

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.


Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
"This kind of quota system mirrors the kind of policies that white supremacist groups, including the Klan, pushed for 100 years ago."
Not a single refugee who isn't a white South African has been legally resettled in the United States since October, according to the State Department's most recent arrivals report.
The report, published last month, shows that from the start of October 2025 and the end of January 2026, just 1,651 people were admitted under the US Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP), which allows those fearing persecution based on race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or social group to apply for refuge in the United States.
Aside from just three, every single one of them was from South Africa.
Three Afghan refugees were also reported to have been settled in Colorado in November. But since then, their admission has been indefinitely suspended, and those who have entered may be at risk of deportation.
During that same period a year earlier—the final months of the Biden administration—a total of 37,596 refugees arrived in the US, with the greatest numbers coming from the Middle East, South Asia, and Africa.
The Trump administration dramatically curbed refugee admissions during its first year in power. On his first day back in office last January, President Donald Trump suspended USRAP processing, leaving around 600,000 people in the pipeline suddenly stranded, including roughly 10,000 who'd already booked flights.
Around 130,000 of those refugees had already been through the State Department's meticulous and taxing vetting process, and were instead "left to languish in refugee camps around the world after being given the promise of safety and a new life in America,” as a group of Democrats in Congress put it.
The next month, however, Trump carved out an exception to the suspension exclusively for white South Africans, who he has falsely claimed face a "genocide," and severe "discrimination" from land redistribution policies intended to correct extreme apartheid-era inequalities.
After previously discussing a cap of 40,000 refugee admissions for the fiscal year 2026---already a reduction by over two-thirds from the Biden administration---Trump announced on September 30 that he would lower admissions to just 7,500, a historic low.
He announced the change without consultation with Congress, which is required under the 1980 Refugee Act, leading Democrats to accuse him of acting in "open defiance of the law."
But in late February, Reuters reported on an internal State Department document showing that the administration was planning to welcome as many as 4,500 white South Africans to the US per month and detailed plans to install trailers on US Embassy property in the country to expedite more immigrant approvals.
All the while, refugees fleeing war, government oppression, and genocide in countries including Syria, Sudan, Ukraine, Afghanistan, and others have been locked out or face threats of arrest by the US Department of Homeland Security (DHS) under a new policy requiring them to be reinspected to determine their ability for “assimilation.”
Many critics have pointed out the dramatic gulf in treatment between white immigrants from South Africa and members of other, largely nonwhite groups of immigrants, whom it has undertaken extreme measures to remove from the country with expediency.
Last month, a Rohingya refugee, who fled genocide in Myanmar and legally entered the US as a refugee, was found dead on the streets of Buffalo, New York, after being detained and then left outdoors in the freezing cold by immigration agents.
The policy was revealed as part of a case in which a federal judge halted a DHS effort to detain thousands of refugees in Minnesota who did not seek green cards after their first year of residency in the United States.
"While the Trump administration is trying to convert warehouses at home into massive prisons to jail and deport immigrants swept up in its racist crackdown, it is also working to build trailers in Pretoria so it can rapidly increase the number of white South Africans," wrote Ja'han Jones in an opinion piece for MS NOW.
Likening it to the 1924 Immigration Act, which created strict ethnic quotas for entry into the US, Jones said: "It’s the kind of immigration policy the Ku Klux Klan dreamed of. Literally. This kind of quota system mirrors the kind of policies that white supremacist groups, including the Klan, pushed for 100 years ago."
Recent violent and fatal encounters involving US Immigration and Customs Enforcement have forced families across lines of race, ethnicity, and immigration status to confront the reality of their precarious existence in America—and start talking to their children about how to stay safe.
It is 1955 and the hot Mississippi sun is blazing overhead. Miles away in Chicago a Black mother is having a conversation with her 14-year-old son. She tries to impress upon him the often subtle but dangerous realities of what it means to be Black in America, and how one misinterpretation, one lie, could result in his death. That boy is Emmett Till, and in her memoir, Death of Innocence, Mamie Till-Mobley reflects on “The Talk” she delivered to her son before his historically tragic trip to Mississippi.
This version of The Talk dates back to American chattel slavery and has been passed down for generations in Black families, shaped by ongoing racial violence and unequal treatment. But recent violent and fatal encounters involving US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) have forced families across lines of race, ethnicity, and immigration status to confront the reality of their precarious existence in America—and start talking to their children about how to stay safe. Black families’ experience on how to have these conversations is now, tragically, something many families can learn from.
The Talk has always carried more than one meaning. For many families, it refers to the conversation about the birds and the bees, the discussion parents have with their children about dating, puberty, and sex in an effort to prevent teen pregnancy or sexually transmitted infections. That version of The Talk is often framed as universal.
But for Black families, The Talk has long meant something entirely different. In addition to conversations about puberty, Black parents have used The Talk to prepare their children for the realities of race and how to stay safe in a society shaped by racism.
In this modern era The Talk is undergoing another round of evolution. It is no longer just a Black conversation. It is fast becoming an American conversation.
Both conversations typically happen around the onset of puberty, but only some families have had the privilege of needing just one version of The Talk. In a 2024 study conducted by Dr. Conial Caldwell, Black fathers reflected on whether other communities also have The Talk. The consensus was clear: Some groups have long had the luxury of avoiding it, while others have their own versions shaped by identity, history, and perceived vulnerability. However, that distinction is beginning to blur.
Because of recent ICE actions, many immigrant and mixed-status families are foregoing everyday liberties out of fear, like grocery shopping and going to work. In Connecticut, Minneapolis, and other locations school attendance stymied by ICE-related anxiety is widespread. Recent deaths linked to encounters with federal immigration enforcement, including those of Keith Porter Jr., Renee Nicole Good, and Alex Preti in Minnesota, have sparked national outrage and renewed scrutiny of ICE’s training practices, accountability, and use of force, including against white Americans. These incidents follow the detention of 5-year-old Liam Conejo Ramos by ICE agents, showing that not even young children are safe.
Families who once felt insulated from normalized and state sanctioned violence against Black Americans, are now asking the same questions Black parents have asked for generations: How do we keep our children safe? How do we prepare them for interactions with law enforcement? What do we say and when?
The fathers in Caldwell’s study offered simple but powerful guidance.
Parents should have The Talk early and revisit it often, adjusting the conversation as children grow. As children grow and become part of new environments outside of the home, so too do the risks of danger increase. Parents’ protective conversations should reflect their children’s developmental stage and level of maturity. At the same time, they should be mindful of social media and television, recognizing that children are exposed to images and narratives that shape their understanding of safety and belonging. Social media has become of one the major spaces of youth interactions; thus, the risk of exposure is not only heighted but as consistent as their internet access. Beyond one’s immediate family, communities must work together to protect all children, not just their own. And children must be consistently reminded that their lives have value, regardless of how they look or where they come from.
From chattel slavery to emancipation, from reconstruction and the civil rights period to post civil rights, The Talk has had to respond to harsh prevailing societal realities for Black Americans. In this modern era The Talk is undergoing another round of evolution. It is no longer just a Black conversation. It is fast becoming an American conversation. So, just as Mamie Till-Mobley may have agonized over her words as she gave her son some of her final attempts at guidance and protection, parents across the USA are weighing their words and conversations in their attempts to safeguard their children.
A strong case can be made for establishing a national competition in which all citizens can participate and advocate for what they consider the absolute “bottom feeding” moment of Trump’s presidency.
The Wall Street Journal Editorial Board recently declared Donald Trump’s public meltdown in the wake of the Supreme Court’s tariff decision “arguably the worst moment of his presidency.”
I beg to differ. There have been countless others for which notable commentators have argued strongly that he surely can’t go any lower than this. They identify a moment, action, or post that they contend is the “worst of the worst,” the nadir of presidential leadership.
For my part, a strong case can be made for establishing a national competition in which all citizens can participate and advocate for what they consider the absolute “bottom feeding” moment of Trump’s presidency. Many benefits would accrue from such a competition.
One of the most consequential benefits is the aggregation in one place of the thousands of “worst moments” that citizens will cite. Amassed together, they would inform our collective consciousness about the quality of leadership that the nation is experiencing.
We have become numb to moral transgressions because we are drowning in them. This is an extremely hazardous place to be. A “worst of the worst” display will help us regain perspective and moral equilibrium.
Perhaps an appropriate national advocacy organization could take on the task of creating a giant display. Viewers would walk through a museum-like presentation, offering a sequenced timeline of these juried “worst moments.” Each one would be set apart and include explanatory text on why it was chosen and who nominated it.
The display would also provide another critical benefit. It would remind us all of the assault on our moral compass that these last years have wreaked.
It is not accidental or incidental that the unfolding saga surrounding the Epstein files has not produced the moral outrage in this country that it has in Great Britain. We have become numb to moral transgressions because we are drowning in them. This is an extremely hazardous place to be. A “worst of the worst” display will help us regain perspective and moral equilibrium. Without something like this, our status as ethical beings will be nullified.
Here are three of the “worst of the worst” that I believe warrant serious consideration for the display. I have chosen ones in particular that involve Trump’s blatant attempts to dominate other persons in a way that diminishes their basic humanity. These speak eloquently of his motivation to harm his fellow human beings and encourage followers to violence.
The president’s recent posting of the Obamas as jungle apes ranks high on my list. Denigrating a predecessor in such a blatantly racist fashion, while also including his wife who is revered by a good proportion of the citizenry, makes this a good fit for the “worst of the worst.” Unlike the Supreme Court’s tariff decision, there was not even a wisp of policy implication here. Rather, it concerned the basic regard we owe other people.
When Rob Reiner and his partner were killed by his drug-addicted son, Trump disparaged him, calling him “deranged.” As with his treatment of Sen. John McCain, he expressed disdain for a highly regarded individual, who through no fault of his own had become a victim.
The most legendary “worst of the worst” is the “grab them by the pussy” assertion. Here Trump objectifies and denigrates over half the world’s population, displaying for all to see how threatened he is by the power of women. He leaves no doubt of his inclination toward sexual abuse and intimidation.
So, my fellow Americans, I urge you to identify the moment you think qualifies for the “worst of the worst.” There is an endless array from which to choose. Our qualification as a caring and right-minded people depends on your thoughtful deliberation.