I think it is safe to say that the feeling of impending doom has become a heavy, cloudy norm for many of us. Even that sentence doesn’t seem to adequately capture the feeling, the need to hide away underneath a warm, fuzzy blanket and hibernate until spring of 2029.
It’s hard to remember that life comes in waves –– that these feelings won’t last forever. So, we try to step out in faith and trust that something good might come along. And I really believe the best place to find goodness is in community.
The most recent place I found hope was in a small basement in downtown Flint.
Flint SOUP was hosting a special dinner at Flint Presbyterian that allowed five local entrepreneurs to pitch their small businesses. After the presentations, guests were provided soups, salads, and bread with a side of live music. Guests then voted on the winning presentation, awarding the winner $2,200.
All presenters were part of the Latinx community in Flint, so the basement of the church was filled with my friends. Some were there to present their new business ideas and the rest were there to cheer each other on.
In previous years, photographing anyone or anything from Latinx culture would bring me immense joy. That evening, I felt afraid. What if my photos of this event could put us all at risk of another Immigration Customs Enforcement (ICE) raid? What if these photos could be used against my community and people I love?
This year, one of our beloved friends Jesús was taken by ICE on his way to work. A former Flint SOUP presenter, Jesús worked at The Kickback downtown, where he served his delicious Cuban pizzas. His detainment put a local and hard-working face on the terror we’ve seen in news reports from other communities. It created a current of fear and intense emotions here at home. I watched one of my girlfriends weep as she spoke about the possibility of having to raise her daughter without a father if he were ever detained. I listened to community leaders in the Latinx community say it is better to lay low than to lose another one of us.
ICE arrests have increased in Michigan by 154% in Michigan this year, averaging 12 individuals detained daily.
According to the Cato Institute, ICE is primarily detaining individuals with no criminal background of any kind. The White House has ordered ICE to meet a daily quota of 3,000 arrests. For the fiscal year, more than 93% of ICE bookings were people who were never convicted of any violent offense.
On July 14, the Metro Police Authority of Genesee County (MPAGC) entered into a 287(g) — a controversial federal program that deputizes local police to act as ICE agents. MPAGC is participating in the “task force model,” which effectively gives local law enforcement officers most of the powers of immigration enforcement agents—essentially, giving Metro cops the power to pull any of us over for no reason.
For many of us, these headlines aren’t abstract. They reopen the quiet fears I grew up with. As a first generation Brasilian-American, the fears of deportation have always been real. The concern of being separated from my parents created a world inside my home where we had our own set of rules we followed to keep us together and safe. Depending on the political climate, detainments of immigrants came in waves and were rarely reported on. The current environment is one in which ICE can break into an apartment complex in the middle of the night and steal people away.
As I moved through the crowd in First Pres, I saw no fear reflected in my camera’s viewfinder. All I saw was unequivocal joy. Women and men who were competing to win the same prize were hugging, laughing, and encouraging each other.
The crowd just kept growing, extra chairs and tables had to be brought into the room to squeeze in more bubbling, blissful Latinos. No one was hiding or trembling with fear.
Victoria Garcia, owner of Sweet Home Argentina, won first place. Her foods share the layered warmth and flavors of her childhood. Each dish tells a story of tradition, family and love. She connects the community through her food. She creates a space, a moment in time, where just one bite of her delicious melt-in-your-moth alfajores, make anyone feel welcomed.
We were living, breathing and thriving together, even in the midst of oppression.
We are not the criminals the far right would have you believe. No one leaves their home, their country, and culture willingly. Who would leave the love of their life for a mistress that insults, lies, and tells everyone to hate you for being different? We leave our beloved countries to find opportunity, hope, and at times, a desperate chance to start anew.
Millions of people around the world still dream of seeing the Statue of Liberty, towering on her pedestal, looking out over the New York Harbor. The plaque below her, reminding us all of her promise of comfort, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
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