chicago — Just before noon on a sunny Friday earlier this month, federal immigration agents lobbed tear gas grenades onto a busy Chicago street, outside an elementary school and a children’s play café.
Parents, teachers and caregivers rushed to protect the children from the chaos, and they have been grappling ever since How do I explain to them? What they saw: How much needed to be told so they knew enough to stay safe, but not too much to steal their innocence.
Weeks later, families say, even those unlikely to risk arrest in immigration raids They are still terrified it will happen againdemonstrating how fear seeped into every aspect of American life when… The Trump administration’s campaign against immigration He controls a city.
The Department of Homeland Security said in a statement Border Patrol agents They were “obstructed by demonstrators” during a targeted enforcement operation in which a man was arrested.
Chicago crackdown dubbed “Operation Midway Blitz” It started in early September. Armed, masked agents in unmarked trucks patrol neighborhoods, and Residents protested In ways Big and small Against what they see Their city is under siege.
DHS wrote that its agents were being intimidated: “Our brave officers are facing a surge in assaults against them, leading to sniper attacks, weaponized vehicles, and assaults by rioters. This violence against law enforcement must end. Rioters and protesters will not deter us in keeping America safe.”
The agents arrived in an unmarked SUV About half a block from Funston Elementary School in Logan Square, a neighborhood on the city’s northwest side. Videos show that cars were following them, honking their horns to alert neighbors that this was an immigration enforcement operation. The scooter was pulled in front of the SUV to try to stop it.
The SUV’s passenger side window rolled down and a masked man inside threw tear gas canisters onto the street.
The DHS statement said agents fired tear gas and pepper balls “after repeated vocal attempts to disperse the crowd.”
Fifth-grade teacher Lisa Oliva Perez was walking to the grocery store across the street for lunch.
I noticed a hovering helicopter, then the SUV with a tail of horns.
That morning, another teacher gave her a whistle with instructions to blow it if immigration agents were near her.
As Oliva Perez fumbled to get the whistle to her lips, the window of the SUV rolled down and the masked man threw the first gas can.
“I couldn’t understand what was happening,” Oliva Perez said. Then he threw another, this time in her direction.
She said she was just feet from the sidewalk and didn’t hear the customers say anything. She then ran towards the school and shouted at the staff to get the children inside.
There were six children sitting in the window of the Luna y Cielo Play Cafe, where children are learning Spanish while playing while parents and caregivers drink coffee.
Owner Vanessa Aguirre-Avalos ran outside to see what was happening, while the children’s nannies moved them to a back room.
Aguirre-Avalos is a US citizen and the nannies are citizens or legally permitted to work in the United States. However, they were terrified. One of the nannies pleaded with Aguirre Avalos: If they take me, please make sure the children come home safe.
Molly Kocic, whose two sons, ages 2 and 14 months, were shopping at Luna y Cielo. Her husband called. I heard “immigration raid” and then “tear gas.” She ditched her grocery cart and drove as fast as she could and parked on the sidewalk outside, so excited to get to her kids that she didn’t care if her car could be towed.
The two-year-old was so frightened that he stuttered.
“Mama, mamma, mamma,” he repeated, clinging to her.
In the weeks that followed, he became fixated on his nanny, an American citizen from Guatemala. He asks where is she and when is she coming. He jumps at the sound of sirens. His mother called his pediatrician to refer him to see a therapist.
Since the incident, Andrea Soria, whose 6-year-old daughter plays at Luna y Cielo, has been heard whispering to her dolls: “We have to be good or ICE will get us,” referring to US Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
“These kids are traumatized,” Aguirre-Avalos said. “Even if ICE stopped doing what it’s doing now, people would be shocked. The damage has already been done.”
Teachers at Funston Elementary School spent the afternoon telling children that everything was fine. But they were dreading the bell at the end of the day. They had to lead the students outside, and they didn’t know what awaited them. Masked men? More tear gas?
First-grade teacher Maria Heavener spread the word in community group chats that the school needed help.
When the final bell rang, she escorted her students outside. In every direction, neighbors lined the sidewalk, dozens of them. There were people who had never considered themselves activists, or even particularly political, standing there, angry, scanning the streets for unmarked SUVs and masked men. They signed up to come back every morning and afternoon.
“Don’t mess with kids. Don’t go near schools,” Hefner said. “Whatever your agenda is, this seems to cross a lot of lines.”
Evelyn Medina stood outside her gift shop next to the school and watched the children walk by. There were two young children holding each other very tightly, their fingers digging into each other’s hands.
“They were so scared,” Medina said, crying when she thought about how they looked leaving school that day. “It was really hard to see, and imagine, what was going on in their little minds.”
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