The Rules Changed Mid-Game: And People Are Paying the Price

"When the rules shift mid-game, it’s not policy—it’s betrayal. The trauma isn’t just in the raids. It’s in the erasure of trust." - Mary Coughlin

When I was growing up, I learned a basic truth about fairness:
You don’t get to change the rules in the middle of the game.
That’s what makes it a game. That’s what makes it just.

But somewhere between the borders of bureaucracy and fear, that rule has been erased.

Under the Trump administration’s immigration policies, thousands of people who followed the rules—who entered the U.S. legally, who held lawful status—are now being punished as if they didn’t.

Status that once protected them has been revoked.
Programs that offered safety—like TPS, DACA, humanitarian parole—have been rescinded.
Visas have been canceled. Legal definitions have shifted.
And suddenly, the people who did everything “right” are labeled threats.

It’s not that they broke the law.
It’s that the law moved the goalposts after they arrived.

This isn’t order. It’s state-sanctioned instability.

Revoking legal status retroactively—without notice, without due process, without regard for humanity—is not just policy.
It’s cruelty by design.
It’s a trauma machine built on shifting sand.

What does that do to a person?
To a family?
To a community already living under the strain of uncertainty?

It tells them:

“Your safety was conditional.”
“Your humanity is negotiable.”
“You belonged—until we decided you didn’t.”

This isn’t about rules. It’s about control.

Let’s be clear: the legal tools being used—revocation of TPS, visa termination, accelerated deportations—are not new.
But the way they’re being used? That’s new.
That’s deliberate.
That’s weaponized.

This administration isn’t upholding the law. It’s redefining the law to widen the net—to turn more people into “removable” bodies.
To grow ICE’s power.
To justify fear.
To enforce a vision of America that has no room for change, difference, or hope.

This is personal.

It’s not about paperwork. It’s about people.

People who dreamed of a better life.
People who built communities.
People who trusted the system when it told them they were safe.
And now that system is pulling the rug out from beneath them—not because of what they did, but because of who they are.

We are the ones who remember how fairness is supposed to feel.

And we must say:

You can’t change the rules mid-game.
Not when lives are at stake.
Not when children are watching.
Not when the game was rigged from the start.

We remember what justice looks like.
We remember what care feels like.
And we will keep pulling the thread until this unraveling stops.

With a heart heavy from the truth and hopeful for what we can still choose together,
Mary

P.S.: If this reflection speaks to something deep in you—about care, justice, and the power of showing up—you might find yourself at home in the Trauma-Informed Professional (TIP) community.
It’s where we remember what it means to care like it matters.

Learn more about TIP and join us

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