Jackie Ramirez has been acutely aware of her skin color throughout her life.
As a child, her experiences ranged from being affectionately called ‘morenita,’ meaning little brown girl, by the school crossing guard, to being referred to as ‘paisita’ by an uncle, which translates to country girl.
However, in the current climate of heightened immigration enforcement, her awareness of her racial identity has intensified.
In recent weeks, Southern California has witnessed a surge in immigration arrests, with agents reportedly conducting operations at car washes and targeting street vendors without warrants.
In one alarming incident, a Latino U.S. citizen was questioned about the hospital where he was born, further underscoring the anxiety surrounding immigration sweeps.
While the dangers associated with being Black — often referred to as ‘driving while Black’ — are well-documented, the recent immigration actions have illuminated the complex issues of race for Latinos as well.
Ramirez, who is a radio host for ‘The Cruz Show’ on Real 92.3, described the climate of fear among her community.
‘You’re scared to be brown,’ she stated, emphasizing how the current environment has made people wary of their racial identity.
Ramirez was born and raised in East Los Angeles and comes from a family rooted in Mexican heritage.
The Department of Homeland Security has denied allegations of racial profiling, with spokesperson Tricia McLaughlin calling these claims ‘disgusting and categorically FALSE.’
Despite the official denial, there remains a pervasive concern that those with darker skin are disproportionately targeted by immigration agents.
Many Latino parents are now cautioning their U.S. citizen children about the risks associated with their appearances.
Some even carry their passports as an added precaution, while workers at businesses in Santa Ana advise customers to ‘Se cuiden’ — or take care of yourselves — and to text loved ones upon arriving home safely.
Even those who are lighter-skinned are feeling the effects of this heightened scrutiny.
Franchesca Olivas, a 24-year-old from Hemet, recently drove two hours to attend a protest in downtown Los Angeles.
She shared that she often drives her father, who is fully Mexican, because he fears being stopped by authorities, while she navigates the world as a mixed-race individual.
Taylor Tieman, a South Bay lawyer who identifies as a white-passing Latina, expressed her fears on social media, stating, ‘To my brothers and sisters — I’m so sorry. This country is failing you.’
Nico Blitz, Ramirez’s fiancé and a Filipino American DJ, also recognized the cross-cultural ramifications of immigration raids.
‘Filipinos — your legal status doesn’t mean you’re not brown, especially in the eyes of ICE,’ he posted, highlighting the fact that the fight against racial profiling transcends ethnic lines.
Studies indicate that skin color continues to significantly impact the lives of many Latinos in the United States, often resulting in disadvantages such as lower income and poorer health outcomes.
A Pew Research Center survey revealed that 62% of U.S. Latinos believed their darker skin color hindered their opportunities for advancement.
Additionally, 57% reported that their skin color heavily influences their daily experiences, with nearly half expressing that racial discrimination is a significant issue in the country.
Amid former President Donald Trump’s immigration policies, the fear surrounding skin color has been compounded.
In January, reports emerged that Native Americans were being targeted by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents, prompting nine congressional Democrats to address the issue in a letter to Trump.
This letter condemned the harassment of tribal members, noting that many are U.S. citizens who should not be stopped based on their appearance.
For instance, a recent incident saw ICE agents mistakenly detain a deputy U.S. marshal in Tucson merely because he ‘fit the general description of a subject being sought by ICE.’
In the wake of intensified immigration enforcement in early June, L.A. County Supervisor Hilda Solis released a statement asserting that people were being targeted due to their skin color and occupations.
Solis, whose family has deep immigrant roots, voiced her concern, stating that ‘the attack is not merely on the immigrant community but on people of color.’
She highlighted the emotional toll this has taken on mixed-status families, expressing that many individuals are too frightened to go to work or send their children to school.
Solis recalled how, during the COVID pandemic, Asian individuals faced hostility due to their appearance, and now it seems that Latinos are facing similar scrutiny.
Martin Chairez, a minister from Santa Ana, recently took his sons to pray for the community near the National Guard troops posted outside the federal building in Orange County.
Arriving in the U.S. as a child, Chairez has experienced the complexities of immigration status firsthand.
Having benefited from the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, he has spent his life contributing to American society, yet the landscape for immigrants remains fraught with challenges.
Chairez pointed out the stark contrast in the treatment of asylum seekers, noting that individuals fleeing from Ukraine or Russia are not facing similar detentions as those from Central and South America.
‘It’s revealing that people from Central and South America are being targeted but people from Europe are not,’ he commented, questioning the inequity in the system.
He has also shared his fears about the conversations he will have with his biracial sons as they prepare to navigate a world where being Black or brown carries its own set of dangers.
Chairez acknowledged a shift in mindset for families like his, as the fear of being profiled extends beyond specific interactions with law enforcement.
This sentiment is echoed by Chelsea Salazar, a 23-year-old U.S. citizen and daughter of immigrants, who found herself anxious after hearing about a raid on the 91 Freeway.
Salazar, who battles anxiety, panicked when she realized she had forgotten her ID and passport at home.
Even as a citizen, she questioned whether authorities would believe her status in the event of an encounter.
Carlos Garcia Mateo, a 24-year-old Santa Ana resident, also shared his apprehensions.
With his parents recently obtaining their immigration documents after two decades, he expressed concern about racial profiling in his own community.
‘If I step out of my house, am I going to get racially profiled?’ he mused.
He drew parallels between the current situation and historical events during Nazi Germany, pointing out the dangers of capturing individuals based solely on their appearance.
On Father’s Day, over 50 community members gathered at Avocado Heights Park in the San Gabriel Valley for a march opposing deportations and immigration raids.
Participants arrived on horseback, in cars, and on foot, rallying under the sun for over three miles towards City Hall.
Signs with slogans reading ‘La Puente heat melts ICE’ and ‘I drink my horchata warm cuz I hate ICE!’ were held aloft as music filled the air.
Among the songs played was ‘Somos Más Americanos’ by Los Tigres del Norte, a powerful anthem about identity and belonging.
Ramirez and Blitz joined the procession, proudly displaying Mexican and American flags.
Blitz emphasized the importance of solidarity in the face of oppression, stating, ‘I need the Filipino community to realize we are brown too.
Regardless of our legal status, we remain vulnerable.’
As they reached La Puente City Hall, the atmosphere was charged with activism.
Organizers encouraged those present to register to vote and called attention to the groups targeted by immigration enforcement, which included many integral members of the community such as fruit vendors and car wash employees.
‘These are meaningful members of our community,’ said Samuel Brown-Vazquez, highlighting the unjust focus on individuals simply trying to earn a living.
The protest concluded with a rallying cry of ‘Sin miedo y con orgullo’ — Without fear and with pride.
As the crowd began to chant, ‘Sí se puede’ — Yes, we can — the collective spirit emphasized the ongoing struggle for justice among marginalized communities in America.
image source from：latimes
