Abdullahi Ahmed, Ed.D., of Portland is a naturalized citizen who came to the U.S. as a refugee from Somalia. He has worked for the Portland Public Schools since 2001.

History’s gravest injustices are rarely carried out by people who imagine themselves as villains. They are carried out by officers, clerks, supervisors and administrators who insist they are simply “doing their jobs.” This is what makes the conduct of immigration enforcement in recent years so deeply alarming. The issue is not only policy, but the role of the people who implement it.

To the officers and officials tasked with enforcing immigration policy: this is an appeal to your moral agency, not an accusation of personal malice. Many of you entered public service believing in law, order and the protection of communities. Yet in practice, immigration enforcement has at times included warrantless actions, family separations, prolonged detentions and procedures that strain due process.

These are often justified as lawful duties. Over time, it can become easy to see oneself as a neutral actor executing policy rather than as a moral agent responsible for outcomes. The refrain is familiar in many institutions throughout history: I didn’t make the policy. I just enforce it.

But “just following orders” has never been an adequate moral defense. Systems of harm depend on ordinary people who stop asking basic questions: Is this lawful? Is this just? What harm am I causing? Who benefits from my obedience? When those questions disappear, cruelty can become routine. Paperwork replaces empathy. Human beings become “cases,” “bodies” or “removals.” Professional language and procedures can sanitize actions that, outside the office, would trouble the conscience.

The danger intensifies when enforcement exists alongside dehumanizing rhetoric from political leaders. When immigrants are described as threats, burdens or lesser people, it signals who belongs and who does not. In that environment, harsh treatment can begin to feel normal, even justified. Abuse becomes easier to rationalize when those affected are no longer seen first as neighbors, parents, co-workers or children.

This is how such systems function. Language lowers moral barriers. Bureaucratic systems absorb that language into policy. Officers carry out those policies while telling themselves they are simply doing their jobs. The public grows accustomed to what is happening, reassured by uniforms, legality and the appearance of order. No single action seems extraordinary, yet together they form machinery that causes real human harm.

And the consequences are no longer only procedural or emotional. They have become fatal. So far, two people have been killed by ICE officers. Two lives lost in the name of enforcement. This is senseless, and it needs to stop. When enforcement results in death, it should force every person inside the system to pause and ask the questions that should never be ignored. At that point, no one can credibly claim that this is merely paperwork, policy or routine law enforcement duty.

The most dangerous participants in unjust systems are not necessarily the loudest or most hateful, but the most obedient. Institutions reward compliance and discourage dissent. Questioning orders can feel risky. Careers, reputations and livelihoods can seem to hang in the balance. But history does not judge individuals by the comfort of their choices. It judges them by the consequences of their actions.

The consequences of moral abdication are not abstract. Families are separated. Children experience trauma that will shape their lives for years. Communities live in fear of the very institutions meant to uphold the law. Trust in democratic systems erodes when the law appears to be used primarily against the vulnerable.

A democratic society depends on people within its institutions who are willing to think, to question, and at times to refuse. Law enforcement does not excuse actions that violate fundamental rights. Professionalism does not absolve cruelty. Bureaucracy does not erase accountability.

This is ultimately a call to responsibility. Harm becomes possible when ordinary people abandon their obligation to think. When individuals convince themselves that their role is too small to matter, they become the gears that allow harmful systems to function smoothly.

To those enforcing immigration policy today: you are not powerless functionaries. You are moral actors with the capacity to reflect, to speak up and to insist on humane treatment within the bounds of your duties. Meaningful change inside institutions often begins with individuals who refuse to silence their conscience.

Refusing to think is not neutrality. It is participation.