“ICE came to our school,” my son said. “Did you know they killed people?”
A 6-year-old should not have to handle such fears and emotions, so I changed the subject — not to avoid the painful subject, but to lovingly protect him from it, for now.
But it’s clear what’s happening. The recent intense surge in immigration enforcement in Minnesota has created fear in him and many other children, especially those in immigrant communities. And fear harms children, undermining their ability to learn, as well as their physical and mental health.
Many parents in Minnesota’s Somali community have experienced similar moments with their children in the past few weeks as they try to explain ugly comments by national leaders, including the president of the United States, or ICE actions that treat immigrants, even those who are now citizens, not as neighbors and contributors, but as threats and burdens.
Fearmongering and hate have consequences beyond politics. They shape identities, influence how communities are treated, endanger their safety and test the very moral fabric of our society.
And for some mothers and fathers, such moments trigger memories of the civil wars in Somalia and their displacement from their troubled home country to America, bringing back the trauma they have struggled to overcome.
Sudi Muhamed, a mother and author of the book “Fighting for Tomorrow,” said, “I fled from Somalia’s civil war, seeking safety for myself and for my children. But fear has returned in Minnesota, triggered by ICE’s immigration crackdown. I carry my passport and worry about being stopped.
“My children notice my stress, and it’s changing them,” she said. “This isn’t just about policy — it’s about the human impact of fear.”
The ugly, dehumanizing rhetoric did not come from nowhere. It is a strategy used to shift blame, to distract and to avoid accountability. When President Donald Trump called Somali Americans “garbage” and “a problem,” his words did not remain confined to official speeches or TV appearances — they entered our children’s ears.
Such rhetoric does not propose policies; it promotes racism and dangerous scapegoating. Instead of addressing the real issues that Americans are most concerned about — fatal shootings in the streets of Minneapolis by federal agents, affordability, or health care insecurity — they instill fear and hate.
Some argue that the targeting of Somalis by Trump and other national leaders is justified by the fraud situation in Minnesota. Fraud has been a problem in Minnesota, leading to recent criminal convictions of some Somali immigrants — a few individuals among a population of more than 80,000 Somali Minnesotans, some of whom were victims of the fraud — and it is important to demand accountability, but accountability belongs to individuals, not entire communities. Holding all Somali Minnesotans collectively responsible for the actions of just a few is wrong — and racist.
This kind of “leadership” does not unite the United States of America; rather, it divides us along ethnic lines. The hateful rhetoric is aimed not only at Somali communities; it is also aimed toward the president’s and vice president’s political base.
When leaders shift the spotlight to an external “enemy,” they redirect their own frustration. The message becomes, “Don’t look at us — look at them.” Polarization and scapegoating may distract people, but they do not provide public safety, lower medical bills or address the rising cost of living.
Thankfully, Minnesotans have stepped up for our communities and showed deep care. Renee Good and Alex Pretti, both fatally shot by ICE agents in January, sacrificed their lives for us, and we are grateful.
Somali immigrants are not strangers to adversity. They have endured conflict, refugee camps and the challenges of adjusting to new countries. They have cultivated resilience, adaptability and quiet strength.
This moment will be no exception — Somalis will move through it.
“Because we, the Somalis, are the knowers of conflict,” Boyah J. Farah, the author of “America Made Me a Black Man,” said. “We try our best to avoid conflict — we want what is best for America and the American people.”
Fear and hate narratives harm more than reputations; they erode trust in institutions, damage the mental health of individuals and families, and distract us from the most important issues. We cannot afford to let ourselves become so focused on responding emotionally that we lose sight of important things in our lives.
“They [national leaders] want to scare us, silence us, and prevent us from voting,” said Imam Yusuf Abdulle, a Twin Cities community leader. “When you accept the fear narrative, you lose balance.”
What we pass on to our children will shape their future. Fear and hate may feel like short-term protection, but they damage young minds and hearts. Our children deserve a world where justice and freedom prevail, and where sirens, fear and hate do not dominate the headlines.
