Immigration attorney, St. Paul
Growing up in East Los Angeles, in a home she describes as poor and chaotic, Gloria Contreras Edin never expected to become a lawyer. She dropped out of school at 16, became pregnant at 17, and later moved to Staples, Minnesota (population 3,000).
Gloria, who is Mexican-American, spoke both English and Spanish—a valued skill in rural Central Minnesota. She was asked to interpret for immigrants working in the area’s packing plants and on farms. Those residents came to trust her in times of distress. When federal immigration agents detained a developmentally disabled 19-year-old man who was out riding his bicycle, “his mother came rushing to my office and begged me to help,” she says. “I felt helpless I couldn’t do anything. I wasn’t an attorney.” She tried to intervene the best she could. But, she says, “it wasn’t enough.”
One day, Gloria was driving home from work and pulled over to cry. “If there’s a God out there and there’s a purpose for me, I completely give myself up,” she remembers saying aloud. “I’m going to use my eyes, my hands, my mouth, and my body to do whatever it takes to help these folks.”
Not long afterward, in 2002, she received a Bush Foundation fellowship that she used to attend law school.
Immigration attorney, St. Paul
Gloria’s entire legal career has focused on helping immigrants. For example, she sued the federal government in 2007 over a processing-plant raid in Worthington, Minnesota. The lawsuit argued that ICE agents had illegally detained workers, called them racial epithets, and forced them to disrobe and use the toilet in plain view. A federal judge eventually dismissed the case—but, Gloria says, “it brought public attention to a very serious issue.”
Operation Metro Surge cranked everything into high gear. On the first day of the surge, federal agents surrounded Gloria’s law office with their vehicles and questioned people as they entered the building. “I could see armed agents wearing what looked like something they would wear to go to war,” she says.
For three months, Gloria couldn’t travel or even walk away from her phone. “I would get a phone call at 8 o’clock, 9 o’clock at night, many times begging for help, because many individuals were being detained late into the night and then transferred to another state by morning,” she says. “Lawyers, including myself, were drafting habeas corpus petitions on our laptops, in our pajamas, in our beds, filing at 2 a.m. so that our clients wouldn’t be transferred.”
There was no time for rest. “If I could imagine what it might be like to work in a triage hospital with people coming in every morning, bloodied and hurt, that is what happened here at my firm. Every day, we’d open the doors and groups of families would come in screaming and crying, wailing, begging for help.”
It was exhausting. But she says it only toughened her resolve to continue in the work. “There were times when I would fall asleep at night thinking I wouldn’t wake up in the morning because I was so stressed,” she says. “But there’s never been a time when I’ve ever doubted the reason why I’m doing this work or why I’m here.”
“I’m going to use my eyes, my hands, my mouth, and my body to do whatever it takes to help these folks.”
On the humanity she saw last winter:
“There were so many examples of things that were bright and beautiful and human during Metro Surge. One of my favorites was the Smitten Kitten and what they did for our community. Smitten Kitten turned their adult shop into a resource center for immigrants and refugees without any concern for their own business.
“Just as profound, people started giving money, a lot of money, toward supporting immigrants and refugees.
“One of my favorite phone calls was from someone in rural Minnesota. He said, ‘I have relatives who are in the state legislature and I’ve lived here my whole life. And what I’m seeing is something that concerns me and troubles me. You don’t know me. But I want to make sure you know that there are people here who want to help you.’
“Someone came in, a worker at the University of Minnesota. She just came in and brought us pie. I almost cried when she brought us apple pie. It was the sweetest apple pie and the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. She just said, ‘You’re doing great work and here’s some apple pie for you and your staff.’ Gosh, that meant so much to us.”
On why she doesn’t experience burnout:
“The practice of law is an expression of love for the people that I serve. It is what has always fueled me. Seeing an injustice—and knowing that what is occurring is outside of the constitutional principles of our country—pushes me forward to want to try to do something, even if it feels impossible. It’s not to say that I don’t feel fear, or that I don’t need a massage once in a while, because I certainly do.
“But I often feel impelled to do it. I don’t feel like it’s my own volition, but something else is moving me. And I don’t know what that is. Maybe it’s a god or a universe or something. But I certainly feel that spirit every single day.”
To read the introduction to this series, follow this link.
North Star Way: Minnesota navigates a harsh winter
To listen to our podcast series, follow this link or find us on the platform of your choice.
A Peace of My Mind on Buzzsprout
Credits:
Interviews and text: Barry Yeoman
Photos: John Noltner
Editing and production: Razik Saifullah
Music: Dan Rodriguez
Keep up the good fight Gloria. You too John. I admire your resolve.