One Year Later: Choosing Agency in Uncertain Times

Anniversaries of tragedies are difficult.They invite us to revisit moments we would rather forget and force us to reckon with the ways our lives have changed since. One year ago, our community experienced one of those moments.

Reflecting on a Year of Change

As immigration enforcement unfolded at a local processing plant, panic spread quickly throughout our neighborhoods. Families wondered whether loved ones would return home. Long-time community members were detained, labeled as criminals, and transferred hours away from the communities they had helped build.

The scope of family disruption was immense.

Yet today, as I reflect on the one-year anniversary, I find myself focusing on something different.

I find myself focusing on the fact that our community feels stable enough to continue.

The events of a year ago exposed a reality that many Nebraskans had not fully seen: the precariousness of life for many low-wage workers and immigrant families. A single enforcement action disrupted households, workplaces, schools, and entire support networks. Young people missed milestones. Fear became part of our everyday life.

• Fear of driving to work.

• Fear of going to the doctor.

• Fear of attending community events.

• Fear of answering the phone.

For immigrant communities, immigration enforcement is not simply about laws being enforced. It is often experienced as uncertainty, family separation, and the constant possibility that life can change overnight.

At the same time, the past year has brought wave after wave of policy changes. Questions about who qualifies for bond, how immigration cases are adjudicated, what discretion officers have when making decisions on applications, and whether students with certain immigration statuses will be able to access resident tuition have created confusion and instability for thousands of families in Nebraska.

These changes affect people with temporary protections, people with pending applications, people considering changing status, and mixed-status families. The message many immigrants receive is that their place in the community is conditional, uncertain, and subject to change.

Underlying many of these policies is something deeper: the criminalization of immigrants in the United States.

Labels matter.

When we label people as criminals without understanding their stories, their contributions, or the complexity of immigration law, we make it easier to ignore the human consequences of our policies. We create distance between "us" and "them." We reinforce xenophobia, the fear of the foreign-born, and normalize the idea that some of our neighbors deserve less dignity, less opportunity, and less belonging.

But that is not the story I want to tell today.

This is Our Story and We Influence What Happens Next

The story I want to tell is about creativity, courage, and persistence.

It is about families who have continued to lead through uncertainty.

It is about parents who created Family Safety Plans to ensure their children would be cared for no matter what happened.

It is about young people who continued showing up to school despite fear and anxiety.

It is about workers who continued providing for their families while navigating systems that often seem designed to overwhelm them.

It is about community members who chose preparation over panic.

One of the lessons I have learned over the past year is that while we cannot always control what happens to us, we can influence what happens next.

Oppressive systems often seek to strip people of their sense of agency. They encourage feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. They make us believe that we are merely subjects of decisions made by others.

Yet every time a family creates a safety plan, every time a young person chooses to pursue their education, every time a community member helps a neighbor navigate a difficult situation, they are reclaiming agency.

They are moving from "things happen to me" to "I can influence what happens next."

That shift matters.

It does not erase the harm. It does not excuse unjust policies. It does not remove the responsibility to advocate for fair and humane immigration laws.

But it does remind us that even in difficult circumstances, we retain the power to make choices, build community, and care for one another.

Power in Hope

One year later, I remain concerned about the direction of immigration policy and the growing attacks on immigrant communities across our country.

But I am also hopeful.

Because I have witnessed families find moments of joy in hard times.

I have seen neighbors support one another through uncertainty.

I have watched young people step into leadership.

And I have seen a community refuse to let fear define who we are.

For the past several months our team has been on the front lines helping families affected by ICE raids navigate fear, separation, and hardship. Your generosity allows us to continue offering hope through support, resources, and a helping hand when it's needed most. Please donate today and help us keep showing up for our neighbors.

The anniversary of a tragedy will always be difficult.

But today, I choose to focus on the resilience, leadership, and determination that emerged in its aftermath.

I choose to focus on what remains possible.

And I choose to believe that together, we can continue building a Nebraska where every family belongs.

In solidarity,