Last week, 25 year old Joan Sebastián Guerrero was murdered by ICE agents on his way to work. His wife and three year old daughter were in the vehicle — she wore Bluey pajamas.
Joan’s death marks the 11th fatal shooting by ICE agents in Trump’s second term. The 10th took place just days earlier in Houston, Texas. Lorenzo Salgado Araujo was 52 years old at the time of his death. He too had been on his way to work.
I caught a flight to Maine the day following Joan’s murder. It’s a state I’ve always wanted to visit. Last year, I’d plotted a road trip from DC to Acadia National Park in the fall with my dog, but scrapped the plans after breaking my knee. It’s a beautiful state. Quiet costal towns, lobster rolls on every menu, sweeping coastal views in the east and mountains rising in the west. Biddeford, Maine is charming and quaint, tucked just south of Portland. It’s a town where residents don’t look over their shoulders while walking down the street, where the bars close by midnight, and where a man was murdered.
Joan lost his life on Hill Street, a quiet residential road near his home. Upon my arrival, the hedges lining the corner had been decorated with flowers, cards, and Bluey toys for his young daughter. But most startling, his blood still stained the pavement where ICE agents had dragged his body from the car — not to provide emergency aid, but to handcuff him.
As I placed flowers along the vigil, I heard someone say, “oh no, there’s been another one in Florida.” 28 year old Juan Jairo Coronilla Duran had been struck and killed by a truck after fleeing ICE on foot. He was visiting Florida on a valid tourist visa, with a return ticket home.
I first got involved in politics in 2015 while living in Flint, Michigan at the height of the water crisis. The combination of my community being fed poison water and seeing a candidate with a different vision (Bernie Sanders) run for office pushed me into action. Over the past decade, I’ve traveled the country speaking with people from all walks of life, impacted by all variety of government failings. Nothing hit me like Maine.
It’s been a difficult year for me. In January, following the murders of Renee Good and Alex Pretti, I stepped back from political coverage. At the time I was still recovering from a knee fracture and unable to lend support on the ground in Minneapolis. From home, I found myself hitting a wall. While I focused my efforts sharing mutual aid resources, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we have crossed the point of no return. But that’s not what drove my despair — it was the lack of reaction. Sure, Minneapolis rose up and fought back. Where the fuck was everyone else?
Thousands have taken to the streets to protest in Maine — from the ICE detention center in Scarborough to outside Susan Collin’s office in Portland. On a weekday afternoon, a few dozen maintain a presence at Joan’s vigil, with several more protesters gathered at Mechanics Park down the road. By night, both are empty. We drove by around 11:00pm one evening. A lone woman remained at the park. As grateful as I am to her for her efforts, as we drove away I found myself angry that no one was by her side. These efforts have largely been protests of convenience — occupying parks and public spaces during comfortable hours after work. They will die off by the end of the month, just as they did at Delaney Hall in Newark.
This is not to discount the tireless efforts of on the ground organizers and community support groups. While in Maine, I was invited into the home of a local organizer who runs a mutual aid program for local immigrant communities. Her mother made us tea — she had spent 20 years in a refugee camp in Somalia before being allowed to immigrate to the United States. Today, she and her daughter aid immigrants struggling with food, housing, and of course, ICE.
At the same time, as a nation we have failed to rise to the moment. We are watching out neighbors die in our streets, walking past their blood on the ground, and going home to watch the next day’s horrors on our phones and TVs. Three innocent men were murdered at the hands of our government last week. What the fuck is anyone doing about it?
Inaction is no longer acceptable. Inaction is complicity. If you’ve read this far, I hope that means you share my frustrations, my anger, and my sorrow. So let me now pass on the tools you need to get active.
Find your people: Start by finding local community organizations near you. Even if their goals are not 100% aligned, think of them as your stepping stone. This is the best way to connect with local activists to take action. I recommend starting by finding your local chapters for the DSA, Working Families Party, and 50501. Local support organizations for immigrants are also rapidly mobilizing.
Talk to your people: Trust me, as a lifelong political nerd I know starting political conversations can be a buzzkill. It’s time to shed the fear of social awkwardness. Be the fucking buzzkill — people are being killed literally. Look out for the people in your circles who seem empathetic and begin pulling them in.
Support those doing the work: I don’t write this expecting you, dear reader, to travel the country alongside me to attend every breaking event. You don’t need to. Stay tuned with me as I share mutual aid resources along the way that you can support, such as Project Relief Maine, who are running ground support for the local immigrant community.
I don’t have all the answers — but I do have on the ground reporting skills and enough ADHD to consistently compile resources for you all. If you have your own advice to share for fighting back, drop it in my comments.
In the meantime, take care of each other. We’re in this together.
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