Behind every video showing ICE agents raiding a business or conducting a street sweep lies a common assumption that many Americans, including myself until recently, believe to be true: not me, not my family. However, for many black and brown people, Operation Midway Blitz, more commonly referred to as the Chicago ICE raids, was a blunt reminder that discrimination sees only two categories: white, and non-white. Entire neighborhoods were flooded with agents carrying out military-style, heavy-handed tactics, breaking down doors, using flash-bang grenades, and detaining dozens of people, including children, in the middle of the night. There was no in between, no passes for hyphenated American identities, and no mercy reserved for those labeled as others.

A combination of laws has made life in America dangerous for all, both citizens and non-citizens. ICE can legally deport immigrants without lawful status and those with legal status if they have certain convictions, even as small as misdemeanors from years ago. Officers are told to prioritize people they claim threaten “national security” , or who entered the U.S. unlawfully after November 1, 2020. However, because ICE relies on everything from accents to incomplete records, even U.S. citizens and lawful residents are at risk. The Supreme Court’s Vasquez Perdomo v. Noem ruling furthered this by giving ICE a “green light” to stop and question people based on appearance, language, or occupation, allowing for broad discretion that emboldens raids and puts entire communities at risk.

If you’re detained, you’re lucky if the interaction ends with you face down on the street. For others, what follows is horrific. Forget due process, even U.S. citizens can be held for days without charges, and many detainees wait months for court hearings, often with little access to phones or lawyers. Inside these facilities, overcrowded cells and the awareness of being treated as a number rather than a person makes every day dehumanizing. One tragic example is the case of a young man held in solitary confinement despite a documented history of mental illness. Jeancarlo “Jean” Jimenez spent weeks isolated at the Stewart Detention Center in Georgia and ultimately died by suicide, tying one end of a white bed sheet in his cell around a sprinkler head and the other end around his neck (Shoicet, 2025).

Possibly more telling than the conditions themself, currently the U.S. government does not track how many citizens are held by immigration agents, a statistic necessary to evaluate the effectiveness of ICE procedures. Despite this, a report from ProPublica states they found more than 170 cases of citizens being detained or arrested at raids and protests, which is “almost certainly an undercount” (Florido, 2025). Among the cases detained were nearly 20 children, and an Army veteran who was pulled out of his car by federal agents. (Foy, 2025).

As we sit behind screens and scroll past headlines, privilege can blind us to vulnerability; ICE’s reach reminds us that anyone, citizen or not, can be targeted, and assuming otherwise is a dangerous illusion.