Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Follow Us:
Top Stories

How social media alerts shape daily decisions for undocumented youth

News

Social media icons
A generation raised on social media and with far different priorities would write a vastly different Constitution than any of its predecessors.
Chesnot/Getty Images

SAN DIEGO - Every morning before leaving the house, Mateo opens Instagram.

He is not looking for entertainment. He is checking whether it is safe to move around the city.


Mateo, a 22-year-old from Argentina, follows the Instagram account @officialarturoo, a page that posts short videos and alerts about immigration enforcement activity, police encounters, and incidents affecting immigrant communities in Southern California.

Mateo is undocumented. The names of the young people in this story have been changed to protect their identities.

“If I see something about ICE in a certain area, I just don’t go there,” Mateo said. “Sometimes that means changing my route to work or deciding not to go out at all.”

For undocumented young people like him, social media alerts have become part of how they navigate daily life.

Across San Diego County, some immigrant communities are increasingly relying on grassroots Instagram accounts, WhatsApp groups, and TikTok videos to track possible immigration enforcement activity. These informal networks often move faster than traditional news outlets and circulate information within minutes.

The account Mateo follows is part of that ecosystem. With tens of thousands of followers, @officialarturoo regularly posts videos from streets, parking lots, and neighborhoods across the region, warning viewers about potential enforcement activity or documenting confrontations involving police or immigration agents.

For some followers, the page functions almost like a community alert system.

Carlos, a 20-year-old undocumented worker from Mexico, says he checks the account several times a day.

“When you don’t have papers, you are always thinking about risk,” he said. “If someone posts that ICE is near a Home Depot or a certain street, people share it right away. It spreads fast.”

Carlos works part-time in construction and often looks for jobs through word of mouth or day labor opportunities. He says the posts sometimes influence where he decides to go.

“If there’s something happening in an area, I might avoid going there for a few days,” he said. “Maybe it’s true, maybe it’s not. But you don’t want to take chances.”

Across the United States, an estimated 11 million people live without legal immigration status, according to Pew Research Center data. Millions more live in mixed-status families where at least one household member is undocumented.

Advocacy groups say fear of immigration enforcement remains a daily reality for many of these communities. In fiscal year 2023, Immigration and Customs Enforcement carried out more than 140,000 deportations nationwide, according to federal data. Even in states with policies that limit cooperation with federal immigration authorities, enforcement actions still take place.

For others, the alerts provide a sense of awareness in an environment where reliable information can be difficult to find.

Andrea, a 19-year-old from Guatemala who arrived in the United States as a teenager, says she started following similar accounts after hearing about immigration arrests near a transit stop she uses regularly.

“People in my community send the posts to each other,” she said. “Sometimes my friends send me screenshots and say, don’t go there today.”

She says the posts can be both helpful and stressful.

“On one hand, it helps you know what’s happening,” Andrea said. “But at the same time, it makes you feel like you always have to be watching.”

Social media has long played a role in how immigrant communities share information. Platforms like Instagram and WhatsApp allow individuals to post videos quickly and distribute warnings to thousands of people in seconds.

For communities that may distrust official channels or fear contacting authorities, these digital networks can become an important source of information.

But the speed of social media also means that information is not always verified before it spreads.

Posts that warn about immigration enforcement activity can spread quickly across group chats and feeds, sometimes causing confusion when the details are incomplete or inaccurate.

For undocumented youth navigating daily life, however, the distinction between confirmed reports and community alerts is not always the most urgent concern.

What matters is speed.

“When someone posts something, you see it immediately,” Mateo said. “It’s like a warning system.”

Even if some alerts later prove exaggerated, he says many people still prefer having the information.

“If there’s a chance it could help you avoid a problem, you pay attention,” he said.

Carlos says the posts also shape how conversations unfold within immigrant communities.

“People talk about it at work or in group chats,” he said. “Someone will say, did you see the video, and then everyone starts checking.”

Andrea says the constant flow of alerts can sometimes feel overwhelming, but she still keeps the account in her feed.

“It’s part of how we stay informed,” she said.

In the absence of formal systems designed to warn undocumented communities about enforcement activity, many young immigrants say social media has become an unofficial guide for navigating daily life.

For Mateo, checking Instagram before leaving the house has become routine.

“You just want to know what’s happening out there,” he said. “It’s a way to be a little more careful.”

Alex Segura is a bilingual, multiple-platform journalist based in Southern California.


Read More

Amid Trump’s Immigration Crackdown, Immigrant Mothers Carry a Weight

Pregnant asylum-seeker Yaoska, 32, comforts her two-year-old son who was not feeling well, inside a motel room where she and her children are living after her husband was deported to Nicaragua.

(AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell)

Amid Trump’s Immigration Crackdown, Immigrant Mothers Carry a Weight

For Kimberly Alvarez, memories of federal agents whisking her husband away at 26 Federal Plaza last fall come back in jarring flashes.

The couple had just finished their first court appearance as asylum seekers from Venezuela when immigration agents arrested him, then turned to her and simply said, “you can leave.” She remembers the chaos, the confusion, how no one would answer where her husband was being taken.

Keep ReadingShow less
Democracy on the Line: LGBTQ+ Movements as Critical to Democracy

People parading with a giant rainbow flag

Democracy on the Line: LGBTQ+ Movements as Critical to Democracy

In recent years, LGBTQ+ people and rights have been increasingly targeted as part of a wave of authoritarian illiberal politics, promoting a global “anti-gender” movement. These attacks on queer people have been characterized as “the canary in the coal mine”; an early warning sign of wider democratic erosion. Autocratic leaders have exploited anti-LGBTQ+ public sentiment to crack down on freedom of expression, freedom of the press, the right to organize, and to silence dissenting voices. In response, many LGBTQ+ movements are re-emphasizing their roles as democratic actors.

LGBTQ+ Rights and Democracy

Keep ReadingShow less
America was much more of a mess at the bicentennial than it is today

Crowds fill the street during an Americana Fair on 52nd Street in the borough of Manhattan, New York City, New York, 20th June 1976.

(TNS)

America was much more of a mess at the bicentennial than it is today

As we approach the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, America is in a pretty foul mood, and I understand why. For starters, Washington is broken, prices are high and rising, and AI is scaring the stuffing out of people.

Understanding, however, is not synonymous with agreement. In other words, some complaints about America in 2026 have more empirical weight than others. Crime may be too high, but it’s been going down for a while.

Keep ReadingShow less
The first Indigenous women in Congress carry a legacy older than American democracy itself

In 2018, Sharice Davids and Deb Haaland became the first two Native American women elected to Congress. They are trailblazers from a long lineage of women whose ancestors were original inhabitants of the land that became America.

(Sarah Porter for The 19th; Getty Images, AP images)

The first Indigenous women in Congress carry a legacy older than American democracy itself

In the lead-up to our country’s 250th anniversary, Errin Haines is writing a series of columns to contemplate the complicated expansion of our democracy. Subscribe to The Amendment newsletter.

Nearly three months before the signing of the Declaration of Independence, Abigail Adams had a warning for her husband, John, one of its authors: Remember the ladies.

Keep ReadingShow less