Local immigrants describe fear, caution

NORWALK — While images of mass protests, masked federal agents and chaotic immigration raids have dominated national news coverage from cities like Minneapolis and Chicago, immigrant residents in northwest Ohio say the effects are being felt much closer to home. Over the past several weeks, the Norwalk Reflector interviewed multiple residents in Huron, Erie and Ottawa counties about how the intensifying national immigration crackdown has changed their daily lives. Those interviewed ranged from undocumented workers to legal permanent residents and U.S. citizens who said they have been questioned, detained or fear being targeted because of their appearance or accent. Most of those interviewed requested anonymity for fear of retaliation, and will be identified in this story under pseudonyms. Only their age, immigration status and continent of birth are disclosed. Fear even among the legally present "Anna," 23, is from Europe and works at a resort hotel on a temporary work visa. Anna said she does not believe she would be detained if questioned by immigration authorities but worries about being stopped in the first place. "I'm legal. I would show them my documents," she said. "But I worry my accent will give them a reason to talk to me. If I can, I will just be quiet." Anna came to the area last September and plans to stay for eight months, eventually spending a month traveling around the United States. "I will stay in Ohio until May, then I will go see California and Florida," she said. "I do sometimes think there could be a problem but I don't think about it too much." Anna said she has always planned to return to her home country when her visa expires, but recent events have made everyday interactions feel more dangerous. She referenced the recent shooting death of Renee Good by federal agents in Minneapolis during a law-enforcement encounter, saying it has changed how safe she feels interacting with authorities. "That made everything feel more real," she said. "Now I'm more afraid of any (interaction) than I was before." Citizens and permanent residents also uneasy "Diane," 38, is an American citizen and Huron County resident who identifies as Native American and a person of color. Despite carrying a tribal identification card and Ohio driver's license, she said she fears being targeted. "I'm worried about how brown people are being picked up," she said. "I have my tribal card, but I shouldn't have to worry about proving who I am." Diane gave the example of four Oglala Sioux tribe members, who are U.S. citizens, who were detained by ICE in Minneapolis recently. "Those guys showed their tribal cards and Minnesota ID and were still picked up," she said. "Our ancestors were taken away like that and we say 'never again,'" she said. Although fears of being unlawfully detained by ICE or Border Patrol are in the front of her mind, she says that isn't the darkest fear she has. Like others interviewed, she worried about criminals impersonating an ICE agent and bundling her into a vehicle for a more nefarious purpose. "If some dudes in masks and no badges grab me and put me in a car, I could just disappear and everyone would just assume it was ICE and I was deported," she said. For "Ayaka," a permanent resident originally from Asia, the fear has been more subtle but persistent. She has a Green Card and is married to an American citizen. "I never thought I would feel this way," she said. "People were always polite and nice, but lately I see more people looking at me differently." Watching national coverage of immigration raids has raised difficult questions. "What do I say to people yelling a bunch of different things?" she asked. "It's a bit scary, I might not (know) what to do and do the wrong thing and get hurt." Ayaka said she and her friends, all of whom are legally present, have made legal arrangements to take custody of one another's children if something were to happen. "It's sad we have to think like this," she said. Then, echoing Diane's remarks, Ayaka stated, "Also, how do we know if it's really agents or someone bad trying to abduct us?" Undocumented workers retreating from public life "Jorge," 28, is an undocumented laborer from Central America who previously held Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA, status. The federal program, which is the subject of an ongoing legal battle, lets eligible young immigrants live and work in the U.S. with temporary protection from deportation. "I came here when I was three (years old)," he said. "I haven't been anywhere else." Jorge said he currently has immigration court hearings every three months but is now afraid to attend. "They're saying we might get arrested there too," he said. "I'm trying to do the right thing, but what can I do?" Once able to work legally and pursue a long-term path forward, Jorge now avoids job sites and limits his movements. "Sometimes I think about skipping my next court date and just staying inside," he said. "I like Ohio. I grew up in Cleveland. My whole life is here." Business owners feeling the impact For immigrant business owners, the fear is already showing up in lost revenue. "Maria," 64, owns a Latin grocery store and has lived in the United States for four decades. "I have lost almost all of my customers," she said. "There was someone taken from in front of the store I work at, and now people are afraid to come here." Maria said she arrived in the U.S. at age 14 and lived in California before moving to Ohio. "It was very hard, but I was never scared like this," she said. "What if they don't believe my ID card?" Another business owner, "Jen," 52, is a Green Card holder from Asia who operates a business in Huron County. She said recent events have changed how she views her community. "I come from what people here call a 's---hole country,' but at least the 'police' in my country don't wear masks," she said. Jen said the current climate has revealed divisions she hadn't previously noticed. "I have learned who my real friends are and who has hate hidden away," she said. "I have two (young) grandchildren, and this makes me afraid for (their) future (here)." For some, these fears were reinforced by events already occurring in the area, challenging the belief that immigration enforcement actions affect only distant large cities or border communities. It happens here, too Last June, Emerson Ayala, a 43-year-old U.S. citizen, was detained by federal agents during a Border Patrol operation in Portage Township in Ottawa County. Ayala's arrest and subsequent criminal charges were published in the newspaper at the time, and Ayala's information was publicized then due to his arrest and court case. Ayala was at a local worksite when agents began stopping workers. As he recorded the scene on his phone, a Border Patrol agent, Eric Beard, asked him, "Are you illegal?" and took him into custody. Ayala was transported to the Port Clinton Border Patrol facility and later held in the Ottawa County jail. He was initially charged with assaulting a federal officer, a felony, based on the government's account of the encounter. Prosecutors later reduced the original charge to resisting arrest and then asked a judge to dismiss all charges after Border Patrol did not provide evidence to support the federal or local charges. The court approved the motion to dismiss, closing the case and freeing Ayala. Now, over seven months since he was cleared, he hasn't cleared mentally or physically. "They separated my shoulder and broke my rib and it still hurts," Ayala said. "I still go to therapy." He said the encounter has changed how he moves through daily life. "When I see police or ICE or Border Patrol, I get really nervous and on edge. It was never like this before," he said. Ayala, who has a civil lawsuit pending against the federal government, said the experience has left him cautious but determined. He said he wanted others who may find themselves confronted by federal agents to understand that violence only worsens the situation. "I don't want anyone to think they have to fight on the street and use violence," Ayala said. "Everyone needs to file lawsuits and beat them in court." He described coming to the United States as a moment of optimism and possibility. "When I first came to this country, I stood in New Jersey at my uncle's place and looked across the water and saw New York. It was so beautiful," Ayala said. "I built a business and a life here. I am a citizen." Looking back on his arrest and its aftermath, Ayala said the country he believed he was joining feels different now. "This isn't the same country we all wanted to be a part of," he said. "It's changing."