ICE-Queen Kristi Noem celebrates her birthday in a Mexican restaurant - and all of Watertown holds its breath

When the head of the country's largest deportation machine sits laughing in a Mexican restaurant, wearing a pink sombrero on her head and applauding “Feliz cumpleaños”, it is not a scandal but a snapshot of the political schizophrenia of this government. Kristi Noem, the woman who for months has ensured with stoic severity that families are torn apart, children moved into detention centers and people imprisoned without any accusation, suddenly sits in the very place where her agency usually knocks on the door. And in front of her are employees who presumably check before every workday whether someone from their team will disappear again today.

The restaurant owner of Watertown likely pretended to have the calmest pulse of his life that evening. Internally, he probably prayed that no one from his kitchen would be loaded into a van during a “routine check”. It is hard to decide what was more dangerous: the sharp knife of a cook or the possibility that Noem might order a “hot raspberry ice raid” for dessert. The sombrero may have been pink, but for many in the room a gray shadow hung over the scene. While she applauded with a smile, the reality she is responsible for raged outside: people who live in the same country as she does, but with the constant feeling that the next blow from above is coming. They are exactly the ones Noem exploits politically, the ones used for headlines, the ones who disappear into statistics. And now they are supposed to watch her enjoy her birthday cake in the style of the very culture whose members she has placed in shackles every day.

The question arises of how one can celebrate among the very people one is also persecuting. But perhaps that is precisely the perfect image for this government: Eat the culture, deport the people. Salsa yes, residence permit no. “Happy Birthday” in Spanish always works - as long as it is not about the rights of those who sing it. One can easily imagine the scene: the waiter raising his voice while his thoughts consist of just one sentence: “Please just let me go home today.” The grandchild who cannot help that his grandmother spreads more fear than any menu with hot sauce. And Kristi Noem, looking contentedly into the camera as if it were all an expression of “God’s blessings”, as she later wrote. For others, blessings only count as long as they do not end up in the back seat of an ICE or DHS vehicle.

The greatest irony, however, remains: not a single person in this restaurant has ever needed Kristi Noem as much as all those she addresses in her speeches with an uplifted finger. Maybe that is the true reason for the pink sombrero - a color code between ignorance and self-satisfaction. Or simply the symbol of a politician who likes Mexico on her plate but not in her immigration statistics. It would be funny if it were not so bitter.