At 81 years old, I was cruising Milpas looking for ICE. Shocked and riveted by Minneapolis, I wanted to see for myself what ICE was all about in our community. The name everyone gave me was 805 UndocuFund. I arrived at a parking lot in Santa Barbara at six in the morning with other newbies. Almost everyone was half my age and Anglo, our Latino neighbors afraid to go on the streets.
The first big disconnect: What does it mean that I cannot spot federal enforcement vehicles, why are they hiding?
I learned: If the windows are tinted, no morning condensation on the SUV, it might be ICE. If men wearing thrift-store camo, no IDs, carrying guns, masks, dark glasses are in the car, you have undoubtedly found ICE.