By Briana Mendez-Padilla
LOS ANGELES — At the entrance to the parking lot of the Metropolitan Detention Center in Los Angeles, where families visit detained relatives, graffiti on the pavement reads “ICE is not welcome” in large blue letters.
This is where the group Godmothers of the Disappeared pause, pink ribbons tied around their necks, to recite the names of forerunners in their fight for social justice.
Since March of last year, the inter-denominational group of religious leaders and community members has gathered every Tuesday at noon to pray, sing, and march for those detained by federal immigration agents.
Their movement is inspired by the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo in Argentina. That group formed in the 1970s as part of a peaceful resistance movement against the South American country’s military dictatorship. It gained global recognition in part for the mothers who brought flowers to military officers while requesting the return of their children.
Standing in front of the detention center, the women recite names including Frederick Douglass, Harvey Milk, and Malcolm X, among others.
“We believe we don’t march alone, that there is a long history of social justice forebears we haven’t even heard of or learned from, but who are with us,” said Rosa Manríquez, a member of the Immaculate Heart community and a parishioner at Misión Dolores. “So we recite that and ask them to pray with us. Not for us, but with us.”
For several years, Manríquez has also been part of the organization Clergy and Laity for Economic Justice (CLUE). She said that as ICE became “militarized, more visible, and more powerful” under the current administration, she reflected on how communities had organized to fight against repression in the past.
She would eventually bring the idea of the Godmothers of the Disappeared to CLUE.
Three pillars
CLUE is a coalition of diverse congregations with a progressive agenda centered around workers’ rights and economic justice issues. The organization is also working throughout Southern California to protect migrant workers and their families through rapid response networks, rights training, and a bond fund for detained immigrants.
According to Manríquez, the Godmothers of the Disappeared have three fundamental principles:
- Demand the release of those detained by the government and their return to their families.
- Bear witness and reject the divisive “us versus them” narrative, offering a humanizing voice to remind everyone—from immigrants to citizens, and federal agents—are someone’s children and that their lives are deeply interconnected.
- Urge ICE agents and other officials to cease participating in the persecution of the community and instead request transfers, declare themselves conscientious objectors, and refuse to comply with unlawful orders.
“Many of them wanted to be warriors, protectors, and champions, and they wanted to be the ones who did truly extraordinary things for this country. And we are there, like their mothers and grandmothers, to tell them: ‘This is not the way, you have been lied to. You cannot continue doing this,’” Manríquez commented.
Raising voices
As part of the weekly protest, members step forward to “bear witness” and share what they have seen or experiences. Witnesses recount stories of people currently in detention centers, or of those affected by raids.
“We believe that many of these stories are not receiving the attention they deserve, so these vigils are important to share the experiences we encounter and to remind everyone why we continue to demonstrate until our demands are met,” said Jennifer Coria, who works for CLUE.
A few weeks ago, Reverend Tanya López shared the story of Josué, a young husband and father of three who was detained in June while attending his routine appointment at the immigration office. He spent time at the Metropolitan Detention Center before being transferred to the Adelanto ICE Processing Center and, eventually, to another center in California City.
López spoke of the inhumane conditions Josué faced, from freezing temperatures and meager food to abuse by guards.
“He told me that everything in there is designed to break your spirit. He said, ‘They want you to give up here,’ but that the power of people coming together, like these vigils they hear about, continues to be a light for many, helping them not to give up,” López said, adding that Josué has now been reunited with his family thanks to a bond hearing.
The following Tuesday, Valarie Kaur, the founder of the Revolutionary Love Project, shared testimony honoring Renee Good, the mother and poet fatally shot by an ICE agent in Minnesota.
“The murder of Renee Good is a continuation of the violence that Black, Indigenous, and people of color have long faced,” Kaur stated. “They say it was her fault. They think we’ll believe it. They think we won’t care, just like they don’t care. But we do care.”
Faith in action
The size of the group varies from week to week, but the people who gather are diverse in faith, gender, and age.
Carlos Rincón is a pastor at Victorious Life Center Church who attends the vigil almost every Tuesday. He has been a pastor for nearly 40 years, and many members of his congregation are migrants or from mixed-status families, so it is important for him to speak on their behalf.
“I feel that the church needs to be here, in the streets, it needs to be on the side of the people who are suffering right now,” Rincón said. “I will continue to do this as long as it is necessary and as long as I am healthy enough to do it.”
Peggy Smith, a member of an Episcopal church in La Crescenta, has been attending these vigils for the past six months.
“I am here because I want to support all the people who do not have the privilege that I have had and who now suffer fear when they see their relatives imprisoned, even though they are not criminals, due to an administration that wants the privilege of the white man to prevail in this country,” he said.
The importance of consistency
The Godmothers of the Disappeared have become a constant presence. As they march, each person carries a white or purple daisy in one hand and a prayer card in the other.
As they cross the corner and form up on the small stretch of sidewalk where they are allowed to stand, the shouts and whistles of those inside can sometimes be heard, while the group continues praying and holds their flowers in the air, pointing them toward the detainees.
The flowers and the weekly vigil serve a dual purpose, López explained. On one hand, they show the detainees that people have not abandoned them. For the officers and those who work at the center, the flowers are meant to sow the seeds of compassion.
“Those who work there are also witnesses that we haven’t given up, that we will come every week,” López said. “We are a nonviolent and loving presence, and we hope to reflect God’s love, even to them.”
Many of the attendees cling to the historical impact of the nonviolent protest.
“We know we can’t fight hate with more hate; that makes us the very oppressor we’re fighting against,” said Anusha Mehar, a leader of the movement with the Revolutionary Love Project. “We have to fight this oppression and this hate with love, because that’s what saves us.”
After a final prayer, the group dispersed, leaving a small pile of daisies on the pavement as their last testament to peace.
This story was first published in Spanish by Impuslo News and is reprinted here with permission. Briana Mendez-Padilla is a California Local News Fellow with the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism.
