'A horrible decision': Domestic violence survivors hiding during ICE surge faced increase danger

As federal immigration enforcement ramped up earlier this year, many Minnesotans were living with a heightened sense of fear and uncertainty. Advocates say that fear extended beyond workplaces and schools, shaping how, or whether, survivors of domestic violence sought help.

Leaders at Esperanza United, a Minnesota-based organization supporting survivors of gender-based violence in Latino communities, say they saw significant changes in how people navigated safety during “Operation Metro Surge.”

Vivian Huelgo, president and CEO of Esperanza United, spoke with MPR News host Nina Moini about what survivors experienced during that time, and the stressors they still face now.

The following was edited for length and clarity. Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.

What were you hearing from survivors and families during the ICE surge?

Our sense of what we were seeing portrayed in the media and being discussed was so much about people staying home and, obviously, about the protests and the observers in the streets — but the impact behind closed doors, it was not documented.

Survivors were staying home, afraid to leave the house, afraid to go out, but often still remaining with their abusers in the home. They had to really make a horrible decision: To face danger at home or to face danger on the streets.

We have one program participant who told us that while, yes, she is still staying in the home, she now feels capable of taking out the trash. We had participants who were so fearful during that time that they weren't opening the door when we ourselves were delivering food.

Because domestic violence takes place within the home, often there is so much that wasn't documented about the experiences of survivors who were sheltering in place with their abusers.

How did losing access to school or work affect children and adults experiencing violence at home?

For children in that situation, being at school is a respite. It's a break from the abuse they might be witnessing. It's a way of staying connected to caregiving adults. It's a way of receiving access to support and food.

For survivors who are working, that is also a place where they can plan for their future, plan a way of safely leaving the relationship. But those ties were cut off for both children and adults during “Operation Metro Surge,” and it leads to a level of increased desperation and despondency.

How did your organization adjust to support people who felt they had to stay home, even when it wasn’t safe?

The safety planning that we do historically had to change a lot. Like I said, survivors did not even want to take out the trash. So we're talking about supporting survivors even when usual options are off the table, like going to court, filing a police report, things that are very common. Those things were no longer safely accessible, so sometimes it's just an ear to listen to provide support.

And the level of engagement that participants were doing in terms of calls to our crisis line was very different. They were not wanting to even share names. There was so much heightened anxiety about sharing or disclosing of information that could somehow be shared with government actors or ICE. And that that anxiety, I would say, still remains all this time later.

What are you hearing from people now, as they continue to recover from that period?

People lost employment. We have participants who were doing Uber, and they no longer feel safe or comfortable doing that. We have participants who lost babysitters during the occupation because sitters did not want Latino children coming to their home and drawing attention for targeting by ICE.

I think the level of hypervigilance is still present. They're afraid of still going back to courthouses, still going back and filing police reports. We know that courts are offering remote hearings, but survivors are not willing to engage in that way.

There's also a level of reflection of, “Am I safe in this country at all? Do I stay here? Do I leave? Do I raise my children here?”

Everything that's been sacrificed to build a life, to build a business, to build neighbors and communities — are we going to lose all of that if we don't have multiple forms of ID every time we step outside the door? It’s operating at an emotional existential crisis level as well.

How are you advising survivors when it comes to interacting with systems like courts or law enforcement?

It's always about offering those options, explaining the pros and cons of them. Obviously, our recommendation would be to keep your licenses, your passport, your documents, copies of everything. We’re still advising both our staff and our program participants to have multiple forms of ID when they travel, even when they come into our office.

But obviously, we understand very deeply and personally the kind of hypervigilance and anxiety and trauma that they have experienced. And that's still in place, even though the number of agents has diminished quite a bit.

If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, you can call Esperanza United’s 24-hour statewide bilingual hotline at 651-772-1611.

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