Juana Luz Tobar Ortega had an anniversary this month, but it was no celebration. Last Thursday marked two years since the undocumented mom of four went into sanctuary at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in Greensboro, North Carolina. It’s believed she has now lived longer in sanctuary than anyone else who has publicly gone into sanctuary under the Trump administration, WXII 12 reports.
Facing an order from Immigration and Customs Enforcement to either leave on her own or face arrest, St. Barnabas opened its doors to her in May 2017. Two years later, Ortega’s story has now also been the focus of a documentary, “Santuario,” which details her daily life and how her imminent deportation has affected her loved ones. “The directors hope the film shines a light on noncriminal deportation cases like Ortega’s, which have multiplied in the wake of the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown.”
Media all too often focuses on the president’s disgusting and racist rhetoric about criminals and “bad hombres”—and all too often fails to properly debunk it—while overlooking the people and faces and voices of those living under daily threat of this mass deportation administration. People like Ortega and her family members.
“Her family visits her in her new home, delivering groceries and helping pass the time.” A grandchild is seen playing in the small living area the church set up for Ortega. “They also lobby for her stay with politicians, conscious that Juana's is not the only sanctuary case. But as weeks stretch into months, the wait begins to take a toll on Juana and her family.”
Her absence is felt daily. In one scene, an elder daughter cries in her car before visiting her mom at St. Barnabas. “I don’t want to show this type of emotion in front of her, when I already know she’s struggling,” she says. She wipes away her tears as her little sister sits in the back seat. “So ... just trying to hang on.” Other families are facing similar circumstances. Once again facing deportation following a two year reprieve from deportation expiring, immigrant rights leader Jeanette Vizguerra returned to sanctuary in Denver in March.
Episcopal News Services estimates that as many as 21 immigrants are quickly approaching their own two year mark in sanctuary. Ortega’s prayer for them is no different than the prayer for herself: the chance to live in peace with her family, here, without fear. “One day, this will end,” she says during the documentary. “One day, we’re going to be alright.”