Editor’s Note: This article uses pseudonyms to protect the safety of student sources.
Smithies who are undocumented or have undocumented families are constantly evolving their preparations for the ‘what if’ under the current administration’s harsh crackdown on immigration. The Undocumented Student Organization (USO) has dramatically changed the ways they support their members, who don’t even account for all undocumented students on Smith campus facing these battles on their own.
When being undocumented, “every case is different,” says Student One ’27. “Sometimes I just wish people knew a little bit more about what it actually means to be undocumented.” She lists the dramatically different possibilities of this status, such as people with expired visas or those under DACA status, with some protection but still without legal citizenship.
Student One highlights how “Even as an undocumented person myself, I don’t even know all the specific cases.”
To provide community to individuals in such different and precarious positions, USO is “trying to make (its) presence to the broader community very limited because it’s just not safe.” They’ve resorted to more private bonding events and communication networks to ensure members have the support they need while respecting their individual level of risk.
USO’s current project that non-USO members can support is “Messages from Home.” It started last semester over Family Weekend to support students with undocumented families who couldn’t travel to visit them. USO set up a table with stationary supplies for people to write messages of encouragement for the undocumented students.
It’s been executed a few times more, and students, professors and faculty have continued to write caring messages. Members of USO hope to turn them into an art exhibit and foster more engagement with the Smith community because “it just (means) so much for us (when) people actually show up and support.”
Student One said, “A lot of my professors and faculty that do know of my status… really have been trying their hardest to accommodate and try to still give (me and other undocumented students) opportunities despite everything going on. Sometimes I feel like (the Smith administration) could be doing more, or at least be a lot more transparent.”
However, on campus, she said, “I don’t feel unsafe.”
This doesn’t mean she and other undocumented students aren’t always exceedingly aware of their surroundings. Students in USO have been equipped with a general idea of how to be prepared and what to do if detained by ICE
“We have been made aware that stalking does happen by ICE agents…not even in person, but also on social media,” Student One said. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to prepare for a potential ICE agent stalking me. I have no idea.”
Undocumented students are becoming aware nearly every day of the existence of dangerous possibilities that they’d never considered preparing for. Previous challenges and fears have only been exacerbated, such as traveling, applying to graduate school and making future income all while being undocumented.
“We already don’t have a lot of opportunities on the table, but after Trump we have a lot less,” said Student One.
For first year students in these situations, the adjustment to college has been wildly disorienting. Managing the delicate balance between courses, extracurriculars, work and a social life is under the crushing pressure of the risks of being undocumented.
Student Two ’29 recalled the day after President Trump won the 2024 presidential election. At that point, she had no idea what college she’d end up at. Trump’s re-election added a whole new layer of uncertainty.
“(My peers and I) all related back to knowing that our lives are going to change … that’s when we started making our plans,” she said.
Coming from an undocumented family in an area with a significant ICE presence, Student Two and her family’s plans are continuously evolving to keep up with the increasing risks of being undocumented.
She recounted that, at home, her father had been exploited by his employer because of his immigration status, working 14 hours a day without overtime. When his employer started giving him less hours without notice and her family’s rent was raised, she described how they had to move into a smaller apartment.
To support her family, Student Two said that she has started working five times as many hours at her own job at Smith. “People are demonizing my family because I’ve been sending them money, even though they aren’t asking me to,” she said.
She added that she is planning to travel to her parent’s hometowns over the summer and check in on construction, helping them prepare to have a place to go back to in the case of deportation.
To cope with the stress, Student Two said that she has started therapy and is seeking out other systems of support offered at Smith. She describes herself as extremely grateful for these opportunities, but she still prepares for her future by “getting ready for the inevitable,” having already had other family members deported.
Tearfully, she imagined her final year at Smith: “I’ll probably not have my family with me. Which is kind of sad, because it’s something that keeps me up at night,” she said. “My parents hate when I talk like that, but we have to keep it real. I just don’t want to be surprised.”
Being undocumented looks different for everyone, and the path to citizenship is not financially feasible or accessible to all. Student One described how undocumented people are often forced to be more resilient than they should be.
She hopes that in these tense, unsure times, “we continue to find happiness and joy and we can still relax in certain moments… even if it’s not a constant state … even if it only lasts a few minutes, I think it’s its own privilege to be able to feel happiness and feel relaxed.”
