From Ukraine war to a Michigan bakery, ‘newborn Americans’ face uncertainty under Trump

• More than 240,000 Ukrainians have come to the US since 2022, fleeing war in their home country
• In Midland, two Ukrainian families with restaurant experience bonded over bread, opening a bakery in January
• Their future status in the US remains uncertain as Trump administration considers major revisions to immigration policies

MIDLAND — Every time he rolls out a new batch of pastry dough, Sergey Pokanevych can sense what the quality of the final product will be: “good, so good, or excellent.” 

Whether it’s buttery croissants, loaves of fresh-baked sourdough, traditional Ukrainian cakes or delicate pastries, there’s “no bad option,” he says with a laugh. “We are not sorry.” 

At Chef Sergey’s Bakery in Midland, every gram counts — no teaspoons, tablespoons or cups in their kitchen — and the four co-owners take pride in operating a from-scratch bakery, sourcing high-quality ingredients to build the base for the hundreds of pastry creations going out each day.

In the café, Natalia Iakovleva can often be found demonstrating the process of brewing loose-leaf teas from all over the world or offering coffee samples to customers, urging them to try something new. 

Pressing a small cup of steaming hot coffee into one customer’s hand, Iakovleva says it’s on the house, “because we want you to get addicted.” 

To a casual observer, it wouldn’t be apparent that the co-owners of this bustling bakery had fled Ukraine with little more than the clothes on their backs less than three years ago, leaving behind successful businesses to keep their children safe after getting cleared by the federal government to live and work in Michigan.

And it might not be apparent they are now struggling to plan for the future as President Donald Trump reportedly considers sending migrants from Ukraine and other countries back to active conflict zones. 

While federal officials have not made any final decisions on whether to change the status of Ukrainians legally living in the US, draft internal documents obtained last month by the Washington Post suggest the administration has contemplated using foreign aid funds to send them back to the war-torn country.

More than 240,000 Ukrainians have taken refuge in the US since Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, thousands of whom reside in Michigan. 

Pokanevych, Iakovleva and their families rebuilt their lives in a new country, but without a direct path to permanent legal residence or citizenship in the US, the future remains uncertain.

They have no expertise or interest in politics. They are entrepreneurs who want safety and stability, and they fear a future where they’d have to return to Ukraine or move elsewhere and start from scratch again. 

“We are here. Where we’ll be in a few years … after (the) war, I can’t plan,” said Christina Pokanevych, Sergey’s wife. “I think we did a lot of work here, and I feel I am home now.” 

Starting from scratch

Before Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, Pokanevych and his wife Christina owned five restaurants in Odesa, a port city on the Black Sea that’s been a frequent target of Russian drone strikes. They had built a sizable social media following sharing recipes and cooking tips. 

Elsewhere in Ukraine, Iakovleva and her husband Maga Miiakiev owned a coffee shop and bakery.

Fearing for their safety, both couples and their children fled the country with what few possessions they could carry after securing sponsorships through the Biden-era Uniting for Ukraine program.

Thousands of Ukrainians have been approved to live and work in Michigan since 2022 under humanitarian parole programs that offer a temporary reprieve from war. The refugee resettlement agency Samaritas estimates at least 5,000 Ukrainian nationals live in southeast Michigan alone.

Most Ukrainians who arrived in the US prior to August 2023 have a Temporary Protected Status designation to live and work in the country, which in January was extended by the Biden administration to October 2026. 

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Trump told reporters in March he’d be “making the decision pretty soon” on whether to revoke that status and put the migrants on the fast-track to deportation, acknowledging Ukrainians have “gone through a lot.” 

The administration had closed new applications for programs benefiting Ukrainians and ordered the termination of programs benefiting migrants from other countries, including Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua and Venezuela. 

A federal judge recently blocked those actions, ordering government officials to resume processing migrant renewal applications and leave existing legal protections for humanitarian parolees in place.

Unlike other refugees, whose status grants them permanent legal residency and a direct pathway to US citizenship, people covered under humanitarian parole must re-register for the temporary status periodically, and the designation can be discontinued if conditions in the country of origin improve. 

Though parolees can pursue avenues for permanent residence if they’re eligible, such as employment sponsorship or a green card application, that process can take years to complete.

Kathy Gwizdala and her husband Paul, of Caro, picked up the Pokanevychs at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport on Sept. 23, 2022. At that time, she recalled them having three suitcases — and many hopes and dreams — to their name.

“They have so much ahead of them, and the sky's the limit,” said Gwizdala, who has Ukrainian heritage and opted to sponsor a family after her shock at the Russian invasion got her thinking about how her family could contribute. 

The two Ukrainian couples had never met before, but became fast friends and eventual business partners after settling down in mid-Michigan. Torn from their homes by war, the families found solace in their shared background and desire to rebuild.

“We kind of were saviors for each other,” Iakovleva said. “We didn’t know other people very well, no one spoke our language…so we were starving for our own small community.” 

Building a new life — and a bakery

After arriving in Michigan, the two couples began the process of acclimating to life in the US, including finding jobs, learning English and enrolling their kids in local schools. For a time, ambition took a back seat to re-education: “Everything was different,” Christina Pokanevych said.

But they craved the tastes of home, especially fresh-baked European bread. When they baked bread at home and shared it with American friends, Iakovleva said, “they were so surprised, so amazed.” The friends saw an opportunity.

Without credit history or US financial records, however, raising capital for a business was easier said than done. Unable to qualify for a bank loan, they turned to private investors for support, and in January 2024 were able to buy a building that once housed a popcorn shop. 

That kicked off a year of extensive renovations, including upgrading utilities, redesigning the space and outfitting the building with new baking equipment.  

One of their biggest backers was the Midland Area Community Foundation, which loaned the bakery a total of $400,000 in 2024. 

Sharon Mortensen, the foundation’s president and CEO, said the impact investments the organization gives typically fill the gaps in traditional financing. Chef Sergey’s situation was unique in that the business came together despite not having access to those traditional options, she said.

“It's very impressive, what they've done,” Mortensen said. “I think they're a great example of what we aspire to as a community.” 

When the business opened for the first time on Jan. 18, hundreds of customers poured in. They quickly had to adjust for more demand than they expected, increasing hours and hiring more staff. Chef Sergey’s now has 20 employees. 

Printed on a glass wall near the bakery’s front entrance are the names of every investor who helped make their dreams a reality. Iakovleva said the community support was a key part of their healing process.

“Coming from the war, it was not psychologically easy,” she said. “Now, the only goal is to return all of the love and care through bread, baked goods, coffee and tea.” 

What’s at stake

Entrepreneurship is a common career path among refugees and other immigrants to the US, said Steve Tobocman, executive director of the economic and community development organization Global Detroit.

That’s in part because there’s fewer barriers to employment when striking out on your own, such as language, an educational background that’s not recognized in the US or lack of local connections, Tobocman said, citing a study that found 21.7% of business owners in the US were immigrants as of 2019. 

“Immigration policy is economic policy,” Tobocman said. “If there's a desire in the state to have a thriving small business ecosystem that supports small business owners, then that small business ecosystem needs to be thinking about immigrant businesses.”

Tobocman and other immigration advocates fear the potential economic fallout for Michigan amid the administration’s downsizing of legal immigration options, such as the pause of new refugee admissions and possible visa revocations of foreign students. 

A March 2025 report from Global Detroit and Public Policy Associates estimated the refugee pause alone could cost Michigan between $324 million and $416 million in economic impact over the coming decade.

Trump and his allies have been critical of humanitarian parole and other opportunities for temporary legal status, arguing that the programs ran afoul of US immigration law and undermined the country’s border security. 

A Day One executive order issued by Trump ordered the administration to terminate all categorical parole programs “that are contrary to the policies of the United States,” specifically calling out programs benefiting 530,000 migrants nationwide from Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua and Venezuela. 

The administration has been less decisive on the future of Ukrainians in the US, many of whom don’t have safe homes to return to. Though the Trump administration has worked to negotiate a ceasefire, the Russian invasion of Ukraine continues, with drone and missile strikes killing or wounding dozens of people across several Ukrainian cities in recent days. 

On April 30, bipartisan legislation was introduced in Congress proposing a path to permanent residence for Ukrainians currently living in the US, but the bill hasn’t yet had a hearing.

Earlier in April, the Trump administration reportedly sent an unknown number of Ukrainians living in the US emails stating that their legal status was being terminated, later telling news outlets the messages were sent by mistake. 

“There's politics, and there are people, and that's two different things,” said Gwizdala, the Caro resident who sponsored the Pokanevych family. “When you make a commitment to someone, I think you uphold that commitment … You can stop continuing a program, but you don't retract a promise made.”

‘Newborn Americans’  

The spotless, stainless-steel kitchen at Chef Sergey’s feels far removed from global conflict. 

Day after day, Sergey Pokanevych and his kitchen crew spend hours rolling out dough, proofing pastries, piping freshly made fruit or custard fillings into croissants, plating sandwiches or testing out new ideas for recipes. 

They’re often dancing to techno music — or “anything that gets you moving” — as they take cues from the chef, who’s been working in kitchens in some capacity since he was 16.

Employees say Sergey Pokanevych’s creativity, ambition and unflappable positive attitude makes the kitchen a fun place to work. 

“I've never worked someplace where everybody's actually happy to be here,” said Kristin Hensel, the bakery’s kitchen lead who has worked at Chef Sergey’s since February. “If somebody starts to have a bad day here, everybody's trying to cheer that person up.”

The two families behind Chef Sergey’s would love to expand. They dream of opening additional locations and a full-service restaurant similar to what the Pokanevychs operated back in Ukraine, and have also considered wholesaling their baked goods to other businesses. 

They don’t want to get too far ahead of themselves, though, as they wait for more clarity on what the future holds. 

“We’re newborn Americans,” Iakovleva said, likening their situation to a child still living at home with their parents without much say over household decisions. “We want to have wings and make our own choices.”