The Surge and the Strain
A recent Reuters investigation pulled back the curtain on ICE during Trump’s renewed deportation surge. Arrests have skyrocketed — nationally, more than 250% higher than a year ago; in Georgia, the increase is over 365%. AI-generated leads inundate agents, many of which are flawed, leading to mistaken identities, outdated addresses, and false targets. Officers are burning out under long hours, dangerous raids, and constant leadership turnover. Meanwhile, a massive recruitment drive aims to add 10,000 new agents, intensifying both the human toll and systemic chaos.
Hospitality as Witness
At the heart of Casa Alterna’s work is radical hospitality as a form of resistance. Since moving into the Atlanta Friends Meeting as Friend-in-Residence, what was intended to be a two-year residency has become a six-year commitment, transforming the meetinghouse into a home for more than 600 vulnerable guests. Each space has been filled with love, care, and light, reflecting a sustained commitment alongside our immigrant companions.
Connection is everything.” — Cindy, volunteer
This hospitality grounds all we do: accompaniment, advocacy, and public witness. It demonstrates that justice is not abstract, but love made visible.
Accompaniment in Action
Four days a week, we offer a visible witness at the Atlanta ICE field office, encountering moments of anxiety and resilience:
Meeting beautiful people from all over. Seeing babies swaddled in scarves, children who love receiving our handmade teddy bears, and teens, some of whom are alone—their courage, strength, and resilience deeply inspire me. — Amy, volunteer
Court accompaniment brings these realities sharply into focus:
Yovani was extremely nervous, and his leg shook constantly, both while waiting in the hall and inside the courtroom. Luckily, he was given a future court date. He was famished but very appreciative of having had accompaniment.” — Becky, volunteer
Marta shared her first-time experience with Isaac:
After each case, Isaac waited while his hearing notice was printed. Quiet and reserved, he smiled when we left, and his relative later sent an appreciative text.“
In addition to accompaniment, we provide know-your-rights cards, screen for those at high risk of detention, and document injustices to notify the media and elected officials. Each story strengthens public awareness and accountability. In these actions, we live out what Cornel West calls justice as love in public.
Bearing the Brunt
Immigrant companions navigate fear, uncertainty, and the constant threat of detention. Their strength and resilience humble us. Yet ICE officers are human too, caught in a system that dehumanizes all it touches. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Gandhi, and Jesus all taught that true resistance relies not on hatred but on love that transforms. Nonviolent action seeks liberation for the oppressed while awakening conscience in those enforcing unjust systems.
Advocacy and the Beloved Community
Looking ahead, we are seeking ways to expose injustice and build a more vibrant, inclusive Atlanta. On September 5, we will meet with representatives from Senator John Ossoff’s office to speak unapologetically in solidarity with immigrants and denounce the ICE field office’s use of its basement as a makeshift detention facility. We believe in a vision of the Beloved Community — an America where ICE is a remnant of an unjust system, and where dignity and justice are upheld through care, connection, and support rather than fear and detention.
Every act of accompaniment, every story shared, every vigil and presence outside the field office ripples outward. By humanizing those impacted by the system, Casa Alterna not only reveals the injustices they endure but also highlights the moral choices available to all of us.
I am powerless to make everyone’s lives easier, but I can be with what is.” — Amy, volunteer
Love in Public
Every volunteer, every immigrant companion, every small gesture contributes to this ongoing struggle for justice. In Atlanta, as we stand together outside the ICE field office and in the Quaker meetinghouse filled with light and love, we are reminded: love in public is not just an idea — it is a daily practice, a moral witness, and a transformative force.
At the Threshold
How do you practice love in public — not as a gesture, but as a daily commitment — that both comforts the oppressed and awakens conscience in those who enforce unjust laws? In what ways can your hospitality, presence, and advocacy reveal paths toward justice, mercy, and the Beloved Community?
Casa Alterna 