Advocacy Days Reflection: The Travel Ban is Back - But So Is Our Voice by Salimatou Diallo

“A Moment That Hits Different.”

That’s how I’d describe standing in Washington, D.C. as a participant in RCUSA Advocacy Days, the same week a new travel ban was announced. Walking up the steps of the Capitol building to meet with my elected officials and speak on how the harmful policies surrounding the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program has impacted myself and my peers was powerful. However, this feeling of empowerment in advocating for my community was overshadowed by the weight of what’s happening across the country right now.

The Trump administration’s new travel ban doesn’t just affect people overseas. It sends fear bubbling through communities right here—communities where families are afraid to leave home, go to work, or attend school celebrations.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve watched people around me disappear. One of my coworkers has been in detention for months. No due process. No clear timeline. No real answers.

ICE agents are showing up in places that are meant to feel safe—graduation ceremonies, job sites, supermarkets, even at people’s front doors. These aren’t isolated incidents. They’re patterns. They raise the hard question: Does this really make us safer? Or is the real goal fear? 

For many, they are creating chaos and trauma, not peace or protection. People are being taken away under the false premise that they are dangerous, but in reality, it is a means to instill fear and unrest.

Advocacy can feel like both a burden and a gift in moments like this. The burden is carrying our stories of loss, confusion, and waiting. The gift is finding spaces where those stories are heard and honored.

Real change doesn’t start with statistics. It starts with connection. Behind every number is a person: a friend, a coworker, a neighbor, a parent, or a child. Someone who is missed. Someone who matters.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: silence is harmful. Speaking up—whether through writing, organizing, conversation, or simply checking in on someone—can create the momentum we need to move forward. And that kind of action doesn’t require credentials or authority. It just requires care. I call on my fellow Texans to continue to reach out to the people around you, to ask questions, and to speak up.

You don’t need to be an expert to make a difference. Start with a conversation with your family, coworkers, neighbors, or local school. Ask what’s happening in your community. Learn how policies and systems are affecting those around you. Offer support where it’s needed. And if you work in healthcare, education, transportation, or any other essential service, know that your perspective carries weight, too.

We all have a role in shaping communities where people feel safe, seen, and supported. It doesn’t take a platform or a title. It just takes a willingness to act.

As a start, I encourage my Texan neighbors and friends to take action against the travel ban. Everyone deserves a safe place to 

live and a safe way to get there – no matter where they’re from. Contact your elected officials to reject this discriminatory travel ban and defend our values of welcome for all.

If this moment feels heavy, let it be the reason you lean in, not step back.

Salimatou Diallo is a Refugee Storytellers Collective member from Guinea and works in program management, community engagement, and equity and inclusivity at the International Rescue Committee.