Latinos in Philadelphia say ICE immigration raids have paralyzed their lives and the local economy

For Philadelphia’s Latino community, daily life now revolves around survival, fear, and anxiety. The effects are already visible in a local economy that depends on this community.

On a quiet Wednesday afternoon, 9th Street in South Philadelphia is emptier than Pedro Ríos Sandoval has ever seen it. His restaurant, Mole Poblano, doesn’t have a single customer, an unusual sight after more than 10 years in business. In all his time running the Mexican restaurant, he says he has never experienced such a severe economic downturn.

Now, he adds, nearly all the Latino-owned small businesses on 9th Street are “just surviving” in the wake of the immigration raids that have hit the city. On top of this financial strain is his fear of deportation.

“I am very afraid to go out because at any moment I could be detained and never return,” said the Mexican business owner. “Just by looking at our faces, they can tell we are Latinos, Mexicans, Hondurans, Guatemalans. That’s enough for them to detain us, drag us away, and send us back to our country.”

For Antonio Díaz Chávez, a baker at Las Lomas Bakery, “the economy is in the gutter.” He says fear of persecution has already had a direct economic impact on 9th Street, and if the situation continues, expects Latino-owned businesses there to close.

According to Rolando Ramírez, who has lived in South Philly for eight years, people used to have to step aside on 9th Street to make room for the crowds walking, eating, and shopping on one of the streets historically known for its concentration of Latino small businesses.

“And today, look… no people. All we see are cars going up and down,” Ramírez said.

For Ramírez and his neighbor, who preferred to remain anonymous for security reasons, the fear and anxiety they feel the moment they step outside their homes is unprecedented. Both, originally from Guatemala, say that returning to their country would be better than living under constant threat.

“Now we go out to work and we have to keep our eyes peeled to see what might happen,” Ramírez said. “You can’t go out to buy your things anymore because you feel like the enemy is watching you everywhere, seeing where you are.”

For Ríos Sandoval, the American dream that many Latinos once held is changing. It is no longer about saving money to build a better future in the United States; now it is about saving as much as possible to return to their home countries or to set aside something for their families in case they are deported.

“Before, we were free to spend money because we had hope for a better future,” said Ríos Sandoval. “Now we are not free to spend, but to save as much and as quickly as possible so that we can do something in my country if I am detained.”

Fears spreads throughout Norris Square residents and organizations

The fear of deportation persists even among U.S. citizens, particularly within the Puerto Rican community.

Julia Ponce, a Puerto Rican who has lived in Norris Square in North Philadelphia for 40 years, has never felt so afraid to walk the streets of her neighborhood, known for its large Boricua and Dominican population. She now carries her passport wherever she goes because, she said, she could be detained solely on the basis of her skin color and hair.

“I’m terrified that they might take me away,” Ponce said. “Sometimes at home, I’m afraid to open the door, and I think about how to be ready if something happens to me— even though you can never truly prepare for something like that.”

Ponce’s feelings are shared by her neighbors, Latino business owners, and organizations that work directly with the Norris Square community.

According to Evelyn Matos, Youth & Family Services Manager at the Norris Square Neighborhood Project, the cultural and community organization has had to take precautionary measures, such as changing locks and installing cameras, due to insecurity and fear.

Matos has also observed the economic impact of business closures in the area and the lack of residents from public spaces like Norris Square Park, where neighbors once gathered to play dominoes and connect with one another.

Vilma Portillo’s small business, La Esquina del Bronco, is among the Latino food establishments hit hard by a decline in customers in Norris Square. While she once welcomed an average of 30 customers a day, now receives only a handful. Even so, her resilience and Christian faith keep her hopeful that she can keep the business open after serving the community for roughly 17 years.

Looking ahead in Norris Square, youth instructor Guillermo Caro of the Norris Square Neighborhood Project warned that recent deportations could permanently alter the behavior of the Latino community, noting that “life will never be the same again.”

How deportations are reshaping economic mobility for Latino families

One of the priorities of the first-generation of Latino migrants is their children’s future. Most Latino parents want their children to be more educated and more professionally successful than they were able to be. This ability to move up the economic ladder, especially when a person is born into poverty, is called economic mobility.

According to research conducted by Opportunity Insights at Harvard University, economic mobility is declining for Philadelphia’s low-income children. Given current federal immigration policies, the economic outlook for second- and third-generation immigrants could decline even further.

According to Dr. Michelle Carrera, CEO of the organization Xiente, when a sector of the community is afraid to leave their homes, stops spending at local small businesses, or can no longer go to work as usual, economic insecurity deepens and triggers a domino effect across the city.

“When you think about economic mobility, you really have to think about how we break the cycle of poverty,” said Dr. Carrera. “I don’t see a Philadelphia that can be competitive without our being able to maximize the talent of the Latino community and the opportunities we can offer them, so they can contribute and maximize their economic contribution to the region.”

Dr. Carrera’s analysis is reflected in the experiences of these Latino-owned businesses, organizations, and residents in North and South Philadelphia, which exemplify the economic insecurity currently being felt and the challenges that future generations will face if federal immigration policies remain unchanged.

Still, there is hope for Dr. Carrera and the work being carried out by community organizations and leaders.

“Latinos are a remarkably resilient people,” said Dr. Carrera. This resilience is reflected in stories of individuals like  Ríos Sandoval, Díaz Chávez, Ramírez, Ponce, and Portillo.

Despite fear, declining income, and uncertainty, many Latino families and business owners continue showing up every day to sustain their communities.

This article was originally published by 2 Puntos Platform and Metro Philadelphia. They are among 30 news organizations powering the Philadelphia Journalism Collaborative. Follow us at @PHLJournoCollab. This article is part of a national initiative exploring how geography, policy, and local conditions influence access to opportunity. Find more stories at economicopportunitylab.com/.