Calling Our Representatives Is a Nervous System Act
by Dr. Denise Renye
Lately, many people are carrying a quiet but persistent unease. It shows up as distraction, heaviness, or a low level hum of dread that is hard to name. Often, it is not personal. It is collective.
When immigration enforcement intensifies, the impact ripples far beyond the people directly targeted. It lives in bodies, in families, in communities, and in the nervous system itself. The images, the stories, the fear carried by families and communities land not just cognitively, but somatically. You can feel it in your chest, your gut, your breath.
For many, this can create a surge of helplessness or paralysis. The scale of harm can feel too large, too entrenched, too far away.
One of the most accessible and effective ways to respond is also one of the most underestimated: calling your elected representatives.
This is not just a political act. It is a nervous system act.
When we call our representatives to oppose harmful immigration enforcement and demand accountability for agencies like Immigration and Customs Enforcement, we move from freeze into agency. We shift from helpless witnessing into embodied participation. That shift matters.
Why calling matters more than people think
Congressional offices track phone calls carefully. Staff log them by issue, volume, and urgency. When call volume spikes around a topic, it becomes visible very quickly. Calls carry more weight than emails, petitions, or social media posts, especially when legislation, funding decisions, or oversight hearings are on the table.
You do not need to be an expert. You do not need the perfect language. You do not need to debate or convince.
You are simply registering your stance as a constituent.
What you are really saying when you call
On the surface, you might be asking for reduced enforcement funding, increased oversight, or protections for immigrant families. Beneath that, you are also communicating something deeper.
You are saying that policies which rely on fear, separation, and dehumanization are not compatible with safety. You are saying that community health does not come from terrorizing people in their homes or workplaces. You are saying that dignity is not optional.
For many people, especially those who work in trauma informed or relational fields, this alignment between values and action is regulating. It brings coherence to the system.
A simple way to make the call
You can call the Capitol switchboard at 202 224 3121. Tell them your ZIP code and ask to be connected to your Representative or Senators.
When someone answers, you can say something as simple as:
“Hi, I am a constituent calling to oppose ICE enforcement practices that harm families and communities. I am asking the Representative or Senator to support policies that reduce ICE funding, increase oversight, and prioritize humane alternatives to detention. Please record my position.”
That is enough.
You are not required to stay on the line. You are not required to answer questions beyond your ZIP code. Your voice counts simply by being logged.
This is how collective pressure works
One call can feel small. Hundreds of calls do not. Thousands cannot be ignored.
Change often happens not because everyone agrees, but because enough people are willing to be visible in their dissent. When many nervous systems refuse to normalize harm, the political system feels that pressure.
If you want to amplify your impact, you can call weekly during key moments, encourage others in different districts to do the same, or follow up with a short email restating your ask.
Staying human while engaging systems
It is easy to burn out when engaging issues like immigration enforcement. The grief and rage are real. So is the need to pace yourself.
Calling your representatives is one way to stay engaged without flooding yourself. It is bounded. It is concrete. It is relational. Someone hears your voice.
In a time when so much feels out of control, choosing to speak anyway is an act of grounded resistance.
And it matters more than you think.