When federal agents flooded Minneapolis in Operation Metro Surge, the city’s immigrant community went into lockdown. Even 12 weeks after the raids ended, people still feel the sting in their stomachs, saying the anxiety is a lingering scar.
Aliah, a 20‑year‑old refugee with a green card, left Afghanistan in 2021, hoping the new life would mean classes and jobs, not raids. She says, “We’re still a little scared,” because she and her family fear that federal officers could return at any time.
Fatima, 19, is a Somali refugee who just went back to her high‑school after months online. She too wonders, “If they come back, what are you going to do?” and acknowledges that the fear of an invasion keeps pulling her attention to the streets.
People protest against Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) during the Cinco de Mayo parade in Saint Paul, Minnesota, on 2 May. AFP via Getty Images.
The crackdown caused a 30‑million‑dollar loss every month on Lake Street, a bundled community of immigrant‑owned shops, and a spike in eviction filings statewide. Businesses closed in a 48‑hour span, and workers in Minneapolis and St. Paul lost lives worth $240 million, according to a U.S. Immigration Policy Center estimate.
While ICE’s presence in the city has faded, federal agents still linger in the suburbs, sometimes demanding proof of employees’ immigration status. That’s why Stanford teacher Katie says, “The terror inflicted on this community was significant, and its effects on Minneapolis and Lake Street will be long‑lasting.”
US Citizenship and Immigration Services announced January that it would re‑vet 5,600 refugees, with some being sent to ICE detention out of state. The move left many unsure of their status, turning a quiet life into a “very big period of ongoing uncertainty.”
In short, the raid’s footprint goes beyond the headlines. It is a new as well as a steady reminder that people living in Minneapolis and St. Paul are still living in fear for their safety, employment and future.
