Undocumented Migrants Anxious about Trump's Troops following Unrest
In the heart of greater Los Angeles lies Paramount, far from the glamour of Hollywood. Its broken streets are filled with simple houses, and its residents face numerous problems, often lacking valid documents and money.
Since last weekend, fear has gripped the predominantly Latin American community of Paramount, as rumors of a large-scale raid by the Trump administration spread. These whispers ignited protests in the West Coast metropolis, causing global attention.
Industrial Park's Uneasy Silence
Going back a few days, residents in Paramount enjoyed a day off, working on DIY projects. The local hardware store, located near the Los Angeles River, is usually bustling with day laborers, waiting to help with odd jobs for cash. However, things seemed different this Saturday, with several cars from US Border Patrol parked in the industrial park opposite the hardware store. This sight was unusual for Paramount, especially neighboring troubled Compton.
Internet rumors of a raid at the hardware store echoed media reports and eyewitness accounts of undercover operations across the country. The area soon filled with angry protesters. The ensuing riots left a burnt car, tossed Molotov cocktails, and damaged vehicles of the suspected ICE agents in their wake. The police responded with tear gas and rubber bullets.
The Department of Homeland Security later denied that there was a raid. But the violence contributed to Trump's controversial decision to send 4,000 National Guard troops to Los Angeles – and also to Paramount. For many, it was a provocation and an attempt at intimidation.
A City on Edge
Now, a few days after the chaos, the hardware store's parking lot seems uneventful. A young man, wearing a light blue cap of the local baseball team and a Nirvana band T-shirt, introduces himself as Joe. He claims to be the only one willing to talk openly about the events of the past few days.
People look suspicious and eye the stranger warily as he walks through the hardware store's lot. Joe says people are paranoid at the moment, eyeing informants everywhere. He lives in Compton, of Latin American descent, barely recognizing his neighborhood these days.
He doesn't condone the weekend's violence, but understands the emotional response to perceived injustice. The authorities are using heavy-handed tactics, and the courts aren't able to rein them in quickly enough, Joe contends. The Constitution may grant the country's promise of opportunities to all, he opines, but in reality, no one knows where they stand.
Many residents in Paramount have been living without valid documents, often for years or even decades. They typically come from Mexico and Central America, but increasingly also from Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean. They arrived as labor migrants, refugees, or overstayed expired visas. Today, around 10-11 million undocumented immigrants live in the U.S., with an estimated one million alone in Los Angeles.
The largest communities are found in California, Texas, Florida, New York, and Illinois. They work predominantly in sectors such as agriculture, construction, care, and hospitality – often under precarious conditions. Although they usually pay taxes, they are excluded from many public services. Politically, they exist between calls for isolation and promises of reform, but socially, they have long been part of American daily life: as parents, neighbors, workers – and in millions of cases: as the silent backbone of the economy.
Whose Security is the National Guard Protecting?
However, they receive no recognition from President Trump; instead, his administration has set a daily quota of 3,000 arrests of "illegals." Millions, he promised during his campaign, would be deported – regardless of whether they have children born in the U.S. with American citizenship. Trump accuses them of driving crime – a claim debunked but successful during his campaign.
Joe acknowledges the frustration in Paramount and other parts of the United States. "We're supposed to be a free country with all these rights. But in reality, you never know. People feel so helpless," he says. He fears that this is the model of how the world treats people. With a clenched fist, he looks at his phone – "Okay, call me, brother. I gotta go." And he disappears into the hardware store.
Just a few steps away, across the street, the gate to the industrial park stands open. Soldiers, guns at the ready, patrol the courtyard. Since Sunday morning, they've been here at the President's orders. According to media reports, they set up a local command center for future raids. The reporter can take photos, a soldier smirks, but don't ask questions – he has to protect something. And what? The soldier grins and remains silent.
In the midst of deepening tensions, Joe, a resident of Compton, expresses concerns about the increased presence of the National Guard in Paramount. He questions whose security they are meant to protect, as undocumented immigrants remain a sensitive and contentious issue in the politics and general news of the country. The daily raids for "illegals" under President Trump's administration have only contributed to a growing sense of fear and helplessness among immigrant communities, particularly those in Paramount.
