On October 24, Parker students received an email informing them that ICE agents had been spotted in our ward. We learned that off-campus privileges had been paused, that younger students who attended Parker PM were unable to go about their usual after-school activities in the neighborhood, and that no one was to be dismissed until the usual time. Even though ICE agents are prohibited from entering the building itself, the anxiety in the air was tangible.
“We have clear protocols in case ICE comes to campus, including not allowing law enforcement or ICE to enter our building without a valid warrant,” Dr. Frank said in his email. “We will have increased security during dismissal.” Even with these reassurances, plenty of people, myself included, were still worried. Would they be able to get home safely? Would their friends be safe? What would happen if there were an altercation between agents and the students? Questions like these, and many more, loomed large over Parker students’ heads.
I remember worrying about my family’s safety as they made their way from work to see Parker’s fall play. I remember my friends telling me that they weren’t sure how they’d be getting home, since it wasn’t safe for them to walk to the train station or bus stop. I remember thinking, “Hey, at least the school’s taking action to protect its students,” but then pausing, realizing how terrible it was to need protection from our own government.
Not too long before Parker’s brush with ICE, agents raided a Chicago apartment building. According to CNN, parents and their young children were jolted out of bed in the middle of the night, and people were detained regardless of immigration status. Residents (including kids) had their hands zip-tied and were forced into the back of military-style trucks, where they were held for upwards of three hours. Raids like this one, with agents rappelling from helicopters and kicking in doors, are filmed by the DHS’s “ICE, Camera, Action!” program and set to action movie-style music and fancy editing, then distributed via social media. Videos like these have faced criticism for glorifying trauma for the sake of propaganda. To me, media like this is not only deeply disturbing, but a vile, exploitative method of spreading fear amongst Chicagoans. People can hold opposing political views, and that’s perfectly acceptable—but there’s still a difference between right and wrong, and I’m certain that taking advantage of people’s terror for clout and tying up children under the age of five in the middle of the night without their parents in sight is wrong.
Even with all this and more, I can confidently say that something good came from that day. I saw how Parker’s community can come together. From parents reaching out to offer carpools home, to Principal Frank’s email, to Mr. Moster ensuring everybody involved in the play was able to get dinner without leaving the building, it’s clear that our school still upholds our pillar of community. In times like these, where fear, hate, and terror are being spread, we need a strong body of people willing to support one another. With fear everywhere, a few kind words or a helping hand can go a long way.
