Local updates... and persisting in "hope" as a form of resistance

Right now, there is nothing ordinary about living in the United States.

Actually, there hasn’t been anything ordinary about it for the past year. Being an immigrant, a U.S. citizen, and a person of color in the U.S., I have been closely keeping track of the news about ICE activities for quite a while now, to keep myself and my family safe. I wrote about some of the experiences back in June 2025. There is an escalating intensity right now as I comb through daily updates and news from Minneapolis and other progressive & liberal cities that are targeted for aggressive raids by ICE. Then there is a bodily disturbing sensation as the footsteps of those masked ICE agents, nearing our physical proximity, as I was notified of the local public school announcements shared by another mom, warning school communities of the ICE activities a few days ago. The announcement listed the neighborhoods raided in the morning. Neighborhood names that usually bring warmth to my heart when I see them, because they are near and dear to our family’s collective experience. Those are names that make our experience of living in “Los Angeles” less anonymous and more personal, richer with characters and localness. These neighborhoods are where we physically spend our time many days of the week.

A screenshot of a short written announcement shared by a local public school lists three things after the names of those neighborhoods.

1. You have the right to remain silent.

2. You do not need to open or even answer the door unless they have a signed judicial warrant.

3. Be cautious when traveling and consider creating an emergency plan for yourself and your loved ones.

I stared at the screenshot over and over after it landed on my phone, feeling infuriated and asking myself, “What world are we living in when we need to be cautious of the federal leadership, which is supposed to keep us safe and watch out for us?” (If you know the U.S. history, you know that hasn’t always been true in the short few hundred years of US constitution… but still my conditioned brain wanted to believe that leaders of any kinds should deeply care for people they oathed to serve). I took a moment to breathe and steady myself. I forwarded the announcement to a few folks in my life who lived/worked in those neighborhoods and didn’t have school-age kids in their everyday lives, just so they'd also be aware of the public-school announcement. Then I sat with Frido and talked through the emergency plan, again, in case something happened when we were out and about, and what we needed to share with our kids the next morning to keep them informed without pushing them into total fear. We told each other, “Keep the conversation short, stay with known facts, and don’t overdo the warning”.

A few months ago, kids looked at me puzzled when they found my U.S. passport in my wallet, along with more “ordinary” forms of identification, like a driver’s license. I told them I had started carrying the passport in case I needed to prove my citizenship on the street, ending the sentence with “though it might not mean anything at the point” in a matter-of-fact tone. They knew immediately what that meant. History can repeat itself.

When we gave them the quick local update the next morning, the shadow came and went across their faces. But when I read the constitutional rights listed in the announcement as part of the shared info, they rolled their eyes and asked sarcastically, “But do those rights get respected?” We moved on to the “what’s for breakfast” conversation.

No. There is nothing ordinary about what is going on here, and it is not okay.

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Parallel to my daily routine of combing through the local and relevant news and staying informed of what to be aware of, I have been constantly asking myself how to keep the “light of hope” turned on during this time. How do we keep showing up for our loved ones, for our community, and for ourselves when it feels like despair? How do we not allow those heavy weights of fear to stop us from taking another step?

And I come back to the quiet but steady resilience of spreading joy and kindness, and to the true power of inner reflection through personal writing and journaling. Because if I really think about it, that’s exactly the opposite of what oppressors of the system want. They don’t want diverse neighbors and citizens to stay connected with each other through shared experiences. They want us feel isolated in fear. They don’t want us to have a full life, expressed across the full spectrum of joy and happiness. They most certainly don’t want us to pause to regulate our nervous system and hold space to acknowledge our deepest emotions… the essence of what makes us truly human.

So I greet and smile when I see other neighborhood dog walkers on the trail in the early morning, even though the morning news is grim. We bring home-baked cake and home-brewed kombucha to our friends’ homes when we visit them for a cup of coffee. We host dinners for friends and intentionally create more opportunities to gather and connect. We keep designing for Baum-kuchen, knowing that the just-right notebook cover, radiating with love and care, can and perhaps “might” shift something in the person on the other side of the artifact… and we keep shipping parcels like we mean to spread the love to the world.

Is it enough? I don’t know. To be honest, no effort feels enough to stop the current madness and harm that is being cast. But that’s what I can do with my two human hands today.

I keep telling myself this.

To stay informed, and not only to remain hopeful but to radiate hope from within, is not naive. It is a form of resilience and resistance.

So I keep carrying my U.S. passport in my bag while persisting to live my version of a full, authentic life that contributes to the people and communities around me.

… and if you are driving or walking on the street, also carrying your U.S. passport when you absolutely don’t need to under different circumstances, I want you to know that you are not alone. I am here with you. And if you need to stay off the street altogether right now because your safety and the ability to continue your everyday life are uncertain, I want you to know that I will keep resisting.

I will end this story with a photo of flowers that my BK friend/customer brought for my family last Sunday, freshly picked from her beloved garden. She did this out of pure kindness, knowing how much I love native plants and flowers. This flower exudes hope from within, and it’s my inspiration today.