I have a story to tell. It is not mine — but in today’s America, the protagonist cannot speak her own story. The risks are too great.

The story belongs to a young American woman, a college graduate who dreams of becoming an attorney. She is smart, hardworking, determined, compassionate. Yet she has shelved her dreams — for now.

She lives with her parents and younger siblings in Chicago. Her mother no longer leaves the house because of fears of deportation. Her father leaves each day for a twelve-hour shift as a driver, a job he has had for years. Every day, the family worries he will not come back.

Her parents are immigrants from — let’s say from Pakistan, although it might be Venezuela or Ethiopia, or anywhere where people who are not white love their children enough to make great sacrifices so those children can have better lives.

It does not matter that her parents came to America legally and have, for years, sought permanent status. What matters now is the “not white” part, because the U.S. Supreme Court said that looking “foreign” was sufficient cause to be stopped by ICE. This family came her legally, they played by the rules, and now we’ve changed the rules. Until now, they’ve been told to be hopeful about their pending case for more permanent status. But now, this woman wonders, what will happen if they show up in court?

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