When Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents swept through Chicago in fall 2025, the reverberations were felt far beyond the city’s immigrant communities. Operation Midway Blitz, as it was called, saw federal agents interrogate, assault, and arrest both non-citizens and citizens alike, sparking outrage, fear, and a wave of activism across the city and the country. The crackdown, part of a broader escalation in immigration enforcement since President Trump’s return to office, has left a trail of personal hardship, legal battles, and unexpected consequences for the American workforce.
At the heart of Chicago’s response was Alexandra Block, Director of the Criminal Legal Systems and Policing Project for the ACLU of Illinois. Block, who leads a team of 21 attorneys, found herself on the front lines, fighting for the rights of those swept up in the ICE operation. Her office became a hub for pleas from Chicagoans desperate for change. According to The Forum, Block’s journey to this role began as an employment lawyer, but her passion for public service and government transparency led her to the ACLU, where she could combine her litigation skills with her commitment to civil rights. “I guess I came [to] this current job through a little bit of a circuitous route, both through learning litigation skills in the private practice of law, and also doing volunteer and pro bono work on the issues that I really cared about,” Block told The Forum.
Operation Midway Blitz was not a surprise to Block or her colleagues. “President Trump had been saying since before the election that he planned to ramp up immigration enforcement, and he’s particularly planned to target blue cities,” she explained. Chicago, like Los Angeles and Portland before it, became a focal point for these efforts. In anticipation, the ACLU and other community organizations had spent months conducting “Know Your Rights” training sessions, preparing residents for the possibility of mass arrests and legal challenges.
The crackdown quickly escalated into violence. The National Guard retaliated against peaceful protests in Chicago, and reports of inhumane conditions at the Federal ICE Detention Center in Broadview, Illinois, began to surface. Detainees were crammed 100 to a cell, forced to endure overflowing toilets, moldy food, and insufficient water. “There were 100 people to a cell with overflowing toilets, moldy food, [and] not enough water,” Block recounted. “Conditions that you would never wish on another human being.”
Block’s team sprang into action, filing lawsuits to protect the rights of protesters and detainees. Judge Sara Ellis granted a preliminary injunction prohibiting federal agents from abusing rapid response teams and protesters. Meanwhile, Judge Robert Gettleman, ruling in the case of Moreno Gonzalez v. Noem, ordered ICE to clean the Broadview facility twice daily, provide soap and toothbrushes, permit showers, and supply mattresses to detainees. These victories were hard-won and deeply personal for Block, who knew the lead plaintiff, Pablo Moreno Gonzalez, through his activist wife. Gonzalez, who had lived in the U.S. for 35 years, was arrested on October 29 and released on November 7 after the court order. “The fact that he was picked up was heartbreaking and terrifying, but he was let out [on Nov. 7] and got to spend the weekend with his family,” Block said.
For Block and her colleagues, these legal wins were only part of the battle. They also sought to remind the public of the humanity of those affected. “Everyone who’s arrested is a worker, a parent, or a child of someone,” she emphasized. Ingrid Dorer-Fitzpatrick, a history teacher and human rights expert, echoed this sentiment, warning that ignoring immigrants’ humanity enables their mistreatment. “If you’re giving [agents] the right to sort of ignore some of the basic rights that people have when it comes to being stopped, searched, asked for identification, [then] we’ve made [the immigration issue] worse,” Dorer-Fitzpatrick told The Forum.
The crackdown in Chicago was not an isolated incident. Across the country, immigration enforcement has surged since early 2025, with profound effects on American society. A new report by economists Chris Herbst and Erdal Tekin, released in partnership with Better Life Lab at New America, found that between February and July 2025, the increase in ICE arrests led to 39,000 fewer foreign-born child care workers and 77,000 fewer U.S.-born working mothers employed. The research, based on ICE arrest data from 2023 onward, used statistical methods to isolate the impact of enforcement on labor force participation.
“The headline is that the recent increase in immigration enforcement has had negative implications for the labor force,” Herbst told Better Life Lab. “It’s led to a reduction in the number of child care workers, and a reduction in the employment of mothers with young kids.” The report challenged the administration’s claim that mass deportations would benefit U.S.-born workers. Instead, both foreign-born and U.S.-born workers suffered, with the loss of skilled child care providers making it harder for mothers—especially highly educated, white, non-Hispanic mothers—to remain in the workforce.
Herbst explained that aggressive enforcement creates “chilling effects,” a climate of fear and confusion that causes people to withdraw from daily life, including work and school. These effects were particularly acute in states with smaller immigrant communities, where ICE arrests surged. “It seems to me that immigration policies that are as aggressive as they have been are intended to make people feel alone, isolated, and fearful,” Herbst said. The consequences ripple through the economy, undermining child care quality and mothers’ employment opportunities.
Individual stories continue to make headlines. On December 8, 2025, Bruna Ferreira, the mother of White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt’s nephew, was released from federal custody after an immigration judge in Louisiana set her bond at $1,500, according to Scripps News. Ferreira, who came to the U.S. from Brazil at age six and was pursuing a green card, had been arrested while taking her son to school. The Department of Homeland Security described her as a “criminal illegal alien,” citing an alleged assault and battery charge. Yet her attorney argued in court that no such charge existed, and government attorneys did not dispute this. Ferreira must continue checking in with ICE as her case proceeds and plans to keep seeking permanent residency, while disputing official accounts of her case and her contact with Leavitt.
Back in Chicago, the community’s response has been one of resilience and solidarity. Engagement with the ACLU soared during the crackdown, with more volunteers and young people stepping forward. The No Kings Day rally on October 18 saw Latin students, including sophomore Cecily Daly, join the protests. “It felt really special to be able to participate in such a humongous and special event that, even though it should, doesn’t happen very often,” Daly reflected.
Despite the turmoil, Block remains hopeful. “We are a vibrant, cosmopolitan, diverse city of proud neighborhoods, and that is what gives me hope,” she said. “There’s nobody coming to save Chicago, except us.” As the nation grapples with the far-reaching effects of immigration enforcement, stories from Chicago, Louisiana, and beyond serve as a reminder of the human stakes—and the power of communities to stand up for their values.
