Across Minnesota, from small towns to farming communities far beyond Minneapolis, federal immigration policies and aggressive enforcement actions are doing more than shaping headlines. They are upending lives. While attention has focused on the surge of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and other federal agents in Minneapolis and St. Paul, effects are being felt across the state where our members live and serve. The following are first-hand accounts from AFSCME Council 65 members whose families, livelihoods, and communities are being impacted by current federal policies.
The current administration is telling you not to believe your neighbors or even your own eyes. In a time when people consume polarizing and unreliable narratives, we remind our communities what truly matters – your neighbors, your friends, and your families. These are the stories we are hearing. These are the stories you should be paying attention to.
Public School Worker
“I don’t want to be taken away from my family.” “My friends are all white. They don’t know what it’s like to look like me.” “They say I have to prove I’m a citizen, but I’m not even old enough to drive. What do I do?”
These are the conversations I have every day. Students sit in my office and sob, and I do the only thing I can: I lie. I tell them they are safe. I tell them we have procedures to protect them so no one can just walk in and take them.
But I am a liar.
I cannot protect these children once they step outside our school walls. I cannot stop ICE from detaining them simply because they do not “look white.” It doesn’t matter if they are citizens, if they are multi-racial, or if they have lived here since the day they were born. To the system, they are targets.
If you believe agents are only detaining undocumented immigrants with criminal records, you are wrong. People are being stopped because of the color of their skin. They are being interrogated and threatened for information. This isn't a theory I read on social media; this is what I am witnessing with my own two eyes.
I carry my passport at all times because I'm scared to not make it home to my own children.
I used to give rides to families in need, until ICE began following my car. I have never felt fear like that in my life. When I tried to deliver food to students who were starving in their homes, they followed me again. Now, I wait until after 11:00 PM to drop off groceries moving through the night like a criminal just to feed a hungry child.
These kids are losing their neighbors, their friends, and their parents. They don’t know where the people go after they are taken, they only know the terror of leaving the house. They are even afraid to go to the grocery store.
To those who ‘stand with ICE,’ I ask: How would you respond to the anguished cries of a child? Would you look them in the eye and tell them that people who look like them don’t belong? Would you remind a ten-year-old that their trauma is ‘legal’?
Would you tell them to carry papers to prove they have the right to exist, or would you be the one to pick up the phone and turn them in?
Tonya Lee, Beltrami County Local 3709 President
My heart grieves as I lay awake unable to sleep feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders in a country that once was a safe place. That feeling of safety has now been replaced with uncertainty and pain. Family dinners, once a happy time for sharing the highlights of our day, are now replaced with tough conversations about safety plans, and critical decisions to keep our family safe in a nation where it's not okay to be a person of color or an immigrant. Our anxiety is high, and our worry is real.
This is what it’s like for a family in a country that has turned against you because of the color of your skin and for having family members who immigrated. A country where a young white man in athletic clothes is seen as a jock or athlete but young men who are people of color wear the same thing are seen as thugs or people who want trouble. You tell your sons about the stories of Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, and Michael Brown. Living in this country, for us, means having conversations with your family members about what to do if they get pulled over. It means your husband will be asked if he has a bomb on his truck while he is delivering paper products to a local hospital on his weekly route. It means looking over your shoulder because it seems white supremist feel safe to promote their agenda and want to wipe your family off the face of this earth because of your skin color.
Being a family of color and an immigrant in our country means carrying your citizenship paperwork and worrying if it really will make a difference. When we live in a nation where Renee Good and Alex Pretti are looked at as domestic terrorists for taking a stand for human rights, you worry about your own daughter who is going to school to further her nursing career. When she is passionate and cares about people and for what's right, you think, “what if that was my child shot on the streets of Minneapolis because she stood up for Human Rights.”
Why do I write? I am hurt. I am angry. I am tired. This battle is not just ours! When will we stop this madness? When will we say, ‘Enough is Enough?’ When will our county be safe again? We can’t carry this burden alone. We need each other. My family lives matter and so do yours. Our children—no matter what race or where they are from—deserve a safe place where diversity is celebrated, and they are made to feel valuable. This is my battle cry.
MaryAnn, County Worker
Being Hispanic and being the only person of color in my whole building, having ICE in the area has been terrifying. I have reached out to my boss and supervisor to see if I could work remotely because I am scared for my safety. I’m scared to leave my home. My labor representative reached out to my HR to see if there’s anything they can do. They responded that remote work is not available for anyone in my department. The fact is that two employees are allowed to work fully remotely. My concerns were dismissed.
One of my coworkers told me that she would ride with me to make me feel more safe. She said she has my back and she would help me with my commute. I would drive in the morning when it’s dark and then she would drive us home in the daylight so I wouldn’t be targeted. Supervisors have denied work from home requests for this coworker to make her schedule work with mine.
My coworkers think it’s ok to say things like, “What’s the difference between a green card and a library card?” “We were the most diverse county. Now we just have you, so I really don’t have a lot of concerns.”
My boss asked me why I am scared. It’s obvious to anyone paying attention that anyone Hispanic can be targeted. I don’t want to be targeted.
Honestly, I feel like I live in Nazi Germany. My kids don’t want to leave the house. We’re scared. It doesn’t matter if I’m a US Citizen. It doesn’t matter if I speak perfect English. They’re taking people by force. This is a very traumatizing time for me and my family.
I’m a 54-year-old woman and I never thought I would have to fear for my life like this in my community where I thought I was safe.
Our members are being persecuted. Our members are hurt. Our members are terrified. It is in this moment that we must remember, an injury to one is an injury to all. There is no justification for the terror being imposed on our neighbors and our communities.
AFSCME Council 65 demands
- ICE leave our communities.
- Fair and humane immigration policies.
- Every member of our community be treated with dignity and respect.
- The federal agents who killed Renee Good and Alex Pretti be held legally accountable.
AFSCME Council 65 will continue to advocate for safe workplaces, strong public services, and the constitutional freedoms that protect all working people.