Today’s post is the latest in a series in which teachers share how the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown has affected them, their students, and their students’ families.
The first posts in this series highlighted commentaries from Chicago teachers.
Today’s post is focused on North Carolina.
‘We Showed Up’
Amber Geckeler serves the community known as East Charlotte in North Carolina as an educator, resident, and parent:
In November 2025, our world was turned upside down when federal immigration agents descended upon our beautiful community. On that first day, my classroom, normally bustling with 26 students, had only four present. The hallways fell silent; classrooms sat half-empty or, in some cases, nearly vacant.
I looked across my room at those empty desks and immediately began to cry, knowing these seats should have been filled with eager learners. The halls should have echoed with the joyful noise of childhood, but instead, an eerie quiet had settled over our school.
ICE became a regular presence in our community, with unmarked vehicles appearing in areas where Hispanic families lived and worked. The proximity to our school was particularly concerning. One incident occurred less than a mile away, where construction workers were detained. The swift nature of these operations in school-adjacent neighborhoods created significant community anxiety. My phone buzzed continuously with community alerts tracking enforcement activities, often reporting sightings within blocks of our school and surrounding schools.
With over 60% of our student body and families being Hispanic, our school community felt the profound impact of enforcement activities. Both immigrant families and those who shared similar cultural backgrounds experienced heightened anxiety. This fear translated directly into educational disruption. Families stayed indoors, students missed school, and normal childhood activities ceased as safety concerns overshadowed daily routines
Here is what I witnessed that fills me with pride: In our darkest moment, we came together. When I felt helpless, I transformed that helplessness into determination to support my community in every way possible. Without hesitation, we mobilized. We organized community watch groups, compiled lists of families needing food and supplies, and gathered in churches and homes to pray together. We purchased whistles, safety vests, and “Know Your Rights” cards.
Most importantly, we showed up, not just with material support but with love, solidarity, and unwavering care for one another. Our community demonstrated remarkable solidarity through coordinated relief efforts, including donating food, establishing monitoring stations, and providing transportation for students to school. When emergencies arose, our advocate group responded immediately, even transporting families to the hospital without hesitation.
The most inspiring aspect was witnessing East Charlotte’s diverse community unite in peaceful demonstration. People from all backgrounds stood together, holding signs, raising their voices, and filling the sidewalks with a unified message of support and solidarity.
Those two weeks were the most challenging of my 12-year teaching career. I cried countless times in my nearly empty classroom, thinking about my students, their families, and the fear that had been imposed on their lives. Yet, one truth remained crystal clear: I am proud to be part of the East Charlotte community because of how we responded. We showed up and showed out. Our school witnessed beautiful displays of solidarity as nonimmigrant students stood firmly with their immigrant peers.
In the week following the enforcement activities, we designated days to celebrate Hispanic culture, with students and staff wearing cultural clothing, Hispanic athlete jerseys, and items featuring cultural symbols. These actions sent a powerful message that our immigrant families are not just tolerated but truly embraced as vital community members.
My community was impacted not only by the presence of those targeting people based on appearance but also by the incredible outpouring of support and love we demonstrated for one another. While it saddens me that such circumstances were necessary to showcase our collective strength, we learned an invaluable lesson during this difficult time: We need each other.
Thank you, East Charlotte, for showing me what a true community built on diversity, love, and kindness looks like. As I continue my teaching journey, this experience will forever be engraved in my memory, a testament to the power of unity in the face of adversity.
‘Feeling Helpless’
Carolyna Padilla is a 4th year K-5 ESL teacher in Cary, N.C., and has a master’s in language and literacy:
The impact of immigration officials in our community has left us feeling helpless.
I cannot be at peace knowing my students and their families are trapped in their home. I have reached out to families who have stated they’re unable to leave to do simple tasks such as pick up medicine or go grocery shopping. One parent shared, “We can’t even get our basic necessities. We need water. We need food. We’re using a Spark driver, but we need to be able to go to the store.”
Other parents are calling our school, crying because they are scared to step outside to grab their child off the bus from the bus stop; they call us for reassurance that they are safe. Wives are calling the schools to say the father of a student has gotten detained. We answer the phones only to hear innocent families explain, “Please forgive us, we are not criminals. I know we need to send our kids to school and I know we need to work, but we are just so scared.”
As teachers, we knew we would wear several hats and support kids in many ways, but this is not what any one of us expected. How can we go about our day, teaching the standards and curriculum when students are at school worried about their parents. As I am walking down the hallways to return students to their classes, I hear “Mrs. Padilla, my brother said the police is coming to school. Is that true? He said they’re going to take us.” How can I continue to teach when my students fear they may return to an empty house or get taken at school?
Our Latinx students are holding so much on their plates, I’m not exactly sure how we are supposed to put even more on them. Students tell me, “Yeah, we don’t play outside anymore because the police are going to get us.” As teachers, we are concerned about their increase in learning gaps, but as people, we are concerned about their safety and the safety of their families.
Parents feeling they have to send messages with an emergency plan of what to do in case they get detained while their child is at school is not normal. It is not normal for that to be sent, it is not normal to be scared of that happening, and it is not normal to have me read, “Mrs. Padilla, here is a list of people who you should call in case ICE gets me. Please make sure these are the only people coming into contact with my daughter” and then continue teaching as if nothing is wrong.
Our school had planned an international night, inviting several families to share their cultures through small presentations. Due to the current presence of immigration officials, our event has to unfortunately be called. Parents hosting stations became unavailable due to the fear of leaving their houses, each family with the same reason: “We are so sorry but we are scared to leave our house. They [ICE] are right outside our apartment complex.” A night that was supposed to affirm and lift students became impossible.
Aside from this, ESL students in my district are preparing to take the WIDA ACCESS Language Proficiency exam in January. As their ESL teacher, it is my job to prepare them for this exam. With students missing a month of school, this has become nearly impossible. English proficiency comes from consistent exposure, something students are not getting at home. This continues to push back the Latinx community. My Russian, Korean, Turkish, and Afghan students have the opportunity to be fully prepared and excel on the exam. This attack on the Latinx community continues to push back the chances of success. The injustice that is occurring is affecting more than anyone realizes. The right to education is something that every person holds, regardless of color or ethnicity. Education is universal, yet this basic right is being taken away from students.
I could go on to explain the foundational skills students are missing as they are absent due to the fear, but that is self-explanatory and unimportant when looking at the bigger picture. The mental state of our students is being put at stake with no hesitation from immigration officials.
The current situation has impacted both my personal and professional lives. I was personally impacted when a friend of mine was detained during the Charlotte raids. Now, I am unable to fully complete my tasks as a teacher with the increase of student absences. Our community has been under attack since the beginning of November with no end in sight. On Dec. 1, ICE sent out additional agents to the Raleigh area for a monthlong operation. We will continue to fight for our students and protect our families.
Thank you to Amber and Carolyna for sharing their thoughts.
Consider contributing a question to be answered in a future post. You can send one to me at lferlazzo@educationweek.org. When you send it in, let me know if I can use your real name if it’s selected or if you’d prefer remaining anonymous and have a pseudonym in mind.
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