The Power of Hope in the Face of Immigration Fear
Let’s talk about something really tough. Since 2007, I’ve worked with mixed-immigration-status and undocumented children and families, and the lessons they’ve taught me over nearly two decades have profoundly shaped who I am. My first job in Napa, California, introduced me to the stark realities of immigration raids.
My students would talk about ICE agents as if they were stormtroopers, supernatural forces tearing through their lives in the dark of early mornings. The fear in their voices, the weight of their lived stories, and the uncertainty they carried have stayed with me through every role I’ve had as a speech therapist.
Throughout my career, in different schools and districts, I’ve continued to work with this population. Partly, I thrive on challenges, but I also feel an overwhelming empathy for these families because I’m one of them. I believe I was meant to walk this path, guided by something greater than myself. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a multiracial family where embracing other cultures was an expected norm. Perhaps it’s because I know what it feels like to be alone, and I never want anyone else to feel that way. I’m not sure the reason, but I do know I often feel I’m walking between two parallel but starkly different worlds.
After a lull in immigration fears during the height of the pandemic, the current climate has brought those same fears roaring back. This time, they’ve found a place not just in my students’ stories but in my own home. I try to shield my children from the news, but some fears are impossible to avoid.
When my kids ask, “Will we be okay?” I don’t always have the answer. I wish I could promise them that our family won’t be torn apart, that everything will be fine. But the truth is, I don’t know.
And yet, I choose to believe it will be because that belief keeps us moving forward.
The American Dream They Were Sold
Many undocumented immigrants came here chasing the same dream so many of us fall for, a promise of a better, easier life. Stories from social media, friends, or relatives painted a picture of opportunity for themselves and their children. Movies shared a world of luxury and suburban mansions. But the reality is far more complex. Many families spent everything they had to get here, and there’s no way back. As years pass, connections to their home countries fade, marriages are made, new babies are born and grow, and ties to the past dissolve. They’re stuck in limbo, caught between the life they left behind and the one they’re struggling to build.
For their children, this means growing up in uncertainty, navigating a world where they are often invisible, learning to fear authority figures, and carrying the burden of being told, implicitly or explicitly, that they are not worthy of the same dreams as their peers. And the stereotypes? The ones that paint these kids as future gang members or criminals? That’s not what I’ve seen. Very few children make those choices unless they’re trapped between survival and impossibility. At their core, these kids are just like any other children, yearning for safety, stability, and a chance to belong.
Why Does It Feel Worse Now?
The fears surrounding immigration feel heavier than ever:
Is it because social media amplifies misinformation and fear?
Is it jealousy over government support that people assume immigrants receive? Let me tell you, this is not the reality. I’m living it on many fronts.
Is it flat-out racism?
A refusal to accept other languages?
Fear of losing resources or control?
I’ve also seen the burden on schools and even felt it myself. Teachers are overwhelmed, and expected to ensure all children succeed with limited resources. Adding bilingual students to their classrooms can feel like an impossible challenge.
But what if we focused on the humanity of the situation and just let go of the rest of it? These are children, not problems. Kids who, through no fault of their own, have been uprooted from their homes and placed in a world they don’t fully understand.
Choosing Humanity
We are all here for such a short time, 80 or 90 years if we’re lucky. Who has the right to decide that one family deserves to stay together while another does not? Who gets to say that one child deserves safety while another must live in fear?
When a child looks at me and asks, “Will it be okay?” whether it’s my own child or one of my students, I want to say, “Yes.” Even if I don’t know for sure, I hold onto hope because belief is powerful.
As Viktor Frankl said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
A Message for You
If you need to hear it, let me say it now, “It’s going to be okay.” We may not know how or when, but we are resilient. Even when the worst happens, we find ways to keep moving forward.
Let’s focus on humanity, on hope, and on the belief that every child deserves the chance to grow, learn, and feel safe. Let’s be the light others can hold onto when everything feels dark.
We may not have all the answers, but we can show up. We can choose to believe.
And we can keep saying, “It’s going to be okay.”