Over the last few days, my thoughts have dwelled heavily on the tragic losses of Renee Good, Keith Porter, and Alex Pretti. These are not only names. They are people whose absence has left silence at kitchen tables, unanswered phone calls, bedrooms that will never be slept in again.

And I cannot stop thinking about Liam Conejo Ramos, a 5-year-old child reportedly coaxed and manipulated by ICE agents and used as bait to lure his undocumented father. Five years old. A child implicitly asked to betray the person who keeps him safe. A child turned into a tool of enforcement. A child who will carry that trauma long after the headlines fade.

This is personal. Not personal in the abstract, and not personal as a political posture. Personal, as in this happened to me, and I am still living with the consequences.

I write as someone who was placed squarely in the crosshairs of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the Department of Homeland Security, the Trump administration, and an online army of MAGA supporters for doing my job: informing my constituents that ICE was operating in our district. For that act alone, the federal government manufactured a false narrative about my intentions and my character.

My face and name were circulated. My warnings were recast as threats. My motives were deliberately distorted.

For months, I lived with death threats and harassment. Messages did not just target me; they named my family, my loved ones, even my address. Fear became routine. So, when I say I know what it feels like to have the federal government come down on you, to twist the truth and treat your life as expendable, I am not speculating. I am remembering.

For those mourning the lives lost, those targeted as immigrants, and those grappling with the state of our democracy, this is how harm takes root: quietly and permanently. Grief does not arrive all at once. It crashes, recedes, and returns without warning. It shows up in grocery stores, at school drop-off, in the sudden realization that someone you love is never coming home, not because of an accident or fate, but because an agency decided the rules did not apply to them.

This is not an indictment of police officers, firefighters, or first responders who serve our communities and work to earn public trust. ICE claims it exists to keep communities safe. But what does safety look like when neighbors are killed, children are exploited, and families are shattered in the name of enforcement?

These are not isolated incidents. They are the predictable outcome of an agency that has become lawless, unaccountable, and emboldened by years of political protection. Data confirms what communities already know: the overwhelming majority of people arrested by ICE have no serious criminal record.

They are targeted not because they pose danger, but because they are easy to find.
That is not public safety. It is state-sanctioned fear.

Leadership matters. Under Secretary Kristi Noem, the Department of Homeland Security has failed catastrophically. When an agency leaves bodies in its wake, and the response is deflection rather than reform, removal is necessary. Leadership without accountability is complicity.

That is why I am asking you to act.

Call your federal elected officials. Demand an immigration system rooted in due process, community-based solutions, and human dignity, not fear and force. Demand leadership at DHS that understands public service is not a license for unchecked power.

I write this knowing the threats will return. I know the harassment will escalate.

But silence is more dangerous.

For those who are undecided, who may not agree with every word here but still believe that no government agency should operate above the law. I ask only this: do not wait until the harm feels personal to decide that this has gone too far, because the least among us do not have the privilege of living without action.

State Rep. Corey Paris represents Stamford’s District 145 in the Connecticut House.