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These Angelenos journeyed to Adelanto to protest conditions at immigrant detention centers
Hundreds of people from across Greater L.A. journeyed to the Mojave Desert this weekend to protest living conditions at the Adelanto Immigration and Customs Enforcement Processing Center, where an estimated 2,000 people are being held.
Current and former detainees say immigrants there face rotten food, denial of medication and solitary confinement.
The Trump administration, which has denied those charges, has promised to expand the network of immigrant prisons like Adelanto across the U.S., even as the number of people who’ve died in ICE custody grows.
The organizers stage a concert outside the detention center on Saturday to serenade the detainees, while also speaking to how the administration’s policies have harmed their communities.
Sandra Garcia was among dozens of people who boarded three buses outside the Pasadena Community Job Center. She decided to make the trek out of a sense of responsibility, she told LAist. Last summer, immigration agents raided her family’s tamale stand, pinned four of their regular customers to the ground and arrested them. She said it’s something her family can’t forget. Two of Garcia’s cousins have also been detained. One of them, she said, has already been deported.
Since then, Garcia has joined a rapid response network to help alert her neighbors to the presence of federal agents.
“ As a U.S citizen, I'm gonna continue pushing,” she added.
Heavenly Hughes, a longtime Altadena resident, said she joined the caravan “to show that Black and brown unity is important.”
Her parents, she said, bought their home in the early 1970s, and the community she grew up in was the product of redlining.
“Hardworking Black people built this community,” she said of Altadena. When the Eaton Fire broke out, “my friends, my peers, those who helped raise me — they lost everything in the fire.”
The day laborers at the job center have been integral to rebuilding the region, Hughes said. She was going to Adelanto to protest against the detention of these workers and to express her solidarity with them and their families.
“I love when I hear our community saying joy is resistance,” she said. “ We want the people there who are detained to hear our voices. That they are humans. That they deserve to be treated right.”
Songs of resistance
As desert winds blew, the activists made their way from the caravans to a mobile stage truck.
“It's heavy to be here,” said Elisa Schwartz, a resident of Valley Village who carried a sign that read: “We’ve seen this shit before.”
“As a Jew, I was raised to know that once you are othered, you are in serious danger,” she added.
To get to Adelanto from her home, Schwartz traveled nearly 100 miles. As she marched along the dusty highway with other protesters, she wished she could go out there every day.
“I hope [this] will mean something to them,” she said.
Up on the stage, the musicians played folk songs about working class solidarity and resistance to repressive governments, like Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are A-Changin'” and a rendition of Alí Primera’s “Techos de cartón.”
Some protesters created an altar near the stage in honor of those who recently died in immigrant prisons, or at the hands of federal agents. For a while, the mood was somber, and the activists weren’t sure that the detainees could hear the music. The unyielding gusts of wind didn’t help.
A few feet away, brothers Abe and Ben (who asked LAist not to share their last name out of fear of reprisal) distributed groceries from the back of their truck. When a parent or partner is detained, Abe noted, it can wreak economic havoc on a household. They wanted to do their part to help ease their burden.
They would know. In late February, Abe had been detained at Adelanto. And Ben had flown to visit him in Adelanto from the Bay Area.
“It was really hard to see, you know, my older brother, who I grew up with, in these conditions,” Ben said.
Abe was detained for three weeks after being arrested at an annual check-in. When asked about what it was like inside, he said he always ate canned food — “nothing was fresh” — and that getting medical attention could take up to a week. He most looked forward to the one hour per day he was allowed to be outside.
“You're behind the fence, inside the cages, but at least you're in the sun,” he said.
While he was detained, Ben’s friends suggested that he launch a GoFundMe page to help the family cover his brother's attorney’s fees. More than 200 people contributed. That level of support “was hope giving,” Ben said. Now that Abe is free, he, his brother and Abe’s wife decided to go to the protest and pay it forward.
Getting in contact with people inside
Jax Santana, whose father, Ramiro Santiago Pacheco Martinez, was detained last November, told the crowd that her father was a day laborer in Pomona; that he was the one who taught her to drive and cheered for her at her graduation; that she and her four siblings wanted him home.
As the sun began to set, the crowd moved the mobile stage across the street, closer to the detention center.
The musicians played more upbeat music including cumbia and quebradita.
Santana took the mic for a second time. Using a government-approved messaging system, they were able to make contact with their father.
“He can hear us!” Santana told a cheering crowd. “They all can hear us!”
Then, Santana led the crowd in chanting: “No estan solos! You’re not alone!"
As the chanting died down, Santana shared one more message from their father: “You better be dancing,” he said.