Last February, Guadalupe Garcia de Rayos, an Arizona mom of two U.S. citizens, became one of the first undocumented immigrants to be taken into custody following Donald Trump signing a series of executive orders that effectively unleashed his Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) mass deportation force. In a last-ditch effort, the nation watched as her supporters formed a ring around a convoy of vans that were exiting an ICE facility in Phoenix. Inside one of those vans was Garcia de Rayos. Her two children, at times weeping, were outside.
But the community demonstrations failed, and ICE deported Garcia de Rayos to a nation she had not called home for decades. Since arriving in Mexico, Garcia de Rayos opened a small tortilla shop using donations she received following the international publicity of the case. But with little income coming in due to surrounding competition, she can’t repair the modern but expensive machinery that has broken down since. Above all, she misses her children:
After she was deported, Garcia de Rayos was reunited with her family members, many of whom she had not seen in years, including her mother and father, a sister and brother. Some she had never met, including her three nieces, who were born after she left Mexico for the United States 21 years earlier.
Being surrounded by their love helps her get through the pain of being separated from her husband and children.
She also tries to keep busy. Besides running the tortilla shop, she helps out at a stand selling cups of sliced fruit her sister and mother run in the center of town, across from the massive Catholic cathedral that anchors the town plaza.
But when darkness falls, she dreads returning to her bedroom alone.
"It is very difficult, even though I am pretty happy to be with my family here," she says. "But once nighttime comes, I miss my children dearly."
She points at a bed on the other side of the room, below a poster of Jesus, blond and blue-eyed, raising his hand as if giving a blessing.
"That is where my children sleep when they visit," she says.
“At night she is tormented by the hard choices the family must face: Should her husband and American children come live with her in Mexico? Or should they stay in the United States, separated perhaps forever, clinging to hope that she may one day be allowed to legally return?” For now, Garcia de Rayos’s children,17-year-old Angel and 15-year-old Jackie, stay here and visit her during school breaks. But they shouldn’t have to move to be with their mom, because this is their country. This was Garcia de Rayos’s country, too, until the day a man who said he’d target so-called “bad hombres” was sworn into office and instead targeted a mom who just trying to work hard and provide for her kids.
Garcia de Rayos first fell onto ICE radar in 2008, when she was swept up in one of the workplace raids by former Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio. She had been using a stolen Social Security number in order to work and was thrown into ICE custody for months until she was released on bond. But for years, Garcia de Rayos was considered low priority for deportation and was issued a work permit so she could work legally, “which she used to return to her job at Golfland Sunsplash, this time legally.” But, “then Trump was elected”:
Before going to her check-in, Garcia de Rayos said she knew there was a possibility ICE would arrest and deport her. But in the back of her mind, she thought the agency might not follow through so quickly on Trump's order.
The Rev. Ken Heintzelman, the pastor at Shadow Rock United Church of Christ, offered to let Garcia de Rayos take sanctuary from ICE inside the church, where six immigrants facing deportation have lived since June 2014.
But Garcia de Rayos said she declined. She needed to keep working to help support her family.
The other option was to try hiding from ICE. But ICE knew where she lived. And she said she didn't want to be always looking over her shoulder.
Looking back, Garcia de Rayos says she doesn't have any regrets about turning herself in to ICE. Showing up for the check-in was the right thing to do, she said. A devout Catholic, she prayed before the ICE check-in that she wouldn't be deported.
Like deported Michigan dad Jorge Garcia and too many others, Garcia de Rayos communicates with her children through FaceTime and messaging apps. She’s still fighting to be reunited with her family in the U.S., but with a felony on her record, “she would still face the challenge of removing a 10-year ban from returning for having lived in the U.S. illegally. If she comes back illegally, she risks being permanently banned. Adding to the challenges are Republican-led proposals in the House and Senate backed by Trump that, if passed, would eliminate Garcia de Rayos' children and sister from sponsoring her for a green card”:
Garcia de Rayos picks up her phone and presses the keys, calling her daughter in Mesa. Jackie appears.
For the next several minutes, Garcia de Rayos is no longer separated from her family.
She asks her children in Spanish how their day has gone.
Jackie tells her she's been sick and stayed home from school.
Garcia de Rayos asks what their grandma brought over for them to eat since their father is out that night attending a prayer meeting at church.
"She made me the noodle soup you used to make," Jackie tells her.
In the background, Jackie's brother, Angel, is clowning around.
"Angel, stop!" Jackie yells, in English.
Angel then gets on the phone. He's also been sick, with allergies, he tells his mom.
I love you so much, Garcia de Rayos repeats over and over in Spanish. Take care of yourselves.
"Los quiero mucho. Cuidense. Adios."
Then the screen on her phone goes dark.
Guadalupe de Rayos suddenly looks very alone, sitting on her bed holding the phone in her hand.
"I think only a miracle can help me," Garcia de Rayos told Daniel Gonzales of the Arizona Republic. "I hope God touches those people's hearts so that they may take that felony off my record." But it shouldn’t have to take a miracle for the immigration system to work, it should take elected leaders doing their damn jobs. And until we get accountability for our current legislators, boot out mass deportation enablers, and sweep in new leaders who will finally mend this broken immigration system and dismantle the mass cruelty of ICE, it will continue to claim more families, like Garcia de Rayos’, as its victims.