Communicating via video is different», recalls the youngest child, Carlos. «During in-person classes at school, we could go out to the garden». The mother, April, does not know when they will be able to leave the house again. Like all family members, April spoke with France Press under a pseudonym. The family arrived in the United States from Mexico a year and a half ago to seek asylum and is still awaiting a decision. «I don't even go out to take out the trash», April told France Press. Due to April, a housewife, and her husband stopping going to work, a neighbor helped them with groceries. «It's hard for me, as the breadwinner of this family, to feel helpless», said Rigoberto. The parents know that they will eventually be able to leave the house, «but things won't go back to how they were», according to Rigoberto. About a month ago, Esmeralda, Kevin, and Carlos stopped going to school in Minneapolis, fearing the immigration police that have spread throughout this Midwestern US city. They are now confined to their apartment and receiving lessons remotely. «If I want to go out, I don't go past the hallway on our floor», says 12-year-old Kevin. Like many immigrant children in Minneapolis, Kevin is learning online after schools abandoned it after the COVID-19 pandemic. Remote learning has become a pressing necessity for some members of immigrant families, as people are being forced to stay home due to a mass deportation campaign ordered by President Donald Trump. After immigration police raided Esmeralda's high school about a month ago, her mother April decided to prevent all her children from leaving the house. «Sometimes I stay up until dawn», she said. She added that the last time she left the house was on December 3, more than two months ago. At the same time, the curtains had been closed for five consecutive weeks. «Then we have lunch and stay here at the computer longer for class and to do homework», she says. She added that turning their table into a classroom and their home into a shelter is «strange», «exhausting», and «boring». Kevin misses his friends and teachers. April and her husband Rigoberto are increasingly worried about their children under the self-imposed quarantine. «They ask why this is happening, or why we are hiding if we haven't done anything wrong, and how long this situation will last», said Rigoberto. The father, a mechanic, hasn't been to his workshop for over a month, even though it's not far. In December, federal immigration agents spread out across Minneapolis, and now these masked, well-armed agents can be seen everywhere. «When we know they are near, we turn off the TV and say: kids, don't make noise, kids, be quiet», April said. «We can see each other, but we are not completely together. And all of this has had a negative impact on April, who barely sleeps. «We will always live in fear», she said. «We don't even let them laugh». Immigration police track people in similar situations after the Trump administration began reviewing the legal status of about 5,600 refugees in Minnesota who have not yet received a «green card». A federal judge issued a temporary restraining order last month, preventing the administration from detaining refugees waiting for permanent residency in the state. On one February morning, the children woke up to start their lessons. 15-year-old Esmeralda told France Press: «We are getting more and more classes».
