Hotline operators report flood of calls for rental assistance as residents hide during ICE surge
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An eviction notice peers at 25-year-old Daisy Banuelos Alonzo from her kitchen table, where she eats cereal with her 6-year-old son. There’s an empty chair because their favorite person is missing from the table: Banuelos Alonzo’s husband.
Tomas Martinez-Gregorio was taken by federal agents on New Year’s Eve, while the three of them were on their way to the hospital.
Less than 24 hours later, rent was due.
Now, Banuelos Alonzo is among the growing number of people facing housing instability because of the surge of ICE activity in the Twin Cities. For many, it’s a catch-22: Leave the home and risk being detained or hurt, or miss paychecks to stay home and risk losing its protection.
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Banuelos Alonzo’s husband was the breadwinner and the one paying the bills. Without him, she couldn't come up with the rent. And even though she and her son are U.S. citizens, Banuelos Alonzo, who is Latina, said she doesn’t leave the house most days.
Federal agents have been documented detaining young children and U.S. citizens, and, in less than three weeks, have shot and killed two U.S. citizens.
Going outside for work — for anything — doesn’t feel safe.
“What if they take me?” she said. “What’s gonna happen to my kid?”
Banuelos Alonzo’s 6-year-old son rarely attends his Spanish immersion kindergarten these days, because she is anxious it will be targeted by masked federal agents armed with tear gas and guns. She keeps her door locked and, on nights when the panic is worse, puts a section of her couch in front of the door.
A dangerous encounter feels all the more likely to happen since her husband’s detention.
Her family was en route to her son’s tonsil surgery when federal agents cornered their vehicle, pushed Banuelos Alonzo into the hood of the car and took her husband, while the boy watched from the backseat.
Martinez-Gregorio, who is undocumented, remains in a detention facility in Minnesota. The U.S. Department of Homeland Security has repeatedly claimed it is targeting “the worst of the worst criminals including murderers, rapists, pedophiles, gang members, and terrorists.”
A public records database showed one incident on Martinez-Gregorio’s record in which he drove over the speed limit without a license and insurance.
It’s been three weeks without him now, and the costs are mounting.
There’s the internet bill. The phone bill. The gas and electricity bill. Legal fees for the attorney she hired to help get her husband out of detention. There’s the rent.
Beneath the visible violence frequently captured on phone videos and by journalists, statewide help lines for social services and legal aid show signs of this looming, quieter crisis.
Staff at 211 Greater Twin Cities United Way, a line that connects Minnesotans with resources, report growing numbers of callers asking for assistance paying rent in recent weeks. At HOME Line, a tenant hotline, staff said callers have specifically tied their need for assistance to the presence of ICE.
Meanwhile, calls for local government intervention have grown louder, including for an eviction moratorium to provide relief from what many public officials and residents are calling an occupation.
Tricia McLaughlin, a spokesperson for DHS, did not comment on housing instability following the ICE surge, but said “those who are here legally and are not breaking our laws have nothing to fear.” On the ground, residents dodge tear gas in their neighborhoods and pepper spray on school property, and demand justice for the two U.S. citizens, Renee Macklin Good and Alex Pretti, who were killed by federal agents.
Hotlines see a wave of residents seeking help
Calls to 211 requesting rent assistance more than tripled in mid-January compared to the weekly average the previous quarter, according to Shannon Smith Jones, a senior vice president at Greater Twin Cities United Way, which operates the phone line.
Many of the calls went through the Spanish language line, which has seen a 1,646 percent spike in calls. On one day, the line soared to more than 1,000 callers with 130 people in queue.
Greater Twin Cities United Way is seeing “a huge increase in calls. A lot of that is driven by people unable to go to work, unable to leave their homes,” said Smith Jones.
People calling the suicide hotline have also begun to reference ICE, she said.
Operators of a second hotline report a similar trend.
HOME Line, a hotline for tenants in Minnesota, has so far received more than 60 calls specifically referencing immigration enforcement, said co-executive director Eric Hauge. He said he expects that number to climb.
Though a majority are dialed from the Twin Cities counties, HOME Line has received these calls from all over the state. Most are from families with children at home.
Data shared by HOME Line shows the number one inquiry from those callers is about financial aid due to the loss of income, either because the caller fears going to work because of ICE, or because the caller relies on the income of someone taken by ICE.
HOME Line has received 317 requests for financial aid since the start of December, when the federal government’s “Operation Metro Surge” began. That’s a 72 percent increase from the same window last year.
HOME Line also tracks statewide eviction numbers. The number filed so far this year is slightly lower than the same period last year. Hauge said it may be too soon to see the impact of ICE on evictions, which aren’t filed immediately after nonpayment.
Hauge said HOME Line supports an eviction moratorium paired with low-barrier access to rental assistance. His is among a growing number of legal and advocacy groups urging the state to intervene.
“There was a lot of direction during the pandemic around how to keep yourself safe and then the governor instituted the eviction moratorium,” Hauge said. “People were fearful of leaving their home because of public health concerns. Now, we’re hearing people haven’t left their home because they think they’re going to get abducted or shot.”
State senator: “People should not be evicted when we are under occupation.”
More than 60 local groups have signed onto a letter calling for the governor to declare a state of emergency and enact an eviction moratorium, paired with rental assistance — including the Minnesota Immigrant Rights Action Committee and the unions that represent Minneapolis and St. Paul teachers.
Both the Minneapolis and St. Paul city councils have also passed resolutions calling on Gov. Tim Walz to issue a statewide eviction moratorium.
Through tears at a recent press conference, City Council member Jason Chavez thanked Minneapolis residents who have been driving each others’ children to school, patrolling neighborhoods, delivering groceries and donating rental assistance to help their immigrant neighbors. But, he said, it’s time for the local government to step up.
“Stop being on the sideline,” he said.
The governor’s office did not respond to an inquiry from MPR News about the possibility of an eviction moratorium.
Sen. Lindsey Port, DFL-Burnsville, who chairs the Housing and Homelessness Prevention Committee, said she agrees with the “underlying call of the moratorium.” But, she said, “I think there are practical challenges to an eviction moratorium in the way that it has existed before,” including the absence of pandemic emergency funds from the federal government.
“People should not be evicted when we are under occupation, which is what is happening in the state of Minnesota right now,” said Port, who plans to introduce an emergency rental assistance bill when the legislative session begins next month.
There were more than 1,100 eviction filings served to renters across the state so far this month, according to HOME Line.
For now, Daisy Banuelos Alonzo and her son are still in their two-bedroom apartment. Her landlord took mercy on the family, giving Banuelos Alonzo two months to get her footing and apply for rental assistance.
It’s much-needed breathing room while she struggles to process what happened to her.
“It's hard seeing all these videos. It's hard going outside,” she said. “And you know, the only person that actually made me feel protected, the only person that actually made me feel like I'm strong, is locked up.”
She said sometimes she forgets to eat until her 6-year-old tells her that he’s hungry. She suffers from nightmares that transport her back to the car where her husband was taken.
Her son asks her how they will save “Tommy,” which is the main thing she thinks about, when she can pull her thoughts together at all.
Then, she remembers the bills.
If you or someone you know is in crisis or needs immediate mental health support, call or text 988 to reach the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.
