Amplifiers and Organizing: Antelope Valley Community Pushes Back on ICE Actions With Performance
- hermespadilla5
- Apr 6
- 3 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
PALMDALE, Calif.—Erica Schwartz has gone to many shows and as an activist, knew community building very well.. So when she took the stage at Transplants Brewery on March 21—exposed rafters above her, concrete floors below, and murals on the walls—she recognized what was forming in the room before it fully took shape.
Ultimately, when all is said and done, all we have is each other," she told the crowd of 120. She explained the importance of why everyone was gathered on a Saturday afternoon. She then stepped back and let the amplifiers take over.
The room became what she had promised: a place to find your people.
The people were responding to a surge in activity by Immigration and Customs Enforcement.. Rather than a rally or march, organizations— Southern Border Communities Coalition (SBCC), Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights (CHIRLA) and the Immigrant Defenders Law Center decided to educate and organize using performances.
Inside the brewery, better known for its craft beer and friendly cat, Patches, the night unfolded as both a fundraiser and show. Folding tables held zines from the Working Class Action Network, including one titled "It is Fascism, Start Acting Like It." The Antelope Valley Community Art Center ran a silent auction for art pieces depicting thoughts on the ruling class.
Schwartz knows the stakes personally. During the first Trump administration, she and her husband were returning from Mexico with their two-year-old daughter when CBP agents tried to take her child, claiming she didn't look like her mother. "They tried to tell my husband, 'How could you marry someone that looked like that?'" she told the crowd. She had documentation. Others don't. "If one group's liberties are being robbed, next it's gonna be ours."
The music started. .XOM, a local band played, forming a mosh pit. It wasn’t long until the space felt more like a concert than an educational gathering. Suburban Burn Outs played heavier, abrasive sets. Post Due, leaned melodic. Flesh Rad! closed with raw intensity.
Between sets, the organizing continued. Matt Luker, who owns Transplants with his wife Sarah, explained why a brewery hosts anti-ICE benefits. "Punk has always been about questioning authority. And right now, the authority is terrorizing our neighbors. This isn't radical—it's just human." They've hosted social justice events before, but now aim for something monthly: know-your-rights trainings, art markets, radical educator meetups. "We want to normalize having activism at our regular events," Luker said. He mentioned how he wants the place to "have SEIU taking signatures alongside a Friday night band."
Three high school students, names withheld for protection—took the stage to announce their next walkout. "If you don't interfere in politics, politics is gonna interfere in your life," one student said. Their last action drew hundreds. "They want you," James told the crowd. "They're looking for you. And as fucked up as it is, only for one reason—'cause we're minorities."
By the end, Schwartz's opening promise had materialized. People who arrived alone left in conversation and formed groups holding conversations in the parking lot. A student organizer had scanned a QR code for the Peace and Freedom Party. Someone had signed a petition to tax billionaires and fund Medi-Cal.
For those inside, the night didn't feel like an exception. It felt familiar, because one thing that the Antelope Valley has always done is know how to throw a good benefit show.
Portions of this article were refined using AI-assisted editing for clarity and style. All reporting, quotes and editorial decisions are the work of the author. Written for Emerson College.
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