ICE Raids Turn Life into Daily Terror for Minneapolis Schoolchildren
In south Minneapolis, a special education student recently logged on for an online class from the basement, hiding as immigration agents banged at the door. This scene encapsulates the pervasive fear gripping the community, where Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids are upending daily life and education. As Trump-deployed agents pervade the region, students struggle to carry on with lessons while grappling with grief and anxiety that they or their loved ones could be taken away.
Educational Disruption and Emotional Turmoil
The operation has mobilized 3,000 federal agents, arresting people at school bus stops, on morning commutes, and outside churches. This has led to a significant disruption in the education system. For instance, a second grader had a panic attack in art class after his father was detained, requiring his teacher to comfort him for half an hour. Similarly, preschooler Liam Ramos and his father were detained upon returning home from school and flown to a Texas detention center, with Ramos becoming a symbol of the indiscriminate nature of these operations.
Parents and teachers report that students are displaying symptoms of traumatic stress, such as falling asleep in class or bursting into tears. During lockdowns, known as "code yellow" alerts for ICE sightings, some elementary-aged children have even wet themselves out of fear. "Nobody said 'ICE' or anything like that but the kids know," said Silvia, an art teacher. "They are having a trauma response."
Segregation and Safety Concerns in Schools
The situation has enforced a form of segregation, with many immigrant families keeping their children at home. "Most of the brown kids are at home, and the other kids are at the school," Silvia noted. Schools have reopened with virtual learning options, but teachers of specialized classes like art and music often cannot offer remote instruction, exacerbating inequalities.
Teachers have had to adapt their lessons to address safety. Phil, a special education teacher, postponed a civil rights unit to coach students on how to respond if ICE agents knock on their door. "My lessons were to protect my students," he said, expressing anger at the necessity. His students, including those with disabilities, practiced scenarios like taking deep breaths and finding safe routes when hearing alert whistles.
Community Response and Ongoing Struggles
Educators and community members are fighting back. Recently, about 60 educators held a "teach-in" at Minneapolis city hall, reading a bilingual children's book about migration to rebuke ICE's presence. Teachers like Kate, an early childhood educator, are providing social services, arranging food drop-offs for families too afraid to leave home. "Every day, ICE is more destructive in our communities, and there's more students isolated and in need," she said.
The stress extends beyond the classroom. Families are avoiding hospitals due to ICE presence, and teachers are using sick days to stay safe. Silvia shared a heartbreaking moment when a second grader blamed himself for his father's detention, saying, "No my dad's not going to be OK. Trump has guns. They can kill him." To cope, she introduced watercolors as a healing medium, finding it calming for both herself and her students.
Long-Term Impacts and Personal Sacrifices
This crisis is causing what Kate describes as generational trauma, with harm that may last for decades. US citizens of color, like Silvia and Phil, now carry their passports for protection, a practice they find "icky and disgusting." Teachers carpool and vary routes to avoid being followed by agents, with Silvia admitting, "I try to put on a good face, but as soon as the kids are on the bus back home, I'm crying."
As the community grapples with fear and loss, the educational and emotional toll on Minneapolis schoolchildren continues to mount, highlighting the profound impact of immigration enforcement on young lives.
