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From Wildfires To ICE Raids, L.A. Latines Keep Fighting Back

From Wildfires To ICE Raids, L.A. Latines Keep Fighting Back

Refinery2910 hours ago

Just five months ago, Mexican firefighters were rushing to Los Angeles to keep the city from burning to the ground. Now, before there's even been time to process or heal from that trauma, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is targeting undocumented immigrants with brutal raids. Since Friday, June 6, the organization has violently seized 330 people. Immigrants are living in fear — of showing up at graduations, churches, grocery stores and their places of work. This fear, of course, isn't new, but it's currently being magnified in cruel ways. It feels like there is no safe space. To make matters worse, we're seeing this play out in real time with every video, every post, and every update with social media making it impossible to avoid. The cycle doesn't just happen once, it replays and retraumatizes us each time.
Colombian therapist Cristina Castrillón, LMFT, says these conditions can trigger and further traumatize immigrants — many of whom have already experienced the trauma of leaving their homelands and families behind. Castrillón also points out that immigrants, particularly people of color, are more prone to complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD), which studies have found can result from experiencing long-standing trauma.
'Then there's the social and economic adversity of being undocumented, being impacted by things like food scarcity,' Castrillón adds. 'There might also be more chances for higher substance abuse.' According to the therapist, there is no shortage of trauma for immigrants. 'This is especially true for folks who fled their homelands due to violence — like people from Central America.'
And now, it's happening all over again.
On that fateful Friday in June, entrepreneur, educator and immigrant rights organizer Sharet García witnessed one such ICE raid unfold in downtown Los Angeles' Piñata District, a neighborhood that's long been home to countless Latine immigrant-owned businesses over the years. She was shopping for decorations for her son's high school graduation party when she witnessed the raid take place.
'ICE had just trapped all the workers inside this fashion apparel company,' she tells Refinery29 Somos. 'I knew that we needed to record this. We couldn't stay quiet; I wanted the people to know.'
Even though she's undocumented herself, García — founder of UndocuProfessionals, which serves as a safe space for undocumented students and professionals — knew she had to stay at the scene. But, more importantly, it was clear she could not do it alone. She would need to rally her community.
'They lined up 30 to 40 people there,' she says, adding that some of the detained workers' daughters were present. The children reassured their parents that they were in this lucha together, and that they would never stop fighting for them. 'It was really hard to see that, but we wanted to make sure that we recorded everything. And that's when everything started happening.'
Slowly but surely, people showed up to protect the Piñata District workers. Ultimately, García says, it became difficult for ICE to detain people because the crowd was 'not allowing them to just easily leave.'
This solidarity isn't lost on the people of L.A., who are currently turning out in troves to protest the military occupancy in their sanctuary city. One Latine Angeleno, who requested to go only by the name of Crystal, has attended several protests in the city and can vouch they are not nearly as violent as certain media outlets portray.
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This fear holds a lot of people back from being in public, making it even more critical for documented citizens to stand up and fight back.
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To be clear, seeing these images — whether you are undocumented or not, whether you love someone who is undocumented or not — harms folks mentally and emotionally. And the cruel truth is: that's the point. '[Seeing violent footage] just further creates a narrative that makes us feel alienated,' says Castrillón. 'Think about what that does to someone's sense of self, worth, identity and belonging.'
In short, this dehumanizing treatment rips apart our self-esteem and sense of security to shreds. It can lead to higher rates of anxiety, depression and relational issues. Some people have even left the country in what's being called ' self-deportation,' because they no longer feel safe in the U.S. Other people are experiencing vicarious trauma when they see their loved ones in fear or hear them talking about their trauma, she adds.
But, as always, the community protesting these immoral ICE raids proves that they're not criminals; they're just trying to do what's right.
'There are people carrying and passing around water and snacks,' says Crystal, who also notes that some folks are acting as medics, carrying first-aid kits, masks, and goggles, and treating people who have been wounded by rubber bullets. 'I feel like that's what's not being credited, not being shown. It's a very different experience being there than watching it.'
A large percentage of immigrants and folks on the front lines are Latine. But make no mistake, these ICE raids are not just a Latine or 'raza' issue. While it's true, Latinos account for a majority of immigrant communities, we're not the only ones impacted.
According to a Pew Research Center analysis of U.S. Census Bureau data: 'A third of all Latinos in the United States — an estimated 21.4 million people — are immigrants.' That's roughly 45% of the nearly 50 million immigrants currently living in the U.S. The next largest group? Immigrants from Asian countries, who make up 28% of the U.S. immigrant population. This doesn't account for immigrants from African, Caribbean, Middle Eastern or European nations. And just for context: less than 10 miles from the Piñata District, in Mid-City, you'll find L.A.'s Little Ethiopia.
Each and every single immigrant is equally important in this struggle. Every immigrant's story matters. Every community is part of this fight.
Edwin Sotos, an immigrant rights and community organizer knows this firsthand. He says these are the people who have long been on the front lines, often undocumented themselves. But even those committed to the work are feeling the weight. Castrillón says, many in the movement may have experienced or are currently experiencing compassion fatigue.
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Despite attempts to erase or dehumanize immigrants, our communities continue to show up, for each other, for justice and for joy. That in itself is a powerful act.
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'People are really feeling burned out, fatigued, unable to continue, or needing moments to themselves to pull away from the work,' she says, adding that keeping up your 'self-care is necessary, because it is becoming so pervasive, there is no break — especially for people on the front lines.'
Sotos agrees, pointing out that people in the immigrants' rights movement have always felt a lot of feelings. 'For one, I feel very inspired to see how people are becoming very aware of how ICE has been treating our communities and how violent and terrorizing they are towards our community, and that the community is standing up against them and fighting back,' he says. 'I feel that if we had this type of awareness 10 to 15 years ago, a lot of our work and advocacy would be very different.'
Sotos also feels upset and concerned with how some influencers and content creators have responded. 'They either center themselves and erase immigrant voices or overlook and ignore the work that we have done as immigrants and documented people to get [to] where we are right now.'
Overall, though, Sotos attests this time is more intense. 'I'm definitely concerned at how different and how much more violent this round of ICE raids are in comparison to what we have seen in past years. I do think that these violent attacks from ICE, and the deployment of armed forces, are going to have a long-term effect on our community.'
'In our fight for immigrant rights, we have to include [folks from other countries], too,' Soto says. 'At some point, they are struggling with the same issues. Immigrants come [to the U.S.] from almost every country in the world, and from different races and different ethnicities, cultural and racial backgrounds.'
To that end, Sotos spotlights a few resources for undocumented people who may not identify as Latine:
The UndocuBlack Network: Black immigrants who organize communities and advocate for policy changes
National Korean American Service & Education Consortium (NAKASEC): Korean and Asian American immigrants fighting for social, economic, and racial justice
Asian Americans Advancing Justice Southern California: Civil rights advocates for the Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) community
Even so, it's irrefutable that the effect of these brutal raids are hitting L.A.'s Latine communities hard. On TikTok and Instagram, the fear is loud and visible with videos showing just how deeply these raids are shaking us. One viral clip shows an MSNBC reporter standing in an empty field — farmland usually tended by immigrant workers, now deserted due to ICE threats. Another video shows a KTLA anchor reporting on an ICE raid at a local elementary school.
People are scared. And the same conversations aren't just happening online, they're happening in person, over WhatsApp and on the phone. García says she has received an increased number of calls from undocumented individuals admitting they want to protest and show their support but are worried about their safety, especially being in close proximity to la migra.
'Some people are angry about what they're seeing, but there's definitely a lot of fear in the community,' says García. This fear holds a lot of people back from being in public, making it even more critical for documented citizens to stand up and fight back.
Doris Anahí Muñoz, an artist and activist who previously endured family separation at the hands of ICE, says there are several things she wished she knew during one of the darkest moments of her life.
'The hardest part of a path to citizenship is how costly it is,' says Muñoz. 'I wish I had known about these kinds of organizations back then. For people like my parents, they didn't even know support like this existed.'
Thankfully, community support is growing, as a result there are more resources available including free legal services across L.A., offering help to undocumented folks in need. Some of these organizations include:
The Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights (CHIRLA): Diverse immigrant families and individuals whose mission is to achieve a just society fully inclusive of immigrants
UCLA Civil Rights Project: Legal services networks, nonprofits and private practice attorneys who can assist undocumented residents needing legal assistance
Chicas y Cafecito Community Resources Los Angeles: A round-up of helpful phone numbers and legal services for immigrants
At the end of the day, mental health experts and community organizers also acknowledge and agree: this work is heavy and it is important for the people in this fight to take care of themselves and each other. One of the best and most important ways to do just that is to find moments of joy.
'Our true community efforts are the most important in this. We really need each other right now to keep this movement going,' says Muñoz. Naturally, people are doing this — dancing in the street, hyping each other up and chanting like the ancestors are watching.
Sotos admits, it can be difficult for organizers and community advocates to center their own emotions and well-being since their primary focus is fighting injustice. 'But I will say that I have been sleeping and resting more because I've been very tired. Also, being in community spaces and connecting and checking in on my friends and my family has been very helpful,' he says.
'We're validating each other, sharing that we are there together and that we're going to defend and protect the community. But we're also going to be there to connect, uplift each other and hear each other out.'
Castrillón encourages folks to have self-care practices on their own time, too. 'Some people cannot step away from it like other folks can. Not everyone gets the privilege,' she says. But even if you only have five minutes, try to use those to check in with your body. Ask yourself: 'Did I eat well today? Am I nourishing myself? Am I sleeping enough and getting enough rest? Am I getting support?'' she suggests. 'Cry, be held, be seen. Go to therapy, support groups or healing circles.' These are all warm and necessary reminders that we are not alone.
Sotos echoes this truth. 'I feel sometimes we are so into wanting to protect our community and advocate, and we feel like we need to be strong,' he says. 'But sometimes, we just need someone to listen to us…especially in the work that we do.'
Despite attempts to erase or dehumanize immigrants, our communities continue to show up, for each other, for justice and for joy. That in itself is a powerful act. As Sotos puts it: 'Being openly undocumented is my most powerful tool at this point. My mere existence as an undocumented person is my most powerful resistance.'
Resources for undocumented people who may not identify as Latine
The UndocuBlack Network: Black immigrants who organize communities and advocate for policy changes
National Korean American Service & Education Consortium (NAKASEC): Korean and Asian American immigrants fighting for social, economic, and racial justice
Asian Americans Advancing Justice Southern California: Civil rights advocates for the Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) community
Self-care tips from mental health professionals
Check in with yourself to make sure you're eating, hydrating, resting and taking care of your body
Talk to friends and family to avoid the isolation that results from living and reliving trauma in person and on social media
Try to take breaks from the work to find moments of joy with the people you love
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County leaders mostly silent after arrest of woman objecting to ICE deal in Miami-Dade
County leaders mostly silent after arrest of woman objecting to ICE deal in Miami-Dade

Miami Herald

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County leaders mostly silent after arrest of woman objecting to ICE deal in Miami-Dade

A day after a 36-year-old real estate agent was dragged out of the Miami-Dade County Commission chambers by plain-clothed officers during a public meeting, the elected officials who watched it happen are mostly keeping mum on what they saw. The Miami Herald requested statements from the county's 13 commissioners and Mayor Daniella Levine Cava, who until January oversaw a county police force that's now under the control of an elected sheriff. No commissioner offices provided statements. Levine Cava did, but the message did not directly address the police response that landed Camila Ramos in jail overnight on felony charges after a brief and tense exchange with the sheriff's deputies that serve as plain-clothed sergeants-at-arms during commission meetings. 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What we know so far about how Trump's deportation effort is unfolding in the Bay Area
What we know so far about how Trump's deportation effort is unfolding in the Bay Area

San Francisco Chronicle​

time3 hours ago

  • San Francisco Chronicle​

What we know so far about how Trump's deportation effort is unfolding in the Bay Area

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Bay Area day laborers say they live in fear of ICE raids: ‘We just come here to find work'
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San Francisco Chronicle​

time3 hours ago

  • San Francisco Chronicle​

Bay Area day laborers say they live in fear of ICE raids: ‘We just come here to find work'

On the edge of the parking lot of a Home Depot in Alameda County this past week, a woman sold a warm cup of atole, a traditional masa-based drink from Mexico, to a man and his son. She had just returned to her post after a week of hiding at home with her 12-year-old son after hearing rumors of an ICE raid nearby. 'I would rather lose a day of work than risk something happening to me,' said the woman, who declined to share her name due to fear of immigration authorities. However, she said she could not afford to stay home any longer. Across from her small stand were nearly a dozen men grappling with the same dilemma — day laborers who are hired for all manner of jobs by customers looking for skilled help at a low price, but who are now fearful that the public way they solicit work might make them targets of President Donald Trump's mass deportation effort. 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Roberto Hernandez, the CEO of Cultura y Arte Nativa de las Americas, a nonprofit organization in San Francisco that promotes indigenous cultures and healing practices, said arresting day laborers is 'part of Trump's racist targeting of Latinos in this country' and goes against the president's rhetoric about focusing enforcement on criminals. 'A criminal is not going to be at Home Depot looking for work for the pay that a day laborer makes,' Hernandez said. In interviews, many immigrants who rely on day labor work — typically construction, painting, roofing and gardening — said they had no choice but to risk their safety to put food on the table. 'It's not fair,' said a Guatemalan man at the Alameda County Home Depot, who recounted arriving alone to the U.S. five years ago. ICE officials did not return a request for comment for this story. Home Depot said in a statement that the company is not informed of ICE enforcement. 'We aren't notified that ICE activities are going to happen, and in many cases, we don't know that arrests have taken place until after they're over,' the company said. ICE data shows that arrests in Northern California have increased roughly 70% this year, compared to the final six months of the Biden administration. While arrests of convicted criminals grew, arrests of people who were suspected only of immigration-related violations, or had pending charges, went up much faster. The Trump administration has said it intends to reach arrest quotas of 3,000 people per day. To achieve those goals, ICE has begun targeting immigrants who have been vetted and given a legal status to stay in the country, versus focusing on only those with criminal histories. It's not clear how many day laborers toil in California. A 2007 report by the California Economic Policy Center found there were at least 40,000, and that 80% were undocumented. Studies have shown that they are frequently exploited, with poor working conditions and stolen pay. These problems and others have prompted the creation of day labor centers run by nonprofit organizations in San Francisco, Oakland and elsewhere in the Bay Area, which work to protect day laborers, while helping them secure consistent jobs and wages. Though day laborers typically wait in parking lots until potential employers drive up offering work, San Francisco has a day labor center where people can make hires through a more formal process. Hernandez said he lives about a block away from an informal gathering spot for day laborers in the city's Mission District. In recent days, he said, he has rarely seen the usual throng of people waiting for work. Meanwhile, he's seen an uptick of people coming to the Mission Food Hub, a food bank. 'What I've consistently been hearing from a lot of them is that they don't want to be out on the street because of the fear of ICE, which then impacts your ability to pay your rent, put food on your table,' Hernandez said. 'That feeling scared, feeling depressed, feeling fearful — it's at an all-time high.' The mood in Oakland is similar, Galicia said her organization, which recently lost $400,000 in funding from the city due to budget woes, regularly checks on day laborers who gather at six locations. 'There is a lot of fear and panic even just seeing cars passing by that may look suspicious,' Galicia said. 'Whenever there are reports of ICE in the community, we see a decrease in the day laborer community.' On a recent day outside a Home Depot in Oakland's Fruitvale neighborhood, laborers said they hadn't seen any federal immigration officers. Some expressed concern that could change, but felt resigned. A day later, rumors circulated that federal agents had shown up at the store, but Galicia said that dispatchers from Alameda County's rapid response network, which responds to ICE operations, had not verified those sightings. And so the rhythm of the workers' lives continued. One man in Fruitvale, who also declined to share his name due to fear of being deported, said he used his earnings to support his wife and their two children, a 2-year-old and a 3-month-old. The couple, he said, left their home in Huehuetenango, Guatemala, five years ago seeking to escape poverty and crime. They crossed the border by foot, a journey of several days through the Sonoran desert. Now, he splits his time between different spots outside Home Depots — wherever he can land the best jobs. 'If they come, what can we do? There's nothing we can do,' he said. 'We just come here to find work.'

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