Yaidel Álvarez crossed the southern border of the United States in a wheelchair. Upon arrival, the authorities provided him with an I-220A document, and he moved forward uncertain of surviving to the next day.
Four years later, he drives his own adapted car, works towards self-sufficiency, and inspires others with spinal cord injuries. His story was covered by journalist Javier Díaz in a report by Univision 23 Miami recorded in Ybor City, Tampa.
The origin of Álvarez's disability dates back to his childhood in Cuba. At the age of 12, he dove headfirst into a river and suffered a spinal cord injury that left him with no mobility from the waist down. The doctors told his mother that he would not survive.
"It was a vegetable from the neck down, I couldn't move anything at all," Yaidel recounted while recalling those early days after the accident.
El I-220A y los cambios en las políticas migratorias afectan a miles de cubanos en situaciones similares. Sigue toda la actualidad sobre para estar al tanto de tus derechos y opciones.
The recovery was slow and marked by depression. "My mom raised me twice, but she always stayed there, even when I was difficult," he acknowledged. It was his mother who held him up when he couldn't do it himself.
In the United States, he found a new purpose and is gradually making progress in his rehabilitation. A nonprofit organization donated a 2025 vehicle adapted to his condition, allowing him to move around the city independently.
The Cuban is emphatic that he does not want to rely on state assistance. "I just don’t want to be like someone who relies on others. I want to do things for myself, which is what I enjoy. I like to work, I like to learn, I like to do new things, and I want to support my community," he stated.
Under the name «Yaidel Ruedas Up» on social media, he documents his rehabilitation process. In the video corresponding to Day 268 of a personal challenge, he is seen walking with crutches and counting more than 260 consecutive steps.
Her philosophy is simple yet powerful: "One thing is that it is difficult, and another thing is that it is impossible. They are similar words, but they are not the same."
He also develops projects to support others with spinal cord injuries. However, like thousands of Cubans with I-220A, Yaidel lives under a constant shadow—the fear that ICE will one day deport him back to Cuba.
"I am afraid to go out. In Cuba, I have nothing left. And seeing all the good things I have achieved in these four years and with the life that lies ahead of me, I am afraid to go out," he confessed.
The I-220A does not equate to parole nor does it grant permanent immigration status. To apply for residency under the Cuban Adjustment Act, one must have been "inspected and admitted" or be in parole, a condition that holders of this document do not meet. It is estimated that between 400,000 and 500,000 Cubans are in this legal limbo across the country.
In the judicial arena, the class action Bello-Rubio v. Noem, filed by 992 Cubans in South Florida, seeks recognition from the courts that the I-220A is equivalent to parole. On September 10, federal judge Jacqueline Becerra rejected the government's motion to dismiss the case, allowing it to proceed, though the substance of the matter has yet to be resolved.
As justice deliberates, Yaidel continues counting steps. And every time someone tells him he can't, he takes it as fuel: "Out of so many 'no's that I have overcome, here I am today. It's a blessing every time someone says to me, 'you can't.' Because I think I have a new challenge."
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