Lately when I scroll through my feed, I keep seeing stories about immigration raids, deportations and people being detained at airports or on highways. It's happening in Texas, Florida, California and pretty much everywhere in between.
Even though Portland feels far from the southern border, the issue doesn’t feel far away at all.
For many of us on campus like myself, immigration isn’t an abstract headline. It's family, friends and futures. I think about how growing up, I’d translate for my parents at doctor’s appointments, fast food restaurants or even the bank and for my best friend’s tía who works two jobs while waiting for her green card.
Since I’m so far from my family, I can’t physically be there for them, but I check the news every morning to see if policies have shifted. That constant anxiety doesn’t stop at any state line.
ICE and the bigger picture
U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is the federal agency tasked with enforcing immigration laws inside the country. According to ICE’s own 2023 annual report, it made 142,580 removals and 62,545 Title 42 expulsions last year.
The Cato Institute found that 65% of people ICE detained had no criminal conviction, and 93% had never been convicted of a violent offense. CBS News also reported that more than half of those held in ICE detention had no criminal record at all.
Those numbers tell a story: Enforcement isn’t only targeting people accused of serious crimes; but instead, it’s sweeping up families, workers and students whose main “offense” is an immigration status issue.
Recently, a friend of mine had to convince one of their friends at a traffic stop that it was just a DUI check, not legal status checking, so they wouldn't have fear of driving through.
A simple traffic check shouldn’t transform into a spiral of life changing events.
Watching from a Texan perspective
You don’t have to live near a border to feel the ripple effects. Oregon and Washington have both seen an increase in arrests and removals in the past two years, even as the share of people with criminal records have dropped (Oregon Public Broadcasting “OPB” reported this in July).
That’s why immigration enforcement is not just a “border issue,” but a community issue. Hearing and seeing the stories of families and children being separated and living in fear stays with me more than the statistics of border crossings.
It’s not just about a political debate, but it’s about dignity, compassion and protecting kids from trauma. We need to understand that enforcement is not just a policy misstep but actually an abuse of power. When immigration crackdowns happen hundreds of miles away, they still change how our families travel, work and plan for the future.
What my friends say
When I talk to classmates who are directly affected, the stories repeat: parents afraid to drive to a different city because they heard about a checkpoint, siblings hesitating to apply for internships because of background checks, families skipping important appointments out of fear. One friend told me she feels like she’s “living in a constant waiting room,” waiting for the next policy change, the next election, the next phone call.
Even students who are citizens feel the impact. We pick up more jobs to help cover legal fees for relatives. We stress over what might happen if a parent or sibling gets detained. For myself and those dear to me, it’s a worry that looms in the background of everything, from studying for exams to planning spring break.
Why this matters at UP
The University of Portland calls itself a community of teaching and learning, “centered on the development of the whole person.” Our mission statement talks about social justice, compassion and standing with the marginalized.
President Kelly’s recent messages about immigration have echoed those values, saying that policies should respect human dignity and due process.
For me, those aren’t just words, but a call to remember that immigration enforcement affects real people, people we walk past everyday, and that our faith and values ask us to see their humanity first.
Enforcement vs. society
A lot of people frame immigration debates as “laws versus compassion,” as if the two can’t coexist. Following the law doesn’t have to mean treating people like numbers.
It’s one thing to remove someone who’s a real danger after a fair process. It’s another to sweep up parents, workers or students whose only violation is paperwork. When enforcement gets that broad and impersonal, it stops feeling like justice and starts feeling like punishment for existing.
If we want safer communities and real respect for the rule of law, we have to build an immigration system that upholds dignity as well as order.
What we can do from here
Even if we’re not lawmakers, we’re not powerless. Students and universities can still take meaningful steps to support humane immigration practices, challenging the idea that ICE’s presence is ordinary.
1. Educate ourselves
Take the time to read credible sources on immigration policy. The Cato Institute, CBSNews, Portland Immigration Right Coalition (PIRC) and OPB all have reporting without paywalls. Understanding who’s actually being detained helps cut through myths.
2. Support local groups
Organizations like the Oregon Justice Resource Center, Catholic Charities of Oregonand Immigration Counseling Service provide legal aid, mental-health support and advocacy. Student groups can partner with them for volunteer opportunities or fundraisers, like the MEChA club.
3. Share stories
If you’re comfortable and it’s safe, talk about how immigration enforcement affects you or people you know. Personal stories humanize the issue in a way statistics can’t.
4. Advocate for change
Universities can sign national statements urging Congress and the Department of Homeland Security to limit immigration enforcement in sensitive locations and to provide a clearer path to legal status for long-term residents and students.
5. Offer practical support
Scholarships, emergency funds and mental-health services for students with undocumented family members can ease some of the pressure.
Why speaking up matters
It’s tempting to think "Well, this isn’t my problem,” but silence is part of how fear spreads. When only the people directly affected speak out, they’re left isolated.
When the rest of us join in, the conversation shifts from “their issue” to “our community’s issue.”
I’ve seen what happens when students support each other, whether it’s food insecurity, mental health or tuition hikes. Immigration enforcement deserves that same solidarity.
Especially as Latinos, some of us are not used to asking for help or even considering our mental health, but we do love our daily news and getting inspiration from others, so even small moments of honesty feel like empathy and encouragement for us.
Looking ahead
We don’t know what immigration policy will look like a year from now. Hey, we don't even know what it's going to look like by the end of this year. Elections and court cases change things.
But we do know that families and students are living in uncertainty right now. We do know that compassion, education and advocacy make a difference.
What’s happening around the country shapes how our friends and classmates live. The least we can do is acknowledge it, learn about it and stand with them.
That’s not politics, that’s just being a decent human being.
Jazmine Perez is a freshman at the University of Portland. She can be reached at perezja29@up.edu.
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