From snowy cities to the Mexican border – Trump faces deportation threat

As a light snow fell outside, worshipers gathered at Chicago’s Lincoln United Methodist Church to pray and plan for what will happen when Donald Trump takes office next week, when the president-elect begins the largest deportation of undocumented immigrants in U.S. history. Have promised to do.

“The 20th (of January) will be here before we know it,” the Rev. Tanya Lozano-Washington told the congregation after serving Mexican hot chocolate and hot cups of coffee to warm up the crowd of about 60.

Located in Pilsen, a predominantly Latino neighborhood, the church has long been a center for pro-immigration activists in the city’s large Hispanic community. But Sunday services are now English only, as in-person Spanish-language services have been canceled.

The decision to move them online was made out of fear that those gatherings could be targeted by anti-immigration activists or Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).

The incoming president has said he will deport millions of illegal immigrants, threatened workplace raids, and reports suggest he might do just that End a long-standing policy that has made churches immune from ICE arrests,

According to US-born David Crusano, a parishioner, “The threat is very real. It is very alive”.

Cruseno said his mother entered the country illegally from Mexico but has been working and paying taxes in the United States for 30 years.

“With the new administration coming in, it’s almost like oppression,” he told the BBC. “I feel like we are being singled out and targeted in a way that is unjust, even though we cooperate endlessly with this country.”

But across the country, 1,400 miles (2,253 km) south in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas, another immigrant community has a very different outlook on the impending inauguration — a sign of how the Latino community is increasingly focused on illegal immigration and Donald Trump. They are divided over Trump’s approach to the US-Mexico border.

“Immigration is necessary… but the right way,” said resident David Porras, a cattleman, farmer and botanist.

“But with Trump, we’re going to do it right.”

The area is separated from Mexico only by the dark, shallow, narrow waters of the river and thick vegetation and mesquite thickets – locals say the day-to-day realities of living on the border have opened the eyes of many. As are the dangers of illegal immigration.

“I have families (of immigrants) coming to the back door asking for water and shelter,” said Amanda Garcia, a resident of Starr County, where about 97% of residents identify as Latino, making it the most Latino county in the US. In outside Puerto Rico.

“We had an incident once where a young woman was alone with two men, and you could tell she was tired – and she was being abused.”

In more than a dozen interviews, residents in two constituent counties of the Rio Grande Valley — Starr and neighboring Hidalgo — described other border-related incidents, from migrants waking up on their property to cartel stash houses used for drug trafficking. Including seeing the busting of. Or dangerous high-speed chases between officers and smugglers.

Many people in the majority Latino part of Texas are immigrants themselves, or are the children or grandchildren of immigrants. Once a reliable Democratic stronghold in otherwise “red” Texas, Starr County swung in Trump’s favor in the 2024 election – the first time the county was won by a Republican in more than 130 years.

Nationally, Trump garnered nearly 45% of the Latino vote — a massive jump of 14 percentage points compared to the 2020 election.

Locals say the victory in Starr County was in no small part due to Trump’s stance on the border.

“We live in a country of order and laws,” said Demacio Guerrero, a naturalized U.S. citizen originally from Mexico who lives in the city of Hidalgo, across the international bridge from the cartel-plagued Mexican city of Reynosa.

“We have to be able to (say) who comes in and out,” Mr. Guerrero said, speaking in Spanish just meters away from the gray, tall metal barrier that represents the end of the U.S. . “Otherwise, this country is lost.”

Like other Trump supporters in the Rio Grande Valley, Mr Guerrero has said – repeatedly – ​​that he is “not against immigration”.

“But they must do it the right way,” he said. “As others have.”

“Trump is not anti-immigrant or racist at all,” agreed Marissa Garcia, a resident of Rio Grande City, Starr County.

“We’re tired of them (undocumented immigrants) coming in and thinking they can do whatever they want on our property or land and take advantage of the system,” he said. “It’s not racist to say that things need to change, and we need to take advantage of it.”

Support for deportation is so strong that the Texas state government offered Donald Trump 1,400 acres (567 ha) of land just outside the city of Rio Grande to build detention facilities for undocumented immigrants – according to the American Civil Liberties Union of Texas ( ACLU) described it as a controversial move. As “mass incarceration” that would “lead to civil rights violations”.

While the parcel of land – located between a peaceful farm-to-market road and the Rio Grande – is currently quiet, city officials believe it could eventually be a boon for the area.

“If you look at it from a development point of view, it’s very good for the city’s economy,” Rio Grande city manager Gilberto Millan told the BBC.

“Obviously, it has some negative connotations because of it being a detention area,” he said. “You can look at it that way, but obviously you need a place for these people to live.”

The number of migrants coming through Mexico is trending downwards – last month’s crossings were the lowest since January 2020

But the issue is still alive on the streets of cities like Chicago, far from the southern border.

It is one of several Democrat-run cities that have enacted so-called “sanctuary city” laws that limit local police cooperation with federal immigration authorities.

In response, since 2022, Republican governors in southern states like Texas and Florida have sent thousands of immigrants north on buses and planes.

Tom Homan, whom Trump picked to lead border policy, told a gathering of Republicans in Chicago last month that the Midwestern city would be “ground zero” for mass deportations.

“On January 21st, you’re going to see a lot of ICE agents looking for criminals and gang members in your city,” Homan said. “Trust it. It will happen.”

Many local politicians, including Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson and the state’s governor, JB Pritzker, have continued to support sanctuary city laws, dubbed “Welcoming City” ordinances here.

But this policy is not universally liked. In November, Trump made gains in several Latino areas.

Recently, two Democratic Hispanic lawmakers attempted to change the ordinance and allow Chicago police some cooperation with federal authorities. His measure was blocked by Johnson and his progressive allies on Wednesday.

For now, worshipers at Lincoln United Methodist are making plans and watching carefully how Trump’s plans play out.

“I’m scared, but I can’t imagine what undocumented people are feeling,” said De Camacho, a 21-year-old legal immigrant from Mexico who joined the church congregation on Sunday.

Mexican consular officials in Chicago and elsewhere in the US have also said they are working on a mobile app that would allow Mexican migrants to alert relatives and consular officials if they are about to be detained and deported. May go.

Officials in Mexico have described the system as a “panic button”.

Lincoln United organizers are also reaching out to legal experts, advising locals on how to take care of their finances or arranging child care in case of deportation and providing details of an immigrant’s family members and other information in English. Are helping in making identity card with.

And many second-generation immigrants here said they are working to improve their Spanish to be able to translate or provide legal information for immigrants being interviewed by officials.

“If someone with five children is taken, who will take the children? Will they go to social services? Will the family be divided?” said the Rev. Emma Lozano – mother of the Reverend Tanya Lozano-Washington and a longtime community activist and church elder.

“People have similar questions in their minds,” he said. “‘How can we protect our families – what’s the plan?'”