As the school year kicks off across the United States, a sense of routine and relief settles in for many families. But for some, particularly those in mixed-status households, the return to classrooms is shadowed by anxiety and uncertainty. In rural southern Maryland, a mother who wishes to be identified only as “M.” sits in her trailer home, recounting a summer spent almost entirely indoors with her four children. The reason? Fear of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids and the consequences they could bring for her family.
M. and her husband have lived and worked in the U.S. for about 15 years. Their children, all born in the United States, are citizens. But the parents are undocumented, and that distinction has shaped every decision the family has made in recent months. According to NPR, M. describes the summer of 2025 as particularly stressful, saying, “Look,” she laughs, holding up a strand of hair with new white streaks, “these weren’t here before this summer.” As her youngest child clambers atop the washing machine and her seven-year-old parades the family cat upside down, M. admits that being cooped up indoors nearly drove her crazy.
But the alternative—risking exposure to immigration enforcement—felt too dangerous. The family canceled trips to the pool, aquarium, and local parks. Even a planned STEM summer camp for the eldest child was scrapped. The tension ratcheted up a few weeks before school started when, as reported by NPR, immigration agents appeared at M.’s husband’s landscaping job. He managed to hide and quickly sent a message home, warning his family in case he was detained. That night, M. and her husband sat their children down for a frank conversation: “You are all American citizens, but we are not. If we take you to the aquarium, or to a hotel, we could get detained, and deported.”
This reality—children with full citizenship, parents living in the shadows—has become a defining feature of life for countless families across the country. The start of a new school year brings not just the usual flurry of supplies and schedules, but also a host of difficult questions. What if ICE agents come while the kids are in class, or while M. is picking them up? Can agents enter the school? Can they question the children about their parents’ legal status?
According to Elora Mukherjee, director of the Immigrants’ Rights Clinic at Columbia Law School, the law is clear: “There are no confirmed reports of ICE raids or ICE enforcement inside of schools.” She emphasizes that ICE agents cannot enter a school without a warrant, and it is unconstitutional to deny students access to public education based on immigration status. In cities like Chicago and New York, public schools have explicit policies preventing administrators from asking about immigration status. Attempts to do otherwise, such as in Alabama, have been struck down as unconstitutional.
Yet, the fear persists—and with good reason. As Mukherjee explains to NPR, “Almost as soon as President Trump took office, in January, locations previously designated off limits—schools, churches and hospitals—were deemed fair game for immigration enforcement.” There have been numerous reports of parents being detained right outside their children’s schools. Despite public statements about targeting “the worst of the worst,” Mukherjee notes, “the numbers show that the vast majority of those detained by ICE so far are without criminal convictions. Anyone can be targeted if the officers have reasonable suspicion to believe that they may be in the country without authorization.”
This climate of uncertainty has tangible impacts on students and their education. During the 2024-2025 school year, immigration enforcement actions coincided with significant drops in school attendance. In California’s Central Valley, for instance, absenteeism spiked by 22% during ICE operations. In Chicago, teachers reported noticeable dips in attendance. Roy, a second grade teacher in the Chicago public school system, told NPR, “Last year was a hard year. We had some students that missed class on and off for a month. Fear was the biggest cause. It puts you behind. If we had more time with those kids, we would have gotten farther. We need our kids back in school.”
Communities are trying to adapt. In Chicago, where President Trump has promised further immigration enforcement, educators are considering offering online classes as a way to keep children learning and safe. Stacy Davis Gates, president of the Chicago teachers union, told NPR, “Everything is on the table. Young people get to be safe, young people get to learn. Young people get to have grown-ups like us thinking about how they stay in school.”
Support has also come from neighbors and volunteers. In Washington, D.C., as ICE and federal agent raids increased in late August 2025, community members gathered outside elementary schools, writing welcome notes and cheering children on their first day back. According to NPR, these gestures of solidarity—clapping, blowing whistles, shaking tambourines—helped create a sense of normalcy and support, even as uncertainty loomed.
For families like M.’s, however, every day remains a tightrope walk. A few days into the new school year, M. sent NPR an audio message from the bus stop. She was there to pick up her kids, but stood a block away, eyeing sheriff’s department cars parked nearby. “I froze. I grabbed the kids and ran back home,” she later recounted breathlessly. Nothing happened that time, but the fear was palpable.
Despite these anxieties, M. continues to send her children to school. After their first week back, she indulged in a long nap—something many parents can relate to. But she also took a step few others would consider: she reached out to an American citizen friend to begin the process of granting power of attorney, in case she or her husband are detained or deported. “Just in case,” she said, underscoring the ever-present uncertainty that colors every decision.
As schools across the country open their doors this fall, the experiences of families like M.’s highlight the profound intersection of immigration policy and public education. While legal protections exist—at least on paper—the day-to-day reality for many is marked by fear, difficult choices, and a constant calculation of risk. Teachers, administrators, and community members are stepping up to offer support, but the underlying anxieties remain unresolved. For now, the hope is that classrooms can be places of safety and stability, even as the world outside feels increasingly unpredictable.
