23-Year-Old Activist Takes on Federal Agents with Unconventional Tactics

Arturo Gonzalez, a 23-year-old, is on a mission to expose federal agents, and he’s not holding back. Recently, he was in a car scouting for immigration agents when he received a tip about an immigrant worker being pulled over. He quickly entered the address into a second phone attached to the dashboard of a 2013 BMW.

They were eight minutes away, but Gonzalez knew time was of the essence. “We might not make it,” he warned his driver, Cindy Plaza, as she sped out of the parking lot.

Plaza maneuvered through traffic, employing what Gonzalez calls “legal ways to avoid a red light,” making unexpected turns and U-turns. Upon arriving at the library, they found the pickup truck with a roll of carpet in the bed. Inside were work orders and a lunch cooler, but the man was nowhere to be found.

A woman in the parking lot confirmed their fears: “They took him,” she said.

Gonzalez wasted no time going live on Instagram to his 130,000 followers, where his videos often attract hundreds of thousands of views. “You guys, I am live here from National City, where ICE just kidnapped this man just minutes ago,” he announced.

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After filming, he discovered an address in the truck’s glovebox and headed there to inform the man’s family about what had happened. Across the nation, President Donald Trump’s immigration policies have sparked a movement known as “ICE watching,” where citizens document agents’ actions to protect detainees’ rights. However, Gonzalez’s approach is more accurately described as ICE chasing. For over a year, he has been racing to scenes across San Diego, filming encounters and attempting to prevent what he labels “kidnappings.”

“Let’s face it,” Gonzalez declared. “No one can catch ICE like me.”

In an era of extreme online polarization, Gonzalez has emerged as an anti-ICE influencer. His confrontations with federal agents—whom he refers to as “Nazi-ass bitches”—have earned him a substantial following, including half a million on TikTok. He receives real-time leads from San Diego residents regarding immigration enforcement and has been crowdfunding his activism, gaining notoriety within ICE, which has labeled him an “agitator.”

Even some allies in the fight against Trump’s deportation efforts express concern over Gonzalez’s methods, fearing potential harm. “I don’t necessarily agree with how he does everything,” said one ICE watcher who wished to remain anonymous. “But he is a very good community resource.”

His encounters can be thrilling but also unpredictable and dangerous. One of his live videos last November resulted in a physical confrontation between residents and agents at a transit stop.

“They deserve pushback,” Gonzalez stated about ICE personnel. “We want to make sure that they know that they are not welcome in our neighborhoods, that they are pieces of shit, and that what they’re doing is modern-day Nazi behavior.”

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After the library incident, Gonzalez received another tip about a plainclothes federal agent sitting in a truck outside a market in Logan Heights. He arrived to find an unmarked Ford F-150 with tinted windows and pressed his phone against the passenger-side glass, demanding identification from the occupant. The man claimed to be with the U.S. Marshals Service, which has assisted ICE under Trump’s administration.

“Got your face,” Gonzalez taunted as the agent attempted to cover himself with a hoodie while being filmed.

“U.S. marshals are here! They work with ICE!” he shouted into a bullhorn. “¡La migra está aquí!”

An old man across the street began blowing a whistle, and one of Gonzalez’s followers arrived with her own whistle after watching his livestream. Bystanders emerged from nearby storefronts to witness the scene.

The marshal eventually drove off, disappearing down the street.

Gonzalez typically begins his patrols before morning rush hour, checking for tips that may have come in overnight. If none are available, he heads to working-class Latino neighborhoods known for immigration-related arrests, looking for suspicious vehicles like tinted SUVs.

He frequently runs license plate numbers through Carfax to identify potentially law enforcement vehicles and maintains a spreadsheet of previously encountered cars. He follows these SUVs closely at red lights, signaling drivers to roll down their windows and asking about their agency affiliation while observing for telltale signs like patriotic tattoos or tactical clothing.

Inspired by resistance efforts in Los Angeles, Gonzalez began confronting ICE officers last June as deportation campaigns intensified under Trump. While cities like L.A. and Minneapolis received national attention for their raids, San Diego has also seen an uptick in detentions. Many detainees end up at Otay Mesa Detention Center near the Mexican border, where they have thrown lotion bottles over the fence with notes detailing their conditions.

San Diego has a history of neighborhood patrols aimed at monitoring law enforcement activities. Uni ón del Barrio has been advocating for immigrants through such efforts for decades. However, Gonzalez operates independently without formal training or guidelines, supported by a small group of activists who appreciate his social media-driven approach.

Plaza attempted ICE watching with a volunteer group but found their restrictions too limiting; they discouraged social media use and wanted patrollers to maintain distance from agents. “What’s the point?” she questioned. She views shaming as part of their mission and believes prevention is more important than mere documentation.

“His style definitely suits me,” she said of Gonzalez.

This approach has sparked intense local debate over the balance between oversight and provocation. Some critics dismiss Gonzalez as a clout-chaser exploiting Trump’s deportation surge—a claim he attributes to jealousy.

Gonzalez has raised nearly $50,000 through GoFundMe, much of which goes toward gas and car expenses while also donating to immigrant street vendors. He claims his social media accounts generate $1,000 to $2,000 monthly through content monetization, providing him with a full-time income that he prefers over fast food or hospitality jobs after high school.

“Social media is a job now,” he asserted. “It never used to be, but it is now a way that someone can make a living.”

Despite it being illegal to impede or interfere with federal agents during their duties, Gonzalez has never faced charges for such actions. The law is vague, and Trump’s Justice Department has struggled to secure convictions against individuals confronting federal officers over the past year.

Gonzalez acknowledged that his tips sometimes lead him to encounters unrelated to immigration enforcement. “It’s hard sometimes to determine things, but we do our best,” he admitted.

The work carries risks on multiple fronts. A reporter’s ride-along with Gonzalez and Plaza involved numerous U-turns and even a minor fender bender requiring insurance information exchange. Encounters with federal agents can turn deadly for individuals like Renée Good and Alex Pretti.

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In November, Gonzalez followed a black van driven by a federal agent during a livestream that attracted residents to a trolley stop where agents tackled one person and pepper-sprayed another. Agents accused him of interfering but he fled on foot when confronted.

The following month, while driving his own car, Gonzalez followed what he believed was an ICE agent until state highway patrol officers pulled him over at the agent's request for driving with a suspended license. His car was impounded due to unpaid fines.

Gonzalez estimates he has put nearly 14,000 miles on Plaza's BMW while searching for agents since borrowing it.

The Department of Homeland Security did not respond to requests for comment regarding Gonzalez. However, in March, San Diego ICE labeled him an agitator with “a long criminal history” following an incident where he fled from agents into a nearby school.

Court records indicate Gonzalez faced misdemeanor theft charges in December that were dismissed shortly after filing. An earlier theft charge was diverted rather than prosecuted. ICE also accused him of assault with a deadly weapon; however, no record exists in San Diego courts regarding this claim, which Gonzalez denies. He admitted to pleading guilty to reckless driving after a DUI arrest years ago but described it as a mistake.

Gonzalez views ICE's statement as an attempt to discredit him and believes it underscores the effectiveness of his actions.

“They know I’m effective,” he stated. “And they know it won’t be easy when I’m around.”

Yet when watching videos of himself confronting agents or stepping in front of their vehicles, he contemplates the potential consequences for his safety.

“I make myself nervous sometimes,” he confessed.