This is the second in our #WeProtectUs series, focused on the clients, attorneys, staff, and volunteers of Immigration Law & Justice of Northern Illinois (formerly Northern Illinois Justice for Our Neighbors).
ILJNI board member Nadia Kanhai is a community organizer, activist, rapid-response volunteer, and resident of Aurora, Illinois. Her hometown, 40 miles west of Chicago, and with a 42% Hispanic population, has been the target of militarized enforcement by ICE since early September.
A City under Siege
“The first time I stumbled upon a kidnapping, I was kind of…” Nadia struggles to find the right words, “… struck dumb, honestly. Even if you’ve seen the pictures, it doesn’t prepare you. Here were four masked men in military gear, no badges, no bodycams, on a neighborhood street, violently shoving one lone person into their vehicle.”
She shakes her head. ‘It was surreal, as if I had accidentally driven into a different world or a strange bubble within my community.”
It was the first time, but not the last. Over the next two months, Nadia, a member of a local rapid-response team, would witness multiple egregious actions by armed men acting as a law unto themselves.
“They weren’t working from a list of supposed criminals, or any list at all,” she says. “They were just going after random people who fit their profile. They’ve even grabbed U.S. citizens who got in their way. I haven’t seen a single instance where they’ve actually shown a warrant signed by a judge. They pick up people indiscriminately and then write the warrant afterwards.”
“There are days when they are definitely targeting Aurora,” says Nadia, “and when that happens, the kids don’t go to school, and workers try to stay home if they can. People are too afraid to even go out to get food. Entire neighborhoods feel like a dead zone.
“I don’t know how it looks outside of Chicago,” she adds, “but ICE is terrorizing our communities and the people of this city. And, whatever they claim, things were fine before they got here.”
The Beloved Community fights back
Several times a week, armed only with a whistle and her car horn, Nadia patrols the impacted neighborhoods, checking areas and main roadways where ICE may be operating.
“People are so afraid now,” she says. “Anything that is reported, we’ll go out to check and verify. We want to reassure people, but we also want them to have the truth.
“There have been days,” she admits, “where I’ve felt afraid and wanted to stay home. But on other days, I know I need to be part of the community that is doing something and resisting.”
Everyone finds their own niche, says Nadia, their own way of resisting and being part of the movement.
Some will volunteer at local organizations that assist immigrants, monitor Latin grocery stores for ICE activity, or drive their neighbors’ kids to school.
Some lobby their state legislators and city council members. Aurora just passed a city ordinance establishing ICE-free zones, a direct result of activists organizing and providing both pressure and cover for reluctant city officials.
“We’re going to be able to put up signs for city-owned buildings and parks and allow our police to ask ICE agents to leave,” Nadia explains. “It’s mostly symbolic, but at least residents can see their city leaders are taking a stand.”
Others join protests—especially at the infamous Broadview ICE processing Center outside of Chicago. Faith leaders of every denomination have demonstrated against the inhumane detention of immigrants, risking injury and arrest. United Methodist pastors have shown up outside the facility, asking to offer communion to detainees and protestors, and they have been refused. A former ILJ NI board member was arraigned last week as part of the “Broadview Six.” A group of supporters accompanied him into court, most of them United Methodist pastors.
“It’s our communities taking charge,” Nadia explains. “We’re not waiting for someone else to keep us safe. Immigrants and their allies are coming together and doing it themselves. We protect us.”