The 2025-26 school year begins this week in Los Angeles, California. As I prepare my classroom, print name tags, and plan the lessons that will launch our year, my mind is still with what we experienced last June. A fresh start does not erase the fear, pain, and uncertainty my students and I carried into the summer. As much as I want to fill the first week of school with joy, I know we are entering a year shaped by questions we cannot yet answer. For educators who believe in centering students’ realities, this means holding two truths at once: the hope of a new year and the memory of what our students have endured.
The last week of my first year teaching was nothing like I had imagined when I began in August 2024. Instead of closing the school year with celebration, we navigated a surge of fear after a series of immigration raids in Los Angeles. On Saturday, June 7, 2025 – U.S. President Donald Trump issued a memorandum deploying 2,000 National Guard troops to the city. I did not know it at the time, but this decision would change the tone of our final days together as a class.
That weekend, my ClassDojo inbox filled with messages from parents. Their words carried a shared urgency. They told me they were keeping their children home, avoiding public spaces, and worrying whether loved ones would return from work. The fear was no longer a distant headline. It was a lived reality in our community and in our classroom, with families directly impacted by the threat and experience of deportation.
By Monday morning, I could feel it the moment I walked into school. Students ran to greet me, but almost immediately came the questions: “Will we be deported?” “Are we safe here?” Paulo Freire (1970) warns against treating education as the transfer of information in what he calls the banking model, and instead calls for problem-posing education. That morning, the problem my students needed to address was not in our core curriculum.
Over the weekend, I had prepared a solution circle as a way to help students process their emotions, share their perspectives, and generate ideas for supporting one another. A solution circle begins with a shared discussion prompt, then invites each participant to contribute their thoughts while the group listens respectfully. I developed guiding prompts for our circle, including: What does it mean to immigrate? and Why do you think someone might leave their home country and move to a new place? We passed around our small Oski plushie, the UC Berkeley mascot, as our talking piece in the circle. Students shared stories from parents and grandparents about migrating for safety, opportunity, and work. As they listened to each other, I saw what Moll, Amanti, Neff, and González (1992) describe as funds of knowledge: the cultural and experiential resources that families carry and that can transform learning when brought into the classroom.

From there, we brainstormed ways to make new classmates feel welcome and to support friends who were afraid. We charted their ideas in bright markers, a visible reminder that even in fear, students can imagine solutions together. These students deserved to be present in a community of learners where knowledge is built collectively, and that is exactly what our classroom became in that moment.



The fear did not disappear, but we faced it together. Later that week, our end-of-year celebration felt bittersweet. Some families told me they would not attend because of the ICE presence. During my remarks, I spoke in both English and Spanish:
“I would also like to honor our students who were not able to come to school today because of the unfortunate recent events in our community. I know that our next generation of students will change the world and make it a better place where all children feel welcome and equal, no matter their race, class, gender, or immigration status.”
“También me gustaría honrar a los estudiantes que no pudieron venir a la escuela hoy por las dificultades recientes en nuestra comunidad. Yo sé que nuestra próxima generación de estudiantes cambiará el mundo en un lugar mejor, donde todos los niños se sientan bienvenidos, sin importar su raza, clase, género o estatus migratorio.”
The applause that followed was not for me but for the recognition of a truth we all shared.
One of the most powerful moments came when my class sang Remember Me from Coco, alternating between Spanish and English. It was tender and strong at the same time. Immigrant children navigate transcultural spaces, moving fluidly between languages and cultures. In that moment, their song was both connection and resistance (Orellana, 2015).
Before the year ended, I sent students home with their “Keep Families Together” coloring sheets and a list of local resources (included below), showing families that their students are valued and a part of our community. That final week, my classroom became more than a place for academic lessons. It was a space where voices were honored, knowledge was shared, and hope was kept alive.

As I begin the new year, I carry the urgency of standing with my students and their families in the face of immigration-related fear and disruption. I am inspired by our role as educators, which is not only to meet a standard or set expectations. It is to listen, to honor what students bring, and to ensure that even in times of uncertainty, they know school is a place where their stories matter.
Wesley Veiga, 4th Grade Teacher
Immigration Resources:
- Activity Book on Deportation (EN) – Healing and Resilience
- Activity Book on Deportation (ES) – Healing and Resilience
- Supporting Resilience and Social-Emotional Learning (MS) – LMU Center for Equity for English Learners
- 8 Resources for Teaching Immigration – Facing History And Ourselves
- UndocuAlly Training Activity and Readings – The Dream.US
- Rights Card (English)
- Tarjeta De Derechos (Español)
- 5 Things To Do If ICE Enters Your Car or Home (English)
- 5 Cosas Que Hacer Si ICE Intenta Ingresar a Su Casa o Vehículo (Español)
- Understanding Resources and Rights for Immigrant Populations in the U.S (compiled resources in Spanish and English)
For more information, please contact the CHIRLA Immigrant Assistance Line: (888) 624 – 4752
References
Freire, P. (1970). Chapter 2: Banking concept of education. In Pedagogy of the oppressed (pp. 71-86). 30th Anniversary Edition (2000) with an introduction by Donaldo Macedo. New York: Continuum.
Moll, L. C., Amanti, C., Neff, D., & González, N. (1992). Funds of knowledge for teaching: Using a qualitative approach to connect homes and classrooms. Theory into Practice, 31(2), 132-141.
Orellana, M. F. (2015). Immigrant children in transcultural spaces: Language, learning, and love. Routledge.
Vygotsky, L. (1978). Interaction between learning and development & The prehistory of written language. In M. Cole, V. John-Steiner, S. Scribner, & E. Souberman (Eds.), Mind in society (pp. 79-91). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
This is an incredibly moving account of immigrant families’ lived experiences of violence during the ICE raids. I am reminded again how we can (!) collectively resist institutional and authoritarian threats in the pursuit of learning that holds meaning for those in precarious situations. I would like to commend the author for exemplifying how such spaces can also be created in institutional fields, which normatively appear as exclusive for ‘core curricular’ activities only. Thank you for sharing! I will be sharing onwards with my colleagues and students in the UK!