Updated October 3, 2025 at 6:53 AM PDT
For the first time in his 25 years living in Washington, DC, an immigrant father says he has gone into hiding in his own home: for weeks, ICE checkpoints have dotted both sides of his street. He's spent most of his days indoors with his wife, living in fear. "We're not even going to work right now," he says. The entire family has asked that we withhold their names because he and his wife, originally from Honduras, are undocumented. "Our whole neighborhood is surrounded," he says. "You might get past ICE once. But twice?"
The only person who goes in and out of the house these days is their 17-year-old son. He's an only child, an American citizen, born in the U.S. Every day he goes to high school, while his parents stay behind in the house.
More than 4 million families in America are of mixed status: some family members are in the country illegally, while others have legal status or even U.S. citizenship. As the Trump administration continues its campaign of mass deportations, many of these families are now scrambling to figure out what happens to U.S. citizen children if the parents get deported.
The Honduran family recently sat their son down and asked: what would you want to do? They say if he were a young child, there would be no debate. But he's a senior in high school. He hopes to eventually go to college and continue his life as an American.
"I don't even know Honduras," the son responded. "I've never been."
And then he mentioned his best friend's family, who the family has known since the boys were in pre-K together. "We need to ask them for help," the son said.
On the other side of town, in an upper middle class Washington, DC neighborhood, an American mom serves fresh baked cookies and milk.
She too asked that her name be withheld. She doesn't want to call attention to the Honduran family, whom she considers among her closest friends.
She says when the Honduran parents reached out, she wasn't entirely shocked, she's been keeping up with the news. "I'm not gonna lie, I had inklings of what it might be about."
When the families met, the Honduran dad laid it out: my wife and I could get detained. If that happens, would you be willing to become the temporary guardians of our son? "Don't feel pressured," he told them. "We understand this is an enormous request. We are putting our son's life in your hands. He's 17, and he needs to finish high school. We want him to go to college. He'll need guidance."
The American mom says they did not hesitate. "My husband and I looked at each other and said, 'yes, of course.' It's not something we entered into lightly. We love them."
During his first term in office, President Trump faced major criticism for separating immigrant families.
During this term, government officials have said that having an American citizen child does not protect immigrants from deportation.
It's not clear how many families have arranged emergency guardianship for their children, but lawyers NPR spoke to say, anecdotally, they've seen a big increase in recent months.
"What we're advising is: be prepared," says Ginger Miranda, President of the Central Florida Hispanic Bar association. Lately the group has been holding emergency guardianship and power of attorney classes across the state. They recommend people don't make verbal or other informal agreements. Instead, they advise making concrete plans with a lawyer.
And yet advocates say there is a reticence among many immigrant families to acknowledge the possibility of a deportation and create a Plan B.
"It's something that parents feel really reluctant to do," says sociologist Joanna Dreby at the University at Albany. She's spent the last 15 years studying the impact of immigration policy on children and teens, and she advises parents to have frank, open conversations about what's going on under the Trump administration's immigration crackdown. "It's really important to remember that children know what's going on. I've had children tell me, 'I'm worried that they're going to take mom away.' I had an eight year old tell me he had a backpack in his closet ready to run away in case ICE came, and he had never talked to his parents about it."
Dreby says making temporary emergency plans can provide stability during a time of tremendous upheaval. "From a parent's perspective, they may not want to do this, but it's important, just like writing a will."
Attorney Ginger Miranda says the consequences of not preparing can be serious: "if a parent is detained, those children are left vulnerable. Sometimes they're left at school. No one is there to pick them up, and without the proper legal documents in place, the children could end up in foster care."
This is exactly the scenario the Honduran family is afraid of: their son ending up in foster care.
So they signed the paperwork to give the U.S. citizen family emergency guardianship.
The American mom says she's told no one. She doesn't want to put the Honduran family at risk. "My mom does not know. My husband's mother does not know."
She says as they signed the documents, there were lighthearted jokes about the sheer amount of paperwork at hand. But afterwards, sitting in the car, she says the reality of the situation sank in. "As an American I am deeply sad and sorry that this is a conversation we even need to have," she says. "And yet I really do hold out hope for the possibility that in the long run, it does serve to bring people closer together."
The Honduran dad says he's grateful beyond words for their help. He's relieved his son will be safe, if either parent is detained and deported. Relieved, he clarifies, but not happy. "To abandon my child in another country, do you think that was my plan? Who would want this? Nobody."
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