ICE Raids Create Impossible Choice for Los Angeles Immigrants: Work and Risk Arrest or Stay Home and Face Eviction
When federal immigration officers descended upon Los Angeles in June to execute mass deportations, Magda's livelihood evaporated almost instantly. For years, she had sustained her family by selling traditional Guatemalan cuisine outside the Guatemalan consulate in the Frogtown neighborhood. However, as rumors circulated about "la migra" apprehending individuals from the streets and transporting them to distant detention facilities, Magda's clientele retreated indoors. Ultimately, the minimal earnings she managed to secure no longer outweighed the peril of potential abduction, prompting her to remain at home as well. Magda, who requested identification by her first name only, received her initial eviction notice in July. By the time the court summons arrived in October, she had abandoned all hope.
Legal Representation Gap and Self-Deportation
Individuals confronting eviction in Los Angeles lack entitlement to legal counsel, and despite contacting numerous agencies and organizations for aid, Magda perceived she had encountered an impasse. After residing in Los Angeles for thirteen years, she voluntarily returned to Guatemala. Los Angeles County, where nearly half the population identifies as Latino, constitutes a crucial component of the Trump administration's extensive deportation strategy. Arbitrary arrests, detentions, and deportations have persisted relentlessly since federal immigration officers were stationed there in June, even as Immigration and Customs Enforcement and Customs and Border Patrol have expanded operations to additional urban centers.
In September, the Supreme Court sanctioned federal agents' methodology of employing mobile patrols to detain people based on racial characteristics, spoken language, and workplace locations—rendering Spanish-speaking street vendors and day laborers especially susceptible to detention and deportation. Similar to numerous progressive municipalities targeted by the Trump administration with rigorous immigration enforcement, Los Angeles harbors some of the nation's most exorbitant housing expenses, compelling immigrant laborers to confront an untenable dilemma: venture to work and risk apprehension, or remain home and risk eviction.
"An eviction notice on the door is sometimes equal to a deportation," stated Lucy Briggs, a participant in The Rent Brigade, a coalition of activists combating exploitative landlords in Los Angeles, during an interview. "If you're undocumented, you're not necessarily going to want to go to court to fight an eviction," she elaborated, referencing apprehension about entering government edifices, linguistic obstacles, and availability of legal assistance.Political Inaction and Failed Protective Measures
Compelling individuals to self-deport, or willingly depart the United States, "is enabling what the Trump administration is hoping to see in Los Angeles—that immigrants are leaving, the city is in a state of crisis, there's even more instability, precarity and chaos," articulated Chelsea Kirk, another Rent Brigade member and Los Angeles Tenants Union organizer, in an interview. The Trump administration has leveraged dread of arrest, severe detention circumstances, and even monetary inducements to persuade immigrants to exit independently. Departing the United States without resolving outstanding immigration petitions may result in future reentry prohibitions, even for those who originally fled their native countries for safety.
Elected officials in Los Angeles have conveyed nearly unanimous disapproval of ICE raids within their city. Nevertheless, they have consistently declined to implement one of the limited actions within their jurisdiction to substantially shield Angelenos from ICE: establishing eviction safeguards. Precedent exists for county authorities complicating eviction processes during emergencies. The Los Angeles Board of Supervisors has previously enacted provisional eviction constraints for individuals affected by the COVID-19 pandemic and the January 2025 wildfires.
For months, an alliance of grassroots organizations named Evict ICE Not Us has petitioned the board to classify immigration raids as a concern similarly impairing people's capacity to retain housing. Following initial advocacy for an absolute eviction moratorium, the coalition endorsed a compromise proposal presented by Supervisor Lindsey Horvath, which would have elevated the monetary sum a tenant must owe to qualify for eviction to three months of Fair Market Rent, determined yearly by the federal government.
Board Rejection and Public Outcry
A comparable regulation applicable solely to a minor segment of Los Angeles had been ratified earlier that month—yet when Horvath's county-wide proposal reached a vote the subsequent week, not one board member supported it, exposing numerous Los Angeles County inhabitants to eviction for owing any rent amount. The vote occurred during a routine public assembly, which, as customary, commenced with a recorded land acknowledgment. So many attendees arrived to advocate for eviction protections that public commentary on the measure was limited to one hour. Hundreds also submitted written statements.
"We are living in a real emergency. Raids, harassment from the federal government, constant fear in our communities. This feels like terrorism. Our families are living with anguish every single day," declared a man named Antonio, a Community Power Collective member, in Spanish via an interpreter. "Housing is a right, it's not a privilege. It should not depend on one's zip code."Landlords and apartment association representatives implored board members to refrain from increasing the eviction debt threshold, labeling the measure "legalized theft." Following one hour of predominantly supportive public commentary, Horvath proposed initiating a vote. "Is there a second?" inquired board chair Hilda Solis. The chamber grew silent. The motion collapsed. "COWARDS! COWARDS! COWARDS!" chanted public attendees before supervisors exited the room and proceeded with a closed session.
Organizing Efforts and Escalating Crisis
That gathering culminated a months-long initiative by organizers to pressure county officials to shield those endangered by ICE raids from eviction, and consequently, self-deportation. "ICE raids are a matter of life and death," LATU organizer Lupita Limón Corrales informed HuffPost. "We have seen folks here in LA chased to their deaths in response to an ICE raid. ICE is occupying hospitals—people face intimidation just going to get basic medical care. We shouldn't wait until the death count hits a certain number for us to take action. We should be preemptively protecting people."
Tenant organizers commenced receiving reports from immigrant members about rental affordability issues merely weeks after federal raids began in Los Angeles. Some were too frightened to depart their residences for employment. Others had lost their household's primary wage earner to arrest, detention, or deportation. Even those who hazarded working discovered, like Magda, that their patrons were minimizing outdoor exposure and possessed limited spending capacity.
LATU had already coordinated ICE defense centers, food distribution, and fundraising to purchase vendors' merchandise so they could afford missed workdays. However, they rapidly acknowledged that necessity surpassed any fundraising campaign's capacity, and they united around a drive for a county-wide eviction moratorium. Their inaugural significant action transpired in July, when they conducted a rally featuring an ICE piñata outside the board meeting venue before interrupting their weekly session to demand an eviction moratorium.
Research Reveals Deepening Hardship
Tenant rights organizers sensed the board was underestimating the crisis magnitude and commenced compiling data to demonstrate the urgent requirement for eviction protections. "We knew that many people were being impacted," Kirk remarked. "We just needed evidence. So we put our research skills to use and began surveying immigrant renters."
In August, The Rent Brigade polled 120 immigrant renters across Los Angeles County and discovered their weekly incomes had diminished by an average of 62% since raids commenced in June. Twenty-eight percent of respondents indicated they owed landlords exceeding one month's rent, and 71% reported returning to work due to eviction anxiety, despite feeling unsafe. Organizers discussed The Rent Brigade's findings during public commentary at the board's September 16 meeting, and the board voted to authorize $20 million in rent relief and examine eviction moratorium possibilities.
The subsequent month, county supervisors approved a Proclamation of Local Emergency for Federal Immigration Actions, seemingly establishing groundwork for board endorsement of county-wide eviction protections. By the time county supervisors passed rent relief and consented to "explore" an eviction moratorium, Magda and her family existed without electricity, reliant on friends and neighbors for sustenance.
Personal Toll and Systemic Failure
She had migrated to the United States seeking employment and to furnish her children and grandchildren with enhanced prospects. Before last summer, "we didn't have any problems," she recounted in an interview. "From what we sold, we were able to cover our expenses. We paid our rent, we were able to afford a car payment." But as ICE raids convulsed the city, her income deficiency and accumulating rent debt generated persistent stress. "I spent hours on the phone trying to find the solution to my rent. If I had found help, or a solution to pay my rent, I might not have left," Magda confessed. "But I didn't find help anywhere, and I was worried about how the rent was piling up month after month, and I couldn't pay."
Applications for the rent relief sanctioned by county supervisors would not commence until December—and even then, only landlords could initiate the process. Tenant organizers communicated Magda's escalating crisis and other tenants contemplating self-deportation following rental arrears to county supervisors and their staff. They attempted to convey the immediacy of a moratorium as a provisional protective measure.
In November and December, Rent Brigade surveyed an extra 112 immigrant tenants and identified an expanding crisis. One in seven respondents reported receiving an eviction notice since June, and 57% stated they were considering self-deportation due to rental unaffordability. The coalition of organizers additionally assembled a legal memorandum containing policy suggestions and analysis of diverse eviction protection forms. Still, the Board of Supervisors delayed, adjourning for December holidays without addressing evictions.
Limited Protections and Continued Vulnerability
In January, tenant organizers hosted a rent relief clinic in Huntington Park and queried attendees with rental debt whether their landlords had sought rent relief through the county-approved program. Seventy-eight percent of surveyed individuals indicated their landlords had not applied. Finally, on February 3, eight months into the raids, the board enacted restricted eviction protections—but exclusively for tenants inhabiting unincorporated Los Angeles County sectors. The motion, introduced by Supervisors Hahn and Solis, raised the monetary amount tenants must owe for eviction qualification to two months of Fair Market Rent.
One week later, despite appeals from hundreds of Angelenos, the board rejected the endeavor to extend protections county-wide. Horvath communicated via email that she would "continue pushing for strong, practical protections that keep families housed and safeguard our most vulnerable residents." The remaining four county supervisors—Solis, Hahn, Holly Mitchell, and Kathryn Barger—provided no commentary.
In an interview preceding the vote, Magda expressed that restarting life in Guatemala had proven challenging for her and her relatives. She aspired elected officials would assist in shielding individuals in her circumstances from necessitating United States departure. "It's sad because all of the people who have emigrated to the United States do so to seek a better future, to work, to support their families, not to hide. You don't go there to steal, you go there to work," she affirmed. "To work and pay taxes, to help move the country forward—that's all we want."
