Uncertainty and fear. In recent conversations with educators across Michigan, I keep hearing those words that lead to a common refrain: “I’m trying to keep it together for my students.”

What’s happening with immigration enforcement in Michigan and across the country is causing trauma for many of our students and communities – and our educators are feeling its weight.

This has the same unsettled feeling as the early days of the pandemic, when we were trying to separate fact from rumor while still showing up for children. But now, instead of an unknown virus, it’s the possibility of immigration enforcement happening in public spaces where children can see and experience it – near bus stops, in neighborhoods, and around places that are supposed to feel ordinary and safe.

When a child watches a loved one taken away, it doesn’t stay contained to that family. It ripples through classrooms, hallways, playgrounds, and entire communities. Kids talk. Videos circulate. The same frightening moments get replayed again and again on social media. And anxiety spreads.

While our focus remains on our students, educators must navigate our own emotional reactions too. Many teachers and support staff are absorbing students’ fear all day, then going home with the images, the questions, and the “what ifs” still running in their minds.

I’ve had educators tell me they’ve woken up in the middle of the night replaying what a student shared, or worrying about a child who is suddenly pulling away from classmates, stopping eating, or panicking at dismissal time. Our teachers and school support staff are doing their best to be steady, even when they feel shaken themselves.

The traits that make educators extraordinary also make them vulnerable to internalizing students’ pain. They didn’t choose this profession for easy days; they chose it because they care about young people and believe school can be a steady, safe place – even when the world outside feels anything but. Especially at times like these, educator’s patience, persistence, creativity, and empathy are critical tools help students regulate, learn, and feel a sense of belonging.

Regardless of political party, there’s shared belief that public safety and enforcing the law matters, and that individuals who commit serious crimes should be held accountable. Both Republican and Democratic administrations have enforced our immigration laws. But what many are struggling with right now is how this is being experienced by children – and that they are becoming collateral damage.

That’s why MEA and other Michigan education organizations are urging leaders at every level to reduce harm and trauma for students. We must end enforcement activity in and around schools, bus stops, and other places where children gather – and deescalate violence in our communities. Districts need clear procedures on how to respond to immigration enforcement, so no educator is left guessing in high-stress moments. Together, we can communicate calmly, reinforce routines, and connect families to the support they need.

The stakes are high because consequences are lasting. When children suddenly lose a parent from their home – especially without an explanation they can understand – it understandably shakes their foundation of safety. In school, that translates to students’ fearful tears, angry outbursts, or distracted withdrawal.

Children deserve protection from trauma, and schools must remain places where kids feel safe in order to learn. Educators deserve support too – because asking adults to be everyone’s calm in the storm without acknowledging their own stress isn’t sustainable.

This moment is reinforcing that fear spreads fast. But so can steadiness, compassion, and community. Our children – and the educators who show up for them every day – need all three right now.