The Faces of Those Scared Kids Will Stay With Me Forever
Fear spreads fast, but so does solidarity.
Yesterday, I got an alert that my son’s school was on lockdown because ICE agents were reportedly nearby. I rushed over—like any parent would—not because I was scared for my own kid (he was sick and home yesterday), but because I wanted to be physically present. I wanted families who were in danger to know someone had their back. I wanted to be useful.
When I got there, nothing was happening at that school. But one of my elected officials told me they needed someone at a different school—the one where I serve on the council. I volunteered and drove over. When I arrived, the kids were still out on the playground, eating lunch and enjoying their afternoon. Just as I parked, the school administrators made the call to end recess early —to get the kids inside, keep them safe. There were multiple reports of ICE agents driving around, harassing people. They didn’t want the kids to see or get caught up in that.
As I walked up, what stuck with me most were the faces of the older kids—fifth, sixth, seventh graders—who knew something was wrong. You could see it. They didn’t feel safe. And honestly, those faces are going to haunt me for a long time. Because one of the few places a kid should always feel safe is at school.
That’s part of why school shootings tear at this country’s moral fabric—we’ve refused to do what it takes to keep kids safe in the one place they have to be. Where they’re supposed to learn, build connection, and grow into the brilliant human beings they’re capable of becoming. That foundation starts in schools, just as much as at home.
And these kids? Some of them were so scared that when I walked up—a large white guy in a vest driving an SUV—they thought I might be with ICE. That’s the level of fear we’re talking about. Luckily, the teachers knew me and were able to reassure them. But that shouldn’t even be a thing.
Like I’ve written before, these are some of the worst emotions, the worst fears, the hardest moments—ones that show the worst of what humanity is capable of. But they also show the best.
Because the best part was: I wasn’t the only one who showed up.
Another guy from the neighborhood I’d never met—who doesn’t even have kids at the school—came and stood with me for about 30 minutes. I can’t say for sure, but I think we might have scared off an ICE vehicle that was circling. You never know.
And part of the problem right now in Chicago is the rumors, the false reports, the chaos. And that chaos is being driven from the top—from the White House to Homeland Security to ICE—and it’s filtering all the way down. It’s infecting every part of the city, creating this anxiety for just about everybody.
I stayed out there for two and a half, maybe three hours. By pickup time, I had to go. But what started with just me and that one guy turned into a group of 20, maybe 25 people. Folks who heard what was happening—some worried about their kids, some just community members. But all of them willing to stand outside, put their bodies on the line to make sure those families and kids felt safe, just in case ICE came back.
And yeah, maybe you’re reading this thinking, “ICE can’t go to public schools.” And technically, you’re right.
But they are. Or they’re trying. And if they thought they could get away with it, they would absolutely go inside.
I know that because there’s a video going around—maybe you’ve seen it—of a woman being dragged out of her car in a school pickup line by ICE. It’s one of the scarier things I’ve watched this week. And that woman? She was a legal resident. Didn’t matter to them. That’s how they treated her. Because ICE is targeting people indiscriminately, based on skin color.
That is not justice. That’s racial profiling. And it’s fucking disgusting.
So as I’ve reflected this week on how to be useful, I think I’ve found my lane. I’m going to do whatever I can to secure these schools and support the others in my neighorhood that are being targeted.
I’m talking to elected officials about hosting a large Know Your Rights event, so families are informed and empowered. We’re talking about printing out cards people can carry and hand out—something tangible, something simple so they know their rights. We’re working on systems to rapidly communicate ICE activity, and rally support where it’s needed most.
We’re figuring out how to ease the fear—how to make sure parents don’t feel like they have to drop their kids off three blocks away, or that they can’t even go to the grocery store. We’re talking about food drop-offs, check-ins, just showing up.
This is what I mean when I talk about a million acts of resistance.
Because this story isn’t about me. I was just one guy who showed up. The beauty is: I wasn’t alone. The community showed up.
And from what I’ve heard, it wasn’t just this school. It happened at others, too. Rumors of ICE circling led to parents and neighbors showing up in force—to stand guard, to make it known that these families aren’t alone. That we see them. That we’ll do everything we can to protect them.
Because legal status? That’s a piece of paper. And frankly, I don’t give a damn about the paper.
I want secure borders. I want violent criminals out. But I also want a real path to citizenship for the people already here—people who are part of our communities, who work hard, who deserve to live without fear of harassment from their own government.
And the kids? Many of them don’t know any other home than this one. They sure as hell don’t deserve the trauma and fear being inflicted on them by Trump and ICE.
It’s a scary moment in this country. And I don’t know exactly where we go from here. I honestly think it’s going to get worse before we see the sun again.
But we will see it again.
We’re going to turn the page on this dark chapter in American history. We’re going to make damn sure it never happens again. And we’re going to hold the people responsible for this mess accountable—for what they’ve done to this country, these families, these kids.
And Chicago—the city I love—will not back down.
We will organize peacefully. We will protect our neighbors. And our spirits will not be broken by the size of the task ahead.
So go find your small act of resistance today.
And hey—it’s Saturday. It’s okay if that act includes watching your favorite college football team win. I know I’ll be doing that. Recharging.
Make sure you do that too. We need you out there.
And hopefully, I’ll see some of you at the No King’s Rally on October 18th.
I hear it’s gonna be a big one.
Give ’em hell.
Heartbreaking and I’m impressed to no end by you rushing to the school or wherever you were needed. The little ones have to be protected from this shameful and senseless act of cruel behaviour.
✊🏽❤️🇨🇦
Stephen Miller, Trump sponsored Terrorism............