08/12/2026
A member of the community psychology community needs our attention.
Maryam Tahmasebi is a psychology and statistics professor at Los Angeles Pierce College. Her husband, Eissa Hashemi, is also an educator and professor. According to Maryam’s account, their lives changed dramatically on April 9 when her husband was detained by immigration authorities. The following day, Maryam and her high-school-aged son were also detained.
More than 120 days later, Maryam says that she and her son remain in an immigration processing center in Texas, separated from her husband and from the community, school, work, relationships, and routines that constituted their lives in California.
Her story deserves particular attention from those of us in community psychology.
Our field has long argued that well-being cannot be understood solely at the level of the individual. People exist within families, schools, workplaces, communities, institutions, and political systems. When those systems exert power, separate families, disrupt education, remove people from their communities, or create prolonged uncertainty, the psychological consequences cannot simply be treated as individual problems.
Maryam writes about watching her teenage son be handcuffed, being transported from California to Texas, prolonged separation from her husband, and the deterioration of her family's physical and mental health.
Whatever our individual political perspectives, community psychologists should be paying attention when policies and institutions profoundly alter the lives and well-being of families and communities.
One sentence from Maryam’s account particularly stays with me:
“If this could happen to us, a law-abiding family of two professors and a young boy, it can happen to anyone.”
Please read Maryam Tahmasebi’s account, share it, and help bring greater awareness to what is happening to this family.
Community psychology has always asked us to look beyond the individual and examine the systems surrounding them. This is one of those moments.
My husband, son, and I have been locked up for months—despite being permanent residents with no criminal record. It is an unendurable, unending nightmare.
