A Most Inconvenient Pursuit:

Nevada Schools, Immigration, and Children Learning in Peace

It appears, dear reader, that the great state of Nevada finds itself in a struggle most peculiar—namely, whether or not gentlepersons of the federal persuasion should be allowed to prowl about schoolhouses, peering over primers and interrogating young scholars on matters of nativity. One might think that a child’s chief worry in school ought to be arithmetic, not whether a man in a government-issued hat will haul his parents away before lunchtime.

But, alas, this is the age in which we live.

A certain Ms. González, an Assemblywoman, has proposed a bill—AB217—to spare children and their kin from such unpleasantries. The bill, in its essence, instructs immigration officials to keep their business outside school gates unless they arrive bearing a proper warrant or a court order, much like a gentleman caller seeking permission before entering a parlor. More than that, it forbids school employees from tattling to the authorities about a student’s household affairs unless there’s a pressing reason to do so.

It is well known that laws of this nature do not pass through the Legislature without some degree of commotion. For there is always a stout fellow somewhere, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief, lamenting the downfall of civilization should the government be asked to temper its enthusiasm. But Ms. González, undeterred, has made her intentions plain: She means to provide immigrant families a sense of security, lest schoolhouses become the latest hunting ground for those with a fondness for deportation.

The bill comes as the nation finds itself in a curious state, where the laws of yesterday may be tossed out by breakfast and rewritten by suppertime. And nowhere is this uncertainty felt more acutely than in Nevada, where many families now wonder if schools—once a refuge for learning—might become something quite the opposite.

To illustrate the point, Ms. Arce, a devoted school staffer, tells of children who whisper of immigration officers like they were bogeymen lurking beneath their desks. “Although sometimes the children take it as a game,” she notes, “it is a fear that can affect them psychologically.”

And who among us would disagree? It is one thing to fret over a spelling test and quite another to fret over whether one’s father will be home for supper.

Meanwhile, school officials in various counties have issued letters and proclamations saying a student’s information isn’t for sharing with federal agents without due cause. No doubt, this will reassure some, but others may find cold comfort in promises made in ink when laws, as we know, are written in sand.

Adding to the excitement, AB217 also seeks to forbid school police officers from employing chemical agents or stun devices on students—a matter which, one might assume, should hardly need legislation. Yet here we are, in a time when it is necessary to instruct the constabulary that pepper-spraying children is, perhaps, bad form.

Nevada, however, is not alone in this crusade. Other states, too, have taken up the fight. In Oklahoma, legislators contemplate whether schools should inquire about a child’s citizenship before allowing them the privilege of grammar lessons. In New York, teachers have taken to sending cryptic messages to one another at the sight of immigration officers, much like villagers warning of approaching highwaymen.

And so the debate rages on. The Nevada State Education Association affirms that children should attend school without the nagging fear of unexpected government intrusion. It is a modest demand, yet it has the air of revolution.

As for Ms. González’s bill, it remains whether the Legislature will take up the matter with all due haste or if it will get lost in the shuffle of more pressing concerns, such as the proper allocation of funds for road repairs. In either case, one can only hope that Nevada’s children may, in the end, enjoy the rare privilege of attending school without looking over their shoulders.