Immigrant families often find hope in their children’s education, despite the hardships and uncertainty that come with migration. In her book Now We Are Here: Family Migration, Children’s Education, and Dreams for a Better Life, Harvard scholar Gabriella Oliveira shows how parents view schooling as a “currency of love,” a way to give meaning to the sacrifices they’ve made and invest in a stable future.
Today, one in four children in the U.S. has at least one immigrant parent, yet schools nationwide struggle with staffing shortages, language barriers, and funding cuts to diversity and inclusion programs. Oliveira warns that the cost of not educating these children will be felt across the nation’s economy and social fabric, while immigrant families themselves continue to display resilience, hope, and faith in education as the surest path to belonging and opportunity.
In your book, you describe education as a “currency of love.” How did this concept emerge, and how does it differ from the usual narrative of migration for economic reasons?
People often migrate because of instability or lack of opportunity, but that’s only part of the story. Migrant families are more than economic actors; they have hopes and dreams. Education becomes a stabilizing force, a promise that makes the sacrifice worth it. Sending a child to school, seeing them learn and grow, becomes an act of love and meaning beyond economics.
Many parents still say the U.S. is worth the sacrifice, but these are difficult times for immigrants. How are families coping now?
My research began during the first Trump presidency, when detention and family separation were widespread. Families faced multiple disruptions—migration, detention, COVID—and now live under constant surveillance and fear. Some parents avoid driving or sending their kids to school, relying on buses instead. This anxiety affects children’s ability to learn. Yet, despite everything, families remain remarkably hopeful and resilient.
The case of Nory Sontay Ramos, the honor student deported with her mother who later died, is heartbreaking. What is the cost of such events for our country?
These policies inflict deep harm on young people under the assumption that “they’re resilient.” That’s unfair. Trauma from deportation or family loss leaves lasting scars. Deterrence policies intentionally cause suffering, believing it will stop migration, but the long-term effect is exclusion, loss of trust, and a weakening of our social fabric.
How can educators support migrant families?
Teachers are asked to solve society’s problems while overworked and underpaid. The best classrooms start with trust—knowing students’ stories, their countries of origin, and how immigration affects them. When children share difficult experiences, teachers shouldn’t avoid the topic but listen and involve counselors, social workers, and staff. Whole-school support teams, like those in New York and Massachusetts, address not just language but emotional and social needs.
In your research, do parental values matter more than economic factors in motivating migration?
They’re intertwined. Parents migrate to provide stability and opportunity, while children define success through education. Parents see working and supporting their kids as love; children see learning and graduating as success. Economic and educational goals run in parallel.
Families from East Asia often leave strong academic systems. How do they view American education and the American dream?
The American dream still resonates, the idea that if you work hard, opportunity follows. In countries like Brazil, schools lack basic resources, so U.S. education feels like a big step up. Latin American parents value educación, raising kind, moral people, while others seek creativity and innovation absent in rigid systems. Some plan migration for better schooling; others discover those opportunities after arriving.
Do you have comparative data on first and second generations?
First-generation students often rise faster, while newcomers start behind due to language barriers but catch up by fifth grade and often surpass peers. However, outcomes depend heavily on poverty and ZIP code. Many immigrant children attend overcrowded, underfunded schools, limiting their potential.
What are today’s biggest challenges for school districts?
Staffing. One in four children in the U.S. has an immigrant parent, yet many schools lack bilingual staff, even receptionists or liaisons. Underfunding has eliminated key positions. Misidentifying language learners as special-needs students is another issue caused by lack of training and resources.
Korean and other immigrant families value education deeply. How does that compare to your findings, and how can schools support bicultural students?
Many families share that “education is everything” mindset but define it broadly—as character, respect, and dignity, not just academic success. Schools often limit multicultural education to “heroes and holidays.” True inclusion comes from involving families, celebrating culture meaningfully, and viewing diversity as an asset, not a deficit.
Has anyone built a database tracking the school-to-deportation pipeline?
Sociologist Joanna Dreby at SUNY has important data on immigrant families, though not specifically on minors due to privacy laws. Since the government doesn’t report clearly, researchers like her are building alternative databases to track these patterns.
How does educating immigrant children affect the U.S. economy?
America’s competitiveness has always depended on immigrant labor. Failing to educate these children creates long-term costs—lower tax revenue, fewer skilled workers, and weakened social cohesion. Investing in education sustains economic and social strength.
Some families now keep children home or request online classes out of fear of deportation. How harmful is that?
Very. Most states returned to in-person learning, but attendance is down. We haven’t recovered from pre-COVID learning losses in math and literacy. Every missed day widens the gap. Districts are trying to reassure parents it’s safe, but fear of deportation keeps many away.
How does the backlash against DEI affect education?
It’s not just about names. Eliminating DEI offices means losing funding, staff, and institutional knowledge. Without centralized support, teachers are left on their own. The people who built inclusive systems are being pushed out, and their expertise is disappearing.
What barriers do Indigenous immigrant students face when schools assume all Latinos share the same background?
In one New York school, over 125 languages are spoken. It’s impossible to cover them all, especially Indigenous ones, but schools can invite parents to volunteer and use tech tools to translate. The key is curiosity, not seeing diversity as a burden. Programs like “lunch bunches” help kids share their cultures proudly instead of hiding.
How can parents encourage children to stay in school despite fear and hardship?
Teenagers who migrate late often want to work instead of study, while younger kids are more likely to graduate. Parents should stress how each educational step—high school, community college, college—multiplies opportunity. But children shouldn’t bear the emotional weight of “saving” the family. They need both encouragement and emotional support.
How do immigrant families balance formal and vocational education?
Formal K–12 education is essential, but vocational paths are equally valuable. Parents nurture children’s interests, whether that leads to a trade, community college, or a four-year degree. All routes to stability and success are meaningful.
What about NGOs and local organizers filling the gaps left by shrinking federal support?
They’re the unsung heroes, working underfunded and overextended. Despite shrinking resources, local communities are rebuilding solidarity through food drives, clothing programs, and neighborhood aid. Much of the real work now happens at the local level, often quietly, to avoid backlash. Supporting them through donations is vital.
How can you reach conservative policymakers who reject pro-immigrant arguments?
The most effective approach is to focus on children. A single child’s story can bridge divides and appeal to shared moral values. Shifting the narrative from immigrants “taking” to immigrants “giving,” through education and contribution, resonates deeply. When conversations center on children’s well-being, even skeptics start to listen.
(This conversation has been edited for length. You can listen to the entire interview at americancommunitymedia.org/media-briefings/.)
