CHICAGO (AP) — The 2-year-old boy was so frightened, he stuttered. Mommy, mommy, mommy, he repeated, clinging to her. His mother, Molly Kucich, had been grocery shopping when her husband called, panicking. She heard “immigration raid.” Then: “tear gas.”
She abandoned her grocery cart and drove as fast as she could to her toddler and his 14-month-old brother, who were among the hundreds of Chicago children caught suddenly in the turmoil of the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown.
Parents, teachers, and caregivers have been grappling with how to explain to children what they’d witnessed: how much to tell them so they know enough to stay safe, but not too much to rob them of their childhood. “I don’t know how to explain this to my kids,” Kucich said.
Children were playing on the monkey bars outside Funston Elementary School just before noon on Oct. 3 when a white SUV rolled down their street in Logan Square, a neighborhood that has been steadily gentrifying. Cars followed behind it, drivers laying on their horns to alert neighbors that these were federal agents. No mass protests happened; even some teachers initially didn’t realize what was happening.
Suddenly, tear gas canisters flew from the window of the SUV. The street exploded into pandemonium. Some people ran. Others shouted at agents to leave. Parents drove recklessly to reach their children.
Kucich’s son was a half-block away, having lunch at a local cafe where he made friends. Owner Vanessa Aguirre-Ávalos ran outside to see what was happening as the children’s nannies hustled them to safety. Despite their US citizenship, they were terrified. One nanny begged Aguirre-Ávalos to ensure the children got home safe if she was detained.
Even after the chaos, children voiced their fears. Kucich’s son, who is white, grew anxious about his nanny, fearing she would be taken. Meanwhile, Andrea Soria, whose daughter also attended, overheard her daughter whispering, “We have to be good or ICE will get us.”
“These kids are traumatized,” Aguirre-Ávalos said. “The damage is already done.”
‘I had to act like nothing was wrong’
Fifth-grade teacher Liza Oliva-Perez encountered chaos while walking to the grocery store. She noticed a helicopter circling, then the SUV and its tail of honking cars. A teacher had just given her a whistle for emergencies, but she fumbled as she witnessed a masked man throw a tear gas canister.
The Department of Homeland Security stated that agents were “impeded by protesters” during a targeted enforcement operation. This operation was dubbed “Operation Midway Blitz,” and has led to increased tensions in Chicago, where residents voice their discontent. They view the crackdown as an invasion of their community.
Oliva-Perez ran toward the school, urging staff to bring children inside, fearing for their safety. “Here I am, a U.S. citizen, a teacher, and I got treated like a common criminal,” she lamented. Fearing for their students, teachers felt the pressure of guiding them through the aftermath of this trauma.
“We had to act like nothing was wrong,” she explained, trying to maintain a calm environment when in fact, everyone was shaken.
‘Our skin color defines us’
Community leaders like Aguirre-Ávalos understand the fear children experience—having been through it themselves as immigrants. Even legal residents now live in fear, feeling targeted as federal agents patrol their neighborhoods. One mother, who requested anonymity for safety reasons, described her son's ongoing anxiety about losing family to deportation.
Every utility pole is now lined with anti-ICE stickers, and community groups gather to support one another amidst this climate of fear. Aguirre-Ávalos feels the pressure of raising children in a community that seems hostile towards them. “They don’t want us here,” she said, expressing her fears for her children's future. “We’ll always be targeted.”
This emotional turmoil has implications beyond immediate fear—affecting children's social behaviors, mental health, and community relations.
