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was originally reported by Chabeli Carrazana of .听

Two years ago, Nicolle Orozco Forero walked into an in-home day care in Seattle, Washington, looking for a job. She was barely 22, a whole five feet tall 鈥� if that. But she was calm, focused. Her presence struck the owner, Stephanie Wishon, because it鈥檚 not easy to find qualified staff who can work with children with disabilities.

Orozco Forero had experience working with kids who had autism back in Colombia, so Wishon had her come in for a trial run and hired her after the first day. The children, who needed someone who had love and care to give in abundance, gravitated toward her. She was good at the hardest stuff. She changed diapers and outfits the moment they were soiled. She was vigilant; her kids stayed pristine. And she got them to do the things they wouldn鈥檛 do for other people, like say 鈥渁h鈥� when it was time to get their teeth brushed or sit still long enough for her to twist a braid down their back.

Some people just have that way about them.

And people like Orozco Forero are exceptionally rare. Already, the staffing shortage in child care is near crisis levels. It鈥檚 far 鈥� about of those families say they face significant difficulty finding care for their kids, partly because there are too few people with the ability, expertise or desire to work with their children. Immigrant women like Orozco Forero have been helping to fill that void. They now make up of all child care workers.

At home, Orozco Forero was also caring for her own young boys, one of whom started to show symptoms of a serious illness over the past two years that doctors have not yet been able to diagnose. She took some time off to care for him last year, before returning to the kids at Wishon鈥檚 day care.

Her work has kept an already precarious safety net together. Without women like Orozco Forero, families who have nowhere else to turn for care have to make difficult decisions about how to survive and keep their children safe. Without her, the safety net snaps.

And that鈥檚 exactly what happened on June 18, the day she was detained.

It was supposed to be a routine meeting with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Orozco Forero and her husband had been to all their monthly meetings for the past year and change, since their asylum charge was denied in April 2024.

The family 鈥� Orozco Forero; her husband, Juan Sebastian Moreno Acosta; and their two sons, Juan David, 7, and Daniel, 5 鈥� fled Colombia two years ago. Moreno Acosta, a street vendor, had been persecuted by gangs .

After arriving in the United States, they sought the help of a lawyer with their asylum claim, but when they couldn鈥檛 pay his full fee ahead of their hearing, he pulled out. They represented themselves in court and lost the case. With no knowledge of the U.S. court system, they didn鈥檛 know they had 30 days to appeal the ruling, either. Ever since, ICE has been monitoring them, requiring they wear a wrist tracker and meet with an immigration officer once a month, sometimes more, according to a family member. (The 19th is not naming the family member to protect their identity.) It鈥檚 unclear why ICE has allowed them to stay in the country all this time, though it鈥檚 not necessarily uncommon; ICE typically prioritized immigrants with felonies for deportation.

Orozco Forero had seen the reports of illegal immigrants being rounded up at their immigration appointments. President Donald Trump鈥檚 mass deportation effort has led to the detention of about , like Orozco Forero, who now make up of those detained. Her husband does have a misdemeanor reckless driving conviction for driving under the influence of alcohol on his record, but he completed a court-mandated alcohol course for that and has no other convictions.

Still, Orozco Forero wasn鈥檛 worried when she headed to her appointment on the morning of June 18. If ICE planned to detain her, Orozco Forero thought, they would have asked her to come with the boys, right?

And she had been doing everything right: She鈥檇 gone to all her appointments, taken documentation to show she was going to school at Green River Community College taking courses in English and early childhood education. She had completed a child care internship that trained her to open her own licensed in-home day care. Her licensure approval was set to arrive any moment, likely that same week, and the day care was just about ready to go.

But that morning, her family was still wary, asking her to share her location just in case.

Shortly after 10 a.m., Orozco Forero texted her family member: 鈥淭hey are going to deport us鈥�

鈥淣icolle what happened? Nicolle answer me,鈥� they texted back. 鈥淲hat do I do?鈥�

鈥淚 can鈥檛 speak I feel like I鈥檓 going to faint,鈥� Orozco Forero replied. And then: 鈥淚鈥檓 sorry it wasn鈥檛 what we expected.鈥�

Two-and-a-half hours west, on the coast of Washington in a town called Southbend, Wishon was frantic. Orozco Forero had texted her, too. ICE was asking for the boys.

In two years, Wishon had grown incredibly close to Orozco Forero, who had cared for her own kids. After her family moved to the coast, Wishon rented out her house in Seattle to Orozco Forero, whose boys were excited to have a home with a yard.

Wishon鈥檚 husband, Gabriel, hopped into his truck and headed to Seattle. Wishon, meanwhile, got on the phone with the Orozco Forero family鈥檚 ICE agent and every lawyer she could. They were going to take them into detention at a facility 2,200 miles away in Texas, a facility that was to detain families. Wishon wanted to find a lawyer who could stop the deportation order, and she wanted to make sure the boys would be reunited with their parents if they took them to meet the ICE agent.

And that was especially important, not just because they were young children, but because Juan David is still sick.

For the past year, he鈥檚 been seeking treatment at Seattle Children鈥檚 Hospital for an illness that is turning his urine muddy. So far, doctors have determined he鈥檚 losing red blood cells and protein through his urine, indicating a possible kidney issue, but they haven鈥檛 yet zeroed in on what is causing the problem. They likely need a kidney biopsy to be sure.

鈥淕iven the complexity of his case, it is essential that Juan remain in the United States for continued testing and treatment,” his nephrologist Jordan Symons wrote in a March letter to ICE. 鈥淲e kindly request that you consider this medical necessity in your review of his immigration status and grant him the ability to stay in the United States until his treatment and evaluation are completed.鈥�

Juan David鈥檚 care team has been monitoring him closely to ensure his red blood cell and protein levels never drop too low. His condition could become serious quickly.

鈥淵ou can die from that,鈥� said Sarah Kasnick, a physician鈥檚 assistant who is familiar with his case. Kasnick is also a foster parent, and Orozco Forero provided care for her family.

When Gabriel Wishon arrived to pick up the boys, they were confused and disoriented. Where were their parents? Why was everyone crying? They didn鈥檛 want to go to Colombia, they told him on the drive. They wanted to stay in the United States.

Around 5:30 p.m. that evening, he met with the ICE agent, who had waited past her work hours for them to arrive.

鈥淏ye boys, you are going to see your parents right now. They are right inside,鈥� Wishon told them. He watched them walk in carrying two stuffed animals, a Super Mario doll and Chase, the popular cartoon dog dressed as a police officer.

The families Orozco Forero cares for are now in a free fall.

Jessica Cocson, whose son has been in Orozco Forero鈥檚 care for more than a year, described her in a character letter to ICE as a 鈥渂lessing to us in ways I struggle to fully express.鈥�

Orozco Forero and her husband 鈥渟upport working families, provide quality childcare, and demonstrate compassion and commitment every day,鈥� Cocson wrote. 鈥淚t is heartbreaking to think that someone who gives so much and asks so little could be forced to leave.鈥�

Tamia Riley, whose two sons with autism were also in Orozco Forero鈥檚 care, said losing her was like watching 鈥渁 father walking out the door.鈥�

鈥淭hese people, these day care providers, sitters, they are a form of family members for me and my children,鈥� Riley said.

Now, the day care she was set to open lays empty. Inside, the walls are plastered with posters listing colors and sight words. There are cushioned mats on the floor and play stations. Tables with tiny chairs. A tall pink dollhouse. High chairs and a pack and play for the babies. Outside, two play houses, a ball pit, toys to ride on and little picnic tables set across an artificial turf. But no children to enjoy any of it.

Big Dreams Day Care she was going to call it, for the dreams she wanted the kids in her care to strive for, and the ones that were finally coming to fruition for her.

Orozco Forero鈥檚 detention has rattled child care workers across the country. In Texas, workers represented by the Service Employees International Union have been rallying in her name. U.S. Rep. Joaquin Castro, a Texas Democrat, of the family鈥檚 release at a rally on June 29 in San Antonio. And a group of union workers is attempting to deliver supplies to the family. It鈥檚 an effort Orozco Forero knows little about; she only has limited communication with those on the outside.

Tricia Schroeder, the president of the Seattle-based SEIU chapter that represents care workers, said that, for years unions like hers have been working to improve quality, access and affordability in child care, a system in such deep crisis it鈥檚 been called by the Treasury Department

Immigrant women like Orozco Forero were part of that effort to improve access, doing jobs few Americans want to take on.

鈥淒etaining child care providers, especially those who care for kids with special needs, just deepens the crisis in early learning,鈥� Schroeder said.

Orozco Forero was also the connective tissue that kept families employed. Her loss has rippled across industries.

Kasnick, the foster parent, said one of the children in her care had been tentatively set to start at Orozco Forero鈥檚 day care as soon as it opened. Orozco Forero had been the only provider who would take the child, who has autism and is nonverbal.

Orozco Forero had cared for the girl at Wishon鈥檚 day care as if she was her own, even taking her in once when the child鈥檚 care had fallen through and no foster family in the entire county would take her in because of the complexity of her needs. The girl arrived at Orozco Forero鈥檚 house at midnight on a weekend 鈥渨ith no clothing, toys, medication or any of her belongings 鈥� this did not [deter] Nicolle and Sebastian instead they immediately went and purchased all the things鈥� the child needed, a social worker wrote in a letter to ICE. Kasnick said Orozco Forero was even considering becoming a foster parent.

Without her, Kasnick is out of options: She quit her job as a physician鈥檚 assistant to care for the child after Orozco Forero was detained.

鈥淭here are now 44 patients a day who don’t have anyone to provide their health care, and I can’t go to work because Nicolle’s day care didn’t open,鈥� Kasnick said.

In the weeks since, Kasnick has had an overwhelming feeling of helplessness, she said. How could this happen to someone who gave back so much?

鈥淭he security of knowing that you can be in your home one day and in a prison the next week, and you didn’t do anything except exist?鈥� she said. 鈥淚t makes you feel like there鈥檚 no good left in the world.鈥�

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Orozco Forero鈥檚 family has now been in ICE detention for nearly a month awaiting a bond hearing that could buy them time in the United States. Orozco Forero and the boys are together; her husband is in the same facility but separated from them.

Juan David hasn鈥檛 been eating. It took three weeks for him to receive medical care, Orozco Forero told her attorney, James Costo.

Costo has been working to get the details of why ICE allowed the family to stay in the country with monitoring after they lost their asylum case last year. There has been an order for their deportation since then, but ICE never attempted to deport them until the Trump administration ramped up efforts. The number of immigrants without criminal convictions who have been detained has since May.

The process to fight an asylum claim and appeal a denial is complicated 鈥� there are court deadlines, documents that need to be submitted and translated.

鈥淭hey think maybe they can do it themselves and go in and say what happened but they are not understanding the whole legal process,鈥� Costo said. 鈥淭he system isn鈥檛 made for things to be easy.鈥�

Costo is hopeful a judge will allow them to stay in the country temporarily as Juan David seeks care. They have almost no family left in Colombia, and no way to obtain care for him there, their family said. If they can stay, then perhaps Orozco Forero could try to obtain a work visa as a domestic worker.

He has gathered letters of support from numerous people whose lives the Orozco Forero family touched, and Wishon set up a to cover her legal expenses.

In the letters, Juan David鈥檚 first grade teachers call him an exceptional student who went from one of the lowest reading levels in the class 鈥� 10 words a minute 鈥� to one of the highest at 70 words a minute.

鈥淗e shows the qualities of a model citizen at a young age 鈥� dependable, ethical, and hard-working,鈥� wrote his teacher, Carla Trujillo.

They were all on their way to shaping a better future, Wishon wrote in hers. The couple 鈥渨orked tirelessly to build a better life for their children and to open their own licensed child care business. In all my years of employing and mentoring caregivers, I have rarely met a couple as responsible, driven, and capable as Nicolle and Sebastian.鈥�

鈥淭his family is not a threat,鈥� she concluded. 鈥淭hey are an asset.鈥�

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