ICE comes to local restaurants. It was inevitable.
Stories like that of Suya Joint’s Paul Dama expose an American injustice.
Suya Joint chef-owner Cecelia Lizotte with daughter Ericka and brother Paul Dama, who was detained by ICE on Father's Day.Cecelia Lizotte
At Suya Joint,
the acclaimed West African restaurant in Roxbury and Providence, the
jollof rice is always delicious — each red grain infused with the flavor
of pepper sauce and deep cultural pride. But today the dish serves a
second purpose: “20% of all Jollof Rice sales will go directly toward
Paul’s legal expenses,” reads a note from the restaurant.
Paul
is Paul Dama, a manager at Suya Joint and the brother of chef-owner
Cecelia Lizotte, as well as a caregiver at a home for men with
disabilities. On Father’s Day, after leaving his Brockton apartment to
go to church, Dama was pulled over and detained by ICE.
“Four
or five different vans came and barricaded him. They asked him to come
out with his license and registration, put him in handcuffs, and told
him to turn around. They just picked him up,” Lizotte says.
According
to the National Restaurant Association, 22 percent of restaurant and
food service employees were born outside of the United States. It was
inevitable that Trump’s ICE crackdown would affect the restaurant
industry. Some of this activity has been visible: In May, for instance,
ICE agents raided San Diego restaurant Buona Forchetta, setting off
flash-bang grenades and taking multiple workers into custody. Bystanders
posted video of a chaotic and terrifying scene.
But
much of it happens quietly and unrecorded, in a climate of fear that
breeds yet more fear, for workers and business owners alike.
In late May, ICE conducted raids on Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket
and arrested 40 people. What would the repercussions be for the
islands, where dining is such an important part of the seasonal economy?
Every restaurant I contacted declined to comment. Understandably so.
Speaking out could put their employees and their businesses in harm’s
way.
“I
never ever ever say this, but I think I’m a little worried to comment
publicly,” replied one industry veteran. “I am too opinionated to hold
my tongue, and too close to a number of people who might be affected by
my fire and brimstone. Clearly this administration is in the comments
and the socials and looking for a reason to target anyone or any place.
An ICE raid on Nantucket in May.
“It
is grim here right now. I can’t get over the level of fear and anxiety.
Previously, there was a sentiment that ICE was looking for the bad
guys, and as long as you kept your nose clean and paid your taxes you’d
be OK. Now they are just looking for the Spanish-speakers who are
willing to humble themselves and work hard at any task to make a better
life for their families.”
At
the same time, ICE was also at work in and around Boston. “In one week,
I’ve lost three chefs,” reported one restaurateur, who operates
multiple area venues. A fourth employee was also detained. He asked to
remain anonymous, concerned about potential retaliation. “The fear among
the chefs is just unreal. Some aren’t showing up for work now. They
won’t get on the T. Two of the guys got picked up on the T. It’s all
fear. I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said.
One
of the chefs was a 16-year employee with a 13-year-old child who was
born here; she was serving as his translator. He was released on Friday
after a month’s detention and is now figuring out next steps for his
case. Another was deported immediately, after volunteering to return to
Colombia. A third was about to move to a different country, where his
wife has citizenship — but at the last minute, he discovered his
passport had expired and had to postpone his departure. He was picked up
while taking his child to school.
Two
of the employees have now been transferred to Louisiana, where they are
awaiting hearings “in not a very nice facility, and they get out one
hour a day,” says the restaurateur. “There’s some sort of flu going
around there, so they haven’t been out of their cells in five days. It
sounds even worse than what I’m telling you.”
“Every single day we hope and pray,” says Suya Joint owner Cecelia Lizotte, whose brother is in ICE detention.Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff
As
for Dama, according to an ICE database, he is currently detained at the
Strafford County Department of Corrections facility in Dover, N.H. He
came to this country from Nigeria in 2019, fleeing after he was
kidnapped by the terrorist group Boko Haram. His family paid a ransom to
secure his release. “Going back to Nigeria is not safe. This feels like
the kidnapping all over again. He was picked up right in front of his
house,” Lizotte says. The family has launched a fund-raiser,
raising more than $33,000 to help with the legal fees as of Tuesday.
“This feels like another ransom, paying the bond and so much money for
attorney fees.”
But this is America, now. Hours before casting his tie-breaking vote,
Vice President JD Vance took to social media to champion a domestic
policy bill that increases spending for immigration enforcement while
cutting SNAP, Medicaid, and other health care programs. “Everything else
— the CBO score, the proper baseline, the minutiae of the Medicaid
policy — is immaterial compared to the ICE money and immigration
enforcement provisions,” he posted. (The Congressional Budget Office
estimates the bill would see nearly 12 million people lose health
insurance over the next decade. Minutiae. Has there ever been a more chilling word?)
Dama,
who applied for asylum when he arrived, has been told that because his
case is still pending, he is out of status, according to Lizotte. At a
hearing on June 26, the judge told him he would need to start his asylum
application all over again, she says. He has a bond hearing scheduled
for July 3, to determine whether he can be released.
Until
then, the family waits, hoping he isn’t transferred in the meantime.
“Every single day we hope and pray,” Lizotte says. “What he sees is at 2
a.m., 3 a.m., 4 a.m., in the middle of night, other people are being
transferred. They are not given the chance to make phone calls to family
members.”
The restaurant that made Lizotte a 2024 James Beard award semifinalist
remains open. Dama’s calm, helpful, welcoming presence is missed, a
sense of emptiness in its place. Employees are afraid, but also
determined to keep going, for now.
“There
are a lot of people where he is that don’t have the support, they don’t
have any voice outside,” Lizotte says. Telling these stories where and
how we can shines light on what is happening in American restaurants
right now.
Rejection has value. It teaches us when our work or our skillset is not good enough and must be made better. This is a powerful revelation, like the burning UFO wheel seen by the prophet Ezekiel, or like the McRib sandwich shaped like the Virgin Mary seen by the prophet Steve Jenkins. Rejection refines us. Those who fall prey to its enervating soul-sucking tentacles are doomed. Those who persist past it are survivors. Best ask yourself the question: what kind of writer are you? The kind who survives? Or the kind who gets asphyxiated by the tentacles of woe?
When Dave calls from California
to tell me his girlfriend is pregnant,
it was an accident
but she wants to keep it anyway,
although Dave’s not so sure, he has his doubts—
in fact, when he really thinks about it,
not in this lifetime
nor in any foreseeable lifetime
does he see himself actually becoming a dad—
I realize the two of them are about to embark
upon a long and dangerous pilgrimage
through a wilderness called Confusion,
leading to a scorching desert called Pain,
and down into a rocky valley
called Couples Counseling.
They’re x-raying their relationship
like a couple of art collectors
trying to figure out if the Rembrandt
they bought last month is a fake.
They’re giving their love the third-degree
under a hot and blinding light,
and by God they better get some answers.
Meanwhile, every day
that tongueless little sachet of cells
is finding more and more articulate ways
of saying, What about me?
But I’m just strolling in my garden
with a glass of cold white wine,
watching the daisies wave their yellow flags
from that beautiful country
called Not My Problem.
Posts
