The Brief

As cars and trucks zoom by, Rurick Palomino points to the underside of the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge that spans the Potomac River in Washington, D.C., where his crew of about 30 workers is doing demolition work and pouring concrete as part of a $128 million federally-funded refurbishment.

A Peruvian immigrant who came to the United States 25 years ago, Palomino — a U.S. citizen — built his construction firm from scratch after earning an engineering degree and learning the trade firsthand. He once employed 45 workers but has since scaled back. "There's plenty of work — a lot of mega-projects coming — but I'm afraid to take more because I don't have the manpower," he says.

Rurick Palomino stands beside the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge in Washington, D.C., where his crew of 30 workers is doing demolition and repair.

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For years, the construction industry — in which on average one in three workers is foreign-born — has struggled with a yawning labor shortage that President Donald Trump's immigration crackdown is making worse, industry officials warn. In D.C., for example, that has meant Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) checkpoints that have swept up Latino workers on their way to and from work.

"I personally saw a checkpoint here on the Baltimore-Washington Parkway," Palomino said. "All construction pickups. So, it's happening."

"People are scared," he continues.

As ICE agents fan out to detain and deport undocumented immigrants, their enforcement actions are creating unease among both undocumented and documented workers on building sites across the U.S., deepening the already severe labor shortage, slowing the pace of construction and driving up costs, industry officials and contractors say.

From the first day of his second term, Trump began issuing executive orders and proclamations aimed at reversing the flow of migrants at the southern border — apprehending and deporting undocumented individuals and seeking to end birthright citizenship. In September, the Department of Homeland Security said that ICE had deported 400,000 people since the start of Trump's second term and that an estimated 1.6 million had self-deported.

Day laborers — many of whom are undocumented — often gather in Home Depot parking lots and in August, federal agents carried out raids near the construction supply stores in the Los Angeles area. In one instance, a Guatemalan migrant fled across a freeway where he was struck by a vehicle and killed. The Department of Homeland Security says ICE arrested more than 100 people in June at a construction site in Tallahassee, Fla. In October, four construction workers were arrested during a similar raid in St. Paul, Minn.

A survey by the Associated General Contractors of America (AGC) conducted over the summer found that 92% of construction firms struggle to fill positions. In the past six months, 28% of the surveyed firms said they were affected by immigration actions — 5% said ICE agents had visited a jobsite, 10% said they had lost workers due to actual or rumored ICE raids, and 20% reported those concerns caused subcontractors to lose staff.

"Firms say it's extremely disruptive when workers fail to show up or leave in the middle of a task," says Ken Simonson, chief economist at AGC — the construction industry's largest and oldest trade association. It means jobs are completed more slowly, driving up costs for the owner and contractor, he says. "A building project is step by step. So it's fine if you get the foundation poured and the beams up to hold up the building. But if you can't put on the roof, you're not going to be able to finish things off," he says.

Simonson says he is concerned that if the enforcement actions are stepped up, "this is just the cusp of what we'll be seeing."

NPR reached out to the White House and the Department of Homeland Security, which oversees ICE, but received no reply to specific questions about how raids are affecting the construction industry. However, White House spokeswoman Abigail Jackson said in an emailed statement: "There is no shortage of American minds and hands to grow our labor force, and President Trump's agenda to create jobs for American workers represents this Administration's commitment to capitalizing on that untapped potential while delivering on our mandate to enforce our immigration laws."

A palpable anxiety among Latino construction workers

Palomino says he doesn't hire people who can't provide proof that they have a legal right to work in the U.S. — even though allowing people to work without that proof is common in construction, he says. The members of his workforce — originally from Mexico, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Bolivia and his native Peru — are all employees with a Social Security number and a driver's license. That's a necessity to work on a government project. For Palomino, playing by the rules means competing for an even smaller labor pool.

But workers with work permits and green cards worry they too could be detained. Recently, Palomino said, several of his employees were stopped by ICE on their way into work, with agents holding them for hours before eventually releasing them. "I guess they were checking their background or whatever," he says. "We could not accomplish what we were supposed to do that day. And that, in turn, put us behind schedule."

Sergio Barajas, head of the National Hispanic Construction Alliance, notes that although the number of actual ICE raids has been limited so far, the anxiety among Latino workers — documented and undocumented alike — is palpable. "That in and of itself is resulting in crews not showing up or a reduced number of persons on a given crew showing up," he says.

That wariness is so pervasive, he adds, that some Latino-owned firms are removing business signs from their trucks and vans to avoid being identified as construction crews so they won't be targeted.

Barajas says there's "a bit of a hierarchy" in the industry, with infrastructure work like Palomino's firm does at the top, followed by commercial contractors, then mixed use and residential. At the lowest rungs, immigrants make up a higher percentage of trades such as plasterers and stucco masons, drywall and ceiling tile installers, roofers, painters and flooring installers, according to the National Association of Home Builders (NAHB). Those jobs are desperately needed in the home-building industry, where the ongoing shortage of workers costs $11 billion annually, the Home Building Institute (HBI) estimates. In the U.S., the gap between supply and demand in the housing market is roughly 1.5 million housing units, NAHB says.

Scott Turner, a homebuilder in the Austin, Texas, area, says where he is located, ICE raids haven't yet been high-profile enough to be a major source of cost increases, but they "can only have one effect on the cost of building a home, and that's to raise it."

A labor shortage that goes back decades

To be sure, the labor shortage predates the current crackdown on immigration, according to Jim Tobin, NAHB president and CEO. "Even when we were building more homes than we needed in the early 2000s, we still were facing a labor shortage," he says.

He blames a long-running emphasis in the U.S. on four-year college degrees that, in turn, has devalued education in the trades. It's a point of view that gets a lot of nods of agreement among contractors. "Since we've done a terrible job of educating our domestic workforce, we've had to increase the pull from across our borders," Tobin says.

Kenny Mallick at a job site in Virginia. Mallick says he is retiring after three decades in construction, largely over frustration with the "broken labor system" that keeps the industry going.

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Kenny Mallick, a plumbing and heating contractor based in Gaithersburg, Md, says that's created a broken labor system that hurts the economy and is unfair to hardworking migrants. "They're taking risks every day by coming to work. They could be locked up and deported," he says.

Mallick says he voted for Trump and agrees with the president's stance that people who have committed crimes should be deported. However, he says one thing is clear: "We can't do what we do in this country without these people," he says. "They're stitched into every element of our fabric — from the people cooking in restaurants to the ones pouring concrete or laying brick." In return, he says, "we exploit the s*** out of these people."

Mallick has worked in the construction industry for 30 years. But as he turns 59, he is planning to step back from the business — in large part, he says, because of these frustrations. He believes he and other contractors like himself need to stand up and tell the government "stop taking our people. We need them."

The roots of the labor shortage go back at least 25 years. In the early 2000s, as the labor shortage grew amid a building boom, immigrants were filling many of the openings, especially in residential construction. "Undocumented immigrants became a key source of profitability in the industry," says Nik Theodore, the director of the Center for Urban Economic Development at the University of Illinois, Chicago.

That trend accelerated with the Great Recession, when the bottom fell out of the industry. Many U.S.-born workers left construction jobs and sought employment elsewhere. During the recovery, "contractors increasingly turned to immigrants to meet the shortage," Theodore says.

Now the Trump administration's enforcement efforts are leaving the construction industry to cope with an ever-widening shortage of workers, Theodore says. Contractors, he says, are "going to have to pay more for the available workers" because "we're not just losing workers — we're losing workers who know how to drywall, lay flooring. There are real skill gaps."

A 2023 report by NAHB shows that California and New Jersey have the highest percentage of foreign-born construction workers at 41% each, but that concentrations are nearly as high across the south, where construction is booming and wages are low. Texas and Florida both had 38%, Georgia 30% and Virginia and North Carolina at 27% each.

Theodore sees an irony in that "most contractors in the South are lifelong Republicans" who voted for Trump: "They agreed with him on deregulation and taxes, and they convinced themselves [that] Trump's rhetoric would focus on criminals, not the day-to-day construction workforce."

Mallick says he has always tried to run an "open shop" — one where employees aren't required to join a union. But he's competing against contractors who hire cheaper undocumented workers recruited through middle men called labor brokers. Those workers, he says, "are probably getting $25 an hour. The open-shop guy, $40. The union guy, $60."

Meanwhile, the union worker has all but disappeared. An Associated Builders and Contractors analysis published earlier this year shows that the percentage of unionized workers in the construction industry has fallen to a record low of just over 10% from nearly 40% in 1973.

Mark Erlich, a fellow at the Center for Labor and a Just Economy at Harvard Law School and a former head of the New England Carpenters Union, says declining unionization is partly responsible for "real wage stagnation" in the industry, adding: "There's tension between the political imperative of deportations and the interests of contractors who want certainty in planning their business."

Will U.S.-born workers fill the construction labor gap?

The White House suggests that mass deportations open up new job opportunities for U.S.-born workers; in that August statement, DHS Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin wrote, "as illegal aliens continue to exit the labor force, more Americans are finding steady and gainful employment."

Deportations leave holes to fill in the construction industry, but Mallick, Palomino and others say there are few U.S.-born workers willing to take them. In a report published in July, the non-partisan Economic Policy Institute, concluded that if the Trump administration meets its goal of deporting 4 million people by the end of 2028, 1.4 million immigrants who work in the construction industry would be lost. And there would be a net loss of 861,000 jobs among U.S.-born workers, partly because the sudden removal of part of the work force could force contractors to rapidly scale back or shut down entirely.

Palomino, for one, doesn't buy the administration's argument. "Contrary to whatever the government thinks," he says, the industry is not attracting new, native-born workers. "They don't want to come to work in construction." Nor Mallick: "There's not anyone sitting on the sidelines. Unemployment is low. Where are you going to get them at? The trades aren't sexy."

In April, Trump issued an executive order promising to modernize the skilled trades workforce. But the order offered few details. In June, the Department of Labor also established a temporary Office of Immigration Policy that the administration says is a one-stop-shop aimed at helping employers secure the workforce they need and to create legal pathways for immigrants to work.

Erlich thinks the industry could bring in more U.S.-born workers if the pay and conditions were more attractive. "When conditions have become so degraded — both compensation and safety — [it's] no surprise people don't join," he says. "Attracting people to an industry depends on whether they can have a legitimate career and prospects. It's not about kids not wanting to work — it's about the opportunity structure."

Palomino echoes a common refrain in the construction industry — the solution, he says, is a visa program for immigrant workers: "Maybe [the government] can create a path — even if not for citizenship — for good workers to be allowed to work without fear," he says. Most workers in his business, he says, "just want to live and go day by day."

That's the way Palomino sees himself. "I came to the U.S. with one suitcase," he says, "and now I have three families working for me. I think I've fulfilled my American dream — doing everything the right way, one step at a time."

Copyright 2025 NPR

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

Since 1977, Richard Santillan has been to every Opening Day game at Dodger Stadium. 

“The tradition goes from my father, to me, to my children and grandchildren. Some of my best memories are with my father and children here at Dodger Stadium,” Santillan told The LA Local, smiling under the shade of palm trees near the entrance to the ballpark Wednesday morning. He was there to protest the team less than 24 hours before Opening Day.

Santillan, like countless other loyal Dodgers fans, is grappling with his fan identity over the team’s decision to accept an invitation to the White House and owner Mark Walter’s ties to ICE detention facilities.

More than 30 people joined Santillan on Wednesday morning for a press conference held near 1000 Vin Scully Drive to convey a message directly to the team. 

“We are demanding the Dodgers stop participating in funding of inhumane treatment of families and do not go to the White House to celebrate with the criminal in chief,” Evelyn Escatiola told the crowd. “Together, we have the power to make a change.”

Escatiola, a former dean of East Los Angeles College and longtime community organizer, urged fans to flex their economic power by “letting the Dodgers know that we do not support repression.”

Jorge “Coqui” Rodriguez, a lifelong Dodgers fan, spoke to the crowd and called on Dodgers ownership to divest from immigration detention centers owned and operated by GEO Group and CoreCivic.

Jorge Coqui H Rodriguez speaks at a press conference outside Dodger Stadium on March 25, 2026, to demand the Dodgers not to visit the White House following their 2025 World Series win.

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In a phone interview a day before the protest, Rodriguez told The LA Local he did not want the Dodgers using his “cheve” or beer money to fund detention centers. 

“They can’t take our parking money, our cacahuate money, our cheve money, our Dodger Dog money and invest those funds into corporations that are imprisoning people. It’s wrong,” Rodriguez said. 

Rodriguez considers the Dodgers one of the most racially diverse teams and said the players need to support fans at a time when heightened immigration enforcement has become more common across L.A.

The team’s 2025’s visit to the White House drew ire from the largely Latino fan base, citing the Trump administration’s ongoing attacks on immigrants. 

In June, the team came under further scrutiny when rumors swirled online that federal immigration agents were using the stadium’s parking, which immigration authorities later denied in statements posted on social media accounts.

The team again came under fire after not releasing a statement on the impacts of ICE raids on its mostly Latino fan base at the height of immigration enforcement last summer. The team later agreed to invest $1 million to support families affected by immigration enforcement.

When he learned the Dodgers were pledging only $1 million to families in need, Rodriguez called the amount a  “slap in the face.” 

“These guys just bought the Lakers for billions of dollars and they give a million dollars to fight for legal services? That’s a joke,” Rodriguez said. “They need to have a moral backbone and not be investing in those companies.”

According to reporting from the Los Angeles Times, former Dodgers pitcher Clayton Kershawsaid last week that he is looking forward to the trip.

“I went when President [Joe] Biden was in office. I’m going to go when President [Donald] Trump is in office,” Kershaw said. “To me, it’s just about getting to go to the White House. You don’t get that opportunity every day, so I’m excited to go.”

The Dodgers have yet to announce when their planned visit will take place. 

Santillan sometimes laments his decision to give up his season tickets in protest of the team. His connection to the stadium and the memories he has made there with family and friends will last a lifetime, he said. On Thursday, he will uphold his tradition and be there for the first pitch of the season, but with a heavy heart.

“It’s a family tradition, but the Dodgers have a lot of work to do,” he said.

A local favorite mom-and-pop bookshop in Eagle Rock is facing displacement due to a steep rent hike. The owners say theirs is just one of several small businesses along Eagle Rock Boulevard struggling to keep up with lease increases.

Over the past 19 years, many in the neighborhood have come to love READ Books for its eclectic collection of used titles and shop dog Florence.

Co-owner Jeremy Kaplan said it’s been a delight to grow with the community over the years.

“Like seeing kids come back in, who were in grade school and now they’re in college,” Kaplan said.

But the building where Kaplan and wife Debbie rent was recently sold, and the rent increased by more than 130% to $2,805 a month, Kaplan said. He told LAist it was an increase his small business simply could not absorb.

Kaplan said he originally was given 30 days notice of the rent increase. After some research, assistance from Councilmember Ysabel Jurado’s office and some pro-bono legal help, Kaplan said he pushed back and got the 90-day notice he’s afforded by state law.

California Senate Bill 1103 requires landlords to give businesses with five or less employees 90 days’ notice for rent increases exceeding 10%, among other protections.

Systems Real Estate, the property management company, did not immediately respond to LAist’s request for comment.

What can small businesses do? 

Nadia Segura, directing attorney of the Small Business Program at pro bono legal aid non-profit Bet Tzedek said California law does not currently allow for rent control for commercial tenancies.

Outside of the protections under SB 1103, Segura said small businesses like READ Books don’t have much other recourse. And even then, commercial landlords are not required to inform their tenants of their protections under the law.

“There’s still a lot of people that don’t know about SB 1103. And then it’s very sad that they tell them they have these rent increases and within a month they have to leave,” Segura said.

She said her group is seeing steep rent hikes like this for commercial tenants across the city.

“We are seeing this even more with the World Cup coming up, the Olympics coming up. And I will say it was very sad to see that also after the wildfires,” Segura said.

Part of Bet Tzedek’s ongoing work is to advocate for small businesses, working with landlords who are increasing rents to see if they are willing to give business owners longer leases that lock in rents.

What’s next 

After READ Books posted about their situation on social media, commenters chimed in to express their outrage and love for the little shop.

While he looks for a new spot, Kaplan says he’s forming a coalition of local businesses and activist groups to see what can be done to help other small businesses facing similar displacement. He wants to address the displacement issue for businesses like his, which have made Eagle Rock the distinctive neighborhood that it is today.

Owl Talk, a longtime Eagle Rock staple selling clothing and accessories in a unit in the same building as READ Books, is facing a “more than double” rent increase, according to a post on their Instagram account.

Kaplan said he’s been in touch with the office of state Assemblywoman Jessica Caloza and wants to explore the possibility of introducing legislation to set up protections for small businesses like his, including rent-control measures or a vacancy tax for landlords. Kaplan said he also reached out to the office of state Sen. Maria Durazo.

By his count, Kaplan said there are about a dozen businesses within surrounding blocks that are at risk of closing their doors or have shuttered due to rent increases or other struggles.

When READ Books was founded during the Great Recession, Kaplan said he knew it was a longshot to open a bookstore at the same time so many were struggling to stay in business.

“It was kind of interesting to be doing something that neighborhoods needed. That was important to me growing up, that was important to my children, that was important to my wife growing up,” Kaplan said.

“And then somebody comes in and says, ‘We’re gonna over double your rent.”

Topline:

Frozen budget: Most of the city’s Bureau of Street Lighting budget comes from an assessment that people who own property illuminated by lights pay on their county property tax bill. The amount people pay depends on the kind of property they own and how much they benefit from lighting. A typical single-family home currently pays $53 annually, and in total, the assessments bring in about $45 million annually for the city to repair and maintain streetlights. Changing the amount the Bureau of Street Lighting gets from the assessment requires a vote among property owners who benefit from the lights.

Ballots: L.A. City Council’s vote gives city staff the green light to prepare and send out those ballots. Miguel Sangalang, who oversees the bureau, said at a committee meeting earlier this month that he expects to send out ballots by April 17. Notices about the ballots will be sent out prior to the ballots themselves.

Near unanimous vote: L.A. City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez was the only “No” vote Tuesday, saying she wanted to see a more current strategic plan for the bureau. Sangalang said the bureau developed a plan in 2022 that lays out how money will be spent. Councilmember Imelda Padilla was absent for the vote.

Vote count: Votes will be weighted according to the assessment amount. Basically, the more you’re asked to pay yearly to maintain streetlights, the more your vote will count. Ballots received before June 2 will be tabulated by the L.A. City Clerk.

How much more money: According to a report, the amount needed in assessments from property owners to meet the repair and maintenance needs of the city’s streetlighting in the next fiscal year is nearly $112 million.

Use of the money: Sangalang said at a March 11 committee meeting that the extra funds would be used to double the number of staff to handle repairs and procure solar streetlights, which don’t face the threat of copper wire theft. That would all potentially reduce the time it takes to repair simple fixes down to a week. Currently, city residents wait for months to see broken streetlights repaired. The assessment would come with a three-year auditing mechanism.