives during World war II to shelter and save Jewish lives. Earlier this year, he was also awarded the Medal of Honour, America’s highest medal for bravery.
On Wednesday, May 6, Roddie’s son, Chris, was in Winnipeg to tell his father’s story. Speaking at the Truth and Life Worship Centre in St. Vital to an audience of Jewish community members and non-Jewish supporters, the younger Edmonds, a Christian pastor from Tennessee, related how his father – at the age of 14 – in Chris’s words, committed himself to Jesus.
In the brutal winter of 1944, Master Sargent Roddie Edmonds and his 106th infantry division were thrust into action for the first time, in the Ardennes Forest. They were unprepared for what was to come.
Five days after their posting, they were hit hard by an unexpected Nazi onslaught in what became known as the Battle of the Bulge, the last great battle of the war on the Western front. Edmonds’ unit was quickly overrun and he was one of as many as 9,000 GIs who were taken prisoner.
Chris Edmonds described the POWs’ dire situation in detail. They were forced to walk for four days in freezing cold, deep snow, and constant rain. They were then put into the Nazis’ notorious sealed box cars – standing room only – and subsequently divided among several POW camps.
Master Sgt. Edmonds found himself the ranking officer responsible for almost 1,300 POWS – among them about 200 Jewish American GIs. It was Nazi practice to separate the Jewish GIs from the others and ship them to concentration camps.
On January 7, the POWs’ first day in camp, the Nazi commandant ordered Edmonds to tell only the Jewish GIs to turn up for roll call the next morning. The night before, Edmonds spoke to all of his charges and they all agreed on a plan. The next morning, all of the GIs presented themselves – including the weak and the sick – all claiming to be Jewish.
The Nazi commandant – red in the face with anger – put a gun to the 22-year-old Edmond’s head and demanded that he identify the Jewish GIs. He refused. Instead, according to his son, Chris, Roddie calmly pointed out to the commandant that the war would soon be over, the Allies were going to win, and if the commandant were to harm any of the POWs, he might be prosecuted for war crimes after the war.
As Chris noted, the colour drained from the commandant’s face, he put the gun down, and returned to his office.
Liberation for the POWS came on May 5, 1945, with the arrival of a couple of American tank columns.
Chris attributed his father’s bravery to his deep faith and love of God.
“Dad used to say that fear of people makes you scared, but fear of God makes you brave.”
Now, as was the norm, returning soldiers, POWs and Holocaust survivors rarely spoke about their war time experiences – not even to their families. All Chris knew about his father’s war was that he was a POW.
Roddie Edmonds came home, married, had a family, was an outstanding dad – according to his son – and enjoyed a successful career in sales. He died in 1985 at the age of 66.
Chris Edmonds first learned about his father’s heroism in 2008 while reading an interview in the New York Times with Lester Tanner, a prominent New York-based attorney. During the course of the interview, Tanner – whose original name was Tannenbaum – mentioned the American master sergeant who had saved his life.
Chris Edmonds reached out to Tanner, who subsequently invited the Edmonds family to come to New York where the former GI arranged for the family to be lodged at the prestigious Harbor Club and generally gave them the royal treatment. Tanner also described what had happened in that POW camp.
Chris was inspired to learn all he could about his father’s war time experiences. Fortunately, his mother had kept all of his father’s effects. Among his father’s possessions, Chris found a detailed diary of his father’s time as a POW.
As a result of Chris Edmonds’ research, he wrote a book titled “No Surrender; A father, a Son and an extraordinary Act of Heroism That Continues to Live on Today” (with co-author Douglas Century). He also produced a documentary, “Footsteps of My Father,” which includes commentary by Tanner and some of the other Jewish POWs who were spared as a result of Roddie Edmonds’ bravery.
The documentary was part of Chris’s presentation at the Truth and Life Worship Centre.
Chris Edmonds has also founded an organization: “Roddie’s Code,” which is dedicated to “extending the leadership and legacy of his father to future generations.”
Edmonds was brought to Winnipeg by community leader Larry Vickar and Christian Zionist Pastor Rudy Fidel, both of whom heard Edmonds speak in Florida earlier this year. The presentation here was sponsored by B’nai Brith Canada’s Manitoba Jewish-Christian Roundtable.
While in Winnipeg, Edmonds was also able to present his inspiring story to close to 700 students at Gray Academy, St. Paul’s High School, and Vincent Massey Collegiate.
In closing, Chris Edmonds noted that his father’s actions in that POW cap didn’t just save the 200 Jewish POWs who were there, but also their future generations – numbering around 20,000, who would not have been alive today.
“My dad used to say that there are two main purposes in life,” Chris said. “