WASHINGTON – An undocumented man from Guatemala whose leukemia postponed chemotherapy due to fear of going to the hospital.
My Mexican grandmother packed most of her belongings into boxes.
The Pentecostal church in East Los Angeles lost almost half of its in-person membership.
Migrants are responding to the Trump administration’s relentless enforcement raids by entering lockdowns across California and across the United States. Activities that once were regular or ordinary parts of life – taking children to school, buying groceries, driving – have become difficult as immigrants who lack legal approval and methods of avoiding arrest and deportation.
To stay safe, some migrants exchanged direct activity with digital approximations. Others are simply closed off society.
“We are a thriving partner in the UCLA Labor Center,” said Victor Naro, professor and project director.
Pastor Carlos Rincon said about 400 people attended his church each week. Currently, half of attendance and viewers on live streaming services on Facebook and YouTube are growing.
(Jason Armand/Los Angeles Times)
Pastor Carlos Rincon, who heads the Pentecostal church in East Los Angeles, said about 400 people attended the church each week. People with roots in Guatemala, Mexico, El Salvador and Honduras. Currently, half of attendance and viewers on live streaming services on Facebook and YouTube are growing. Several prayer groups meet on Zoom.
In January, the Trump administration said immigration agents would be arrested freely in sensitive and once modest places, such as hospitals, schools and churches.
The Rincon Church was not named after concerns about retaliation, but fear, big and small, obscures life.
A congregation in his late 20s, when leukemia postponed chemotherapy, fears that he will be caught and deported to Guatemala. After he decided to reschedule future treatments, church leaders agreed to them stay with him in the hospital.
Pastor Carlos Rincon says he had to cancel music classes for children due to the attack. (Jason Armand/Los Angeles Times)
The Trump administration says immigration agents can be free to arrest in places once considered off-limits, such as hospitals, schools, and churches. (Jason Armand/Los Angeles Times)
After many said they were too afraid to attend, a half-day program and kids’ music classes have been cancelled this month to provide resources to landscapers. Rincon resumed music classes last week for anyone who could attend.
On Wednesday, he warned his family was attending regular, in-person church services after a neighbor told him that immigration agents were hiding in the area.
Father Ricardo Gonzales said it was five miles away at Our Lady of Lourdes Church. He said church attendance has declined by at least 30%. He’s considering it, but the church is not a livestream mass.
Gonzalez says parishioners hope he has the answer, but as the immigrant green card holder himself, he doesn’t know how he would respond if an immigrant agent appeared in the church either.
“If I were to be arrested, will I be thrown out of the country?” he said. “Who will help me?”
Pastor Carlos Rincon and his wife sing and pray during livestream church services.
(Jason Armand/Los Angeles Times)
For weeks, agents have arrested people who appeared in court for immigration proceedings.
Volunteers from the USC, UCLA, UC, UC Irvine and UC Act responded by establishing a free hotline to help people submit moves to move appointments online. The service was the idea of Olu Orange, a lawyer running the agent for Change’s Civil Rights Advocacy Initiative and a professor of USC Politics and International Relations.
Since the hotline (888-462-5211) was released on June 15th, volunteers have answered calls of around 4,000 people, and over 300 have completed the form to help move the hearing online.
On Friday, Orange answered a call from a voice-over girl, about 12 years old.
“She saw this number on social media and she called and said, ‘What can I do?’,” Orange said. He gave her the number for Chirla, a local immigration rights nonprofit.
Luz Gallegos, executive director of the Inland Empire TODEC Legal Centre, said the pandemic taught people to use technology, and thus prepared rural and senior residents for the current reality. I currently have WiFi access and know how to use Zoom.
However, some people are also afraid to maintain digital connections.
Gallegos says many people calling the Todeck hotline are changing telephone companies because they fear they will be tracked by immigration agents. Others say they are replacing their phones with their pagers.
A woman identified only as Doña Chera at her home on Tuesday. She has put together the properties she plans to return to Michoacan’s hometown for the first time in over 25 years. But her brother said it wasn’t safe.
(Julie Leopo/Age)
Many of the immigrants Todeck served now leave homes just for work, Gallegos said. They think that border agents are the least likely to be on patrol, and the food will be delivered and run to the store. Before school left for the summer, some parents switched their children to online classes.
Some inland Imperial Farm Workers have now stopped getting their own emails from community mailboxes, Gallegos said. So Toddeck mobilizes volunteers to unload mail and get people on board to help with interpretive needs.
One person who helped the nonprofit was Doña Chela, an undocumented 66-year-old woman.
Many months ago, Doña Chera packed her belongings after planning to return to Michoacan’s hometown for the first time since her arrival in the United States in 1999.
Her husband, a US citizen, has dementia. She considered moving to a border town, such as Mexicali, instead. She and her husband were still able to be close to three adults, US-born daughters.
Doña Chera stands by her luggage at home. (Julie Leopo/Age)
Doña Chera puts water into her garden. “If I hadn’t been with this garden, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” she said in Spanish. (Julie Leopo/Age)
However, after that, her husband’s condition began to fade and now she finds it too difficult to start over. Still, she chose to pack her clothes, pots, pans and jewelry.
Doña Chera will not leave his home except in an emergency. She stops driving, so her daughter brings her groceries. She no longer goes to church and makes big batches of tamale for community reunion. She barely sleeps, and the agent thinks she can burst her door anytime.
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” she said, crying. “I’ll wait here until they kick me out.”
Her only distraction from constant anxiety is the lush gardens she tends to do every day, featuring mangoes, nopals, limes and a variety of herbs.
Gallegos of Todeck said the situation facing Doña Chera and many others reminded me of the song of Los Tigress del Norte – “La Jaura de Oro.” Golden cage.
“Our community is in a golden cage,” she said. “I hope it’s not too late when this country realizes that we need our migrant workforce to maintain our economy.”
St. John’s Community Health, one of Los Angeles County’s largest nonprofit community healthcare providers, has started a housing visit program after dealing with low-income and working-class residents, inspecting patients and canceling many appointments “only because of fear of being arrested by ICE.”
The clinics serving LA, the Inland Empire and Coachella Valley said that since the immigrant raids began, more than a third of all patients have not appeared or canceled appointments.
According to Jim Manzia, the clinic’s chief executive, some of the people who cancelled registered for a home visit made by a small team of medical staff. The clinic has added another home visit team to double the amount of visits they make.
Community Coalition is intervening to help migrants who cannot afford to hide. For example, the OC Rapid Response Network has raised sufficient funds through the payment app Venmo to send 14 street vendors home.
Rob Smith is standing by the food he delivered after unloading the truck at a food drop site at Paramount on Monday.
(Luke Johnson/Los Angeles Times)
Robb Smith, who runs Alley Cat Deliveries, said he saw a 25% increase in grocery delivery requests.
He doesn’t ask customers if they are hiding immigrants, but there are signs that people are afraid of leaving their homes. One woman who said she was inquiring for a friend asked if she saw an ice rep while picking up items at Costco.
1. Tito Rodriguez will help unload Driegian products and groceries Rob Smith’s truck at Paramount on Monday, June 23, 2025. 2. Rob Smith on the left will drop the truck off with the help of Tito Rodriguez at the drop site on Monday in Paramount. 3. Rob Smith will carry a box of grocery down the driveway in Long Beach on Monday. He established and ran alley cat delivery. (Luke Johnson/Los Angeles Times)
Glenn Curad, founder and CEO of World Harvest Food Bank in Los Angeles, said there has been a significant decline in people coming to pick up groceries directly. He said up to 100 families visited the food bank on weekdays and visited the regular 150 down.
The Food Bank has a program called Cart with a Heart, where people can donate $50 to fresh produce, protein and other staples to feed two families a week. Donors can bring those groceries to those who protect them in place.
“It’s almost like a war scene,” Curad said. “You’re going to hide here. I’ll go out and get it for you, and I’ll get it back – that mentality.”
Castillo reported from Wong from Washington and San Francisco. Los Angeles Times staff writer Melissa Gomez contributed to this report.
