It is easy to move from class to class and pretend immigration is just a word in a headline, not a reality shaping the lives of classmates around you. Talking about immigration, especially now, can cause emotions to run high. However, for many students, this is not abstract; they live with it daily. Many students grapple with the dread of a United States Immigration Customs Enforcement stop on the 110 Freeway or a call from their parents that immigration agents have detained them. 

Understanding our classmates’ realities holds weight in how we choose to talk about the very issues that define the lives of so many Trojans and people across the country. It is a privilege to be able to move past conversations about immigration without a heavy heart — to say, “I don’t do politics,” or that the conversation is too complicated. 

That is the privilege of distance, the ability to disengage from someone’s struggle because it does not directly threaten your own security. Being able to just be a student without worrying about the next immigration raid in the community is a privilege many don’t notice they hold. 

This past year alone, raids across the country have instilled widespread fear while renewed legal debates about Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals have left immigrant families uncertain of their future. These issues occur nationwide but specifically are notable in Los Angeles, with reports of increased raids occurring at South Gate, just miles north of campus. 

For some Trojans, immigration defines home and even their ability to remain enrolled at USC. They wake up to reports of immigration agents in the area, activating a survival mode that cannot be turned off. 

Choosing silence in these conversations means ignoring classmates whose realities are shaped by a system of exclusion and fear. 

In the face of these relentless raids and the fear they spread, our response cannot be avoidance or apathy. The opposite is conversation — engaging in thoughtful conversation by actively listening to learn, rather than to respond, is the first step toward fighting the injustice that persists. Listening is the beginning, not the end. 

When reading the news, we see reports of abusive detentions and the rise of in-custody deaths. As students, we have the resources to educate ourselves on the history of immigration enforcement. With that, the responsibility falls upon understanding that when systems enact violence, we must confront them. This cannot stop at outrage; it must include support for classmates who are directly affected.

Classrooms’ curricula can be part of that support. In classrooms, it is common for professors to ask students how they are feeling in regards to current events; this must be normalized to have an understanding of student well-being.

Rather than treating immigration as a “hot topic” or “current event,” educators and students can integrate them across curriculum, from economics to psychology. Professors can acknowledge when policies affect students’ lives; departments can share resources for undocumented students; student groups can expand on healing circle initiatives by the Undocumented Trojan Success Assembly due to the impact it has on individual mental health.  

We must further treat it as a lens for understanding power and policy. Professors can open class by acknowledging that the conversation may be sensitive but vital. Real learning begins not when every student speaks but reflects, and is willing to learn from their peers. 

One of the hardest parts of talking about immigrants is that it forces us to look at what kind of society we live in. The reality is that the immigration system is violent and racialized. It is sustained by laws, such as President Donald Trump’s executive orders to eliminate birthright citizenship and the Big Beautiful Bill passed by Congress to extend $45 billion to ICE, that are written to be divisive. 

It’s important to note, real conversations about immigration aren’t always comfortable, but that discomfort is a sign we’re finally confronting something real. Instead of pivoting away when the topic comes up in class or at the dinner table, lean in with openness. Ask questions, and commit to learning enough to inform responsibly. 

To acknowledge the struggle of immigrants means naming what’s often left unsaid: a system that is complicated, often unfair and deeply inhumane. Therefore, having a hard conversation doesn’t mean shouting matches, but actively listening. And if the conversation feels uneasy, that discomfort is the clearest sign that something is deeply wrong.  

Immigration is not just a headline — it is a classmate missing from a discussion section. It is a roommate waiting on a court date. It is family members deciding whether it is safe enough to go to work. 

Generally, in those moments where the conversation feels uneasy due to its erosion of humanity, our response is to sugarcoat or dilute the truth. Instead of attempting to remain silent, be comfortable with those uncomfortable conversations. Immigration is not an easy topic to dilute; it involves honesty, starting with the systems that have suppressed so many people. 

Heydy Vasquez is a senior majoring in Legal Studies writing about immigration policy and its effects on students in her column “Undocutales,” which runs every other Friday, she is also the Opinion editor.