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This First Person column is written by Justin Ho, a Canadian dental student living in Minneapolis. For more information about First Person stories, see the FAQ.
I was walking down the hallway of a dental clinic with my patient — a five-year-old boy accompanied by his mother — so that we could get X-rays that would help create a dental treatment plan for him. For the little boy, I could see this was a fun adventure, but his mother’s face told a different story. As stoic as the face she put on, her words while we waited showed how nervous she was.
“Whenever we go out, I worry that if we get stopped, I may never see him again.”
My heart sank.
Unfortunately, it’s something I’m hearing more often in Minnesota. Like the mother and her son, many of the patients at the community clinic where I work in Minneapolis are racialized. Although not a tracked statistic, it is likely that many are also undocumented.
The politics of health care
I was just two weeks into my new placement as a dental student from Canada studying in the U.S. when Renee Nicole Good was shot by a a U.S. Customs and Immigration Enforcement (ICE) agent just a few kilometres away. Then, last week, ICU nurse Alex Pretti was killed in another shooting by federal officers.
U.S. government officials say ICE agents fatally shot Alex Pretti at a protest in Minneapolis because he had a gun on his person and, according to U.S. President Donald Trump’s homeland security adviser Stephen Miller, was a ‘would-be assassin.’ Andrew Chang breaks down several video angles of the shooting, moment by moment, to understand how accurate the government’s initial account is.
Images provided by The Canadian Press, Reuters and Getty Images
As a prospective dentist, I’ve been taught to diagnose and treat oral diseases. Now I’m realizing it’s not that simple — patient care is more than just looking after their health.
Over the six years that I have lived here, Minneapolis has shifted from a quiet Midwestern city to a global focal point of political trauma. I moved here from Vancouver shortly after the murder of George Floyd. As a student at the University of Minnesota school of dentistry, I saw first-hand the heavy silence that followed his death, the shock of high-profile political assassinations and the local heartbreak after a shooter opened fire on children at a church. Now, a targeted federal immigration crackdown has brought a new wave of fear to my neighbours.
These news headlines unfortunately are more than backdrops of my daily life; they have altered the very community I call home.
These last few weeks have brought the politics right into my place of work. The surge of federal officers in the Twin Cities has become a significant community disruption that negatively impacts health care.
Our clinic is usually quite busy. It was the norm to see close to 120 scheduled patients daily, with an additional 10 to15 walk-in patients. My dental assistant would tell stories of days when student providers like myself would typically see eight patients on a light day. However, with the start of ICE activities in January, our patient volume has plummeted.
During my rotation, my fellow students and I would be lucky to see four patients a day. The director of our dental division told me no event other than the COVID-19 pandemic led to such a decrease in patient volume in recent years.
Now, instead of managing a full schedule, my colleagues and I wait for patients who are too terrified to leave their homes until the pain of an infected tooth or a swollen face becomes unbearable.
As a provider, it feels exhausting to champion public health when the act of seeking care now puts my patients at risk of federal detention.
It is not just patients who are impacted. Many of the health-care team, including myself, are racialized. With ICE agents now being seen outside our clinic and in our neighbourhood, anyone who can work from home is doing so. Those required to be at the clinic have resorted to walking together to the parking garage in order to prevent individual confrontations with ICE agents and ensure our own safety. My international classmates and I have begun carrying our passports with us just in case we encounter federal officers.
Earlier this month, our clinic was evacuated due to a bomb threat.
I wasn’t at work when it happened but I was incredibly worried about my co-workers and patients and felt like I couldn’t do much to help. It has become extremely difficult to focus on my education and provide the care my patients need when I have to worry about my well-being and safety.
What I’ve learned about community
As a Canadian living in what feels like the most politically volatile city in the U.S. right now, it puts into perspective what being an immigrant truly means. It makes me angry. Why do some people of the population that I swore an oath to serve and heal feel the need to almost criminalize my identity — whether that be my nationality, the colour of my skin or my ethnic background?
However, I also know that many Americans do not share the same sentiments of their leader. Many have profusely apologized to me about the comments that have been directed towards racialized community members like myself. Whenever I mention my nationality, they welcome me with open hearts and minds and encourage me to proudly display my ties to Canada. Communities of different ethnic backgrounds have made Minnesota home and its diversity is what makes Minneapolis thrive.
In many ways, the people of Minnesota have empowered me to be proud of my identity and my nationality. What makes this state special is witnessing the resilience that this community has. Minnesotans have been through so much within this last year, yet every day, they are willing to stand up to overwhelming pressure and prove that there is still a voice of reason. They are willing to fight for equality, fairness and acceptance for their neighbours.
In many ways, the people of Minnesota have demonstrated the same values that have been instilled in me as a Canadian. As a country also composed of immigrants, we can learn much from how Minnesotans have stood up for one another in an ever-changing world.
As a health-care worker, I will continue to advocate for what’s best for my patients’ well-being. As an immigrant, I will continue to advocate for acceptance of my neighbours, regardless of the differences. As a Canadian, I will continue to promote what I believe Canada to be: a country of reason, acceptance and, most importantly, a place to be you.
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