Icy Fear

My story about immigration control officers coming for a mother and usually happy child, originally published in 2021, is sadly still relevant today

Photo by erin mckenna on Unsplash

I won’t be “walking out” with my child this freezing afternoon (as my American city is not under siege, I have the privilege to make that call.) I have chosen to resist economically, and to do the unpaid work of raising a future activist. Yet art is also resistance. So today I’m sharing my micro story about ICE agents arresting a mother and child. It was originally published in The Ocotillo Review in Austin in 2021. Sadly, it is still relevant today.

#

Disarming Laughter

As the glitter-covered construction paper hands taped to the office windowpane labor to hold out the Texas heat, Miss Faith helps Bao draw out his /s/ sound like a deflating tire. He smells like Ivory soap and tater-tots. She feels “sad” that the kindergartner hasn’t noticed her peach “scarf,” and that he keeps giggling, and making faces that look “silly,” instead of repeating her words as the picture flashcards scroll by on her tablet. Contagious, his laughter disarms, and soon both Miss Faith and his mother, Kim-Ly, chuckle.

Then two raps on the door boom through the speech therapy office, and both Kim-Ly and Miss Faith jump to their feet. Two broad-shouldered men rush in. Miss Faith doesn’t need to read the three large, yellow letters on their navy blue vests to recognize the chilling efficiency of ICE.