I pull into the parking lot of the building at the community college where I teach English to adult community members and notice a black SUV with official, yellow plates parked tail-in, in one of the parking spots. There’s a man sitting in there, head down, maybe looking at his phone. I immediately have a sense of dread, but continue inside to my classroom, maybe somewhat reassured that the man doesn’t seem to be looking with much interest at me or the students who are arriving for our 9 o’clock class.
Two days prior, to support the goal of providing English instruction that is directly applicable to the situations of daily life, I found myself teaching my students about their rights under the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Amendments. Teaching them about the difference between a judicial and an administrative warrant, should an officer come to their home. Teaching them how to repeat, “I choose to remain silent,” if they wish, and how they can show a Red Card (Tarjeta Roja) to anyone stopping them or coming to their door. Under what situations they need to show identification (like when driving) and when they are not required to do so. For this information, I relied on sources like the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and the Immigrant Legal Resource Center (ILRC), which have plenty of helpful materials and information online, to support justice and remind folks that the Constitution of our country contains rights that apply to everyone on US soil – citizens and undocumented immigrants alike. The right to due process, for instance. The right to freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures. The right to legal counsel. “Can I see your identification?” I have my students repeat, turning around a question that police or immigration officers might more often ask them. They have a right to know what agency they are dealing with.
At about 10:15, an hour and 15 minutes into our 3-hour long class, I have my students doing a team game where they compete to write as many sentences about feelings, and when they feel them, as they can. For example, “I feel frustrated when I can’t speak English well.” I have representatives from each team up at the front of the room, presenting the sentences their team came up with, and I am tallying the points from each team based on intelligibility and grammatical correctness. I feel someone slip between the captain of team three and me; it’s my supervisor. “We’re ending class now,” she says, and gives me a look that communicates much more than that: Concern. Alarm. Panic. Seriousness. Even fear. I turn to my class and tell them, my own eyes conveying the feelings and hopes that I can’t, or am not supposed to, say, “We’re ending class now. Go home.” They immediately understand, as only people of vulnerable communities do, and pack up their things quickly. We are not sure if there will be class tomorrow or not.
I do not know if any of my current students are undocumented. The majority I believe are here legally, thanks to various programs such as TPS and U4U. Many have Green Cards. They are escaping war or other serious problems in their countries. Working hard, two or three jobs, and sending money back to their families. Just generally looking for a better life. They have children here. They respect rules. They are motivated to learn and become integrated members of the community. As someone who served in the Peace Corps in three different countries, representing American values of democracy, freedom, and due process, I am appalled, ashamed, and angry about what the new administration is doing, instilling fear into entire communities of kind, hard-working people, with the twisted message of “You are dirty. You don’t belong.” If anyone doesn’t belong in this country, it is those who get ahead by bullying others rather than on their own merit. Those who lie, promote hate, ignore and undermine the laws of our country and subvert our system of checks and balances.
The other instructors and I are not sure if we will need to continue our classes online, rather than in person, out of fear of safety for our students. Due to the haphazard, menacing, and thoughtless freeze on federal funds, we do not know right now if there will even be continued funding for our program to continue at all.
Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents were once prohibited from entering safe spaces like schools and churches, but not anymore. As they try to meet their quotas, they will likely scoop up hoards of innocent people. Teachers like my colleagues and me, not to mention K-12 public school teachers and countless other well-intentioned, underpaid folks, are put in a tough position. If we try to protect students, even by withholding information rather than active intervention, it seems we could be arrested or face other legal consequences ourselves. Is this really what you voted for and support, America?
Hello Carla – thank you for the important educational work you do and the language skills you provide your students so they know their rights and can speak for themselves.
Ironic. Just yesterday I was in an Arby’s, almost leaving. Suddenly stopped and turned back. Spoke to the Latina woman working up front “ thank you for your work ! I hope you can stay!” Everyone working in that place was Hispanic and all were speaking Spanish and from what I could see back there they were bustling hard at work. I just had to say something, support someone in that moment.