In Maine, immigrants have built community. Federal agents鈥� arrival revealed unexpected bonds.
| Portland, Maine
As federal immigration agents spread across Portland, Maine, during Operation Catch of the Day, which began Jan. 20, Nina, like many other immigrants here, stayed home. Her daughter didn鈥檛 go to school, and Nina didn鈥檛 go to work, even though she knew she鈥檇 lose pay. But the risk of being detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) or another agency seemed too high.
Nina entered the United States from the Republic of Congo on a tourist visa before applying for asylum. In the eight years since, she鈥檚 worked to support herself and build a life for her daughter. Yet the surge shook her confidence in whether she truly had a home in Maine.
鈥淚 thought I finally had a place to, like, put my suitcases,鈥� she says, 鈥渨here I could at least sleep well, and then see my daughter going to school and having her life.
Why We Wrote This
Over decades, immigrants in and near Portland, Maine, have become part of the community 鈥� but many wondered what could happen when federal agents began enforcement action. They discovered an unexpected level of support.
鈥淚 didn鈥檛 expect [it] to be like this,鈥� she adds.
Nina, who asked that her full name be withheld because she worries about being targeted by immigration enforcement, was among tens of thousands of 鈥淣ew Mainers鈥� who moved to the state in the last 30 years. Thousands of refugees from Somalia have settled here since the early 2000s, according to news reports. They relocated from larger, warmer, and more diverse locales such as Atlanta, where refugee agencies had placed them, and largely settled in Lewiston, about 30 miles from Portland. Both communities have prided themselves on embracing immigrants.
As word spread that Maine offered safety and strong social services, the immigrant population grew, especially in Portland. Today, 鈥� roughly half of Maine鈥檚 foreign-born population, according to census data 鈥� call Greater Portland home. Maine鈥檚 immigrants have enmeshed themselves in the community by many metrics: About 50% have lived in the U.S. for 20 years or more, and three-quarters speak English, a report from the (MPI) found.
As January鈥檚 enforcement operation intensified, Nina and others in Portland discovered 鈥� in themselves and in their neighbors 鈥� that decades of coexistence had built a deep commitment to immigrants.
Portlanders pieced together networks to monitor enforcement activities, shuttle immigrant children to and from school, and deliver food to those unwilling to leave their homes. After a winter storm dumped a foot of snow on the state Jan. 25 and 26, neighbors shoveled cars out for immigrants who feared federal agents would detain them if they stepped outside. Protesters flooded the streets, braving biting temperatures even by Maine standards, and called for the surge to end.
鈥淚 have seen a community show up in ways that I didn鈥檛 think would happen,鈥� Moon Machar says. Ms. Machar鈥檚 family arrived in Maine as refugees from Ethiopia when she was a child. She has lived here most of her life.
The surge, she and others interviewed say, built new bonds between immigrants and U.S.-born residents.
鈥淚f ICE wasn鈥檛 here, I don鈥檛 think some of the people would have come out of their house and made it a point to connect with individuals from our community,鈥� she adds. (Listen to an excerpt of an interview with Moon Machar as she talks about her 鈥淎frican Mainer鈥� identity.)
Yet tension between immigrants and their new home has surfaced, as some have questioned America鈥檚 commitment to welcoming people from other shores. Similar feelings have ricocheted across the U.S., as President Donald Trump deploys immigration agents to fulfill his vow to deport people living in the U.S. unlawfully 鈥� about 14 million people. That number surged by some 3 million under President Joe Biden, who had relaxed some of Mr. Trump鈥檚 immigration policies. Despite repatriating more immigrants than any president since George H.W. Bush, Mr. Biden鈥檚 administration could not keep up with migrants attempting to enter the country. U.S. Border Patrol recorded some 7 million encounters at the southern border, compared with about 2 million during Mr. Trump鈥檚 first term. Such encounters are often used as a proxy for illegal crossings. Although Portland鈥檚 immigrants saw a flood of support during nine days in January, some now grapple with the realization that many in the country 鈥� and in Maine 鈥� support Mr. Trump鈥檚 immigration actions.
鈥淚t鈥檚 become very, very evident that I am 鈥榝rom away,鈥欌�� says Ms. Machar, an Army National Guard veteran, using a common term in Maine. 鈥淭here are individuals who do not want me here, regardless of my military contributions, regardless of all the good I try to do in the community, regardless of how proud I am to represent the state of Maine.鈥�
Enforcement surge makes its mark
Two weeks after the height of enforcement actions in Portland, Nina still feels a well of anxiety when she leaves her home. If she鈥檚 arrested, she thinks, she could be sent to a detention facility thousands of miles away, as has been the case in other incidents. What, she wonders, would happen to her daughter?
鈥淚 feel like all of us are getting put into the same basket, and they鈥檙e calling us 鈥榠llegal鈥� even though we鈥檙e not,鈥� she says.
Traditionally, asylum-seekers like Nina have been shielded from deportation and allowed to work while their cases move through the system. That process can take years. They can be detained by ICE for a variety of reasons, such as if the agency deems them a public safety threat or a flight risk. The Trump administration has in some cases deported asylum-seekers and, last year, issued a asylum applications 鈥減ending a comprehensive review.鈥�
The number of immigrants in the state swelled from just over 45,600 in 2010 to about 65,800 in 2024, according to census data. of Maine鈥檚 1.4 million residents were born outside the U.S. Since 2022, some 1,748 refugees and asylum-seekers have settled here, Catholic Charities鈥� Office of Maine Refugee Services.
Although Maine has drawn national attention for its population of immigrants from countries in Africa, nearly half of the state鈥檚 immigrants are from Asia or Europe. One-fifth are from Canada. Immigrants from African nations, largely in East Africa, make up roughly 20% of the foreign-born population.
About 8 in 10 of Maine鈥檚 immigrants reside here legally. Half have obtained citizenship, according to a report from MPI, and another 32% hold either a green card or temporary visa. Though some estimates say about 10% of Maine鈥檚 immigrants entered the country unlawfully, MPI puts the figure at 18%.
The U.S. government has broad authority to deport people who enter the country unlawfully. But those people can apply for protections like asylum as a defense against removal. Donny Ardell, a Republican state representative, says it鈥檚 the law, not the public, that decides whom immigration agents can target under U.S. law.
鈥淎 permanent resident who has committed a series of violent felonies is just as removable, you know, deportable, as someone who鈥檚 merely an illegal alien,鈥� he says.
As the surge in Portland got underway, federal officials reportedly said they were targeting 1,400 of 鈥渢he worst of the worst criminal illegal aliens鈥� across the state. That came seven weeks after the start of what became a 3,000-agent operation in Minneapolis 鈥� a campaign marked by immigration law enforcement fatally shooting Renee Good and Alex Pretti, two U.S. citizens who were opposing federal actions there.
On Jan. 29, Maine Sen. Susan Collins announced that the Department of Homeland Security would end 鈥渆nhanced operations鈥� in the state. The agency, which oversees ICE, has not confirmed that statement, and uncertainty still lingers in Portland鈥檚 brick and cobblestone streets. In a statement to the Monitor, DHS said it would 鈥渃ontinue to enforce the law across the country.鈥�
The Trump administration has maintained for over a year that its enforcement efforts mainly target people with criminal records. Yet Portland residents say the arrests here often appeared indiscriminate, sowing distrust. Even some native-born residents stayed home, believing that they might encounter immigration agents who would detain them first and ask questions later. School absences spiked. Businesses threatened to close for lack of workers.
It鈥檚 not that immigration enforcement itself is a problem, says Ruben Torres, advocacy and policy manager at the Maine Immigrants鈥� Rights Coalition. Immigration agents have sought to enforce laws in Portland and Maine many times, under both Republican and Democratic administrations.
鈥淭here is enforcement that should happen. There is enforcement that will happen,鈥� he says. 鈥淏ut at the same time, there should be respect for the process, and the people in that process.鈥�
Born in California, Mr. Torres says even he worries about being detained by ICE, echoing fears expressed by Nina and others.
Portlanders have particularly criticized the arrest of a corrections officer recruit, 鈥渁n illegal alien from Angola,鈥� in early January. Local officials said that the recruit had cleared a criminal background check and was authorized to work in the U.S. until 2029.
That incident has rankled even those who are sympathetic to immigration enforcement. Kevin Joyce, sheriff for Cumberland County, where Portland is located, questions whether immigration enforcement in Maine targeted those who have broken the law. Cumberland County jails, which the sheriff鈥檚 department operates, have historically cooperated with immigration officials.
鈥淚鈥檝e been pretty vocal about the fact that ICE does have a job to do, and that is to get the criminals off the street,鈥� he said at a news conference. 鈥淚 was all set with that. But ... this is an individual who had permission to be working in the state of Maine. We vetted him.鈥�
Such arrests have undermined trust not only in the federal immigration system, but also in local police, residents and local officials say.
鈥淚鈥檓 watching my kids 鈥� [a] fifth grader and an eighth grader 鈥� and they鈥檙e afraid,鈥� says the Rev. Peter Swarr, priest at Trinity Episcopal Church in Portland. 鈥淭hey see a police car, and they don鈥檛 trust that police car anymore.鈥�
Mayor: time to look forward
Mayor Mark Dion hopes those feelings are temporary. As Portland emerges from the surge, he says the task is to build something new 鈥� something stronger.
鈥淲e鈥檒l get through it, and we鈥檒l talk about it,鈥� he says, sitting behind a regal wooden desk at City Hall. 鈥淚t was a hard two weeks. And now, the real work begins.鈥�
Throughout the city, much of that work is already underway, as native-born residents seek to strengthen bonds with their immigrant neighbors and rebuild trust. Sheltered from the February cold at The Cathedral Church of St. Luke are the Rev. Swarr and Sarah Borgeson, who co-lead the newly launched Neighborhood Support Network. The goal is to deliver food to some 70 families who remain too afraid to leave their homes.
Packages will include household essentials like toilet paper and also foodstuffs like palm oil, tilapia, and cassava leaves 鈥� staples in many East African countries, where many of Portland鈥檚 immigrants are from.
The emergence of such efforts underscores the spirit of neighborliness that has driven Portlanders to paper telephone poles, buildings, and windows on their snow-lined streets with missives proclaiming love for immigrants in Spanish, English, French, and Portuguese. As people rushed to help one another, new bonds of kinship between immigrants and U.S.-born residents blossomed.
鈥淲e are engaging all kinds of networks of support, some of it underground, some of it very explicit in public, so that our neighbors know that we love them and consider them to be part of the community,鈥� says the Rt. Rev. Thomas Brown, Episcopal bishop of Maine. 鈥淲hen one of us is harmed, at some level, all of us are.鈥�
Such initiatives have been built on an extensive web of support services that already existed for immigrants. Deeper in a building attached to the cathedral sits a small room infused with the smell of potatoes. Here, every Thursday, Mary Brighthaupt and a small group of volunteers shepherd largely immigrant visitors through a small but mighty food pantry.
Some 75% of the neighbors, as Ms. Brighthaupt calls those who get food from the pantry, are New Mainers. Most do not speak English. Volunteers communicate largely through gestures, holding up fingers to convey how many items each neighbor can take. The visitors smile, gratefully, and fill plastic shopping bags with as much as they can. Interest in community aid projects such as this one has ballooned since the surge, Ms. Brighthaupt says.
One such project is Maine Needs, a nonprofit that provides basic goods to Mainers who can鈥檛 afford them. When they heard about the immigration enforcement push, staff members posted on social media asking for donations of diapers for parents staying at home with their children. The community obliged: In a conference room, stacks of diaper boxes rise from floor to ceiling.
鈥淲e watched a community show up. I have chills just thinking about it,鈥� says Angela Stone, founder and executive director of Maine Needs. 鈥淭hey might look like boxes of diapers, but that鈥檚 a community that鈥檚 like, 鈥楢bsolutely not 鈥� we鈥檙e gonna look after our neighbors.鈥欌��
State legislator: a right to enforce the law
Pious Ali wasn鈥檛 surprised by Portland鈥檚 response. An immigrant from Ghana, Mr. Ali has lived in the U.S. since 2000 and in Maine since 2002. He鈥檚 spent years as an elected official, rising from the school board to be a city councilor at large. He was the elected to public office in the state.
Mr. Ali sees his political career as proof that immigrants can become part of the community. 鈥淵ou need to feel comfortable, you need to feel welcome, you need to feel being part of the society you live in to even think of running for office, right?鈥�
鈥淭he support that came out is Portland being Portland, and Maine being what mostly Maine is,鈥� he adds.
Mostly.
Many in Maine support President Trump鈥檚 immigration crackdown. Although Kamala Harris won the state in the 2024 presidential election, most of her votes came from Greater Portland. More rural parts of the state, to the west and north, voted for Mr. Trump.
A poll from the in April 2025 found that 45% of Maine residents approved of Mr. Trump鈥檚 handling of immigration. That鈥檚 higher than the national 38% approval he received in a February 2026 Reuters poll, from 55% the year before. Although a majority in the UNH poll disapproved of the president鈥檚 immigration policies, that was starkly divided along partisan lines, with 98% of Democrats disapproving and 96% of Republicans approving.
Mr. Ardell, the state representative, says that the government has a right to enforce immigration law, and he sees Mr. Trump鈥檚 efforts as routine enforcement, not federal overreach.
鈥淚 think the opposition is that President Trump is the chief executive who鈥檚 directing it,鈥� he says.
For decades, both Democratic and Republican presidents have funneled tens of billions of dollars into immigration enforcement. Last year, Mr. Trump鈥檚 tax and spending bill gave ICE a windfall that made it the most well-funded law enforcement agency in the country: about $75 billion spread over four years, on top of an $8 billion annual budget.
This year, Maine enacted a bill to limit cooperation with federal immigration officials. Supporters of such bills argue that they boost trust between local officials and immigrants, who might otherwise fear that accessing social services or reporting crimes will result in deportation.
Mr. Ardell, who worked in immigration enforcement for 20 years, says those policies make enforcement more dangerous 鈥� especially as civilians stage protests. Federal immigration agents lack local policing power, he says.
鈥淭he only tool they have is lawful commands, and if those aren鈥檛 complied with, you have potentially increasing levels of force to ensure compliance,鈥� he says.
Leaning on her community
As she begins to relax after the surge, Nina wishes Washington would reconsider its position on immigration. She doesn鈥檛 want criminals on the street, either, and she says that the government has the right to punish those who break the law. But she sees immigrants as a boon for communities around the country, not just in Portland.
鈥淏eing [an] immigrant 鈥� I don鈥檛 think it鈥檚 a crime,鈥� she says. 鈥淚f we鈥檙e here, it鈥檚 also maybe because [Americans] need us.鈥�
When she read social media comments cheering ICE鈥檚 arrival in the state, Nina began to think that most of her fellow Mainers thought differently. 鈥淪o that means they don鈥檛 like us?鈥� she wondered, as she scrolled through her feeds on Facebook and TikTok. 鈥淭hey just pretend to like us, but they don鈥檛 really like us?鈥�
But in recent weeks, the community鈥檚 effort to come together and support her 鈥� from her boss who gave her rides to work to the churchgoers who delivered food 鈥� cemented her feeling that she belongs here. Her neighbors, she realized, want her to stay. She鈥檚 sure, now, that she picked the right place for her family.
鈥淚f something happens to me,鈥� she says, 鈥渕aybe my daughter will be protected.鈥�
