How 5 Real Moms Are Standing Up To ICE In Their Neighborhoods

Erin Tobes and Audra Wunder are stay-at-home moms in the suburban Lincoln Square neighborhood of Chicago. It’s a tight-knit community where everyone knows everyone, including the large, diverse population of immigrants and refugees who live there. When President Trump announced that he would send U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents to Chicago, Tobes and Wunder met with the principal of their kids’ school to find out what they could do to protect students and their families.

That meeting spawned the school’s new Mutual Aid Committee. On Oct. 10, agents disappeared three of their community members. Wunder and Tobes sprang into action, asking people in their neighborhood chats to put boots on the ground around campus.

“We were able to get over a hundred people to line the streets surrounding our school and the neighboring high school by the end of that day,” Tobes told Scary Mommy. It was like a human chain, Wunder added, and the volunteers spotted “so many ICE vehicles in tactical gear” circling the group.

There were more confirmed sightings of ICE in their neighborhood over the next month, usually at least one per day. Tobes and Wunder helped establish a rapid response group of about 500 members in the area. “Within that group, we post morning patrols and evening patrols. People sign up to watch an intersection — we usually have three people at an intersection,” Wunder said.

“There was an incident where the ICE stopped in the middle of the neighborhood, they got out of their car, started yelling at and pushing a bystander who was observing,” said Tobes. People posted where the showdown was taking place, and “within two minutes, 15 people were in the area.” One of Wunder’s mom friends was bathing her baby when the message came through, so she grabbed her wet baby out of the tub and ran down there, Wunder added.

Wunder and Tobes have organized food and care supply donations to families who don’t feel safe leaving their homes, including those who’ve lost a family member. “We had a family whose dad was abducted; they have a newborn baby who was one month old at the time, a four-year-old with autism, and a fourth grader. We found out about it because the daughter came to school crying and was brave enough to tell her teachers what happened. They reached out to us, and within 24 hours, we had a GoFundMe, we had lawyers, we had diapers and wipes, and groceries to the family's house. We were able to raise almost $30,000 with our GoFundMe to pay for legal fees and rent, because they lost their sole provider, and the mom isn't even a month postpartum, so she can't be out working,” Tobes said.

If Wunder and Tobes don’t seem like your typical activists, think again — who could possibly be better at this work than moms? “We're used to multitasking, we're used to organizing, we're used to figuring out how to solve a problem quickly and efficiently. We’re able to be empathetic and be caring for people who are at risk, whether it be a child or a mother. Without having that nurturing mothering experience, I don't know that we would be as effective.”

What they really feel, Tobes said, is maternal rage. “Once you're a mother, you're the mother of every child. There's something to be said for the rage of a parent who knows there's something unjust happening and saying, ‘I'm not going to sit idly by. I have all of these feelings that I can put somewhere.’”

The ICE presence in their area has dwindled, but these moms aren’t taking a breather. Instead, they’ve set their eyes on Charlotte, North Carolina, and are busy connecting with organizers and nonprofits there to share their resources.

Angie Vargas, Mother Of 2, Paramount, California

Angie Vargas lives in Paramount, California, a largely Hispanic city in Los Angeles County that made national headlines in June when citizens clashed with federal officers.

The protests began in response to an ICE raid at a Home Depot. Vargas’ sister was there purchasing construction materials and was blocked in the parking lot by ICE, so Vargas went to help her. “Something planted in me that day, this force that I can't really explain. It's more of a feeling, this courage that was in me. I didn't really think much of it,” she said.

A few days later, Vargas witnessed a detention in progress at a gas station. That seed of courage had her pulling over and whipping out her phone to “film it, document it, and make them uncomfortable,” she said. They boxed her car in with their vehicles and tried to intimidate her, but ultimately left the scene. She followed, honking and yelling as they pulled down residential streets to alert homeowners.

Now, she’s a bona fide nonviolent ICE chaser, documenting her daily “quality time with ICE” on TikTok.

Vargas is Hispanic; by engaging with ICE this way, she knows she’s making herself a target. She’s just that committed to standing up for her neighbors. “I have privilege because I speak fluent English, and the Mercedes that I drive, people know, like, ‘OK, she has money. She looks like she made it.’ People in my area can't speak English fluently. They can't stick up for themselves. They can't question these officers, and a lot of them don't have cars. I don't have the skin color privilege, but I do have the courage and the language. And I know my rights and I'm not scared.”

Vargas uses that same Mercedes to drive her two daughters to soccer, a sport multiple generations of her family have played. She had her first child at 17, and being a teen mother instills some fight in you, she said. “Mothers just have that extra bone in them to be compassionate and understanding because we all understand hardship. I also work at an emergency youth shelter, so for me, it's a normal thing to be that mother figure or fill in those little gaps to be that supportive person for someone else.”

Jessica Darrow, Mother Of 2, Chicago, Illinois

Jessica Darrow is the mother of two teenage sons, a professor at the University of Chicago, and a scholar of refugee policy. She lives in Chicago's Bucktown neighborhood, and every Friday she attends an ongoing protest outside the Broadview Processing Center, where, just weeks ago, a federal judge ordered officials to improve the “unnecessarily cruel” conditions for the people being held there.

“Broadview is a processing center and not a detention center, so there aren’t conditions to keep people for long periods of time. The reports coming out of Broadview are quite seriously reports of torture and inhumane treatment of people. All of that needs to change, and that is one of our demands. But the larger and more serious demand is to abolish ICE and to stop the mistreatment of people who are part of the fabric of our cities and communities,” Darrow said.

In early September, Darrow was asked by a friend to act as a police liaison at Broadview — essentially, a go-between who works to de-escalate tensions between local law enforcement and ICE agents and the protestors on the scene. It’s something she had experience doing and feels she’s suited for as an older woman. But it wasn’t long before the situation turned violent.

“The third week that we were there, the ICE officers shot pepper bullets at us. A pepper bullet hit my head. I was drenched in tear gas, and I was sick for days,” she said. “The next week, again, they tear-gassed us, they shot us with pepper bullets. That week, I was shot both in the back and in the leg. I had welts, and that matters to me in part because that came home with me. My kids are a little bit older, and I have been in social work for a long time. I don't hide things from them, but to see the marks on my body was upsetting for them. It was hard.”

The incident took place the same day an ICE agent shot and killed Silverio Villegas-Gonzalez, Darrow said, which happened just six miles away from Broadview. It was a day that highlighted a tension every parent activist must face.

“It felt like the ICE officers were just activated in a different way. They were unhinged in their violence. I think one of the things I struggle with honestly as a parent is that that didn't stop me from going. It made me feel even more urgently like I couldn't not be there. Honestly and vulnerably, I struggle with that. If my primary duty is to raise my children to be thoughtful, ethical citizens of whatever community they're in, I need to show up for them. But I was really feeling, and I still feel, called to show up for the community that I'm protesting both with and for.”

Darrow still joins the protest at least once a week. Like Tobes, she agrees that maternal rage is a special and visceral force, but she said it is a mother’s love that will create lasting change. “I think the righteous rage of mothers has been activated. What's behind the rage of me and the other mothers I'm in community with is a whole lot of love, and I think it's really sustaining. Rage only gets you so far, and then you get tired. If underneath it what's there is all of this love for our children, and for those we are in community with, I feel like we can fight this fight forever.”

Anna Roberts, Mother Of 1, Portland, Oregon

Anna Roberts is a Portland-based union organizer and a mom — her third-grader attends a Spanish-language immersion school where the faculty and student body are rich in diversity. That “natural meshing of cultures” is what drew her to the school in the first place. She’s involved with the PTA, and when news of ICE coming to Portland broke, community members got together and made three asks of the school. So, the PTA got to work.

First, they requested a list of parents who could support individual families affected by ICE. Who would be willing to deliver groceries or act as an emergency pick-up person if a student’s parents suddenly weren’t there after school? Second: family resource nights to educate parents about legal resources near them and the forms needed to put an emergency plan in place for their kids — essentially, who would care for them if both parents are detained?

The third was an ICE watch outside the school, which Roberts volunteered to take on. She put together a good old-fashioned Google sheet and blasted it out to parents, asking anyone with an extra 30 minutes around pick-up and drop-off to stay, don a whistle and an orange vest, and just… be a presence. Currently, she has a network of about 35 parents who monitor the school each morning and afternoon — all have attended a rapid-response training and keep an eye out for suspicious vehicles near campus.

“We want to be a deterrent. We want ICE to know that this is not a good place to show up, but it's not the same level of commitment or confrontation that doing rapid response is. We're a bunch of moms, and generally it would be hard for our kids if we were in jail for any reason. But we can show up 20 minutes early, stay 10 minutes late,” Roberts said.

Aside from that main goal, Roberts said she hopes the watch’s presence makes the Latino community at her school feel at home again.

“The Spanish-speaking moms that I am friends with say they feel like everybody hates them in their community. To be there every morning or afternoon, just saying that that's not true and that so many of us are here and want to support you and feel like what's going on is wrong, hopefully it’s one way we can reassure our community that they're not in this alone.”

A bunch of PTA moms rerouting the car line to better monitor the streets may not seem like much, but it’s exactly what this school’s families asked for, and Roberts is happy to do it. “Moms have a lot of empathy, and they also just get shit done and make plans and say, ‘OK, we're going to do this, and this is how we're going to do it.’”

The need to support other parents at her school is “primal,” she said. “My son was born and I was home on maternity leave when all the kids were being separated from their parents at the border during Trump’s [first term]. Watching that play out when you're a new mom and you feel so protective, like your whole body and soul and essence is about protecting this child, and then you see our government doing what seems like the most scary and awful thing that could ever happen — that stayed with me.”

How To Get Involved In Your Own Community

Every mother we spoke to said that there is a way for everyone to get involved in protecting their neighbors and community members right now.

“So many moms that have little ones at home aren't able to be on the front lines with their whistles, and they feel guilt that they can't contribute more,” said Wunder, who is pregnant herself. She and Tobes referenced the group of mothers protesting ICE in Chicago who were arrested, and the walking bus helping kids get to school safely. You can assess your risk tolerance, they said, and find a way to contribute based on that.

Don’t feel like you have to be confrontational if that’s simply not who you are, Vargas said. Families in her community have relied on food donations in recent months — maybe focus your energy there. You could also contact your school’s principal, social worker, or guidance counselor and share if you’re willing to drive students to and from school, Roberts said. They can share your information with fearful parents if they reach out. Or ask the affected communities in your area what they need and just do that.

Let’s say you’re happy to volunteer, but you’re not sure what to do if you see a detainment in progress. What then? You need to understand how to record and what your legal limitations are, Pedro Chavez, an immigration attorney in Ventura, California, said. His advice is to:

• Maintain 10 feet of distance between you and agents at all times (roughly two car lengths). If they step toward you, you step back. If they retreat, you have room to advance.
• Comply with their orders. Otherwise, you may be charged with obstruction of justice, which is a misdemeanor.
• Record your compliance. If officers ask you to move back, point your phone down and record yourself taking a few steps back, then point it back at the scene.
• Know the risks of involving yourself. “These scenarios are very emotionally charged, and the officers are also human beings, so they worry when there's a crowd and there's yelling and stuff like that. You could also get a really bad ICE or Customs and Border Protection officer. Be aware of the risks,” Chavez said. “If they see you as a threat or if they're just annoyed that day, they could try to break your phone, they could push you, they could arrest you, even if you did nothing wrong.”

If you’re not sure what to do or how to get involved, Darrow said you need only ask yourself one question: “‘What will I tell my children I did when there were government agents hunting down people in our cities?’ The way to answer that question then should guide our behavior,” she said.