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How an errand for a 12-year-old immigrant in Minneapolis became an underground operation

SCOTT DETROW, HOST:

For the last two weeks, federal immigration agents have been on the streets of Minneapolis. The Department of Homeland Security says there have been thousands of arrests, that they're getting criminals off the street. Some people in the city have told NPR it's created a sense of terror. NPR's Jasmine Garsd brings us the story of one 12-year-old girl who desperately needed to run one errand and how it turned into a complex underground operation.

JASMINE GARSD, BYLINE: On the morning of January 17 in southern Minneapolis, something very ordinary happened. A 12-year-old girl got her period for the first time. Everything that happened after that was out of the ordinary. We're calling this girl E., her first initial. Her family asked for this because they're undocumented, and their neighborhood has been the target of immigration raids. In fact, everyone in this story requested anonymity out of fear of retaliation from ICE.

E: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: E. woke up that morning. She'd noticed she had her period. Like many girls, she freaked out a little. But unlike many girls, E. had been hiding in her house for the last few weeks. She hadn't even been going to school. She thought about going to get menstrual pads. She called her dad at work. He's a single father. He told her no.

UNIDENTIFIED FATHER: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: Do not go out into the streets, he told her. You have to stay inside. He himself isn't going outside unless a volunteer is driving him. He feels it makes him less likely to be stopped by ICE agents. He's not the only one. A lot of immigrants are relying on their neighbors to drive them around the city. So her dad couldn't just rush back home. This launched a community effort involving a complex network of local volunteers. First, the dad called his pastor. The pastor called a church community leader, a woman. Her name is Lisette. She says E.'s dad was scared.

LISETTE: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: "He said to me, Lisette, help me, please. My daughter is bleeding a lot. She's alone in the house." Lisette reassured him, told him to stay calm.

LISETTE: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: But she herself was too nervous to go out into the streets. So Lisette called a neighbor whose name is Ade. Here she is.

ADE: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: Over the phone, Lisette told her, I need a favor. There's a girl. She's scared. She's crying. She doesn't know what to do. Ade paused. She wanted to help. Any other time she says she would have gone out and done it. But since the killing of Renee Macklin Good by an ICE agent, she's been trying to stay inside. So she called her daughter. Enter Fanny. Fanny is a U.S. citizen, but she too worries about driving around and being racially profiled.

FANNY: Even if you're, like, a citizen, just because I am Hispanic, they're still going to want to take me.

GARSD: Immigrants we spoke to in Minneapolis say they've been making this calculation for weeks - whether or not it's safe to go out. And often, they decide it's not. In response, there's been massive community mobilization. On a lot of street corners, you'll see neighbors standing guard. They're looking out for agents so they can alert their neighbors. We spoke to one watcher who asked to be called by her initials, J.B. J.B. is 69 years old. She was standing in the blustering wind.

JB: I don't care if it's 20 below. I don't care. We'll dress for it. We'll be here. This is way more important than a little chill air.

GARSD: Ade and Fanny say the street watchers make them feel safer. So they decided to do it, to drive to E.'s house with some pads.

ADE: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: Ade says they parked in the back alley. It felt too risky to park out front. E. let them in through the back door. And that's how, several hours later, five people in a city-wide network of volunteers got a 12-year-old girl her first menstrual pad. Here's E. the next day, talking to a nurse.

UNIDENTIFIED NURSE: How are you feeling?

E: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: "My tummy hurts," she told the nurse. This is an underground clinic for immigrants who are too scared to go to the doctor. The nurse comforted her.

UNIDENTIFIED NURSE: (Speaking Spanish), OK? So it can be, like, really scary when you get your period for the first time, but it's very normal.

GARSD: E. doesn't speak fluent English yet, but Lisette, the community leader who coordinated the whole operation, was there. She told her, this is going to happen to you once a month. And then she reminded her, you have an army of women behind you.

LISETTE: (Speaking Spanish).

GARSD: She told E., "We are made of a strong material. Even if we are drowning, we will find a way to stay afloat and get to the shore." Jasmine Garsd, NPR News, Minneapolis.

DETROW: And earlier today, E. was relocated to what her pastor describes as a safe house due to an increase in ICE activity in her neighborhood. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

Jasmine Garsd is an Argentine-American journalist living in New York. She is currently NPR's Criminal Justice correspondent and the host of The Last Cup. She started her career as the co-host of Alt.Latino, an NPR show about Latin music. Throughout her reporting career she's focused extensively on women's issues and immigrant communities in America. She's currently writing a book of stories about women she's met throughout her travels.