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Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families
Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families

Miami Herald

time30-07-2025

  • General
  • Miami Herald

Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families

For the last 16 years, Isabel has worked harvesting carrots, lemons and grapes in the Coachella Valley. The undocumented mother of three - who, like others The Times spoke with, declined to give her last name out of fear for her family's safety - says the heat in recent summers has been increasingly difficult to manage. And now, with fewer workers showing up due to fears of ongoing immigration enforcement raids across California, Isabel says she and those who remain have to endure fewer breaks and more physical strain. Crews that once numbered five groups of 18 workers each are down to three groups of 18. The demands, however, haven't changed. "You have to pack so many boxes in a day," Isabel said in Spanish. "If it takes you a while to get water, you'll neglect the boxes you're packing. You have to put in more effort." California's outdoor heat standard- which applies to all workers, legal or undocumented - guarantees breaks for shade and water. But the fear of falling behind often discourages workers from taking advantage, labor advocates say. And with fewer workers in the fields, employers have begun asking those who do show up to stay later into the day; some who used to be home by 1 p.m. are now in the fields during the hottest parts of the afternoon, they say. Isabel described a recent incident of a woman on her crew who appeared to be suffering from heatstroke. The supervisors did help her, "but it took them a while to call 911," Isabel said. Sandra Reyes, a program manager at TODEC Legal Center, which works with immigrants and their families in the Inland Empire and Coachella Valley, said she has seen the same pattern unfold across California's agricultural communities. Fewer workers means greater physical strain for those who remain. And in the fields, that strain compounds rapidly under high heat. "There are times when the body just gives out," Reyes said. "All of this is derived from fear." :::: Across Southern California, from fields to homes, parks to markets, the fear of immigration enforcement is making it harder for individuals and families to stay safe as temperatures rise. Early on June 18 in the eastern Coachella Valley, word spread among the agricultural workers that unmarked cars and SUVS - and, later on, helicopters and convoys of military vehicles - that they rightly guessed carried federal agents were converging on the fields. Anticipating a raid by Customs and Border Protection or Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the reaction was immediate. Workers - many undocumented - fled, some going into the fields, hiding beneath grapevines or climbing up date palm trees. Local organizers began to get calls from frightened workers and their families. Making matters worse was the heat. Inland Congregations United for Change, a nonprofit community organization in San Bernardino, sent out teams with water and ice. They found a number of people who had been in the blazing sun for hours, afraid to return home. Some had run out of water as temperatures soared to 113 degrees, eating grapes off the vine in an attempt to stay hydrated. "There [were] people who are elderly, who need medication," said J. Reyes Lopez, who works with the organization. Officials later confirmed that the multiple-agency operation led by the Drug Enforcement Administration had detained 70 to 75 undocumented individuals - part of the Trump administration's immigration enforcement effort. In the days that followed, there were lasting impacts in the fields. "Many [workers] have not returned to work, especially those with small children," said TODEC's Reyes. And for those who did return, it soon became clear that they were expected to do the same amount of work, only now with fewer people. The summer of 2024 saw record-breaking heat in Southern California, and experts predict 2025 will be just as bad, if not worse. These rising temperatures - largely due to climate change - have serious effects on the health of workers and their families, said Arturo Vargas Bustamante, a UCLA professor of health policy and management. Exposure to extreme heat can trigger or exacerbate a raft of health issues such as cramps, strokes and cardiovascular and kidney disease, as well as mental health issues. :::: It's not just agricultural workers who are affected. Car wash employees often are exposed to direct heat without regular access to water or breaks, said Flor Rodriguez, executive director of the CLEAN Carwash Worker Center. Because that industry has become a target for enforcement operations, car wash owners have had to hire staff to replace workers who have been apprehended or who no longer come in because they fear they could be next. That often means hiring younger or less experienced people who are unfamiliar with workplace conditions and protections. "The most dangerous day for you at work is your first day," said Sheheryar Kaoosji, executive director of the Warehouse Worker Resource Center. Even when workers feel physically unsafe, Kaoosji said, they may fail to speak up, due to fears about job security. When that happens, he said, "preventative tactics like breaks, cooling down, drinking water, don't happen." Itzel - a recipient of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals policy whose family lives in Long Beach - has seen the same patterns among her co-workers in the landscaping industry. "They wanna get to the job site early and they want to leave as early as they can," she said. "They're not taking their breaks. … They're not taking their lunches." When they do, it's often for 30 minutes or less, with many choosing to eat behind closed gates rather than under the shade of a tree if it means they can remain better hidden. Overexertion under peak heat, noted Javier Hernandez, executive director of the Inland Coalition for Immigrant Justice, is becoming a survival strategy - a way to reduce exposure to ICE, even at the cost of physical health. Heat, unlike more visible workplace hazards, often goes unreported and unrecognized, especially in industries where workers are temporary, undocumented or unfamiliar with their rights. "There's a huge undercount of the number of people who are impacted by heat," Kaoosji said. "Heat is really complicated." And with ICE presence now reported at clinics and hospitals, access to medical care has been compromised. "It's just another way for people - these communities - to be terrorized," Kaoosji said. In the Inland Empire, where summer temperatures regularly climb into the triple digits, Hernandez said many families are now making impossible choices: Do they turn on the air conditioning or buy groceries? Do they stay inside and risk heat exhaustion, or go outside and risk being taken? These questions have reshaped Isabel's life. She now goes to work only a few days a week, when she feels safe enough to leave her children. That means there's not enough money to cover the bills. Isabel and her family now spend most of the day confined to a single room in their mobile home, the only one with air conditioning. Their electricity bill has rocketed from $80 to $250 a month. So far, her family has been able to make partial payments to the utility, but she fears what will happen if their electricity gets cut off, as has happened to some of her neighbors. Before the raids, Isabel's family would cool off at a nearby stream, go to air-conditioned shops or grab a raspado, or shaved ice. But in the face of heightened enforcement, these sorts of routines have largely been abandoned. "Those are very simple things," Hernandez said, "but they are very meaningful to families." Fear also makes it difficult to spend time at public cooling centers, libraries or other public buildings that in theory could offer an escape from the heat. Isabel's youngest child isn't used to staying quiet for long periods, and she worries they'll draw attention in unfamiliar public spaces. "I do my best to keep them cool," Isabel said, explaining that she now resorts to bathing her children regularly as one cooling strategy. Itzel's father, who is undocumented, hasn't left his apartment in over a month out of fear of immigration enforcement actions. He used to make up to $6,000 a month as a trucker - now, he can't afford to turn on his air conditioning. Where once there were weekend walks, family barbecues, trips to the park or the beach to cool down, now there is isolation. "We're basically in a cell," Itzel said. "This is worse than COVID. At least with COVID, we could walk around the block." The same has been true for Mirtha, a naturalized citizen who lives in Maywood with her husband, whose immigration status is uncertain, and their five U.S.-born children. In previous summers, her family - which includes four special needs children - relied on public spaces, such as parks, splash pads, shopping centers and community centers to cool down. Now her family spends most of the time isolated and indoors. Even critical errands such as picking up medications or groceries have shifted to nighttime hours for safety reasons. Meanwhile, her husband, a cook, stopped working altogether in early June due to fear of deportation. Even turning on their one small air conditioner has become a financial decision. Constant fear, confinement and oppressive heat has worsened her children's mental and physical well-being, she said. Staying indoors has also led to serious health challenges for Mirtha herself, who suffers from high blood pressure and other medical conditions. On a particularly hot day on June 21, Mirtha got so sick she ended up in the hospital. "My high blood pressure got too high. I started having tachycardia," she said. Despite Mirtha's citizenship status, she hesitated to call emergency services, and instead had her husband drive her and drop her off at the emergency room entrance. :::: Summer temperatures continue to rise and enforcement operations keep expanding. "We're only seeing the beginning," said Mar Velez, policy director at the Latino Coalition for a Healthy California. "People are suffering silently." Jason De León, a UCLA professor of anthropology and Chicana/o and Central American studies, warns that deportations taking place in the summer will also probably force many to reattempt border crossings under the most dangerous conditions of the year. "We're not only putting people in harm's way in the United States," he said, "but then by deporting them in the summer … those folks are going to now be running this kind of deadly gantlet through the desert again. They are going to attempt to come back to the only life that many folks have, the only life they've ever known." Isabel insists they're here for one thing: to work. "We came here just to work, we want to be allowed to work," she said. "Not to feel like we do now, just going out and hiding." More than anything, "we want to be again like we were before - free." Copyright (C) 2025, Tribune Content Agency, LLC. Portions copyrighted by the respective providers.

Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families
Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families

Yahoo

time25-07-2025

  • Yahoo

Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families

For the last 16 years, Isabel has worked harvesting carrots, lemons and grapes in the Coachella Valley. The undocumented mother of three — who, like others The Times spoke with, declined to give her last name out of fear for her family's safety — says the heat in recent summers has been increasingly difficult to manage. And now, with fewer workers showing up due to fears of ongoing immigration enforcement raids across California, Isabel says she and those who remain have to endure fewer breaks and more physical strain. Crews that once numbered five groups of 18 workers each are down to three groups of 18. The demands, however, haven't changed. 'You have to pack so many boxes in a day,' Isabel said in Spanish. 'If it takes you a while to get water, you'll neglect the boxes you're packing. You have to put in more effort." California's outdoor heat standard — which applies to all workers, legal or undocumented — guarantees breaks for shade and water. But the fear of falling behind often discourages workers from taking advantage, labor advocates say. And with fewer workers in the fields, employers have begun asking those who do show up to stay later into the day; some who used to be home by 1 p.m. are now in the fields during the hottest parts of the afternoon, they say. Isabel described a recent incident of a woman on her crew who appeared to be suffering from heatstroke. The supervisors did help her, "but it took them a while to call 911,' Isabel said. Sandra Reyes, a program manager at TODEC Legal Center, which works with immigrants and their families in the Inland Empire and Coachella Valley, said she has seen the same pattern unfold across California's agricultural communities. Fewer workers means greater physical strain for those who remain. And in the fields, that strain compounds rapidly under high heat. 'There are times when the body just gives out,' Reyes said. 'All of this is derived from fear.' Across Southern California, from fields to homes, parks to markets, the fear of immigration enforcement is making it harder for individuals and families to stay safe as temperatures rise. Early on June 18 in the eastern Coachella Valley, word spread among the agricultural workers that unmarked cars and SUVS — and, later on, helicopters and convoys of military vehicles — that they rightly guessed carried federal agents were converging on the fields. Anticipating a raid by Customs and Border Protection or Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the reaction was immediate. Workers — many undocumented — fled, some going into the fields, hiding beneath grapevines or climbing up date palm trees. Local organizers began to get calls from frightened workers and their families. Making matters worse was the heat. Inland Congregations United for Change, a nonprofit community organization in San Bernardino, sent out teams with water and ice. They found a number of people who had been in the blazing sun for hours, afraid to return home. Some had run out of water as temperatures soared to 113 degrees, eating grapes off the vine in an attempt to stay hydrated. 'There [were] people who are elderly, who need medication,' said J. Reyes Lopez, who works with the organization. Officials later confirmed that the multiple-agency operation led by the Drug Enforcement Administration had detained 70 to 75 undocumented individuals — part of the Trump administration's immigration enforcement effort. Read more: National Guard came to L.A. to fight unrest. Troops ended up fighting boredom In the days that followed, there were lasting impacts in the fields. 'Many [workers] have not returned to work, especially those with small children,' said TODEC's Reyes. And for those who did return, it soon became clear that they were expected to do the same amount of work, only now with fewer people. The summer of 2024 saw record-breaking heat in Southern California, and experts predict 2025 will be just as bad, if not worse. These rising temperatures — largely due to climate change — have serious effects on the health of workers and their families, said Arturo Vargas Bustamante, a UCLA professor of health policy and management. Exposure to extreme heat can trigger or exacerbate a raft of health issues such as cramps, strokes and cardiovascular and kidney disease, as well as mental health issues. It's not just agricultural workers who are affected. Car wash employees often are exposed to direct heat without regular access to water or breaks, said Flor Rodriguez, executive director of the CLEAN Carwash Worker Center. Because that industry has become a target for enforcement operations, car wash owners have had to hire staff to replace workers who have been apprehended or who no longer come in because they fear they could be next. That often means hiring younger or less experienced people who are unfamiliar with workplace conditions and protections. "The most dangerous day for you at work is your first day," said Sheheryar Kaoosji, executive director of the Warehouse Worker Resource Center. Even when workers feel physically unsafe, Kaoosji said, they may fail to speak up, due to fears about job security. When that happens, he said, 'preventative tactics like breaks, cooling down, drinking water, don't happen." Itzel — a recipient of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals policy whose family lives in Long Beach — has seen the same patterns among her co-workers in the landscaping industry. 'They wanna get to the job site early and they want to leave as early as they can,' she said. 'They're not taking their breaks. … They're not taking their lunches.' When they do, it's often for 30 minutes or less, with many choosing to eat behind closed gates rather than under the shade of a tree if it means they can remain better hidden. Overexertion under peak heat, noted Javier Hernandez, executive director of the Inland Coalition for Immigrant Justice, is becoming a survival strategy — a way to reduce exposure to ICE, even at the cost of physical health. Heat, unlike more visible workplace hazards, often goes unreported and unrecognized, especially in industries where workers are temporary, undocumented or unfamiliar with their rights. 'There's a huge undercount of the number of people who are impacted by heat,' Kaoosji said. 'Heat is really complicated.' Read more: The L.A. Times investigation into extreme heat's deadly toll And with ICE presence now reported at clinics and hospitals, access to medical care has been compromised. 'It's just another way for people — these communities — to be terrorized,' Kaoosji said. In the Inland Empire, where summer temperatures regularly climb into the triple digits, Hernandez said many families are now making impossible choices: Do they turn on the air conditioning or buy groceries? Do they stay inside and risk heat exhaustion, or go outside and risk being taken? These questions have reshaped Isabel's life. She now goes to work only a few days a week, when she feels safe enough to leave her children. That means there's not enough money to cover the bills. Isabel and her family now spend most of the day confined to a single room in their mobile home, the only one with air conditioning. Their electricity bill has rocketed from $80 to $250 a month. So far, her family has been able to make partial payments to the utility, but she fears what will happen if their electricity gets cut off, as has happened to some of her neighbors. Before the raids, Isabel's family would cool off at a nearby stream, go to air-conditioned shops or grab a raspado, or shaved ice. But in the face of heightened enforcement, these sorts of routines have largely been abandoned. 'Those are very simple things,' Hernandez said, 'but they are very meaningful to families.' Fear also makes it difficult to spend time at public cooling centers, libraries or other public buildings that in theory could offer an escape from the heat. Isabel's youngest child isn't used to staying quiet for long periods, and she worries they'll draw attention in unfamiliar public spaces. 'I do my best to keep them cool,' Isabel said, explaining that she now resorts to bathing her children regularly as one cooling strategy. Itzel's father, who is undocumented, hasn't left his apartment in over a month out of fear of immigration enforcement actions. He used to make up to $6,000 a month as a trucker — now, he can't afford to turn on his air conditioning. Where once there were weekend walks, family barbecues, trips to the park or the beach to cool down, now there is isolation. 'We're basically in a cell," Itzel said. "This is worse than COVID. At least with COVID, we could walk around the block.' The same has been true for Mirtha, a naturalized citizen who lives in Maywood with her husband, whose immigration status is uncertain, and their five U.S.-born children. In previous summers, her family — which includes four special needs children — relied on public spaces, such as parks, splash pads, shopping centers and community centers to cool down. Now her family spends most of the time isolated and indoors. Even critical errands such as picking up medications or groceries have shifted to nighttime hours for safety reasons. Meanwhile, her husband, a cook, stopped working altogether in early June due to fear of deportation. Even turning on their one small air conditioner has become a financial decision. Constant fear, confinement and oppressive heat has worsened her children's mental and physical well-being, she said. Staying indoors has also led to serious health challenges for Mirtha herself, who suffers from high blood pressure and other medical conditions. On a particularly hot day on June 21, Mirtha got so sick she ended up in the hospital. 'My high blood pressure got too high. I started having tachycardia,' she said. Despite Mirtha's citizenship status, she hesitated to call emergency services, and instead had her husband drive her and drop her off at the emergency room entrance. Summer temperatures continue to rise and enforcement operations keep expanding. 'We're only seeing the beginning,' said Mar Velez, policy director at the Latino Coalition for a Healthy California. 'People are suffering silently.' Jason De León, a UCLA professor of anthropology and Chicana/o and Central American studies, warns that deportations taking place in the summer will also probably force many to reattempt border crossings under the most dangerous conditions of the year. 'We're not only putting people in harm's way in the United States,' he said, 'but then by deporting them in the summer … those folks are going to now be running this kind of deadly gantlet through the desert again. They are going to attempt to come back to the only life that many folks have, the only life they've ever known.' Isabel insists they're here for one thing: to work. 'We came here just to work, we want to be allowed to work,' she said. 'Not to feel like we do now, just going out and hiding.' More than anything, 'we want to be again like we were before — free.' This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times. Solve the daily Crossword

Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families
Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families

Los Angeles Times

time25-07-2025

  • Los Angeles Times

Fear of ICE raids is making heat intolerable for Southern California families

For the last 16 years, Isabel has worked harvesting carrots, lemons and grapes in the Coachella Valley. The undocumented mother of three — who, like others The Times spoke with, declined to give her last name out of fear for her family's safety — says the heat in recent summers has been increasingly difficult to manage. And now, with fewer workers showing up due to fears of ongoing immigration enforcement raids across California, Isabel says she and those who remain have to endure fewer breaks and more physical strain. Crews that once numbered five groups of 18 workers each are down to three groups of 18. The demands, however, haven't changed. 'You have to pack so many boxes in a day,' Isabel said in Spanish. 'If it takes you a while to get water, you'll neglect the boxes you're packing. You have to put in more effort.' California's outdoor heat standard — which applies to all workers, legal or undocumented — guarantees breaks for shade and water. But the fear of falling behind often discourages workers from taking advantage, labor advocates say. And with fewer workers in the fields, employers have begun asking those who do show up to stay later into the day; some who used to be home by 1 p.m. are now in the fields during the hottest parts of the afternoon, they say. Isabel described a recent incident of a woman on her crew who appeared to be suffering from heatstroke. The supervisors did help her, 'but it took them a while to call 911,' Isabel said. Sandra Reyes, a program manager at TODEC Legal Center, which works with immigrants and their families in the Inland Empire and Coachella Valley, said she has seen the same pattern unfold across California's agricultural communities. Fewer workers means greater physical strain for those who remain. And in the fields, that strain compounds rapidly under high heat. 'There are times when the body just gives out,' Reyes said. 'All of this is derived from fear.' Across Southern California, from fields to homes, parks to markets, the fear of immigration enforcement is making it harder for individuals and families to stay safe as temperatures rise. Early on June 18 in the eastern Coachella Valley, word spread among the agricultural workers that unmarked cars and SUVS — and, later on, helicopters and convoys of military vehicles — that they rightly guessed carried federal agents were converging on the fields. Anticipating a raid by Customs and Border Protection or Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the reaction was immediate. Workers — many undocumented — fled, some going into the fields, hiding beneath grapevines or climbing up date palm trees. Local organizers began to get calls from frightened workers and their families. Making matters worse was the heat. Inland Congregations United for Change, a nonprofit community organization in San Bernardino, sent out teams with water and ice. They found a number of people who had been in the blazing sun for hours, afraid to return home. Some had run out of water as temperatures soared to 113 degrees, eating grapes off the vine in an attempt to stay hydrated. 'There [were] people who are elderly, who need medication,' said J. Reyes Lopez, who works with the organization. Officials later confirmed that the multiple-agency operation led by the Drug Enforcement Administration had detained 70 to 75 undocumented individuals — part of the Trump administration's immigration enforcement effort. In the days that followed, there were lasting impacts in the fields. 'Many [workers] have not returned to work, especially those with small children,' said TODEC's Reyes. And for those who did return, it soon became clear that they were expected to do the same amount of work, only now with fewer people. The summer of 2024 saw record-breaking heat in Southern California, and experts predict 2025 will be just as bad, if not worse. These rising temperatures — largely due to climate change — have serious effects on the health of workers and their families, said Arturo Vargas Bustamante, a UCLA professor of health policy and management. Exposure to extreme heat can trigger or exacerbate a raft of health issues such as cramps, strokes and cardiovascular and kidney disease, as well as mental health issues. It's not just agricultural workers who are affected. Car wash employees often are exposed to direct heat without regular access to water or breaks, said Flor Rodriguez, executive director of the CLEAN Carwash Worker Center. Because that industry has become a target for enforcement operations, car wash owners have had to hire staff to replace workers who have been apprehended or who no longer come in because they fear they could be next. That often means hiring younger or less experienced people who are unfamiliar with workplace conditions and protections. 'The most dangerous day for you at work is your first day,' said Sheheryar Kaoosji, executive director of the Warehouse Worker Resource Center. Even when workers feel physically unsafe, Kaoosji said, they may fail to speak up, due to fears about job security. When that happens, he said, 'preventative tactics like breaks, cooling down, drinking water, don't happen.' Itzel — a recipient of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals policy whose family lives in Long Beach — has seen the same patterns among her co-workers in the landscaping industry. 'They wanna get to the job site early and they want to leave as early as they can,' she said. 'They're not taking their breaks. … They're not taking their lunches.' When they do, it's often for 30 minutes or less, with many choosing to eat behind closed gates rather than under the shade of a tree if it means they can remain better hidden. Overexertion under peak heat, noted Javier Hernandez, executive director of the Inland Coalition for Immigrant Justice, is becoming a survival strategy — a way to reduce exposure to ICE, even at the cost of physical health. Heat, unlike more visible workplace hazards, often goes unreported and unrecognized, especially in industries where workers are temporary, undocumented or unfamiliar with their rights. 'There's a huge undercount of the number of people who are impacted by heat,' Kaoosji said. 'Heat is really complicated.' And with ICE presence now reported at clinics and hospitals, access to medical care has been compromised. 'It's just another way for people — these communities — to be terrorized,' Kaoosji said. In the Inland Empire, where summer temperatures regularly climb into the triple digits, Hernandez said many families are now making impossible choices: Do they turn on the air conditioning or buy groceries? Do they stay inside and risk heat exhaustion, or go outside and risk being taken? These questions have reshaped Isabel's life. She now goes to work only a few days a week, when she feels safe enough to leave her children. That means there's not enough money to cover the bills. Isabel and her family now spend most of the day confined to a single room in their mobile home, the only one with air conditioning. Their electricity bill has rocketed from $80 to $250 a month. So far, her family has been able to make partial payments to the utility, but she fears what will happen if their electricity gets cut off, as has happened to some of her neighbors. Before the raids, Isabel's family would cool off at a nearby stream, go to air-conditioned shops or grab a raspado, or shaved ice. But in the face of heightened enforcement, these sorts of routines have largely been abandoned. 'Those are very simple things,' Hernandez said, 'but they are very meaningful to families.' Fear also makes it difficult to spend time at public cooling centers, libraries or other public buildings that in theory could offer an escape from the heat. Isabel's youngest child isn't used to staying quiet for long periods, and she worries they'll draw attention in unfamiliar public spaces. 'I do my best to keep them cool,' Isabel said, explaining that she now resorts to bathing her children regularly as one cooling strategy. Itzel's father, who is undocumented, hasn't left his apartment in over a month out of fear of immigration enforcement actions. He used to make up to $6,000 a month as a trucker — now, he can't afford to turn on his air conditioning. Where once there were weekend walks, family barbecues, trips to the park or the beach to cool down, now there is isolation. 'We're basically in a cell,' Itzel said. 'This is worse than COVID. At least with COVID, we could walk around the block.' The same has been true for Mirtha, a naturalized citizen who lives in Maywood with her husband, whose immigration status is uncertain, and their five U.S.-born children. In previous summers, her family — which includes four special needs children — relied on public spaces, such as parks, splash pads, shopping centers and community centers to cool down. Now her family spends most of the time isolated and indoors. Even critical errands such as picking up medications or groceries have shifted to nighttime hours for safety reasons. Meanwhile, her husband, a cook, stopped working altogether in early June due to fear of deportation. Even turning on their one small air conditioner has become a financial decision. Constant fear, confinement and oppressive heat has worsened her children's mental and physical well-being, she said. Staying indoors has also led to serious health challenges for Mirtha herself, who suffers from high blood pressure and other medical conditions. On a particularly hot day on June 21, Mirtha got so sick she ended up in the hospital. 'My high blood pressure got too high. I started having tachycardia,' she said. Despite Mirtha's citizenship status, she hesitated to call emergency services, and instead had her husband drive her and drop her off at the emergency room entrance. Summer temperatures continue to rise and enforcement operations keep expanding. 'We're only seeing the beginning,' said Mar Velez, policy director at the Latino Coalition for a Healthy California. 'People are suffering silently.' Jason De León, a UCLA professor of anthropology and Chicana/o and Central American studies, warns that deportations taking place in the summer will also probably force many to reattempt border crossings under the most dangerous conditions of the year. 'We're not only putting people in harm's way in the United States,' he said, 'but then by deporting them in the summer … those folks are going to now be running this kind of deadly gantlet through the desert again. They are going to attempt to come back to the only life that many folks have, the only life they've ever known.' Isabel insists they're here for one thing: to work. 'We came here just to work, we want to be allowed to work,' she said. 'Not to feel like we do now, just going out and hiding.' More than anything, 'we want to be again like we were before — free.'

Trump's Deportation Policy Collides With Realities of American Labor Market
Trump's Deportation Policy Collides With Realities of American Labor Market

Newsweek

time17-06-2025

  • Politics
  • Newsweek

Trump's Deportation Policy Collides With Realities of American Labor Market

Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. President Donald Trump's mixed messaging on immigration enforcement appears to have has caused concern among his base, fear in Democrat-run cities and confusion at the White House. At the end of last week, Trump reportedly told Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to pause most raids at agricultural facilities and hospitality venues. On Sunday, he said he would increase targeted actions in so-called sanctuary cities. Then on Monday night, the Washington Post reported that the pause on farms, restaurants and hotels was being walked back. The mixed signals on the president's signature domestic policy caused some dismay among those on the right who made it clear they wanted illegal immigrants out of the U.S., regardless of the jobs they were doing, just as the president promised during his campaign. "If ICE is being told to go easy or exempt all of agriculture, meatpacking, hotels, and restaurants from enforcement, first of all how many illegal aliens are left to enforce the law against?" Mark Krikorian, director of the Center for Immigration Studies, a right-leaning thinktank in Washington, D.C., told Newsweek Monday. "If ICE at the same time is supposed to step up enforcement in sanctuary jurisdictions, can they raid restaurants in New York? Can they raid farms in California? Which of those two directives, to exempt certain industries but focus on sanctuary jurisdictions, which of those take priority?" A farmworker wears protective layers while gathering produce in the summer heat, before receiving heat awareness education outreach from the TODEC Legal Center, on August 2, 2023 near Hemet, California. Inset: US President Donald Trump... A farmworker wears protective layers while gathering produce in the summer heat, before receiving heat awareness education outreach from the TODEC Legal Center, on August 2, 2023 near Hemet, California. Inset: US President Donald Trump attends an arrival ceremony during the Group of Seven (G7) Summit at the Pomeroy Kananaskis Mountain Lodge in Kananaskis, Alberta, Canada on June 16, 2025. More Mario Tama/LUDOVIC MARIN/POOL/AFP via Getty Images Are ICE Raids On Or Off? Krikorian's questions get at the heart of the complexities of carrying out mass deportations in a country dependent on migrant labor. Trump campaigned on a promise to deport upwards of 11 million people in the country without legal status. While originally focused on those with criminal records, experts repeatedly warned that a deportation effort on this scale would sweep up undocumented immigrants without criminal records — including those who make America's farming and hospitalities industries run. On Thursday, Trump appeared to concede that his sweeping immigration enforcement efforts were hurting some of those very industries, including agriculture, hospitality and dining. "Our great Farmers and people in the Hotel and Leisure business have been stating that our very aggressive policy on immigration is taking very good, long time workers away from them, with those jobs being almost impossible to replace," Trump wrote in a Truth Social post. "In many cases the Criminals allowed into our Country by the VERY Stupid Biden Open Borders Policy are applying for those jobs. This is not good. We must protect our Farmers, but get the CRIMINALS OUT OF THE USA. Changes are coming!" If Trump were to ease up on workplace raids, he will be going against his base in Republican-majority states who voted for the removal of illegal immigrants writ large. But many red states also have vast rural areas that see immigrants employed on farms, as well as urban and suburban regions that depend on migrants to staff jobs in healthcare and hospitality. "The president himself is not a restrictionist. He's not a low immigration guy. He's a regular Republican, 'legal good, illegal bad' guy on immigration," Krikorian said. "But his voters are immigration restrictionists. In other words, regular voters who voted for Trump want less immigration overall. Not just illegal but legal, too." On Monday night, DHS reportedly walked back the directive it had sent to agents days earlier, with the department's leads telling ICE and Homeland Security Investigations (HSI) that the White House did not support the pause, per the Post. Meanwhile, Trump's deputy chief of staff and immigration policy architect, Stephen Miller, has been clear that he wants to see around 3,000 arrests per day from ICE. Exempting workplaces would likely hinder that already difficult goal. Mixed Messaging From Trump The president also posted on Sunday night that he was ordering ICE, with its already strained resources, to increase its efforts in sanctuary cities such as Chicago, New York City and Los Angeles – areas which voted strongly in favor of Democratic candidate and former Vice President Kamala Harris in November's presidential election. "This muddies the president's message about deporting the largest number of illegal aliens ever," Krikorian said. "That's a problem both internally, as far as giving direction to what ICE agents are supposed to do, an externally as to who is going to bother self-deporting now, if Trump has said a huge share of the illegal population doesn't have to flee?" DHS has urged those without legal status to self-deport, with reports over the weekend that upwards of a million people had chosen to do so before ICE could detain them. That data has not yet been made public. Law enforcement stand guard outside the Federal Building during a protest on Friday, June 13, 2025, in Los Angeles. A federal appeals court ruled on June 12 that the Trump administration can maintain control of... Law enforcement stand guard outside the Federal Building during a protest on Friday, June 13, 2025, in Los Angeles. A federal appeals court ruled on June 12 that the Trump administration can maintain control of the California National Guard, overturning a lower court ruling that U.S. President Donald Trump's deployment of troops to Los Angeles without Governor Gavin Newsom's consent as unlawful. More Ringo Chiu via AP Krikorian said he believed there was a fight going on within the White House over what the priorities were on deportations, with Trump potentially throwing ideas out on social media and his staff struggling to keep up with the latest conflicting marching orders. This has the effect of sending illegal immigrants and their employers the same message that previous administrations had, in Krikorian's view: that it was OK to skirt the law. "If you're going to restore integrity in the immigration system, then you're going to have to inconvenience people who have profited from the earlier arrangements," he said. When Newsweek asked DHS how it would continue to deliver on what the president promised while protecting American businesses, and whether policies would differ state-to-state, Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin said the department will "follow the President's direction and continue to work to get the worst of the worst criminal illegal aliens off of America's streets." Where's Congress? Getting a grasp on deportation numbers remains difficult under this administration, but pressure is being placed on ICE to triply daily arrest numbers. Congress is being asked to dramatically increase funding for the agency, but longer-term solutions to keep border crossings low and tighten vetting requirements remain unknown. "I really think that Trump's comments are a reflection of the decades of Congressional inaction on immigration," Kathleen Bush-Joseph, policy analyst at the nonpartisan Migration Policy Institute, told Newsweek. "Because these industries are relying on immigrant workers, but they have not been provided a pathway to lawful status, and they have remained in the country, for many cases, for many years." Trump's back-and-forth over farming and hospitality worksite arrests will not change the status of those illegal immigrants. If or when the president decides to act on tightening legal immigration laws, or to give undocumented immigrants some kind of amnesty, remains to be seen, and bigger changes like this would likely need Congressional approval. Lawmakers have reintroduced the bipartisan Farm Workforce Modernization Act, which would establish an easier pathway for immigrants to gain legal status to work on American farms, but widespread changes to improve the country's legal immigration system rarely make it all the way to the Oval Office. Bush-Joseph said Congress is currently being responsive to the president's wishes when it comes to ICE funding, so it could be the right time to act. "So would Congress also be willing to move on more standalone immigration legislation, like they did with the Laken Riley Act, is a question, but of course the topic of legalization remains extremely politicized," she said.

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