Sunday, Aug. 10, 2025 | 2 a.m.
Editor’s note: Este artículo está traducido al español.
In the heart of Las Vegas, where the lights never dim and the entertainment thrives, an underlying tension persists among its Latino community. Sabina Aviles, an assistant store manager at Curacao, a retail chain catering to Latino families, recently observed a downturn in foot traffic at her store. This change isn’t just about shopping habits; it encapsulates a much broader issue regarding safety, community, and the emotional toll of living in fear of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) activities.
Aviles articulates this concern with clarity. “We have a lot of customers that … feel unsafe to go out,” she shared. The societal pressures have manifested in a stark reality: reduced work hours and, for some, a complete withdrawal from the workforce. Children have become the primary support system in many homes, leading to a profound impact on families’ well-being and livelihoods.
In response to this climate of anxiety, Curacao has rolled out an “Essential Assistance Program,” providing free appliances and limited grocery support to families hesitant to venture out. Aviles noted that about 40 local households have already utilized this confidential service, with hundreds more subscribed in other locations across the nation. Offerings typically include essentials like microwaves, compact fridges, and small appliances, addressing immediate needs while also fostering a sense of community resilience during turbulent times. A recent photo shared by the Sun depicted a grocery basket containing staples: flour, sugar, instant coffee, rice, and beans.
Yet, the feelings of unease extend beyond mere shopping apprehensions. The overarching sentiment among Latino customers—and even U.S. citizens like Kimberly Ocampo—reflects a broader societal anxiety. “I’m scared. I’m fearful,” Ocampo expressed, highlighting how ICE’s perceived authority amplifies stress in daily life. This fear is not confined solely to undocumented immigrants; it permeates into the daily experiences of many within the community, affecting travel, work, and social interactions.
Prominent companies serving this demographic have also taken notice. Coca-Cola, Colgate-Palmolive, and Constellation Brands—responsible for distributing popular brands like Modelo and Corona—reported a notable pullback in spending among Latino consumers. George Weston, CEO of Associated British Foods, conveyed the economic ramifications: “It feels really recessionary in parts of the U.S. market.” The emotional toll on these communities translates into significant economic repercussions for businesses that rely on their patronage.
Amid this backdrop, local markets struggle to regain momentum. Broadacres Marketplace, which caters largely to Latino shoppers, recently reopened after a temporary closure fueled by fears of ICE raids. Vendors reported dwindling customer traffic even before the halt, signifying a growing disconnect between the marketplace’s offerings and the community’s willingness to engage.
Community advocate Kimberly Ocampo praises Curacao’s assistance initiatives, citing it as a pioneering effort in providing tangible support amid widespread unease. “We’re living in this constant looking over your shoulder,” she remarked. The fear festers not only within the Latin community but is a shared experience, altering the dynamics of education, family structures, and community cohesion.
For those who do muster the courage to visit Curacao, the store has installed signage at its entrance clarifying that it is private property and thereby legally limiting ICE’s ability to enter without consent. This precaution reflects the shifting landscape of commerce and community relationships, where the very act of shopping becomes entangled in the complexities of immigration policy and public safety concerns.
Interestingly, there has been a slight uptick in customers returning to the store in the afternoon and evening, with Aviles noting a peculiar pattern in foot traffic around 6 or 7 p.m.—a departure from the usual daytime crowd tied to Meadows Mall. “Maybe they feel a little safe around that time,” she mused, suggesting that the community is attempting to reclaim agency over their lives, even within the constraints of fear.
As the repercussions of immigration policies continue to reverberate through the community, the dynamic between businesses and their customers remains in flux. Residents strive to assure themselves of safety and stability, and through programs like Curacao’s, the hope is to foster a sense of normalcy amidst uncertainty. With proactive measures and the resilience of Latino families, there remains a collective push not only for survival but for thriving despite ongoing challenges.