Investigative Journalism

The people patrolling the streets of the Twin Cities for Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents call themselves “commuters.” That just about captures the minute-to-minute experience of being with them. I rode along with these commuters for a day, and the story that no one sees is that it was really no more exciting than any drive to and fro in a medium-size city on an endless kaleidoscoping loop of surface streets. The differences between their old daily routines and their new ones only make these drives more stultifying, not less.

There’s an audio Signal chat happening in the background: alternating silence with strong Minnesota accents calling in the license plate numbers of SUVs. You can’t talk. You can’t listen to music. One veteran commuter tells me the experience is hell on his ADHD. “I can’t even listen to podcasts.”