Latest news with #Prop.187
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
Protesters gather at Santa Ana federal building: 'This is the healthiest thing to do'
In Santa Ana, about 120 protesters gathered outside a federal building near City Hall on Monday afternoon. Multiple raids had been conducted across Santa Ana that morning, including at Home Depots and restaurants and in industrial areas of the city. 'I feel enraged,' said Councilmember Jessie Lopez, standing with the crowd. 'If [U.S. Atty.] Bill Essayli cares about criminals, he should start at the White house.' Essayli last week sent a letter to Santa Ana, warning the sanctuary city about its proposal to pass a resolution that would require the Santa Ana Police Department to inform residents whenever they received a courtesy call from Immigration and Customs Enforcement alerting them about upcoming raids. Bethany Anderson was with a group of friends from Fullerton, where they had been receiving calls Monday. They were standing in front of a driveway that led to a small gated garage where unmarked white vans had been driving in and out all day. Read more: Bass enacts curfew for downtown L.A. to stem chaotic protests 'I knew they would bring people here' to the federal building, said Anderson, who is accredited by the Department of Justice as a legal representative. 'This is not a jail, so we have no idea about the quality of conditions inside, so that's very worrisome. Suddenly, she saw movement in the driveway and grabbed the bullhorn hanging from her shoulder. 'We see you!' Anderson shouted as protesters screamed, 'Shame!' and rushed to see what was going on. 'We see you, private security guards! You don't have to do this!' The Orange County Rapid Response Network posted addresses and photos of locations where ICE had conducted raids in Fountain Valley. The group's co-director, Casey Conway, said he was happy to see so many people show up in Santa Ana. 'But this isn't just today. This has been every day for three weeks. We're super overwhelmed right now.' The crowd held pro-immigrant and anti-Trump signs and waved Mexican flags. Someone passed around bottled waters and masks as a young woman chanted on a bullhorn, 'Move ICE, get out the way!' to artist Ludacris' song 'Move.' Federal police stood by the building's entrance, where some took photos of the crowd. When they went back inside, the crowd started chanting, '¡Quiere llorar!' — 'He wants to cry,' a common insult among Mexican soccer and rock fans. Alicia Rojas looked on from the edge of a sidewalk. The Colombian native had her amnesty application denied in the federal building as a child. 'This is all triggering,' said the 48-year-old artist. Now a U.S. citizen, Rojas grew up in Mission Viejo during the era of Prop. 187 and remembered all the racism against people like her at the time. Seeing so many young people out to protest made her 'hopeful, but I'm also worried. I've seen how the response has been to these peaceful protests. This administration has no capacity to be American.' She looked on. 'I feel rage inside, but this is the healthiest thing to do. More than anything. I'm here to look after the kids.' As the vans came in and out throughout the afternoon, activists at first blocked them but later backed down when federal agents shot pepper balls into the ground. Among those hit was Conway, who rushed to the side to have their reddened eyes washed out with water. Read more: L.A. City Council members spar with police chief over immigration protests 'I need someone to be on deescalation,' Conway gasped. The task fell to Tui Dashark. Dressed in neon green Doc Martens, an olive hat and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt, he led the crowd through chants including 'No firman nada' (Don't sign anything). 'Please stop throwing water bottles,' Dashark said at one point. 'They're just water bottles to us. But to them, it's assault with a deadly weapon.' The crowd calmed down. 'I'm proud of you guys for not escalating,' Dashark said. 'You're the f— real ones.' He turned to the gate driveway, where federal agents had quietly returned. 'You're so cool man,' Dashark said in a sarcastic voice as the crowd laughed. ' I wonder, what kind of person is up thinking, 'I want to lock up kids as a career?' As the day continued, the situation eventually evolved into the old children's game of Red Rover: Protesters would get too close and throw water bottles, federal agents would shoot pepper balls and eventually escalate to flash-bang grenades and tear gas. After a couple of hours, the crowd moved a couple of hundred feet to the east to Sasscer Park, named after a Santa Ana police officer killed in the 1960s by a member of the Black Panther Party. Local activists call it Black Panther Park. By 5 p.m., the protesters numbered at least 500. T-shirts emblazoned with logos of beloved Santa Ana Chicano institutions colored the scene: Suavecito. Gunthers. Funk Freaks. Santa Ana High. El Centro Cultural de México. People took turns on bullhorns to urge calm and to unite. But then another protester saw federal agents gathering at the federal building again. 'We gotta make them work overtime!' a young woman proclaimed on a bullhorn. 'They don't make enough money. let's go back!' The crowd rushed back to the federal building. Eventually, Santa Ana police officers arrived to create a line and declare an unlawful assembly. For the next four hours, the scene was akin to a party broken up occasionally by tear gas and less-than-lethal projectiles. Cars cruised on nearby streets blasting Rage against the Machine, sierreño music and the tunes of Panteón Rococó, a socialism-tinged Mexican ska group. Someone used AutoTune to shout profanities against the police, drawing giggles from the overwhelmingly Gen Z crowd. A Latina woman who gave her name only as Flor arrived with her teenage daughter. It was their first protest. Read more: ICE expands immigration raids into California's agricultural heartland 'We live in a MAGA-ass town and saw this on television,' Flor said. 'I grew up just down the street from here. No way can we let this happen here.' Nearby, Giovanni Lopez blew on a loud plastic horn. It was his first protest as well. 'I'm all for them deporting the criminals,' said the Santa Ana resident. He wore a white poncho bearing the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl. 'But that's not what they're doing. My wife is Honduran and she's not a citizen. She's scared to go to her work now even though she's legal. I told her not to be afraid.' The Santa Ana police slowly pushed the protesters out of Sasscer Park. Some, like Brayn Nestor, bore bloody welts from the rubber bullets that had hit them. 'Does someone have a cigarette?' he asked out loud in Spanish. The Mexico City native said he was there to 'support the raza, güey.' He was in obvious pain, but the trademarks arachidonic humor of his native city still bubbled through. 'It's chido [cool] that they hit me,' he proclaimed to anyone who would listen. 'Es perro, güey [it's cool, dog]. So the world knows what jerks those pigs are.' Sign up for Essential California for news, features and recommendations from the L.A. Times and beyond in your inbox six days a week. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
2 days ago
- Politics
- Los Angeles Times
Protesters gather at Santa Ana federal building: ‘This is the healthiest thing to do'
In Santa Ana, about 120 protesters gathered outside a federal building near City Hall on Monday afternoon. Multiple raids had been conducted across Santa Ana that morning, including at Home Depots and restaurants and in industrial areas of the city. 'I feel enraged,' said Councilmember Jessie Lopez, standing with the crowd. 'If [U.S. Atty.] Bill Essayli cares about criminals, he should start at the White house.' Essayli last week sent a letter to Santa Ana, warning the sanctuary city about its proposal to pass a resolution that would require the Santa Ana Police Department to inform residents whenever they received a courtesy call from Immigration and Customs Enforcement alerting them about upcoming raids. Bethany Anderson was with a group of friends from Fullerton, where they had been receiving calls Monday. They were standing in front of a driveway that led to a small gated garage where unmarked white vans had been driving in and out all day. 'I knew they would bring people here' to the federal building, said Anderson, who is accredited by the Department of Justice as a legal representative. 'This is not a jail, so we have no idea about the quality of conditions inside, so that's very worrisome. Suddenly, she saw movement in the driveway and grabbed the bullhorn hanging from her shoulder. 'We see you!' Anderson shouted as protesters screamed, 'Shame!' and rushed to see what was going on. 'We see you, private security guards! You don't have to do this!' The Orange County Rapid Response Network posted addresses and photos of locations where ICE had conducted raids in Fountain Valley. The group's co-director, Casey Conway, said he was happy to see so many people show up in Santa Ana. 'But this isn't just today. This has been every day for three weeks. We're super overwhelmed right now.' The crowd held pro-immigrant and anti-Trump signs and waved Mexican flags. Someone passed around bottled waters and masks as a young woman chanted on a bullhorn, 'Move ICE, get out the way!' to artist Ludacris' song 'Move.' Federal police stood by the building's entrance, where some took photos of the crowd. When they went back inside, the crowd started chanting, '¡Quiere llorar!' — 'He wants to cry,' a common insult among Mexican soccer and rock fans. Alicia Rojas looked on from the edge of a sidewalk. The Colombian native had her amnesty application denied in the federal building as a child. 'This is all triggering,' said the 48-year-old artist. Now a U.S. citizen, Rojas grew up in Mission Viejo during the era of Prop. 187 and remembered all the racism against people like her at the time. Seeing so many young people out to protest made her 'hopeful, but I'm also worried. I've seen how the response has been to these peaceful protests. This administration has no capacity to be American.' She looked on. 'I feel rage inside, but this is the healthiest thing to do. More than anything. I'm here to look after the kids.' As the vans came in and out throughout the afternoon, activists at first blocked them but later backed down when federal agents shot pepper balls into the ground. Among those hit was Conway, who rushed to the side to have their reddened eyes washed out with water. 'I need someone to be on deescalation,' Conway gasped. The task fell to Tui Dashark. Dressed in neon green Doc Martens, an olive hat and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt, he led the crowd through chants including 'No firman nada' (Don't sign anything). 'Please stop throwing water bottles,' Dashark said at one point. 'They're just water bottles to us. But to them, it's assault with a deadly weapon.' The crowd calmed down. 'I'm proud of you guys for not escalating,' Dashark said. 'You're the f— real ones.' He turned to the gate driveway, where federal agents had quietly returned. 'You're so cool man,' Dashark said in a sarcastic voice as the crowd laughed. ' I wonder, what kind of person is up thinking, 'I want to lock up kids as a career?' As the day continued, the situation eventually evolved into the old children's game of Red Rover: Protesters would get too close and throw water bottles, federal agents would shoot pepper balls and eventually escalate to flash-bang grenades and tear gas. After a couple of hours, the crowd moved a couple of hundred feet to the east to Sasscer Park, named after a Santa Ana police officer killed in the 1960s by a member of the Black Panther Party. Local activists call it Black Panther Park. By 5 p.m., the protesters numbered at least 500. T-shirts emblazoned with logos of beloved Santa Ana Chicano institutions colored the scene: Suavecito. Gunthers. Funk Freaks. Santa Ana High. El Centro Cultural de México. People took turns on bullhorns to urge calm and to unite. But then another protester saw federal agents gathering at the federal building again. 'We gotta make them work overtime!' a young woman proclaimed on a bullhorn. 'They don't make enough money. let's go back!' The crowd rushed back to the federal building. Eventually, Santa Ana police officers arrived to create a line and declare an unlawful assembly. For the next four hours, the scene was akin to a party broken up occasionally by tear gas and less-than-lethal projectiles. Cars cruised on nearby streets blasting Rage against the Machine, sierreño music and the tunes of Panteón Rococó, a socialism-tinged Mexican ska group. Someone used AutoTune to shout profanities against the police, drawing giggles from the overwhelmingly Gen Z crowd. A Latina woman who gave her name only as Flor arrived with her teenage daughter. It was their first protest. 'We live in a MAGA-ass town and saw this on television,' Flor said. 'I grew up just down the street from here. No way can we let this happen here.' Nearby, Giovanni Lopez blew on a loud plastic horn. It was his first protest as well. 'I'm all for them deporting the criminals,' said the Santa Ana resident. He wore a white poncho bearing the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl. 'But that's not what they're doing. My wife is Honduran and she's not a citizen. She's scared to go to her work now even though she's legal. I told her not to be afraid.' The Santa Ana police slowly pushed the protesters out of Sasscer Park. Some, like Brayn Nestor, bore bloody welts from the rubber bullets that had hit them. 'Does someone have a cigarette?' he asked out loud in Spanish. The Mexico City native said he was there to 'support the raza, güey.' He was in obvious pain, but the trademarks arachidonic humor of his native city still bubbled through. 'It's chido [cool] that they hit me,' he proclaimed to anyone who would listen. 'Es perro, güey [it's cool, dog]. So the world knows what jerks those pigs are.'
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
A message to Trump protesters in California: Put down the Mexican flags
As thousands of demonstrators take to the streets of Los Angeles protesting immigration enforcement operations, images of Mexican flags waving alongside burning cars and clashes with federal agents are once again dominating news coverage. While the passion and commitment of these protesters are undeniable, they are making a critical strategic error that could undermine their cause and harm the very communities they seek to protect. They are ignoring an important lesson from history on how prominently displaying this flag can backfire with the broader public. More than 30 years ago, Californians were facing intense economic insecurity as the state was crawling out of a recession amid a dramatic influx of immigrants, trends eerily similar to today. It led to a public backlash against immigration led by then-Gov. Pete Wilson. The political centerpiece of the movement in 1994 was Proposition 187. The measure called for denying public services to undocumented immigrants. Latino students and activists organized massive protests across the state. Like today's demonstrations, these protests featured prominent displays of Mexican flags. One demonstration at Los Angeles City Hall drew an estimated 70,000 protesters, one of the largest protests in city history. But it only served to inflame a distressed public. Proposition 187 passed decisively with 59% of the vote. Post-election analysis revealed that the Mexican flag imagery had become a powerful weapon in the hands of the measure's supporters. Harold Ezell, the former Immigration and Naturalization Service Director who helped author Prop. 187, later declared that the 'biggest mistake the opposition made was waving those green and white flags with the snake on it. They should have been waving the American flag.' Technically, opponents of the measure eventually would win. Courts ruled that Prop. 187 was unconstitutional. But the political damage for supporters of immigrants would extend far beyond that single election. Prop. 187's passage, aided by the visual narrative of foreign flags at protests, helped transform California politics for a generation—but not necessarily in the way protesters intended. While an entirely new generation of Latino political activism was stirred by the heated passion of that campaign, so too was an anti-immigrant fervor that consumed California politics for a generation. Rather than just building sympathy for immigrants and a show of ethnic solidarity when the community was under attack, the imagery reinforced opponents' framing of immigration as a question of national loyalty rather than human and constitutional rights. Today, protesters in Los Angeles risk repeating this strategic blunder. The Mexican flag being waved amid destruction, violent interaction with law enforcement, and burning vehicles allows opponents to shift the narrative away from legitimate concerns about immigration enforcement tactics and toward questions of patriotism, lawlessness, and national identity. It transforms what should be a debate about American constitutional rights and due process into a conversation about foreign loyalty and cultural assimilation. It highlights division and, at least optically, prioritizes foreign loyalty over American loyalty. This messaging problem is particularly acute given how Latino political attitudes have evolved since 1994. Research shows that today's Latino voters, especially younger generations, are increasingly assimilated and respond differently to ethnic appeals than their predecessors. Millennial and Generation Z Latinos are more motivated by intersectional movements that promote equality for all Americans rather than country-of-origin symbolism. For these assimilated voters, substantive policy discussions prove more influential than ethnic appeals tied to ancestral homelands. Pew Research Center shows that more than half of all Hispanics view themselves as 'typical Americans.' That number grows to 80 percent in younger Latinos. The Mexican flag imagery also alienates more than just Latinos. It also turns off potential allies who should be natural coalition partners. The 1994 protests should have included not just Latinos but also far more whites, Asian Americans, and African Americans who opposed Prop. 187 on civil rights grounds. In the end, Prop. 187 lost only among Latinos but was supported by white, Black, and Asian voters due, at least in some part, to the ethnic polarization Latino activists were imparting to rally their communities. Similarly, today's immigration enforcement concerns affect diverse communities across Los Angeles. But when protests are visually dominated by Mexican flags, these broader coalitions understandably feel excluded from what should be an American civil rights movement. Perhaps most damaging, the flag imagery provides opponents with exactly the ammunition they need to dismiss legitimate grievances. This is how immigration activists lose the message to Donald Trump. Using the flag of a foreign nation undermines the moral high ground of this position. Moreover, it cedes the American flag to the rising extremism we're witnessing on the American right. Latinos are Americans concerned about American issues like economic opportunity, public safety, and constitutional rights. Treating them as a monolithic bloc defined by ancestral nationality not only misreads their political priorities but also reinforces stereotypes that opponents can exploit. Put away the Mexican flags. Embrace American symbols and American values. Frame the debate in terms of constitutional rights and due process rather than ethnic identity. The stakes are too high, and the lessons of history too clear, to repeat the strategic errors that helped doom the fight against Prop. 187. American protesters fighting for American rights should carry American flags. Mike Madrid is a political analyst and a special correspondent for McClatchy Media.
