by Carolyn Jones | CalMatters

E., a mother of three in Salinas, is extra careful when she takes her kids to school. She switches up her routes, leaves at different times, and is always on the lookout for immigration agents, especially during pick-ups and drop-offs.

President Donald Trump’s threat of mass deportations is never far from her mind, but it’s not her own welfare she’s concerned about.

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“I’m not worried about going back to Mexico. I’m afraid of being separated from my kids,” said E., who asked not to be identified because she and her husband’s immigration status puts them at risk of being deported. “My worst fear is that my 6-year-old will end up in a camp. … I don’t know what I would do.”

Although there have been few, if any, reports of immigration arrests at or near schools recently, E. and countless other parents are gripped with fear that if they go to the store, work or school, they’ll never see their families again. The fear stems from Trump’s heated anti-immigrant rhetoric, as well as his recent removal of schools, hospitals, courts and other “sensitive locations” as safe zones for undocumented immigrants.

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In Salinas, known as “the salad bowl of the world” for its rich agricultural fields, fear is everywhere. Although there have been no raids since the inauguration, rumors about ICE sweeps abound. At schools, there’s a heightened sense of awareness. Office staff know to ask immigration agents for judicial warrants and to immediately alert the superintendent. Volunteers walk students home from school, so parents don’t have to risk going outside.

“This is an immigrant city, and just the threat is enough to scare people,” said Mary Duan, spokesperson for Salinas City Elementary School District. “The specter of deportation is driving people underground.”

Vegetable fields — tidy, bright green rows of lettuce, broccoli, spinach and other crops — stretch miles across the valley, from the outskirts of town to the foothills of the nearby Gabilan and Sierra de Salinas ranges. Packing plants and nurseries dot the edges of the city.

Schools have always played a central role in Salinas. But in the past few months, that role has expanded, as schools have reassured parents, provided information and comforted anxious children. The district has trained office staff to ask for judicial — not administrative — warrants from immigration agents if they come on campus. It’s considering expanding its virtual academies, like those that operated during COVID, for children whose parents feel safer keeping them home. And it’s been taking extra steps to make students feel welcome and safe on campus.

“We want our schools to be places of joy, connection and belonging,” said Superintendent Rebecca Andrade. “The unknown is what causes anxiety. So we try to stay focused on our role, which is educating and supporting students.”

From the onion fields to the classroom

It helps that many teachers, counselors and other school staff grew up in the area and themselves come from undocumented families. They know what it’s like to pick lettuce on chilly August mornings, hear the cries of “la migra” when immigration agents are nearby, and live with the constant knowledge that friends or family members could be deported.

Oscar Ramos, a second grade teacher at Sherwood Elementary, came from Jalisco, Mexico to Hollister, about 30 miles northwest of Salinas, when he was 4 years old with his family. By the time he was 8, he was picking onions and garlic with his family, working 10-hour days throughout the summers. He remembers when, in the 1980s, his babysitter was arrested at the labor camp where his family lived.

“There was a knock at the door, and they just took her. There was no warning,” Ramos recalled. “I was 6 years old. I never saw her again.”

His own parents were never arrested, but he knows all too well the fear children experience when they think they might not see their parents again. In his classroom, the topic comes up daily, despite his efforts to keep his students focused on schoolwork.

“When I read them stories, they’d make random comments about their pets or their friends or what they’re doing this weekend,” Ramos said. “Now, they talk about ICE. ‘My parents said we can’t go to Walmart because that’s where they’ll pick you up.’ ‘I got sick but we couldn’t go to the hospital because immigration might be there.’ There’s just so much fear.”

Although immigration raids have always been part of life in Salinas, “this time feels different,” Ramos said. “The mood seems more hateful, unpredictable. How far will (Trump) go? How far will he push the limits? Will he send us back? Put us in giant prisons? Separate families? It seems like he doesn’t care. We see it and we feel it.”

That unpredictability has left even those with legal status on edge. Stories abound about citizens being caught in immigration sweeps and detained or sent to Mexico. People worry about losing their visas, or about loved ones getting wrongfully arrested.

‘I could lose everything’

Cecilia, 28, came to the U.S. from Mexico at age 2, with her mother and sister. She has legal status through the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program and works in a family resource center for immigrants. When she can afford to, she takes classes at Hartnell Community College in hopes of earning a degree in accounting or business. With a knack for math, she hopes to someday work in a payroll office.

Everyone in her family has visas, but she now worries that those could be taken away.

“I never used to carry my DACA papers, but since the election I always do,” said Cecilia, who asked that her full name not be used because she fears her DACA status may be revoked. “If I lose my visa, I would lose my job, I could lose everything. I know other people have it way worse, but it’s still scary.”

Ismael Del Real, a counselor at Los Padres Elementary School, is busy these days. There’s a steady stream of students who visit the “calming corner” in his office, seeking a moment’s escape from their anxiety. He tells them to take deep breaths, count to 10, draw, squeeze a stress ball, talk about their fears.

But mostly, he just listens.

“It’s not about having the perfect words, because there’s nothing perfect about any of this,” said Del Real, who grew up in Salinas and whose parents are immigrants from Mexico. “I just try to be there for them. I tell them, ‘You’re right, this is scary, and it makes sense to feel anxious.’”

Every day, teachers ask each of the school’s 680 students to pick an emoji to describe their mood. Until recently, nearly all the children picked “happy.” Now, an increasing number pick “sad” or “angry.” Del Real visits with these students personally and tries to offer comfort and coping strategies.

Sometimes, it’s parents who show up at his office, located in a tidy portable next to the school garden. The walls are adorned with inspirational slogans in Spanish, such as “No hay mal que bien no venga,” or “Every cloud has a silver lining”, and the furniture is a cheerful bright blue.

He advises them to keep a supply of red cards that outline their rights to immigration officials, go to community events to get reliable information about what’s happening and what resources are available, and have a plan. Decide who will pick up the children if the parent is arrested, and give the school that person’s phone number.

In some ways, the fear of deportation has brought families together, and motivated them to speak out — even anonymously. During a recent protest, more than 200 parents at Los Padres kept their children home from school as a show of solidarity. And they are quick to help each other and support those who need assistance, he said.

“I can’t imagine what these parents are going through. These are humble people who work hard, and they just want what’s best for their kids,” Del Real said. “I just want them to have a sense of peace.”

Help for families

At Los Padres, well over half of the students are immigrants or the children of immigrants. Vice Principal Christina Perez, who grew up in Salinas, knows exactly the hardships those families face. Her parents were immigrants from Michoacan, Mexico, and her father, who didn’t have legal status in the U.S., was deported several times when Perez was a child.

Like all schools in the district, Los Padres offers a slew of resources for immigrant families. The district operates four centers for families to get food, clothing and other supplies, counseling, referrals for legal advice and other needs. Nearly 4,000 families visit the centers annually.

Perez adds a personal touch, reaching out directly to parents who are worried about being separated from their children. Her message is that the school will do everything in its power to protect students and ensure they feel safe and comfortable.

“I can imagine what these families are going through. It’s ugly to live in that fear. You’re afraid to go to work, afraid to go to school, you wonder how you’ll support your family,” she said. “That was my family, years ago. You think things are going to get better, but here we are.”

E., the Salinas mother of three, said she tries to protect her children from the news, but they overhear snippets and know that their parents are at risk. Her husband supports the family by working at a nursery, and she worries about their livelihood if he gets detained.“I’m doing the best I can,” she said. “But right now it feels hopeless.”