Jose Angel Rodriguez doesn’t like when his stepmother goes outside alone.

As he prepares to leave for the U.S. Marine Corps in less than a month, the 24-year-old has been haunted by news of families split apart and deported. Murmurs of people detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement at a local barber shop, Westfield Montgomery Mall and a nearby food distribution site have sparked panic.

“I’ve got three siblings that are way too little to be left alone,” he said on a recent Tuesday morning, following his mother around a Montgomery County food pantry.

It didn’t matter whether he got off a 12-hour shift or if she was heading to CVS; Rodriguez clung to her as if he was still the boy who fled Honduras by her side over a decade ago. It was his turn to keep her safe.

“I won’t let them take her,” he said.

The pantry in Wheaton is one of several in the area that have made it a public mission to feed their community, regardless of citizenship status. Immigrants make up about a third of Montgomery County residents, according to data compiled by the Vera Institute in March 2025. Volunteers and local leaders hope that by providing a safe place to receive food, they can salvage a sense of security being challenged by a new wave of immigration enforcement.

Arrests by ICE officers in Maryland have more than doubled since President Donald Trump returned to office, according to government records. Many detained don’t have prior convictions or criminal charges. At times, the state’s average weekly arrest rate outpaced the nationwide average. Aid groups have warned of people forgoing food and other critical resources as raids are reported on worksites and restaurants. In recent months, local pantry lines dwindled despite the rising rates of food insecurity across Montgomery County.

On July 30, Rodriguez was one of hundreds at the Hughes United Methodist Church’s food pantry. But you’d never know.

The lines for fresh fruits and vegetables no longer snake down the block. Inside, people fill the church pews. Volunteers lock doors and check IDs before taking turns as lookout, hovering around the perimeter. The Rev. Diana Wingeier-Rayo, who manages the pantry, said she saw seven ICE cars parked in the church lot just a few weeks ago.

“We know they’re watching us,” she said.

Wingeier-Rayo, who immigrated to the United States from Nicaragua, starts most mornings stationed at the side door. She greets pantry-goers with talk show host charisma, complimenting tired faces, playing with children, and switching between English, Spanish and sometimes sign language to welcome people inside.

“I am not afraid,” she said of ICE, whose members she refers to as “bounty hunters.”

Adama Bangura says the security measures taken by the pantry in the last three months have made her feel safer. She and her husband immigrated from Sierra Leone to Prince George’s County, where their 4-year-old son was born.

The couple have their green cards, “but that fear [of detainment] will always be in the back of your mind,” she said as she sat in a pew, holding her child.

“It’s made us consider not going to get food,” she said.

Other faith leaders in the area are following in Wingeier-Rayo’s footsteps. Silver Spring United Methodist Church Pastor William Ed Greene said he’s educating volunteers how to interact with ICE and helping families send proxies to the pantry to pick up food. His distribution doesn’t have to ask visitors for their personal information because it doesn’t get county or state funding.

John Anderson, who is responsible for food rescue and delivery at the nonprofit Small Things Matter, has also seen changes in operations at the pantry. He heard from volunteers across Takoma Park that people were afraid to show up, which he believes may be linked to the area’s recent designation as a “sanctuary jurisdiction."

In response, Small Things Matter removed all public notices of the pantry’s times and locations. Instead, they are using text chains and list-servs to reach the more than 7,000 people served. Anderson expects need to rise even more from unemployment in the public sector. He’s already noticed an increase in need among the Asian immigrant population, and specifically seniors, which could grow as cuts to the federal Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program take effect.

Certain humanitarian immigrant groups, such as survivors of trafficking, refugees and asylum seekers, will no longer be eligible for the food stamp program, according to Lauren Schuyler, assistant director of the University of Maryland’s Family Welfare Research.

The changes are expected to dissuade many eligible families from seeking assistance, she said.

Rodriguez’s stepmother said she’s strayed away from public safety net programs in recent months over worries her personal information could make the family a target. She declined to be named out of concerns for her safety.

Rodriguez enlisted in the Marines hoping it would expedite her path to citizenship. Maybe it would give the family more time, more resources — or maybe not.

Just weeks away from boot camp, he helped her load the car in the pantry parking lot. He embraced her, his curly hair towering at least one foot over the woman that raised him.

For a moment, their eyes closed and they were alone. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed his waist, reassuring him.

She was still here.