COLUMN | How Seattle's White Allyship Impacts Immigrant Activism

If there's been any kind of silver lining to the second Trump era — and I know it's hard to argue that one exists — it's that it has inspired mass demonstrations and expressions of solidarity. That's a pretty lame attempt at seeing the sunny side of the current political landscape, I know. But hundreds of thousands of people across the country have taken to the streets in marches like this summer's No Kings rally. Here in the Seattle area, Latin Americans are often outnumbered at these protests, but crowds have spoken out against seemingly random U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) check-ins, arrests at immigration courthouses, or the ever-crummy conditions at the ICE detention center in Tacoma, which lately is always at capacity. 

The demographics of the region's protest crowds should come as no surprise. The Latin American population is rapidly growing in Washington State, but it remains relatively small, at about 15%. In comparison, the state is majority white, with that group making up about 80% of the population.

Yet, unlike the Black Lives Matter protests of five years ago, which erupted across the country after the police killing of George Floyd, I've seen almost no thinking, or writing, about what the role of white allies should be today. Back then, there were countless think pieces on how white people should take a step back and defer to what Black leadership has to say. I've seen nothing written about respecting Latin American voices. Even if white allies have the best intentions in mind, or want to show Brown people they are not alone in the fight against Trump's immigration policies, it is important to ensure Brown folks have the space to speak for themselves.

Immigrants from Latin America account for 45% of the nearly 50 million immigrants living in the U.S. They are, arguably, target No. 1 under the Trump administration. It feels more important now, than ever, to hear directly from them — people whose lives are actively being destroyed by Trump's immigration policies though they make up almost 20% of the U.S. workforce, even as others, the transgender community for one, are being targeted as well.

The gap between white allies and immigrants impacted by Trump's policies is wide in Seattle. Walk up to your average middle-aged Spanish-speaking woman on the street and ask her if she knows about the political organization known as the Democratic Socialists of America or the "antifa" movement and she's likely to give you a blank stare.

Maru Mora-Villalpando, a longtime volunteer with La Resistencia, a grassroots organization led by undocumented immigrants and People of Color that for years has advocated for the closure of the ICE detention center in Tacoma, says protesting in the region has always been white-centered.

"We're in the U.S. where capitalism reigns, and white people are at the top of the chain," she said in a recent phone interview. 

Mora-Villalpando added that much of the organizing in the region is professionalized and there's often a language barrier, with terms like "neoliberalism" thrown around. 

"A lot of the Seattle groups don't respect the fact that these women don't speak English," she said. "My fight is to protect our space and to protect them."

Some — including politicians looking to capitalize on tragic moments to gain TV time and political capital — get their names and faces in news headlines while appearing to care about immigrant struggles, only to quickly fade away once the cameras are gone. They fail to adequately recognize, and appreciate, the Mexicans and other Latin Americans who for years have consistently been doing the work on the ground. 

It's insulting and dismissive. 

Mora-Villalpando calls this "tourism activism." 

"Instead of following the work of others, they want to be the leader and that's the problem," Mora-Villalpando said. She said organizers with La Resistencia often only receive a small stipend, if anything, and focus on getting money to people inside detention facilities. With La Resistencia, detainees call the shots, Mora-Villalpando said. 

"Our integrity and our ethics are untouchable," she said.

Of course, this isn't to say groups like La Resistencia don't work in white-centered spaces. They've pushed legislators to pass a law that authorizes the Washington State Department of Health to conduct inspections at the ICE facility in Tacoma, for example, which was recently upheld by the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit.

Rosario Lopez, an organizer with Super Familia, a mutual aid group led by undocumented and unaccompanied youth, says immigrant communities are more careful about speaking out today because of the Trump administration's extreme immigration policies. But she says others who can more safely protest often assume too much, even if they have good intentions. Lopez also says some have only superficial involvement in anti-ICE efforts, and unwittingly spread rumors about immigration arrests. They also don't always respect the autonomy of undocumented groups, putting the blame on protesters instead of ICE on anything they deem violent. 

But Lopez added that they have also received substantial financial support from allies to help with commissary funds for people detained and for rent so that women whose husbands have been arrested or deported can survive. Some allies also accompany undocumented people on errands, because today they're afraid to move about on their own.

Maybe I'll just never completely trust others' fury about what's happening. Growing up like I did in Nogales, Arizona, with a border wall as your backdrop, which divides the haves from the have nots, at least materialistically speaking, you're acutely aware of white people who take up space unnecessarily. Gringos. It's an overly simplistic outlook on life, I realize, but one that has formed the foundation of who I am. 

And while I strongly believe in allyship and solidarity, deep down I fear nobody is going to save us but us.