On a sunny Friday in early October 2025, chaos erupted outside Funston Elementary School and the Luna y Cielo Play Cafe in Chicago’s Logan Square neighborhood. Federal immigration agents, masked and armed, threw tear gas canisters onto a busy street just as children played nearby and parents went about their day. The incident, part of the Trump administration’s “Operation Midway Blitz,” left a lasting mark on the city’s families, teachers, and children—one that, weeks later, still hasn’t faded.
According to reporting by the Associated Press, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) said its Border Patrol agents were “impeded by protesters” during a targeted enforcement operation that led to the arrest of one man. But for those on the ground, the fear and confusion were overwhelming. Videos captured the agents in an unmarked SUV, tailed by honking cars warning neighbors of the immigration raid. When a scooter tried to block the SUV, a masked man inside rolled down the window and hurled tear gas canisters onto the street—one landing just feet from fifth-grade teacher Liza Oliva-Perez.
“I couldn’t fathom that was happening,” Oliva-Perez told the AP. She had been given a whistle earlier that day by a colleague, instructed to blow it if immigration agents were nearby. But as she fumbled with it, the tear gas was already in the air. She sprinted toward the school, frantically warning staff to get the children inside.
Inside the Luna y Cielo Play Cafe, toddlers sat in the window as their nannies and caregivers scrambled to move them to safety. Vanessa Aguirre-Ávalos, the cafe’s owner, ran outside to see what was happening. Even though she and the nannies were all U.S. citizens or legally allowed to work in the country, panic set in. One nanny pleaded with Aguirre-Ávalos: if she was taken, please make sure the children got home safe.
For many families, the trauma was immediate and enduring. Molly Kucich, the mother of two young boys at the cafe, raced from a grocery store after hearing about the raid and the tear gas. Her two-year-old, terrified, clung to her repeating “Mommy, mommy, mommy,” and began stuttering. Since then, he’s been anxious, especially about his Guatemalan-American nanny, and jumps at the sound of sirens. Kucich sought therapy for him, worried about the long-term effects.
Children’s fears have become woven into their daily lives. Andrea Soria, whose six-year-old daughter plays at Luna y Cielo, overheard her whispering to her dolls: “We have to be good or ICE will get us.” Aguirre-Ávalos summed up the community’s pain: “These kids are traumatized. Even if ICE stops doing what they’re doing right now, people are going to be traumatized. The damage is already done.”
Teachers at Funston Elementary tried to reassure students that afternoon, but as dismissal approached, anxiety grew. Would masked men or more tear gas await them? First-grade teacher Maria Heavener called for help in community group chats, and when the final bell rang, neighbors—many who’d never considered themselves activists—lined the sidewalks, determined to protect the children from further harm. “You don’t mess with the kids. You don’t go near the schools,” Heavener said. “Whatever your agenda is, that feels like it’s crossing a lot of lines.”
The trauma extended beyond the immediate victims. Evelyn Medina, who owns a gift shop next door to the school, watched as two little boys gripped each other tightly, terrified as they left school. “They were so scared,” she recalled, her voice breaking. “It was really hard to see, imagining what’s going on in their little minds.”
As the operation continued, the city’s anxiety only deepened. Masked, armed agents in unmarked trucks patrolled neighborhoods, and the DHS insisted its officers were facing unprecedented assaults—sniper attacks, cars used as weapons, and rioters. “This violence against law enforcement must END. We will not be deterred by rioters and protesters in keeping America safe,” the agency said in a statement.
But the use of force, especially tear gas, quickly became a flashpoint in federal court. On October 28, 2025, U.S. Border Patrol chief Gregory Bovino, the public face of Operation Midway Blitz, appeared before U.S. District Judge Sara Ellis at the Dirksen Federal Courthouse in downtown Chicago. Judge Ellis, as reported by The New York Times and Politico, admonished Bovino for his agency’s repeated use of tear gas, especially in residential neighborhoods and near children.
Judge Ellis cited violations of a temporary restraining order she had issued on October 9, limiting the use of tear gas by federal agents. The order required agents to give two warnings before deploying chemical agents and barred them from deploying tear gas above the heads of crowds except in very specific circumstances. Despite this, agents continued to use tear gas late into October, often without warning.
“These kids, you can imagine, their sense of safety was shattered on Saturday,” Judge Ellis told Bovino, referencing an incident in Old Irving Park just before a Halloween parade. “And it’s going to take a long time for that to come back, if ever.” She also confronted Bovino about his own actions after video surfaced showing him lobbing a tear gas canister into a group of angry residents in Little Village. Bovino acknowledged the incident and promised to wear a body-worn camera by the end of the week, admitting he hadn’t been using one previously.
In the tense hearing, Ellis made clear that her role wasn’t to block enforcement of immigration laws, but to ensure that any enforcement respected legal and constitutional limits. “They don’t have to like what you’re doing. And that’s OK. That’s what democracy is,” she said, referring to protesters. “But they can’t get teargassed for it.”
Ellis ordered Bovino to appear in court every weekday to personally report on arrests and incidents, a move designed to keep a close watch on federal tactics. She also demanded use-of-force reports and all body-worn camera footage from agents since September 2. “The camera is your friend,” she told Bovino, pressing for transparency and accountability.
The federal government, for its part, defended the actions of its agents. DHS stated that tear gas was used only after agents were “swarmed by agitators” who obstructed law enforcement and ignored multiple warnings to disperse. The agency described incidents in which protesters tried to deflate a vehicle’s tire and threw objects at agents. Videos from the scene showed some residents pushing back physically, and in one case, a woman shattered a Border Patrol vehicle’s window as agents drove away.
Operation Midway Blitz has resulted in at least 3,000 arrests since it began in early September, according to administration figures. President Trump has threatened to send more federal resources, including the National Guard, to Chicago and other cities he claims are plagued by crime. While some National Guard members have been sent to Illinois, they have not yet been deployed to the streets.
Outside the courthouse, protesters held signs reading “Stop ICE Brutality” and “Judge Sara Ellis is a Boss,” while inside, the hearing underscored the deep divisions and anxieties gripping Chicago. Public outcry and legal challenges continue, as residents, teachers, and parents grapple with the fallout of aggressive immigration enforcement in their neighborhoods.
For the children of Logan Square and beyond, the events of October 2025 have left an indelible mark—one that neither court orders nor policy changes can easily erase.
