A woman pushes a stroller through a residential neighborhood feet away from the beach in Coronado, the toddler inside is grinning.
“I’ve always gone out into the street (in the United States) with fear,” says the Mexican national, who looks around nervously, flashes a timid smile, then shrugs her shoulders, “but now there’s even more fear.”
Amid a Trump administration crackdown on immigration, countless undocumented workers share that trepidation.
Trump’s campaign to root out illegal immigrants was launched Jan. 20, the day he was sworn into office, with an executive order directing the Department of Homeland Security to conduct mass raids while ending a humanitarian parole program for undocumented refugees.
Since then, the White House has publicized arrests and Trump has thanked the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), for “helping in the facilitation of this deportation operation,” as announced by White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt.
On Jan. 29, Trump signed the Laken Riley Act, which mandates federal detention of illegal immigrants who are accused of theft, burglary, assaulting a law enforcement officer, or any crime that causes death or serious bodily injury.
This month, Leavitt said more than 8,000 illegal immigrants have been detained since President Trump was inaugurated.
“Efforts to seal the border, halt the invasion and carry out the largest mass deportation campaign continue at lightning speed,” Leavitt told reporters on Feb. 5.
Like top promises on his platform list, Trump has argued that illegal immigration has flooded the United States with foreign criminals, created competition with American workers in the job market and drained social welfare programs.
For some migrants in Coronado — construction workers, house cleaners, landscapers, hospitality workers, caregivers and others – the initiative comes with a sense of dread.
“The only thing I ask God is to take care of all of us who are already here and to allow us to continue working,” said the woman in the residential neighborhood, who works as a nanny in Coronado. “We are here for a reason, out of necessity.”
People of Mexican-heritage in this story, who were interviewed in Spanish, declined to be identified by name for fear of facing immigration action.
Voices from the labor force
“I came here for a better life,” said a Tijuana-native, who carried his tools after a full day of work near a popular tourist spot in Coronado. “Things are very difficult over there with drug trafficking and all that.”
He spoke of what he says are uncomfortable experiences such as an encounter with “la migra,” which led him to cancel a trip to the grocery store.
If he gets deported, the man added, he is not considering returning unless he obtains a visa. The trek across the border is just too difficult, too dangerous, he explained.
“Two days, I didn’t eat or drink water,” he said, explaining he got lost and spent four days in the desert almost three years ago. “I was dying. I really just wanted them to catch me and send me back, but it was my destiny to get here.”
The man does not believe that illegal crossing makes him a criminal. Instead, he portrays himself as an economic refugee who also sought relief from extortion by Mexican authorities.
“I had never longed to be on this side of the border, but things got really tough in Tijuana. You either work or you die,” he said.
Another construction worker in Coronado, the only U.S. citizen in his immediate family, faces a different concern; his son and wife’s ongoing process to gain legal status may be in jeopardy.
While born in Los Angeles, this man said he spent the majority of his life in the Mexican state of Jalisco and today lives in Tijuana, commuting to work.
“People who commit crimes, who steal, who just come to damage the country – in all honesty, I’ll say, ‘Well, they are my people, but the truth is that they are people who are not wanted here nor in Mexico or anywhere else because they just go around doing bad things,’” he added.
Immigrants often talk about escaping the plague of drugs in Mexico, and condemn the impact on the U.S.
“I agree with Trump on that,” said the L.A. born man whose work in construction led him to Coronado several years ago, “but not on calling those who come to seek a good (life), for their children, criminals.”
“The only one I always ask is God,” he added. “In reality, I don’t give a damn about Trump or whoever else. I always say to him, “My God, help us, help those who have a good plan, the working people, help us. Help me, help my family. I mean, the decision is his.”
Looking to God
Like other undocumented immigrants, the Coronado nanny described a difficult journey across the U.S.-Mexico border.
“Getting here was hard,” she said. “You go hungry, you experience cold temperatures.”
The single mom in her 40s said she came to the United States because of her position as the head of her household, looking to work for financial security and leaving her children, some adult-aged, back home. She traversed with a group of 15 people.
“I did engage in a crime right from there,” she added.
The nanny said she could only earn about $34 a week in her homeland. Even working 15-hours shifts was not enough to provide for her family.
“We were in a very difficult situation,” she said in a melancholic tone. “I had to sacrifice the love of my children to give them a better life.”
The life she envisioned for her kids, she said, requires education leading to careers.
“That personally pushed me to risk my life,” she said. “It gave me the strength to say, “I’m going to get there, I’m going to make it.”
Virtually all the money earned now as a nanny makes its way back to Mexico.
“If I get deported, how do I help my kids?” she asks before the corners of her mouth turn downwards.
Cultural and social consequences
Another woman – a Mexico native who became a U.S. citizen through marriage – said she understands the alarm spreading among undocumented migrants.
“I can put myself in their place,” she explained. “I know that they depend on this work to support their families and I can understand that we are living in a climate of concern and fear.”
The Coronado resident, who is a stay-at-home mom with a background in psychology, said immigration is a multifaceted topic with many root causes – social, economic and political.
“I think that mass deportations are not the solution,” she added about actions that could lead to cultural and social problems in the U.S. and Mexico.
For her, the answer lies in public policies that would legally allow “an undocumented labor force that is ultimately the foundation of an economy” in the United States to continue existing contributions.
“I put myself in the place of the people who don’t have a green card nor citizenship because I think they are suffering right now,” she said, “wondering what’s going to happen.”
