In a Tampa WhatsApp group with nearly 300 members, alerts pile up fast, one after another.
“Be very careful, Tampa! They’re out doing immigration checks!” a recent message said, sharing a video that appears to show police and immigration agents near a shopping mall around Hillsborough and Armenia avenues.
“Don’t go out today,” advised another.
New posts come in all day. They are from workers sharing photos of traffic stops, mothers who’ve seen police near schools. They spread warnings of immigration agents circling local businesses.
When President Donald Trump returned to office and rolled out a tough-on-immigration platform a year ago, families across Tampa Bay described fears about their future and the status of their immigration cases, many of which hung in limbo. In recent weeks, though, community advocates, lawyers and parents across the region say something has changed.
That fear has turned into panic.
Advocates and attorneys say the shift has become visible as immigration enforcement has grown more intense. Deaths in Minneapolis, where two U.S. citizens were shot in separate incidents by federal agents, made the anxiety worse, they said.
Now, even incidents that turn out to be false alarms or misunderstandings, such as county workers mistaken for federal agents, spread quickly online and amplify the sense of insecurity.
Recent surveys show Americans’ increasing opposition to how immigration enforcement is being carried out. Public concern grew after the fatal Minneapolis shootings of Renee Good on Jan. 7 and Alex Pretti on Jan. 24.
A PBS News/NPR/Marist survey conducted after the last shooting found that about 65% of Americans say ICE has “gone too far,” up from 54% last summer. In early February, a Quinnipiac University poll showed that disapproval of ICE’s enforcement tactics grew from 57% in mid-January to 63%. A survey by The Economist/YouGov found that 50% of Americans think Trump’s approach to immigration policy is “too harsh,” compared with 36% who say it’s “about right.”
Nonprofits that support immigrant rights say the enforcement climate is creating daily stress for families who feel they are living under constant scrutiny.
“Racial profiling is a real fear, including among American-born youth of indigenous descent,” said Renata Bozzetto, deputy director of the Florida Immigrant Coalition. “We get reports from our members and partners of restaurants losing business, churches having lower attendance and community events having very low turnout.”
Immigration attorney Milton Toro said the tension is not only spreading on social platforms. His office is receiving more than triple the number of calls compared with last year.
Instead of asking about paperwork or long-term cases, Toro said families are asking: “What do I do if ICE shows up today? Do I open the door? Who will take care of my children if I’m detained?”
“They sound frantic,” Toro said. “They are in distress and basically living something similar to what they lived in their country.”
The change is also affecting how community groups operate. Nancy Hernández, an advocate who distributes food and supplies at her nonprofit along Nebraska Avenue, said families have started asking if she could help them deliver food and supplies directly to their homes. They don’t want to be exposed to law enforcement.
Hernández, founder of the local group Mujeres Restauradas por Dios, or Women Restored by God, said it’s a valid concern. One morning in late January, she said she saw immigration agents driving around her nonprofit while her volunteers were preparing food. In five years since opening, she said she’s never seen anything like it.
Enterprising Latinas, a group that helps women start small businesses in Wimauma, organized an educational workshop this month so parents would know how and when to sign a legal power-of-attorney. The document allows a trusted person to represent children at school or in court, make medical decisions, and arrange care or travel if parents are deported.
Enterprising Latinas founder Elizabeth Gutiérrez said her group has stepped in at times when families felt confused or needed support, such as during hurricane season or the COVID-19 pandemic. This time, she said, parents are asking how to prepare in case they are arrested by immigration authorities.
The Rev. Andy Oliver of Allendale United Methodist Church in St. Petersburg said this sense of panic is no longer felt only by immigrant families but also by U.S. citizens.
“We are hearing from undocumented people and U.S. citizens alike who feel constantly on edge,” Oliver said.
Social workers have told Oliver that some survivors of domestic violence, sexual assault and other crimes don’t want to report what happened to them. They worry that seeking help could lead to detention or deportation.
“This moment feels heavier and more urgent than last year,” Oliver said. “That fear makes our entire community less safe.”
Department of Homeland Security spokesperson Tricia McLaughlin said in an email to the Tampa Bay Times that people in the country legally have no reason to worry.
“Why would people here legally be afraid? DHS doesn’t arrest people here legally. If there is fear it is because the media and politicians have manufactured it,” McLaughlin wrote.
In a statement provided by a spokesperson, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement concurred, saying that “elected officials choosing to fearmonger by distorting reality are doing a great disservice to our country.”
New rules enacted last year expanded cooperation between law enforcement agencies and federal immigration authorities. Local police say they haven’t noticed changes in reporting or community interactions.
“We are fortunate to have strong, positive relationships across Hillsborough County, and we work every day to preserve those bonds through consistent outreach and engagement,” Hillsborough Sheriff Chad Chronister said in a statement.
In St. Petersburg, police spokesperson Yolanda Fernandez said they have not noticed a decline in calls for service, “so we cannot determine whether someone isn’t reporting a crime,” she said.
Jessica Mackesy, a spokesperson for the Pinellas County Sheriff’s Office, said they have not seen any change “beyond the general concerns that people always express.” The Pasco Sheriff’s Office said the volume of tips has remained steady.
For others, such as protest organizers, tension and distress have fueled their mobilization. They said crowds are larger and respond faster than they did last year. In recent weeks, high school students nationwide, including hundreds at schools in Tampa Bay, have walked out of class to protest ICE.
“People are more focused and willing to stand up and loudly demand that they want ICE out of their cities,” said Yunqing Zheng, a member of the Tampa Immigrant Rights Committee, a group that has been organizing protests outside Tampa City Hall and the University of South Florida. “People are angry seeing people get murdered, and families get violently attacked and detained by federal agents without consequence.”
Recent demonstrations reflect a growing demand for action from across the political spectrum, said Silvio José Delgado, a community leader and advocate in Pinellas.
“There’s also a collective sense of feeling indignant, knowing that what we’re seeing isn’t the result of a particular choice or individual incident,” Delgado said.
Lisette Sánchez, an immigration attorney in Tampa, said her office feels constantly in “emergency mode.” People are asking questions such as how to protect their assets and whether voluntary departure might be the safest option.
“These weren’t common questions before,” Sánchez said.
Lily Castro, 37, a Nicaraguan mother in Tampa and a member of two local immigration groups on WhatsApp and Instagram, told the Times that the tone of the messages, videos and photos she’s been seeing is alarming.
“My sister does not leave the house, and when she goes to the supermarket she looks around with worry,” one user posted.
“I stay at home, but my husband works outside all day,” another wrote. “Many of us are like this. So much anxiety!”
“It was very hard,” added a person whose family recently had to discuss what to do if agents detained one of the parents. “We had to make a plan B to know how to react.”
In one group, three members said they would keep their children home after a series of photos and posts circulated on social media that showed what appeared to be immigration agents walking inside a school in Wimauma.
They later turned out to be county inspectors.
“There is a lot of fear, anxiety and panic,” Castro said. “That is not a life.”