In my third month as a student teacher in Los Angeles, four police officers were acquitted for the recorded beating of Rodney King, igniting fury that engulfed the city. Many of my students lived nearby the chaos, and I found myself nervously attempting to guide them through the situation. Unsure of my ability to provide real answers, I still tried. Ever since, I have sought ways to assist my students in making sense of a world that often feels threatening and hostile.

Whenever violence occurs close to our school, I make an effort to persuade them that their fate is not predetermined. On 9/11, I shared reasons to believe that our school wouldn’t be the next target for terrorism. In the spring of 2020, I aimed to encourage hope in my students as we faced a year dominated by the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic. These unplanned “teachable moments” often turn out to be the most significant lessons, despite my lingering feelings of inadequacy in handling them.

This uncertainty weighed heavily on me last Wednesday.

Trump’s promise could tear families apart

That day, my students seemed unusually silent, their downcast faces gazing at me expectantly. One student inquired about my thoughts on the election. I resorted to a typical educator response: “I believe the American electorate has spoken.”

Some students voiced their disappointment, their expressions filled with fear. I suspected that their concerns were deeply personal. I also didn’t want to assume a shared sentiment among all of them. I invited them to express their feelings about the election in writing for the first portion of class.

As I read some of their writings, my initial suspicions were confirmed. The mass deportations promised by Republican nominee Donald Trump, cheered by many of his supporters, signaled the potential removal of parents, grandparents, and other family members of several of my students.

What could I possibly say to those kids?

I could imagine the harsh words Stephen Miller or other Trump allies might have for them: Your parents shouldn’t have come here. America is for Americans.

And perhaps some resentful supporters of Vice President Kamala Harris would say: Why did some of your fathers and uncles vote for Trump?

This past Monday, Trump appointed Miller, one of his immigration advisors, as deputy chief of staff for policy in his incoming administration. He has also chosen Tom Homan, the former head of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, as a “border czar” to supervise deportation strategy. It appears the president-elect is set to follow through on his promises without delay.

My immigrant background shapes my perspective

I have always strived not to force my political beliefs onto my students. While my viewpoints aren’t entirely hidden, I attempt to present a balanced viewpoint. When students voice their opinions on various subjects — political or otherwise — I challenge them. It’s my responsibility. But the fear evident in my students’ expressions touched my heart. Their distress was a silent call for reassurance.

I cannot predict what will happen to their parents or to them. I’m doing my best to equip them for a future overshadowed by danger.

What I could offer was this: they are not the first young people facing an unpredictable future. My father was a teenager during the Great Depression, with the threat of war looming. I was in high school during the Vietnam War, which concluded just before I could have been drafted. Teenagers in Gaza and Ukraine, who have survived, are enduring unimaginable terror.

None of this helped raise the spirits of my students. Why would it? Perhaps they didn’t need uplifting words. I can imagine that in many other high school settings, students are celebrating the election results.

Accompanying my weak attempt at perspective was an equally feeble effort at motivation: It is the hurdles we face that shape us, and each of you possesses the strength, courage, and ability to achieve great things.

I should have been more ready for this moment.

It’s a privilege to assist children who have faced so many challenges and share their fears and struggles with me in the hopes that I can provide some support.

I sensed that some students may have lost faith in me. One young man asked me to clarify how the Electoral College works. I tried my best, using an election map to explain the complexities of the winner-takes-all system and its somewhat elitist origins. I emphasized that the popular vote seemed to favor Trump, which at least aligned with the principles of democracy.

Immediately, I recognized that this explanation hit hard for those kids. It became clear to me what they really needed to hear:

Anyone who believes you don’t belong in this country is mistaken. You and your families are welcome here. It’s clear that our immigration system is flawed and has been for a long time.

I come from a family of immigrants; my grandfather broke the law to come to the United States. He arrived alone from Russia in 1915 at just 14 years old, using false documents that made him appear older. He earned his right to be here through hard work and sacrifice, fighting for this country like many immigrants do to create a better life and contribute to America’s greatness.

Your parents have done the same. So have you.

I hope that I was able to provide some comfort to my students on the morning after the election. But considering Trump’s recent appointments, it’s likely that I will have to reassure them again.

Larry Strauss has been a high school English teacher in South Los Angeles since 1992. He is the author of over a dozen books, including “Students First and Other Lies: Straight Talk From a Veteran Teacher” and the forthcoming “A Lasting Impact in the Classroom and Beyond,” aimed at new and struggling teachers, set to release in the spring.