As a clinical psychologist who has worked with traumatized children and families for decades, I am deeply distressed to see children being leveraged to influence their families, and ultimately whole communities, in the name of immigration reform. The methodology of detention as deterrence has intended and unintended psychological consequences on children – both now and as they mature into adulthood.
We’re hearing about children across the country who have been detained and sometimes separated from caregivers and their families. A variation of what happened to Liam in Minneapolis was repeated in an airport recently, as a 9-year-old crying child watched her mother be arrested by ICE. Impacted children are unable to remain in their familiar schools, and abruptly lose connection to valued teachers and classmates, thereby interrupting their education. They are expected to adapt to long-distance travel to faraway holding centers. They are expected to adapt to new living situations, new daily routines, new diets, new sleeping arrangements, new rules about when and how to play, and more. These challenges are layered on top of the fundamental terror they likely felt, seeing their parents held by ICE and witnessing them struggle to navigate the complexities of immigration-related legal matters.
These experiences, as recently described by Mike Hixenbaugh of the NBC News Enterprise team, are even more complex, tragic, and detrimental when detained children have medical and/or emotional special needs. Miriam Jordan, Sarah Mervosh, and Allison McCann share this poignant statement from a teen in the Dilley Immigration Processing Center (New York Times, 2/14/2026), “I start crying, shaking…I just want to get out of here…It’s hell.”
There is a ripple effect that we should prepare for, because detaining children impacts them now, and potentially in the future. These stories bring into sharp relief what we in the mental health field already know: Children who experience this level of fear, unsafety and unpredictability are experiencing harm. Witnessing the world around them become unpredictable and unsafe over extended periods of time puts a heavy emotional weight on children. These Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) correlate with increased risk for adult physical and mental health challenges. When children experience ACEs during critical developmental periods, it is likely that there will be lasting changes in how they perceive safety, how they form relationships, and how they regulate their emotions as adults.
Ok, so it is rough and regrettable that more than 900 children have been held in family detention longer than 20 days. But that’s not the full picture. Children who have had classmates and friends “disappear” are impacted, confused, and worried. Children who live in communities that feel the weight of ICE have said, “We’re just tired. Tired of our parents not leaving their houses — struggling to find a way to get money — basically just to take care of us.” — Ana Olivares, quoted in the Chicago Tribune. Children who are far removed from these experiences in their own daily life, hear and read about kids who have been detained, families that have suffered, and lives that have been lost. It seeps into their thoughts as they consider what might be possible or even probable. And now that ICE is in airports, I’ve heard from children in my psychotherapy practice who worry untrained ICE agents will not be able to adequately perform security checks to keep traveler’s safe going through security. They hope this is resolved before their family’s spring break vacation starts!
Is this what parents and caregivers, healthcare providers and healers, educators and coaches want for children? Overloading children with intense stress, disrupting their ability to pause and experience ordinary life and its opportunities for healthy imaginative play and development? A new reality of being unsafe is taking hold.
Regardless of our proximity to the immigration crackdowns and detention centers, important questions emerge for us all consider. We need to think about the cumulative effect of these stressors on an entire generation of children. What can we do to mitigate the current and future consequences of immigration enforcement distress? What can help children cope better with high levels of uncertainty? Are there practices that support children when their sleep is disturbed, when their emotions are dysregulated, and when their thoughts are negative and produce additional tension? Psychological science holds some answers.
Building on decades of research, field work, and the clinical experience of psychologists and pediatricians, we understand the value of providing age-appropriate, tangible comfort items to children, with accompanying guidance for their caregivers. Simple, accessible mind-body practices create comfort, and children can learn lifelong skills to re-regulate their feelings. This form of psychological first aid is not therapy, nor does it reverse or undo the very real fears many children face. But it does offer children comfort, hope, and a way to disrupt some of the neurobiological changes that occur when they face chronic stress. A way to lighten the load right now.
Children of all ages are speaking up and crying out, and adults need to respond. This is challenging, but it can be done. Adults who “co-regulate” (interact in a way to enhance calmness) with children, despite their own fear and suffering, lend calm, empathy and kindness to others. This helps bring the ordinary back to extraordinary times. Let’s look for opportunities to foster a sense of comfort and co-regulate with those who are fearful.
Trauma-informed care teaches us that healing is possible; however, prevention is essential. Healthcare providers, educators, and others who interface with children have a call to action. To mitigate the impact of fear and exposure to community violence on children, we must prioritize supporting emotional safety and regulation, valuing connection to others, and preserving predictable child-centered learning environments.