October 5, 2026 will mark 16 months since ICE raids began in Los Angeles, changing the daily lives of the community we serve, but also the lives of so many others. The current administration’s immigration enforcement actions have profoundly changed our communities, as families face the fear and uncertainty of loved ones, neighbors, and friends being detained. As a country, we can’t unsee what life has become in the United States.
People have been taken without explanation—some undocumented, some American citizens. Detention centers have been built despite communities rallying against them, some even built over alligator-infested waters. People are being held in these spaces under terrible, inhumane conditions.
Women have lost their husbands. Men have lost their wives. Children have been left without their parents. Families have been completely changed by these actions.
It’s been a tough 16 months, and I have to be honest: I’m feeling it.
But it’s not just me. I know so many of us who serve this community—whose needs have exponentially grown and continue to grow—are feeling the burnout.
There are fewer volunteers out on the streets supporting communities targeted by ICE, and I understand why. It feels like there is so much happening in every community. Everyone is being affected in one way or another: layoffs, the rising cost of everything, and the erosion of various infrastructures whose purpose has been to protect the vulnerable and protect our constitutional rights, including journalism.
With fewer and fewer media outlets reporting on what is actually happening on the ground, it becomes harder to know what is really going on.
So, let me share with you just a few of the things that we in community have seen through the various independent news outlets reporting on ICE incidents:
- ICE Data Removal: ICE removed records of individuals who have final orders of removal from the Online Detainee Locator System, making it more difficult for families and lawyers to track them.
- Scale: Data from the Deportation Data Project showed that nearly 16,000 people booked into detention in July alone had final removal orders, accounting for more than a third of overall bookings.
- Miscarriage Data: U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement stopped tracking and recording data on miscarriages among detained pregnant women and teenagers after October 3, 2025, according to reporting by Democracy Now.
- The Change: ICE stopped publicly listing detainees who have final deportation orders in its online database.
- Communication Restrictions: According to reports from the Washington Post and the Associated Press, immigration officers and staff were instructed not to disclose the locations of some of these detainees to family members or attorneys over the phone.
- Exceptions: The practice does not apply to certain facilities—including the detention facility in Adelanto, California, and temporary holding locations in Minneapolis, New York City, and suburban Chicago—where federal judges have ordered ICE to maintain prompt online listings because of ongoing litigation.
The Impact
Immigration lawyers and advocates have raised serious concerns about what this means for families and for people trying to navigate the legal system. When families and attorneys cannot locate someone who has been detained, communication becomes more difficult. It can disrupt the attorney-client relationship and make it much harder to pursue last-minute legal appeals or habeas petitions.
Families are often left not knowing whether their loved one has been transferred, remains in detention, or has already been deported.
Imagine not knowing where your husband is.
Not knowing where your wife is.
Not knowing where your parent is.
Not knowing where your child is.
That uncertainty alone is devastating.
And still we rise.
Yes. We do.
That’s the thing about communities who have had to fight for their right to exist: we’ve become pros.
Because if you look at American history, you will see these stories play out over and over again.
Whether the fight has been based on race, ethnicity, gender, disability, or other identities and experiences, communities have worked—and continue to work—hard to ensure equity.
The women’s suffrage movement lasted 72 years before women secured the constitutional right to vote (exception: Native American Women were granted the right to vote in 1924 ).
The Civil Rights Movement spanned decades, with the Civil Rights Act taking 386 days to move through Congress before it was signed into law.
The disability rights movement also spanned decades, culminating in the Americans with Disabilities Act, which took two years to become law after it was introduced.
And if there is one thing history has taught us, it is this:
Change is slow, and it is never easy—but it is always worth it.
So yes, the helpers are tired.
I am tired.
Many of us are tired.
But this is a marathon, not a sprint.
Nothing rings truer than what Martin Luther King Jr. said:
“Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable… Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals.”
Or, as Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg shared, “Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time.”
So, each day, we rise knowing that the most important thing we can do—even when we’re tired, even when it’s messy, even when it feels hopeless—is show up. To remind people that we are still here, and that we will continue to be here, moving our world toward equity, compassion, and kindness—one step at a time, one day at a time, one year at a time.
And if you’re not sure how to help, I encourage you to find ways to support the helpers.
Support the organizations that are still showing up. Support the people who are putting their boots on the ground. Volunteer when you can. Donate when you can. Share accurate information. Check in on the people doing this work. Help them rest. Help them keep going.
Because the helpers need help, too.
We cannot do this work alone, and we were never meant to.
So, find a way to show up in a way that feels authentic to you. It doesn’t have to look like everyone else’s way. But whatever you can do, do it.
One step at a time.
One day at a time.
One year at a time.
And still, we rise.
In partnership,
Diana Z. Pinto
Executive Director