The Inescapable Intersection of SGF and ICE Protests

Nathan Grayson of Aftermath DM’d me and asked, “what was it like for you, personally, to cover [Summer Game Fest] amid the protests? A lot of people I spoke to during the show expressed guilt and bewilderment, but as your post today gets at, there are many ways to support immigrants. And of course, people still have to put food on the table at the end of the day. With the benefit of (relative) hindsight, how are you feeling about the weird work event vs world event tension we all experienced these past few days?

I started to write a short response but it turned into an article. This is that article.

It’s Friday, June 6, 2025. The LA protests against the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) continue. My fiance tells me, “You should probably text your dad.”

We don’t talk that often but he always, eventually, responds to a text. He’s a stereotypical, to himself, kind of father.

My dad lives in LA. He’s a hotel service worker. And he’s visibly Mexican. 

My dad has been documented for my entire life. He immigrated here in the 80s from Tlacolula, Oaxaca, with the help of a few siblings who came before him. During Ronald Regan’s presidency, my dad became one of the “estimated 3 million individuals—mostly of Hispanic descent—[who] gained legal status through the [Immigration Reform and Control Act of 1986]. 

But papers will never make you White. 

It’s Thursday, May 1, 2008. I’m in elementary school in my hometown of Chicago. People walk towards the Federal Building as part of the nationwide immigration rallies. "Hoping to re-ignite the immigration debate in time for the presidential elections say this year's efforts are focused less on protests and more on voter registration and setting an agenda for the next president" (CBS).

My overwhelmingly Hispanic elementary school incentivizes attendance that day to stop kids from attending the weekday protest. I forget if it was a prize, an auditorium day, or what. 

It’s Wednesday, November 9th, 2016. Donald Trump is elected president for the first time. My dad comes down the stairs and says, “I guess we know what they really think about us,” and leaves the room.

It’s Friday, June 5, 2025. My dad texts me back, and says, “yeah you’re right” when I say “ICE is racist.” He says, “Fortunately, it’s nice and quiet here in The Valley so far.”

It’s Sunday, June 8, 2025. My colleagues and I start our day early to vlog some shopping in Santee Alley. It’s one of my favorite places in the city because it reminds me of the street markets in Mexico and is full of all my favorite things: bootlegs, spicy mango slices, soccer jerseys, and people of color making a living.

Ruby Cordova from El Nuevo Sol reflects on Santee Alley as "a cultural stop that resides in the heart of Los Angeles. It is home to many members of the Latino community who not only work there selling clothes, shoes, jewelry, and food but also a fairly popular tourist place for Los Angeles… In recent years, Los Angeles has been subjected to many forms of gentrification which has put many residents and workers at risk for displacement and lack of income. The people work here day and night trying to make ends meet by any means necessary.”

Time is a flat circle when it comes to immigration reform in America. We’ve been fighting for immigration reform for as long as I can remember. Time is a flat circle. Summer Game Fest (SGF) and the ICE Protests felt more like a crossover than a collision. But for some in our industry, the LA protests against ICE may have been illuminating. 

I hope those who felt guilty convert that into action. I encourage those who felt fear to explore it. Fear can be natural, but I think it's important to contextualize those feelings against other people's lived realities and consider what you are afraid of. Is it the police? And if so, are you usually afraid of them? For many SGF attendees, I imagine the answer is no. While everyone I grew up with was hardwired to be hyperaware of the police. 

I think it's also natural to feel like gaming, games criticism, PR, and every other way we center our lives around games is trivial in the context of bigger, real-world issues: because it is. But that doesn't mean it's "dumb." 

This work means a lot to me. It's a big part of who I am. And art is meaningful. I don't want this to be misconstrued as "you don't have to do anything because your job is still relevant to the world.” But who you are and what you do is never fully compartmentalized.

Walking with empathy and fighting for equity is an everyday practice. It's why many of us recoiled and publicly criticized the CEO of Splitgate wearing a Make FPS Great Again hat on stage at the Summer Game Fest live show. It’s why games like Dosa Divas, that celebrate culture, matter beyond analyzing how fun it is. It’s why I wore my Mexico jersey to the Giant Bomb couch. 

I am the daughter of an immigrant. I will be Mexican forever. The weight of this weekend hit different because things have always been heavy. 

This is my third year at Summer Game Fest and with every year come disparaging comments about Los Angeles. It builds up quickly: “I hate downtown LA. I hate LAX. I hate how dirty it is here. I hate the sirens outside my hotel window. I hate the traffic. I hate how expensive the uber is tonight.” The list goes on. 

LA’s biggest haters from the games industry would be quick to say they’re only here because they have to be for work. For some of them, that’s probably true. But for many I know that it is not. The reality is they wanted to attend SGF: for their own coverage, for the opportunities, to network, for the experience, that list goes on too. 

People are quick to reap LA’s benefits while dismissing the entire culture. People will exclusively take from LA then claim the city is fake. As if there was anything genuine about coming to a city to get what you need while complaining the whole time that you needed it at all. 

I’m sure they’d be ready to clarify that it’s not the people, it’s the city itself, and that’s frankly even more frustrating: the fact that they think the two can be divorced. That the place can be separated from the people. 

It can’t.

But behind fencing, blocked roads, security-guarded metal detectors, and the tall hedges of SGF's campus, it’s easy to pretend. They can imagine they’re not in the city they love to hate. This year, they couldn’t.

It was virtually impossible to ignore the fact that while we shook hands with industry peers, sipped free coffee, and picked up another Razer headset, we were in Los Angeles. A place where Trump deployed the National Guard, curfews were enacted, and Waymos burned. 

I’m proud of LA all the time, in this incredibly unkind year, the city has created immense kindness. From supporting each other during and after the wildfires to recent protests. There’s an undeniable strength and beauty there. 

While the friction between immigration and America has been ongoing but so has the resistance. I’ve been here the whole time and I intend to stay.

I hope this situation makes just a few outsiders humanize LA more while asking themselves when was the last time they stood up against ICE and everything it represents.