I am an immigrant. There was no doubt in my mind that I would be entering 2025 with anything other than fear for what the new administration would mean for the over twenty million non-US born individuals living in the United States, many of my loved ones included. What I hadn’t been able to predict, however, was the loss I felt on behalf of Jamestown, as we forfeited the opportunity to welcome new neighbors to our community.

My exposure to our flawed immigration system, both through personal experience and through my work as director of the New Neighbors Coalition program, would not allow me to bury my head in the sand when it came to the president’s plan for deporting the “bad ones”. I was never particularly confident in the administration’s claims of just focusing on violent criminals. And now as the Department of Homeland Security pilfers information on unaccompanied minors, weaponizes immigrant tax data through the IRS, and rolls back policy designating schools, churches, and hospitals as places protected from ICE raids, the lies are unmistakable. The federal government has begun targeting children, taxpayers, people of faith, and those in need of healthcare in their mass deportation efforts, less than 90 days into Trump’s presidency. It was never truly about the “bad ones”. As each day passes, our government continues to broaden its scope, and most recently, has deported immigrants to a prison, in a foreign country, on flimsy evidence, without due process, and in defiance of a court order from a federal judge.

I knew many of the people that arrived in the United States, under a Temporary Protective Status designation from places suffering from horrible conflict, such as Syria, Ukraine, Afghanistan, Nicaragua, and Venezuela, would likely not have their status extended, even with many facing likely death, torture, or imprisonment for their beliefs if sent back to their countries of origin. I also knew those who came to the US seeking safety, after having faced violence, extortion, and threats of bodily harm, from countries such as Colombia, El Salvador, and Guatemala would find it significantly harder to prove their asylum cases. There was never any doubt that this administration would carry out unrelenting ICE raids with blatant disregard for due process and human dignity, without consideration for the wellbeing of women, children, or the elderly. Our government is acting more and more like the governments immigrants flee from, with an indifference to corruption, the rule of law, and protections afforded to all who find themselves on US soil by the Constitution.

The culture shock I experienced moving to Jamestown from the DC area had many similarities to what my family and I experienced when we first moved to the United States years ago. The uneasiness of knowing very few people, unsure of where to find things, and confused about how things work made me anxious and insecure. It wasn’t long, however, before I fell in love with this city and its people. I am proud to be a part of this community and find myself caring for it in ways I didn’t know I could. Like a lot of the Rust Belt, Jamestown has been plagued by a decades-long population decline, with no end in sight. Local businesses are struggling to keep their doors open year-round, there is a lack of investment in quality housing, and at times, there is a feeling of apathy and jadedness in many who live here, making it difficult to envision a city that is thriving the way we want.

When we first began to participate in refugee resettlement efforts, I was incredibly excited for the prospect of welcoming immigrants in Jamestown, even before I had the pleasure of working with them. How exciting to have people moving TO Jamestown! The thought of more children playing in parks and attending schools, families investing in housing, contributing to the workforce, opening restaurants, and seeing opportunity in Jamestown felt like a beacon of hope for the city I had come to care for so much. I cherished the idea of others like me, who came to love Jamestown and decided to make it their home alongside lifelong locals who had the privilege of staying in their hometown.

As much as I had worked to mentally prepare myself for the new administration, I could never have anticipated how much my heart would hurt for Jamestown in the wake of these immigration policy changes. I hadn’t realized, until it was taken away, the optimism I had felt for this city, and its potential reawakening. It wasn’t until I was forced to grieve what immigration could have done for this region, that I realized how hopeful I had been for Jamestown.

The use of immigrants as scapegoats for many of society’s ills is a tale as old as time. Politicians have continuously found them easy targets to blame for their own failures in prioritizing the health and safety of those who need it most, the working class. Despite the fearmongering, most immigrants embody many of the traits and values Americans view as essential to our society: a devotion to family and faith, a strong work ethic, and an appreciation of the freedoms that have made the US a beacon of hope to the abused, neglected, and poor of the world for countless generations.

As attacks on immigrants increase, including the detention and potential deportation of permanent American residents, asylum seekers, students, current visa holders, those authorized to work, and even US citizens, I find myself less hopeful each day in our ability to thoughtfully grow our local community. The pause of the federal Refugee Resettlement Program, the ending of the Temporary Status Program, and the increased barriers in an already difficult, arduous asylum process, we have lost the opportunity to grow the American Dream. We are depriving Jamestown of a future that I hope is not lost but feels farther away each day.

Momina Di Blasio is a Jamestown resident.