When the Grief Isn’t Just Yours: On Collective Trauma, Immigration, and Finding Our Place in the Fight

by Andrea Farfan, MA

In the 2013 fiscal year, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) deported 368,644 people.

My father was one of them.

I was a teenager when it happened, old enough to understand what was going on, but too young to process it in any meaningful way. That kind of loss doesn’t stay neatly tucked away. It sinks into the nervous system, reshapes your sense of safety, and leaves its imprint on how you move through the world. For me, it has always come in waves. Sometimes the grief is quiet. Sometimes it crashes in unexpectedly. Lately, it’s been rising faster. It no longer feels like grief in the traditional sense. It feels heavier. Deeper. Like something bigger than me is moving through my body.

If you’ve lost a parent at a young age, you understand that the loss doesn’t just hurt emotionally. It interrupts development. It changes how you form relationships, how you manage emotion, and how you understand yourself. When that loss is tied to systemic violence, the grief becomes layered. It isn’t only about losing a person. It becomes about losing safety, belonging, and trust in the structures that are supposed to protect us.

Every time I come across another deportation video, that original wound is reopened. Not just because it reminds me of my father, but because it reminds me that this system continues to separate families in the same way. My grief isn’t only personal anymore. It’s connected to something shared.

What Is Collective Trauma?

Collective trauma is the emotional and psychological effect of a traumatic experience that impacts an entire group of people. This kind of trauma might result from war, natural disaster, genocide, or systemic oppression. It is different from individual trauma because it doesn’t happen in isolation. It spreads through communities, affecting relationships, cultural identity, and the sense of safety and connection people have with one another.

Collective trauma lives in the body and in the culture. It shows up in how we respond to news, in how we carry stress, and in how we relate to people with shared experiences. When I see children sitting alone in immigration court, I don’t just feel sadness. I relive the fear that lived in my family for years. I hear the clipped voices during jail visits. I feel the panic and helplessness that filled every conversation during that time. I remember the screams I never let out because it didn’t feel safe to fall apart. I learned to be quiet. To stay composed. To hold it together for everyone else.

But silence wasn’t healing. It was survival. And now that I am no longer in survival mode, those old feelings are rising. They have nowhere else to go.

Chronic Nervous System Activation

The body doesn’t always distinguish between real-time danger and the memory of danger. This is a key reason why collective trauma can feel so destabilizing. When you see an image or hear a story that resembles your past pain, your nervous system may respond as if the threat is happening now. Heart rate increases. Muscles tense. Thoughts speed up. You may find yourself spiraling into anxiety or shutting down emotionally, even though nothing is happening in your immediate environment.

This is not irrational. It’s how your body protects you. It is your survival brain saying, “We’ve seen this before. We know it’s dangerous.” But when this state of activation continues over time, it becomes exhausting. You may start each day with dread, feel fatigued even after resting, or struggle to feel hope.

Many people experiencing collective trauma report emotional whiplash. One moment you feel okay, and the next, something flips. It becomes difficult to plan, to focus, or to feel grounded. This isn’t a sign of personal failure. It is the physiological toll of being exposed to ongoing distress without time to recover.

Recognizing Collective Grief

Collective grief is different from individual grief. It is not just about losing someone you love. It can be about losing a way of life, a sense of safety, or the belief that the world is fair or predictable. When you grieve collectively, you are grieving alongside others. You may not share the exact story, but you feel the weight of what is happening because it touches something inside you.

You may be experiencing collective grief if:

• You feel drained after watching or reading the news
• You cry over people you’ve never met, and feel their pain deeply
• You experience waves of helplessness, rage, or anxiety without knowing exactly why
• You feel numb or disconnected from your surroundings
• You over-identify with the suffering of others because it mirrors your own past
  

These are normal responses to abnormal circumstances. They don’t mean you are weak or too sensitive. They mean your body and spirit are awake to what is happening in the world around you.

Social Media and Emotional Overload

Social media plays a complicated role in collective trauma. It allows us to connect, share stories, and find resources. It also delivers a constant stream of distressing content, sometimes faster than we can process. The urge to stay informed can easily become a cycle of emotional overwhelm. We scroll, feel deeply, shut down, and then scroll again.

When my father was detained, we had no access to these platforms. There were no viral posts or explainer videos. We had no idea what our rights were or where to turn for help. Everything felt confusing and isolating. Now, information is more accessible. There are communities, mutual aid efforts, and people speaking out. That is a powerful shift.

But it also means there is no real off-switch. The grief is no longer private. It is public, visible, and often inescapable.

If you find yourself dissociating or feeling frozen, that is a signal. Your system may be asking for space.

Ways to Care for Yourself

There is no perfect way to cope with collective grief, but there are ways to stay connected to yourself while navigating it. Here are a few that can help:

• Limit exposure. It’s okay to take a break from the news or social media. You do not have to consume everything to be compassionate.
• Talk about it. Share your feelings with people you trust. Whether that’s a friend, therapist, or support group, connection can reduce isolation.
• Take meaningful action. Choose one thing you can do. Make a donation, share a resource, sign a petition. You do not have to do everything to make a difference.
• Validate your emotions. Your grief, rage, sadness, and fear are all real. Naming them can reduce their intensity.
• Prioritize rest. You are not meant to carry this alone or endlessly. Rest is a form of resistance and restoration.

Everyone Has a Role in Change

There is often pressure to respond to injustice in one specific way, such as protesting or speaking out publicly. But there are many ways to support movements and create change. The Social Change Ecosystem Framework by Deepa Iyer identifies roles like caregivers, storytellers, builders, healers, and disruptors. All are important. All are necessary.

For a long time, I felt guilty that I wasn’t doing enough. I wasn’t marching or posting or organizing. But I was helping in ways that were sustainable for me. I was listening. Supporting. Writing. Healing.

Your role does not have to look like anyone else’s. What matters is that it aligns with your values and capacity.

Final Thoughts

This essay cannot undo what has been done, and it cannot fix what continues to happen. But it can be a space for naming the pain. For validating the grief that does not always get recognized. For reminding you that you are not alone in what you feel.

You are not broken. You are carrying pain that belongs to you and to your people. In allowing yourself to feel it, you are creating space for something new.

We grieve together.

We heal together.

And from that place, we begin again.

Resources

• Know Your Rights – ACLU
• Latinx Therapy – Resources
• LatinX Talk Therapy – Therapist Directory

InnerVoice Psychotherapy and Consultation is located in Chicago, IL and Skokie, IL and provides in person and telehealth services for anyone living in the state of IL.

Book with Andrea here.