Immigration and Public History in the Second Trump Era
11 February 2025 – Will Walker
How public historians should respond to prevalent anti-immigrant attitudes and the immigration policies of the Trump administration, including the promised “mass deportation program,” is one of the urgent questions of our moment. In 2016, History@Work published “A response to the election,” in which the authors (including myself) wrote:
“In the past several decades, our field has worked to foreground stories of marginalized people seeking justice and inclusion, stories that have become even more important to share more widely now. . . . By showing the present moment as part of longer struggles, we can play critical roles in facilitating and leading educational efforts and direct actions to challenge racism, xenophobia, and violence directed toward immigrants or any other vulnerable population. Humanizing immigrants’ experiences and sharing their narratives with broad audiences continues to be essential. At the same time, advocacy around policy and human rights cannot be ignored. Promoting education and dialogue will likely not be enough to ensure that human rights are respected. Public history exhibits and projects provide people with tools to parse how fear and self-interest can be manipulated, but if we want to walk our talk, our institutions will need to continue to strengthen emerging practices of direct engagement and civic action that we see around the field.”

US-Mexico Border Walls in San Diego, CA. 26 November, 2021. Image credit: Amyyfory. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:U.S_-_Mexico_Border_Walls.jpg
During the second Trump administration, many public historians’ educational efforts, direct actions, and advocacy around policy and human rights will be constrained for various reasons, including the freezing or elimination of funding streams and executive orders that prohibit specific terms, concepts, and narratives from being discussed or disseminated. These actions are already having a devastating effect on important public history organizations. Moreover, institutions will choose to self-censor out of fear of reprisals. Those organizations that do speak out may face retaliatory funding cuts and other consequences, such as public threats, for taking positions on issues or simply presenting certain topics. Individuals may face both personal and professional consequences, including termination, for their actions. Those public historians working for the federal government or state governments with far-right Republican leadership will be the most constrained as the specter of reprisal, termination, severe budget cuts, or elimination of agencies, in whole or in part, hangs over them. Any organization that receives federal funding, however, will likely face pressure to conform to the administration’s ideological positions.
Public historians who are in positions that allow them to humanize immigrants (including refugees, the undocumented, and asylum seekers), share narratives of marginalized people seeking justice and inclusion, and engage in advocacy will shoulder an extra burden as many others are forced to remain silent. Though the prospects of effecting meaningful changes to policy are dim in the short term, calling attention to individual stories and highlighting possible human rights abuses may bring domestic and international pressure to bear on the government and potentially deter the most extreme actions.
Oral histories may be one way to preserve and share such narratives, although practitioners must be mindful of the personal and legal consequences that may accrue for narrators and interviewers engaged in this work. Denshō is an outstanding example of a long-term oral history project documenting human rights abuses and sharing the experiences of immigrants and their descendants. Following this model, public historians can highlight historical analogues to inform contemporary policy discussions. Situating today’s anti-immigrant attitudes and policies in context can show how previous exclusionary campaigns—such as repatriation in the 1930s, Japanese internment during World War II, and “Operation Wetback” in the 1950s—enabled abuses and violations of constitutional rights and failed to achieve their objectives of improving economic conditions or reducing the danger of violent attacks on Americans. Public history institutions can also support vulnerable populations in other ways—for example, through hosting arts and culture programming and serving as a conduit to legal and social service resources. Finally, public historians can play a critical role as documenters of current events, ensuring that the facts of what occurs in this period are not erased from history.

“Japanese Americans in front of poster with internment orders”, 25 April 1942. Photo by Dorothea Lange, 210-G-2A-572, Records of War Relocation Authority, Record Group 210; National Archives at College Park, College Park, MD
For many institutions, the temptation will be to avoid the topic of immigration altogether because it may be seen as a lost cause in the current political climate. Administrators and boards are likely to argue that the headwinds are simply too strong now to find a receptive audience. This perspective is understandable. The impulse to remain silent as a means of self-preservation, along with legitimate concerns about personal and professional consequences for staff, are valid.
On the other hand, a critical mass of public historians engaging in this work can provide a degree of cover for the whole and make it more difficult to silence every dissenting voice. Foundations and other private funders can fill the gaps left by the loss of government dollars for projects. Professional associations can help to fight isolation by providing community and support, including legal advice, for practitioners who are threatened or endangered. Even small actions may come with consequences, but the alternative is pre-emptive surrender to anti-immigrant sentiment and possible human rights violations. In the current political era, the will of the voting majority is opposed to liberalizing immigration policy. The enforcement of existing laws in ways that comply with U.S. and international law is well within the rights of the incoming administration. Nevertheless, by continuing to humanize all immigrants and making strategic decisions to both highlight the benefits immigrants bring to U.S. society and call attention to potential human rights abuses, public historians may be able to make space for voices of moderation or opposition to be heard.
~ Will Walker is a former lead editor of History@Work.