A Scholar's Internal Struggle: To Travel or Not Amid ICE Presence
In just two weeks, I am set to deliver what could be the most pivotal lecture of my entire academic career. This honor is akin to winning an Oscar in the field of education, a recognition that marks a significant milestone. My flight is booked, my hotel reservation is confirmed, and I have even selected my attire for the occasion. Yet, I find myself grappling with a question I never anticipated: Should I actually go?
This hesitation stems not from a lack of preparation or willingness, nor from the well-documented long lines caused by TSA officer shortages. Instead, it arises from the need to pass through major airports, including Chicago, where the increasingly visible and unpredictable presence of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents has fostered a climate of fear. I am genuinely scared.
The Prestige of the AERA Annual Meeting
The American Educational Research Association (AERA) annual meeting stands as the largest gathering of educational researchers globally. With over 15,000 attendees and more than 2,500 sessions, it serves as a cornerstone for scholarly exchange. This year's conference, scheduled for April 8-12 in Los Angeles, centers on the theme "Unforgetting Histories and Imagining Futures: Constructing a New Vision for Education Research."
I have the distinct honor of delivering the AERA Social Justice in Education Award Lecture. As the 22nd recipient in the organization's 110-year history, I join a prestigious lineage of scholars whose work has profoundly shaped the field. Additionally, I am scheduled to participate in a presidential session. These are not minor events; they are career-defining moments.
The Irony of Speaking on Liberation While Feeling Constrained
Despite these honors, I am caught in a profound internal struggle that touches both mind and spirit. Throughout my career, I have encouraged educators to speak truth, even when faced with trembling hands and shaky voices—a commitment I have upheld amid harsh political attacks, which is precisely why I am receiving this award. Yet, I cannot ignore the irony: I plan to speak on "Beyond Learned Powerlessness to Educational Liberation," while wrestling with conditions that make such liberation feel uncertain.
What does it mean to advocate for liberation while navigating increasingly constraining circumstances? I recognize that this fear is not accidental; it is strategically cultivated by the current administration to unsettle and silence us. Thus, I push against its grip, striving to resist.
The Wisdom of Courage Without Risking Safety
Dr. Adelaide L. Sanford, a renowned scholar-activist, advises educators to "be courageous without being suicidal." Her words have never felt more pertinent. With 13 deaths reported in ICE custody this year alone, facing overly aggressive agents does not feel like an act of courage but an unnecessary risk. Reports of ICE-related encounters at airports and broader enforcement actions have heightened anxiety among travelers, and I am not alone in my hesitation.
Many international scholars have already opted out of this year's AERA conference due to visa restrictions and concerns about the political climate. One AERA interest group sent a message to colleagues in Africa and the Caribbean, expressing solidarity with their "concern, fatigue, uncertainty, and fear."
Broader Implications for the Global Research Community
What does it signify for a global research community when scholars are too afraid to travel? How does knowledge production suffer when certain voices are absent not by choice but by circumstance? And what does it mean for those of us who can travel but must weigh that decision against our sense of safety?
Just two weeks before this defining career moment, I am sitting with these heavy questions. Academic life should not feel this way. Preparing for a major lecture should involve refining ideas, not calculating risks; it should spark intellectual excitement, not concern for personal safety; it should foster community, not caution.
The Weighty Decision Ahead
The question before me is simple yet burdensome: Do I board the plane, or do I put my lecture, my voice, and my reputation on ice? I have not yet made a decision. However, I know that when scholars begin questioning whether it is safe to attend airports, conferences, and spaces where knowledge is shared, we are no longer dealing with mere inconvenience. We are confronting a profound threat to intellectual freedom and democratic exchange.
Gloria Swindler Boutte, Ph.D., is a Distinguished Professor at the University of South Carolina and a Public Voices Fellow of the OpEd Project in partnership with the National Black Child Development Institute.
