I live in a community that, not long ago, was a quiet town outside Austin, Texas—one of many places people fled to in search of safety, order, and a better quality of life. Today, that same community is rapidly transforming into the very version of Austin many residents hoped to escape. Growth is not the problem. Ideology is.
A dangerous idea has taken hold in America: that enforcing the law is somehow immoral, that accountability is cruelty, and that penalizing criminal behavior is less important than preserving the feelings of those who violate the law. This worldview did not emerge organically. It has been taught, repeated, and normalized so effectively that many Americans now genuinely believe the humane response to disorder is deliberate blindness.
Last week, that ideology was on full display in my town.
Federal immigration authorities conducted targeted enforcement operations in the area. These were lawful, focused actions carried out by Homeland Security professionals doing the job Congress—and the American people—have repeatedly mandated them to do.
But within hours, our community’s social media pages erupted. Facebook groups, Instagram accounts, and self-styled “community leaders” issued warnings about ICE’s presence. Progressive elected officials joined in, publicly condemning the operation and circulating information on how to avoid federal law enforcement. Some went further, encouraging demonstrations near ICE activity to “drive them out.” Others urged residents to honk loudly at ICE vehicles to alert everyone nearby of the supposed “danger.”
This behavior has become so common that many now dismiss it as routine political theater. But what followed was far more troubling.
Rather than standing firmly behind the Rule of Law, our local government and law enforcement agencies rushed to distance themselves—less out of principle, it seemed, than fear. City social media accounts hurriedly clarified that ICE had merely notified them of a vehicle parked near City Hall and that the city neither supported nor assisted the operation. The message was unmistakable: Don’t blame us.
Even more disheartening, the police department issued its own statement emphasizing that it was not cooperating with ICE enforcement activities, noting only that officers responded alongside an ambulance. Again, the subtext was clear: We want no part of this.
This did not happen in Minnesota or Illinois. It happened in Texas, a state known nationwide for being tough on crime and historically supportive of immigration enforcement. It happened just miles from our state capitol. And yet even here, local entities openly refuse to cooperate with the mandate the American people have repeatedly voted for: enforcing our immigration laws.
In doing so, these institutions accomplished two things—neither defensible. First, they publicly disavowed the enforcement of federal law, as though lawful authority was something shameful. Second, they compromised operational security by broadcasting where law enforcement was present and what it was—or was not—doing. In any other context, this would be recognized as reckless. Here, it was applauded.
This is precisely why Texas leadership must hold every jurisdiction accountable for never becoming a sanctuary—whether by statute or by practice—for illegal immigration and criminal activity. The Texas Legislature took a critical step by passing legislation requiring most county sheriffs’ departments to participate in ICE’s 287(g) program. That was a meaningful foundation—but we can do better.
We must build on that progress by requiring all local law enforcement agencies to enter into the 287(g) program that best fits their department, and to publicly commit to enforcing the Rule of Law. Accountability cannot stop at county lines, nor can it be optional based on political pressure and online outrage.
Let us not forget that just one year ago, the country was being overwhelmed daily by millions of illegal border crossings. The effort to restore control—through lawful enforcement and deportation—has only just begun. We will never come close to addressing the scale of the problem if cities, especially in red states, are allowed to refuse responsibility and pass the buck.
A society cannot function if enforcing the law is considered oppression and breaking it is reframed as victimhood. Compassion does not require chaos. Justice cannot survive if those tasked with upholding it are guilted into apologizing for doing so.
My community is changing, not because it is growing, but because it is abandoning the principles that once made it worth growing up in. If we continue down this path—where enforcing the law is controversial and officials are more afraid of activists than disorder—we should not be surprised when the place we moved to becomes indistinguishable from the place we left.
Selene Rodriguez is a campaign director for the Secure and Sovereign Nation campaign at the Texas Public Policy Foundation.