With every report of an ICE raid — images of weapons leveled at civilians, unprovoked violence and the chilling echoes of state-sponsored intimidation — I am haunted by the ghosts of my ancestors. What would my grandparents say? They fled the iron fist of dictators and tyrants, crossing oceans with the singular dream of raising their children in the “land of the free.” They believed in an America that opened its arms to the world.