We Protect Children — But Let ICE Terrorize Them at School

Recently, a child care worker in Chicago was forcibly removed from her place of employment, just steps away from children and families. We should all be outraged.

The early childhood classroom is supposed to be one of the safest spaces in our society. A place where children laugh, learn, and build trust in the world around them. Yesterday, that trust was shattered when federal agents entered a child care program and detained an employee just steps away from her students. No child should ever have to witness something like that in a space created for care.

More than two out of three children and adolescents in the United States experience at least one traumatic event by the age of sixteen. Every child who watched their teacher being taken away yesterday joined that statistic. Those agents initiated or contributed to the trauma of every child in that room. The impact will not end when the classroom returns to its daily routine. These children will remember the fear, the confusion, and the chaos of this event. That memory will stay with them.

Children have a right to feel safe and protected, especially in spaces where they are meant to learn, grow, and thrive. The right to safety should not depend on immigration status, race, or the zip code where a child goes to school. Yet we are watching safety unravel in real time.

Across the country, policymakers claim to be pro-life, passing legislation that limits rights, but you can’t be pro-life and not be pro-children. Where is that protection when a child watches their teacher be handcuffed? Where is that protection when families face food insecurity because of delayed or reduced benefits? Where is that protection when early childhood educators—many of them immigrant women—live in fear that they will be taken away while doing their jobs?

The contradiction is staggering.

When a teacher is forcibly removed from a classroom, children lose more than a trusted adult. They lose a sense of safety that is difficult to rebuild. The educator who greeted them each morning with patience and love is suddenly gone, and no one can explain why. For young children who are still learning to regulate their emotions and build relationships, this disruption can alter their perspective on the world and their place within it.

Food insecurity produces a similar wound. Recent reports show delays in the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) have left millions of families waiting weeks for benefits. A government that claims to value life cannot allow children to go hungry because of bureaucratic failure.

Research shows that children who experience trauma are at higher risk for anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder. When trauma is repeated or ignored, it can alter brain development, affect school performance, and increase the likelihood of long-term health challenges. The trauma of losing a teacher or going hungry at home does not disappear on its own. It becomes part of a child’s story. It shapes how they trust, how they learn, and how they grow into adulthood.

Some will argue that a parent’s immigration status is a personal matter. But the impact on children is not. When fear follows them into classrooms and care spaces, it becomes a community issue — one that demands collective responsibility. Protecting children from trauma is moral, not political.

The solutions are within reach.

Congress and the White House can issue clear policy guidance declaring schools and early learning programs to be safe zones where immigration enforcement is prohibited during operating hours. Local governments can adopt similar protections, ensuring that no child care program ever becomes the scene of an arrest. State agencies and the U.S. Department of Agriculture can strengthen oversight to prevent delays in SNAP benefits, ensuring that families receive assistance on time. Lawmakers can invest in the child care workforce, recognizing educators as essential workers who deserve stability and protection.

We do not need more statements about valuing life. We need action that reflects it.

A society that pulls a teacher from her place of work has lost sight of what it means to protect the innocent. A government that delays food to families while preaching family values has forgotten its own promises. We cannot claim to defend children while allowing them to be traumatized, hungry, or afraid.

If we want to be a nation that truly protects life, we must also protect those lives, beyond the womb, the children in classrooms, the families waiting for food assistance, and the educators who make care possible every day. Anything less is a betrayal of the very values we claim to hold.