“We’re not safe right now. We can’t go grocery shopping. We can’t even go put the trash out without being afraid,” said a close friend of Henrique, who asked to not be identified because of her immigration status. When she first saw the video, the friend said, she recognized Henrique’s desperation, because it could have been her. “I felt so impotent,” said the friend, who also came to Maine from Angola and has been following the legal process for applying for citizenship.
The arrest has been held up as an example over recent days of the sort of strong-arm tactics by agents that immigrant-rights advocates have been watching for, as they embark on a campaign to monitor and document an immigration enforcement operation that began in Maine last week and that continues today.
Over the last several weeks, in anticipation of the surge, a team of activists has been training people on what to look out for, preparing them to deploy with whistles and car horns to warn immigrants and to monitor the agents’ tactics. And they said they are already seeing it: The apprehension of people while still in their vehicles, seemingly based on racial profiling; the patrols of bus stops; the arrest of people with no criminal background who are pursuing immigration legally.
The attorney general’s office has also urged Mainers to send in reports of intimidating and excessive federal enforcement behavior, in response to “evidence of constitutionally-deficient, excessive, and intimidating enforcement tactics” in the state.
As of Monday, the Department of Homeland Security said it has arrested more than 200 people, out of 1,400 arrests it has targeted under what it calls “Operation Catch of the Day.”
DHS has maintained it is going after people with criminal histories, though advocates say many of those taken into custody have no criminal backgrounds at all. And they say Henrique’s case has resonated widely because of the rawness of her screams and because she, also, is not a criminal.
A search of the Maine criminal history record information request service returned no results for Henrique. The Department of Homeland Security did not respond to a request for comment Monday about her case.
At a protest attended by about 1,000 people on Saturday in Lewiston, Faisal R. Khan, a Maine civil rights activist and community organizer, brought his phone up to the mic on the center stage of the Agora Palace Event Center.
He pulled up the video of Henrique’s arrest, and warned everyone before he played the audio. The broadcast was chilling.
“These were not words, these were screams,” Khan said. “Screams of fear. Screams of pain. Screams that cut through the night, and lodge themselves into my chest.”
For those in Maine’s immigrant community, many of whom are essentially in hiding, relying on neighbors to bring their kids to school and deliver groceries, Henrique’s voice captured the fear that drives their days and nights. For the hundreds of volunteers trying to help their immigrant neighbors, watching Henrique get pulled from her car was the manifestation of everything they are trying to help avoid.
Rachel Flehinger, a Portland-based organizer, has been at the heart of a growing group of volunteers across the state who are trying to help the immigrant community. In her professional life, Flehinger operates Activate Maine, an online hub for activism in the state. Now, she’s also moderating several encrypted chats on Signal, helping connect volunteers to groups offering support, leading an effort to print 3D whistles to warn of ICE presence, and coordinating with peers in Minnesota, New York, and Illinois to share best practices.
“Since the beginning, my whole goal has been, look, we’re going to need each other. Hyper local will grow to local will grow to state, will grow, will grow,” Flehinger said.
On the ground here in the Portland area, some groups are dedicated to delivering food and helping with immediate needs, like shoveling out cars after this weekend’s snowstorm. Others are focused on tracking what ICE is up to — where they are, what they are doing, and who they are targeting.
It’s not just a matter of pointing people in the right direction. These online groups have to establish trust, which means vetting who is allowed to join, and what degree of information can be shared. This is, in part, because there have been reports of ICE “infiltrating online to try to get to who’s helping who, and where are these people you’re helping, and what is their address,” Flehinger said. “So, vetting is super important.”
The federal government has said it is aiming to arrest the “worst of the worst” in Maine — immigrants who are here illegally and have committed violent crimes, and the operation in Maine is the latest in an expanded immigration crackdown across the country, including in Minnesota. Those operations have drawn crowds of protesters, leading to violent clashes between federal agents and demonstrators.
The killing of two activists in Minneapolis in recent weeks by federal agents has alarmed activists here. But it has also strengthened their resolve.
Advocates in the state have been racing to help — suing to keep some detained immigrants from being transferred out of state, getting lawyers for those who are arrested, raising funds to cover legal costs and bonds. It’s a race against time, because detainees can be transferred quickly, and it’s done largely in the dark, as the government has delayed identifying who it is arresting.
Assisting those trained advocates and professionals are the many neighbors out on patrol, who are being advised to reach out to the Maine Immigrant Defense Hotline when they see something ICE-related. In the first week of the surge, the hot line received some 4,241 calls and 635 texts, including 79 reports of an ICE stakeout and 25 reports from people who witnessed a rapid detention, according to a post on social media.
Since the operation began last week, stories of those targeted have begun to emerge. They include a mother who was apprehended after she dropped her 5-year-old daughter off at school on Friday. The mother, who had no criminal history, was released Tuesday morning on bond.
Henriques arrived from Angola two years ago and has been “complying with all legal requirements related to her case,” according to Fonseca David, her boyfriend of two years. Since her arrest, David has spoken with Henrique once, he said.
“She was very scared, but trying to stay strong,” he said. David describes Henrique as “one of the best people I have ever known … someone who truly makes a difference in the lives of those she touches.”
On Monday, Project Relief Maine, a Black immigrant-led mutual aid organization, paid Henrique’s legal fees, and David said they are still awaiting word on whether she will be offered bond, and how much it will be. An online fund-raiser had collected $1,300 as of Tuesday evening.
Meanwhile, Henrique’s friend remains in hiding — scared to live out in the open, despite being in Maine legally and paying taxes.
“We are just trying to live, work, bring our kids to school – have a simple life,” she said. “We are not criminals.”
Sabrina Shankman can be reached at [email protected]. Giulia McDonnell Nieto del Rio can be reached at [email protected]. Follow her @giuliamcdnr.
