MIAMI — Nearly 350,000 Haitians lost Temporary Protected Status in July, ending a 16-year period in which many could legally live and work in the United States without facing deportation to a country battered by violence, instability, disease and poverty. The decision has created widespread fear in South Florida’s Haitian community, where residents and faith leaders say people are avoiding public spaces, businesses are closing and families are struggling with anxiety over possible immigration arrests. Herlain, a Haitian-born registered nurse in North Lauderdale, said she now rarely leaves home. She has instructed relatives to record encounters with federal immigration officers in case she is detained. She also recently refused to open her door to a salesman asking for water during a Florida heat wave. “You would think I was on the run,” Herlain said. “Who am I on the run from? This is crazy!” She asked that her last name not be used because of her immigration status. Temporary Protected Status, known as TPS, is granted by the federal government to nationals of countries deemed unsafe for return because of armed conflict, natural disasters or other extraordinary conditions. The designation does not provide permanent residency, but it allows eligible recipients to remain and work legally while the protection is in effect. The Department of Homeland Security defended the termination, saying TPS was intended to be temporary. In a statement, the agency said the program had been permitted to operate as a “de facto amnesty program” even though Congress did not intend it to become permanent. Haitian residents and advocates argue that the government is ending protection while conditions in Haiti remain dangerously unstable. Armed gangs control much of the capital and have expanded their reach. The United Nations recently reported that dozens of people, including women and children sheltering in a church, were massacred. At Notre Dame d’Haiti Catholic Church in Miami’s Little Haiti neighborhood, the Rev. Reginald Jean-Mary said parishioners are experiencing widespread depression and anxiety. He called the federal policy “psychological warfare” and said he knows of 14 members of the congregation who have been detained by immigration officers. The pressure has also reshaped church life. Attendance at the church’s adult learning school fell from 231 students at the start of the year to 17, Jean-Mary said. A food bank has opened inside the church as residents avoid going out to obtain groceries. The community has been shaken further by the death of Pierre Damas Bel, a 20-year-old Haitian man in Springfield, Ohio. He apparently died by suicide after losing TPS and being placed under an ankle monitor, according to the account presented by the church’s pastor. Little Haiti’s commercial corridor, normally crowded with shoppers and customers, has grown quiet. Residents say many stores keep their shutters closed after the administration publicized deportation flights involving Haitians. A restaurant lost most of its staff to immigration arrests, while a barbershop closed after its owner was detained. “Everybody is in hiding,” said Jan Mapou, owner of Libreri Mapou, a Haitian Creole bookstore and cultural gathering place. “Everybody is afraid, traumatized.” Some residents, however, are refusing to retreat. Farah Larrieux, a former television and radio broadcaster who came to the United States after criticizing corruption in Haiti, said she plans to continue speaking publicly against the treatment of Haitian immigrants. Larrieux said returning to Haiti would amount to a “death sentence” because of her political views. She also questioned the logic of deporting Haitians while the State Department warns U.S. citizens not to travel to Haiti because of the security threat. “People are focusing too much on the ‘temporary’ aspect of TPS,” she said. “They should focus on the protective aspect.” For many Haitian immigrants, the end of TPS has transformed ordinary activities — going to work, attending church or answering the door — into potential risks. Jean-Mary has urged parishioners to depend on one another as they navigate a period in which legal protections have disappeared but the dangers that prompted them remain.