This week, Kat McKinney reported on the fear and uncertainty some Trinity students are facing under Trump’s new immigration policies. The interviews included in this story make it clear that these policies are already profoundly affecting students and our community is hurting.
I want so badly to be able to do something about it. To tell Trump about the immigrants I’ve met while volunteering at citizenship clinics, the business owners, janitors and high school students, the church-goers and PTO members, the couple from El Salvador fleeing civil war, the college student from Mexico who has only ever known the United States, and yes, even those (very few) with criminal records, who have made mistakes like so many people do.
I wish he would sit down with them, an hour at a time, like I have, and listen to their stories. Perhaps then he could understand that these are people, not aliens, who are so very achingly human.
If that didn’t work, I would remind him that 30.3% of businesses in San Antonio are run by immigrants, without whom our city would be devastated. I would remind him of the hundreds of millions of tax dollars immigrants pay in San Antonio, as well as the many other ways they help fund our city and its residents.
If he would listen, I would even tell him about my own great-grandparents who emigrated from Ireland. As a Protestant and Catholic couple, they came to the United States to be together and escape the religious tensions of their homeland. I would attempt to appeal to his own family’s relatively recent history of immigration, which made possible his rise to power and fame.
I could continue on and on recounting the immigrant history of our nation. Sadly, these are all arguments he has heard before and continues to ignore.
When words fail us, it is time for us, especially those of us who are in positions of privilege, to take action to protect each other and the communities we have created. In the worst situations, we need to bear witness — to each other and to the injustices perpetrated around us.
If mass deportation efforts come to our city, we cannot let our friends, neighbors and colleagues disappear without a trace. We need to remember them, honor the lives they led here and the ways they contributed to our community. We need to hold close and support their family members who remain here, and we need to do what we can to keep a record.
Silence erases both people and their histories. We know this, and we have seen this happen. Creating a record of any kind is an act of survival.
There are many ways to keep a record. I have seen a lot of resources about how to film ICE circulating on social media. If you are in a position to do so, video is a great way to document what is happening around you. I recommend that you review witness.org’s guide to documenting these interactions first, in order to do so in a way that protects your safety and the identity of anyone else who may be at risk.
Documentation doesn’t have to mean video. Whatever form of documentation you are able to provide can prove useful. Audio recordings, written descriptions, social media posts and eyewitness testimony can all assist journalists, advocates, lawyers, scholars and even family members in piecing together details about what happened to someone and their current location. The more documentation you can place in trusted hands, the better.
If there is a local media outlet you trust, including (we hope) the Trinitonian, reach out and share what you know. You may be able to provide valuable information to confirm the time and location of arrests, publicize these details and/or help family members locate a potential site at which their loved ones are being detained. Publicizing these incidents, especially over social media, can help vulnerable groups plan for their safety.
We really have no idea what is to come. It could easily turn out that rumors, talk and promises are just that. Or, most likely, we might see something in between business as usual and massive deportations. I’m not going to tell you to not be alarmed — be whatever level of alarm feels most appropriate to you — but in sharing this information and these resources I hope you feel more empowered and prepared for any scenario.
San Antonio is a city of immigrants, and I fear what will happen to our city and our campus if we lose them. At the same time, I remain hopeful that come what may, we will be there for each other, and we will remember.
Norma Cantu • Feb 1, 2025 at 11:56 pm
Thank you!