In Whitewater, an influx of immigrants has leaders determined to welcome newcomers, solve problems
WHITEWATER — Three concerning police calls within a week were the first clues something was different in Whitewater.
In January 2022, Whitewater police responding to an apartment fire found two children sleeping on the floor with no adults present. The next day, they found a family with a toddler living in a 10-foot-by-10-foot shed in frigid weather. Then, they encountered a 14-year-old girl being forced to work 30 hours a week instead of attending school.
"Every shift, we were having contact with somebody that was recently here from Central America," said police chief Dan Meyer. "That was not typical."
It was the start of an unexpected influx of new residents. City officials estimate that 800 to 1,000 migrants have been drawn to Whitewater by jobs on farms and in factories and by available housing. Mainly from Nicaragua — where authoritarian rule has instilled fear and ushered in economic instability — they've arrived steadily over the last two years, following relatives and neighbors from their hometowns who are settling in Whitewater. Unlike in New York and Chicago, they haven't been bused and dropped off en masse.
City officials and community leaders acknowledge there have been growing pains. There are many more English-language-learners in schools, and drivers being pulled over without licenses, and people being found in overcrowded or unsafe living situations.
But they also insist they are up to the task of solving those problems — if they have more funding to do it. Whitewater is a welcoming and generous community, several leaders and residents said, and they are motivated to help the newcomers build successful lives in Wisconsin.
Since those first police calls in 2022, leaders from the police department to the school district to the library have worked diligently to adapt to the new reality in which Whitewater finds itself. The police have invested in interpreting software; the school district has hired more Spanish-speaking staff; the library got a grant to translate key brochures into Spanish.
So it was a surprise to many of those leaders when, suddenly this month, Whitewater, a city of about 15,700 people, found itself at the center of the red-hot national debate over immigration policy and the southern border.
More: Whitewater police chief sends letter to Biden asking for help with immigration
"Biden Floods Small Wisconsin Town With 1,000 Migrants," read a headline from right-wing site Breitbart, offering commentary on a local news site's reporting that a draft letter from Meyer and city manager John Weidl asked federal leaders for funding to add staff to handle the rise in population.
Outrage followed from the right and the left. To some, Whitewater's challenges were evidence of ineffective border policies. Others resented Whitewater being used as a football in the broader political discourse.
U.S. Rep. Bryan Steil is among those who cite Whitewater in criticism of President Joe Biden's handling of the border.
"A community like Whitewater is being dramatically impacted by the failed policies of the administration," he said.
Meyer and Weidl had drafted the letter with the aim of showing residents the city had done everything it could to secure more funds before asking taxpayers for money in a referendum. They believe an infusion of dollars to up police department staffing and add an immigrant liaison position, among other ideas, could go a long way.
"I had no idea that anything like this would happen," Meyer said of the public's reaction to the letter. "Our goal is to be apolitical. Our goal is to get the resources that are sorely needed here."
Food, clothing bank fills a void in the community
The influx of 1,000 new people is substantial for a rural town of only 15,000. About 10,000 of its residents are students at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater. An anchor to surrounding farming communities, Whitewater is 50 miles southwest of Milwaukee and 45 miles southeast of Madison. A motorist could drive from one end of the city to the other in under 10 minutes.
While jobs are easy to come by — unemployment in the city is 2.3%, according to the U.S. Census' American Communities Survey — living in Whitewater can be challenging for a migrant with few resources. There is no public transportation system in the town, so many undocumented individuals drive without licenses. It's only recently that free clinics opened to serve those without health insurance.
And those who apply for asylum must wait months before being issued work permits. As is common on farms and in factories across Wisconsin, many of those who get jobs do so under the table, several leaders said. That means there is a lack of oversight of migrants' living and working conditions.
Many migrants arrive in Whitewater after their journey with nearly no belongings: no bedding, no winter coats, only the clothes they are wearing.
Nonprofits like the Community Space have stepped into a void to serve people in need.
Founded five years ago, the Community Space allows anyone to shop for free food, clothing and furniture. Unlike the other food pantry in Whitewater, it does not require IDs or proof of residency. About half of their clients are Spanish speakers, although not all are new migrants. Whitewater has an established population of mostly Mexican immigrants who settled there in the 1990s.
The Community Space counted more than 24,000 visitors last year and gave out more than 210,000 pounds of food, executive director Kristine Zaballos said. That's nearly 500 visitors a week.
Among them were Edwin-Josue Pres-Ruiz, 27, who said in Spanish that he came to Whitewater to earn money to send home to his family in Nicaragua. He has two daughters, ages 2 and 5, and studied mining in school.
At the Community Space for the first time, he placed ground beef, rolls, avocados and potatoes in his shopping basket. He was curious to check out a free English-language class held twice a week at the Community Space and three times a week at Whitewater High School.
Also shopping for food was Marcos Ramirez, 28, who has lived in Whitewater for a year with his wife and 5-year-old son. He is from one of Nicaragua's largest cities but said in Spanish that he likes the beauty and quiet of the much smaller Whitewater, which he learned about from an uncle who migrated there first.
On the other side of the shop are shelves of children's books and games, racks of clothes for all ages, winter gear and other essentials. Volunteers can usually tell which customers are new to town. They tend to pick up sets of sheets and blankets and ask about mattresses.
When volunteers ask them if they'd like a winter coat, many turn it down at first, not knowing just how cold Wisconsin gets in the winter, said site manager Kay Robers. She gets choked up thinking about a family who asked for a bedsheet to hang up for some privacy in an overcrowded apartment.
Only two of the roughly 35 volunteers speak Spanish. Robers, stationed at the check-out counter, has learned to ask in Spanish, "How many people are in your household?" and "What is your ZIP code?" Volunteers have seen an increase in people in need since the migrants began arriving, but it hasn't been especially dramatic or overwhelming, said Zaballos, who is also a co-founder of the organization.
The organization receives plentiful donations from private citizens as well as grocers like Walmart, Whole Foods and Kwik Trip. One volunteer purchased several industrial refrigerators for the facility. Another fixes up the donated bicycles.
"I've really been able to see how generous this community is, both with donations and kind words," Robers said. "Everybody cares about everybody."
With so much attention on Whitewater and the newly arrived migrants, Zaballos hopes that the city and its partners formulate a more coordinated response. But she worries that the politics and tension around the conversation could prove detrimental.
"I'm hoping that through this all, we can just keep our focus on our community, what we do and what we can affect," Zaballos said.
She realizes she can't force Congress to pass immigration reform or make the state legislature allow undocumented people to get drivers licenses.
"There are all sorts of things that would benefit us that I can't do," Zaballos said. "What we can do is focus on serving the needs of all of our community members as best as we can."
Schools, library provide more Spanish-language instruction, resources
English-language elementary teacher Sandra Ramirez is one who has first-hand experience with newly arrived migrants in Whitewater. When people started arriving in earnest a few years ago, she was a liaison for Hispanic families and helped enroll newcomer children in school.
Many of the Nicaraguan families she met came from the same handful of villages and towns, Ramirez said, following each other to Whitewater.
She and her fellow English-language teachers found themselves having to adapt how they were teaching. As is common in rural areas of developing countries, children might not have gotten a high-quality education before coming to the U.S., or their schooling was interrupted.
And while she knows several migrant students who have excelled in Whitewater, "we would have, say, third graders who didn't know their ABCs or we would have high school students who didn't know how to read," Ramirez said.
Before, the teachers mostly helped students of Mexican heritage who grew up bilingual in the U.S. Suddenly the district had to hire instructors who could teach migrant kids in Spanish to read and write. And it's tougher to catch up high schoolers who are taking classes like chemistry and history compared to younger children, Ramirez said.
It caused a strain on school resources at first. But now there's more staff and more strategizing about ways to close those gaps, Ramirez said.
"After two years, we're making do," she said. "We're finding resources to help them."
Staff at Whitewater's public library have adjusted too. The library long had a selection of Spanish-language books, and librarians added bilingual signs to each section about four years ago. But now there's a dedicated section for Spanish books and a spread of dozens of brochures and flyers in Spanish for everything from citizenship classes to a local free clinic to instructions on getting a library card.
Librarians are prepared to use the Google Translate app on an iPad if someone who doesn't speak English comes in asking for help.
"We need to be accessible to everyone," said Diane Jaroch, interim library director.
A rack of free coats and a free food cupboard at the library also offers a fill emergency needs outside the Community Space's three-day-a-week schedule.
"We'd been doing it on a small scale," Jaroch said of the recent efforts. "We've just ramped things up."
City leaders talk challenges, solutions of policing, serving migrant population
City officials also say they're committed to improving life for migrants in Whitewater. They also are resistant to being pigeon-holed by the public as either anti-immigrant or too soft on crime.
They want to be specific and accurate about the trends they're seeing, and what they believe will help.
Meyer, the police chief, drew the estimate of 800 to 1,000 new migrants from the number of new children in schools and the number and type of calls police have received. It's "probably a conservative estimate," he said, as a chunk of those who have arrived are young, single men who aren't in school.
Meyer said his officers' investigations in cases involving migrants take longer, leaving less time for proactive policing. As a way to quantify that decline in officers' available time to police in the community, he provided data that showed officers initiated half the number of traffic stops in 2023 compared to an 11-year average.
At traffic stops, unlicensed drivers might give a fake name or fake ID documents. And because they come with so few possessions, people under investigation for crimes easily slip away and can't be found for follow-up interviews.
Officers might not realize until later that it was the third or fourth time police had stopped someone until a time-consuming effort to truly identify the person. Then there's the task of correcting all the prior records in the system.
"It's hours and hours of manpower," he said.
Meyer is also concerned about some migrants' ingrained distrust of law enforcement because of conditions in their home countries. In Nicaragua, led by president Daniel Ortega, there have been harsh crackdowns on anti-regime protests, followed by widespread arrests and even killings of political dissidents.
People may be remaining longer in unsafe situations, reluctant to call police, Meyer said.
And while the Walworth County sheriff, Dave Gerber, previously drew connections between the drug trade and the influx of migrant workers, Meyer said it's too early to know whether there is a link.
For city manager John Weidl — Whitewater's governance structure does not provide for a mayor — it's important that police officers aren't the ones encountering migrants for both law enforcement issues and social service issues. That is, say, investigating crimes while also providing winter coats.
He looks forward to the results of an upcoming police staffing study, which could illuminate a need for more officers. He is also advocating for funding for a new immigrant liaison who would be the first point of contact for newcomers, helping connect them to available city and county resources and answering questions.
Weidl also wants to develop a good way to get money to nonprofits doing work "on the ground" with migrants.
It's a multi-faceted issue that he hopes the city can target from several angles. While so much of the public conversation about Whitewater in recent weeks has been politically fueled, Weidl is fired up about creating solutions.
Weidl has a vision for the young migrants who have recently settled in Whitewater. In an ideal example, he said, the newcomer has graduated from high school and college and is working as a police officer, fire fighter or public works employee in the city or the region.
"That's success. And I think that's what most people coming into the community want," he said.
This article originally appeared on Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: Whitewater leaders welcome new immigrants, but recognize growing pains
