Christmas has always been a time of warmth and tradition for Gloria Sanchez. Music, food, decorations, small rituals that made the season feel joyful.
This year feels different.
“Christmas is beautiful, but also sad because of everything that’s happening … you still try to find the strength,” Sanchez said in Spanish.
Sanchez is an undocumented immigrant from Sinaloa, Mexico. KPBS is not using her full name because of her fear of deportation. She is 49 years old and has lived in the United States for 25 years. These days, she rarely leaves her house.
Fear has crept into daily life for many immigrant families, reshaping how and if they celebrate the holidays.
A recent KFF/New York Times survey found that 63% of likely undocumented immigrants say they have avoided traveling this year, worried about drawing attention to their immigration status.
“Right now, we leave the house and we don’t know if we’re going to come back,” Sanchez said.
Her husband, a gardener, is also undocumented. The possibility of losing him weighs heavily on her.
“He has been the backbone of this household … imagine if they take him away … the family falls apart,” she said.
The stress has taken a toll.
“I feel frustrated, stressed … sometimes I get depressed. Sometimes I don’t even want to go out or eat,” Sanchez said.
Much of her comfort now comes from staying inside with her dogs.
“They’re what make me happy … they take away my stress, they take everything away,” she said.
Still, she tries to hold onto the spirit of the season.
“Decorating our little home so it looks cheerful … I finally found the motivation,” Sanchez said.
One tradition she refused to give up this year was honoring the Virgin of Guadalupe, one of the most important religious celebrations in Mexican culture. Traditionally, families gather before dawn for mass, music, prayer, and gratitude.
“I’m going to take the risk,” Sanchez said days before the mass. “No matter what happens, I’m going.”
Sanchez arrived at the church at about 4:30 in the morning on Friday. Inside, incense filled the air. Mariachis sang in praise, Aztec dancers’ feet pounded the floor, prayers moved softly through the pews.
Sanchez raised her hands and prayed.
“I give thanks to my God and to my Virgin who has taken care of me and protected me,” she said.
At Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish in Barrio Logan, Father Hung Nguyen said Sanchez’s fears are widely shared.
“It's really important for the people to come here because they feel like it's a little bit of part of their tradition, their pueblito.” Nguyen said.
But attendance has dropped, the parish has lost about 300 members following immigration raids, Nguyen said.
“They don't know who to trust. People are fearful that their neighbors might turn them into immigration and so people are carrying a lot of burdens, a lot of stress, a lot of anxiety.” he said. “People are afraid to come. For sure, here in our parish we have seen a decrease in mass attendance on Sundays.”
Still, for those who make it inside, he said faith provides relief.
“(They) forgot about immigration raids, forgot about all these things that they're struggling with and people just being joyful. People were celebrating their faith, their expressions. And the people are giving thanks to Our Lady of Guadalupe,” Nguyen said.
Beyond the church, other holiday traditions have also changed.
Tamales, often made and shared during Christmas gatherings, are a staple in many Latino and Mexican immigrant households. In Barrio Logan, Fernando León sells Oaxacan tamales, but this season has been different.
“Sales are down this year. People are afraid. Many are saving money in case something bad happens instead of ordering food for celebrations,” León said in Spanish.
Sanchez said her family won’t be celebrating or cooking the way they normally do.
“Forget about gifts,” she said. “As long as we have life and health, that’s enough.”
But hope persists for Sanchez, and many others. She is holding onto the life they’ve built in a place she calls home.
