Donald Trump’s White House return brought with it revived mass deportation scares in all undocumented communities and migrants. Only within his initial 100 days of being in office again has there been a rise in immigration raids and visible, high-level arrests.
Those raids have thrown the lives of countless undocumented migrants such as California-based mother-of-five Rosalba Hernandez into disarray. She now stays home all the time and prepares every day for the worst — not from an earthquake, but because she does not want to be ripped away from her children in an ICE raid.
This surge in fear is a painful return to Trump-era enforcement practices. And community organizations, patrol units, and online notification have now become survival tools of necessity.
Migrants Living in Fear: Families on Edge Again
Rosalba Hernandez departed Mexico more than 20 years ago. She arrived in the US with her oldest daughter and later settled in Southern California. She had previously been detained — once in 2019 during a raid at her workplace — but she says nothing can compare to the present climate.
“You go to work, but you don’t know if you’ll come home,” she told us. Today, she goes out rarely and only if it’s a must. When she does, she looks out for unfamiliar cars, reads local text chains, and monitors social media for the slightest hint of ICE.
Surveillance and Strategy: Communities on Watch
Organizations such as Union del Barrio currently patrol cities like San Diego and Los Angeles. They rise before dawn and go looking for vehicles that resemble they are owned by ICE. Dark-tinted windows, Dodge pickups, and Ford SUVs are warning signs.
The patrols are led by Ron Gochez, a veteran teacher and activist. Fear, he says, has immobilized local communities. Students have quit going to school. Families even returned to countries such as El Salvador.
Disappearing Community Life
The effect transcends fear of being arrested. Migrant life in communities is disappearing. Pews are empty in churches. Cultural celebrations such as quinceañeras occur infrequently. Individuals feel observed, not safe, and silenced.
At the conclusion of each patrol, the group posts warning online. Families can learn which streets are safe — for the moment.
Still Standing: Migrants Speak Out
Despite the risks, Hernandez speaks up. She wants the country to know that undocumented migrants are not criminals. “We all come to work, and our work contributes to the economy,” she said. Her children — four of whom are US citizens — are her reason to stay.
“I’m not ashamed,” she adds. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
