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Demonstrators hold a rally in the Little village neighborhood calling for the elimination of the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and an end to family detentions on June 29, 2018 in Chicago, Illinois. Protests have erupted around the country recently as people voice outrage over the separation and detention of undocumented children and their parents. (Photo: Scott Olson/Getty Images)
As someone who was born and raised in the border state of New Mexico, I'm very familiar with political speak about immigrants and the border, especially when it comes to talking about safety.
After 9/11, concerns about safety led to the passing of the Homeland Security Act, which created a new cabinet department as well as a new law enforcement agency: Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE. ICE was given a never-before-seen level of criminal and civil authority -- in theory, to keep Americans safe.
It's now the largest investigative branch of the Homeland Security department. Unlike other law enforcement agencies like the FBI or DEA, ICE doesn't answer to the Department of Justice, which for decades has at least paid lip service to due process.
Far from being a law enforcement agency, ICE has become the closest thing we have to a lawless organization.
Rather than keeping Americans safe, the organization has become a menace, wasting taxpayer money while doing tremendous violence to communities that pose no threat. From separating families to having 3-year-olds stand trial for deportation, and from staking out churches to stealing immigrants' identities to open up fraudulent credit cards, ICE embodies cruelty.
More worrying still, people are dying in ICE custody at alarming rates.
In May, a transgender woman from Honduras named Roxsana Hernandez died in ICE custody in New Mexico. Roxsana came to the United States seeking asylum from persecution and violence in her home country.
Rather than being treated with the dignity and respect befitting all humans, and particularly those seeking asylum, she was detained by ICE and held in a freezing cold cell with the lights turned on 24 hours a day. This approach to detention is so common it has a name -- the icebox, because the cells feel as cold as a freezer.
As a queer, gender non-conforming New Mexican, this hit close to home for me. Not only did Roxsana come to this country because she wanted the safety to live her life as her authentic self, but she died in Albuquerque, my hometown. She died a terrifying and lonely death due to complications of pneumonia, likely caused by the frigid conditions of her detention.
I have to say: Her death certainly doesn't make me any safer.
In another devastating case, Pablo Villavicencio, an undocumented man originally from Ecuador, was detained by ICE while he was delivering pizza to a military base in New York City. Pablo lives in New York with his wife and young children, all of whom are U.S. citizens. His detention and possible deportation certainly won't make me, or anyone else, any safer.
ICE was created to protect the U.S. from terrorism. But it seems the biggest threats they can identify are refugees and workers supporting their families. If you ask me, ICE is the one terrorizing people.
Unfortunately, ICE has become even more aggressive in the past 18 months -- and not just against people from Mexico and Central America. The number of Haitians deported rose from 300 in 2016 to 5,500 in 2017 -- as if almost the entire city of Aspen, Colorado were deported. The rate of deportation for people from Somalia nearly doubled during the same time.
To what end?
At this point, ICE's targeting of families and non-threatening individuals makes it clear that it's beyond reform. Immigrants aren't threats to the nation's security -- they're people, just like you and me, who are trying to make the best of their circumstances.
We need to find better ways to make sure our communities are safe without relying on a lawless, violent organization. It can't be that hard -- we did it for centuries before the Homeland Security Act. ICE must be abolished.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
As someone who was born and raised in the border state of New Mexico, I'm very familiar with political speak about immigrants and the border, especially when it comes to talking about safety.
After 9/11, concerns about safety led to the passing of the Homeland Security Act, which created a new cabinet department as well as a new law enforcement agency: Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE. ICE was given a never-before-seen level of criminal and civil authority -- in theory, to keep Americans safe.
It's now the largest investigative branch of the Homeland Security department. Unlike other law enforcement agencies like the FBI or DEA, ICE doesn't answer to the Department of Justice, which for decades has at least paid lip service to due process.
Far from being a law enforcement agency, ICE has become the closest thing we have to a lawless organization.
Rather than keeping Americans safe, the organization has become a menace, wasting taxpayer money while doing tremendous violence to communities that pose no threat. From separating families to having 3-year-olds stand trial for deportation, and from staking out churches to stealing immigrants' identities to open up fraudulent credit cards, ICE embodies cruelty.
More worrying still, people are dying in ICE custody at alarming rates.
In May, a transgender woman from Honduras named Roxsana Hernandez died in ICE custody in New Mexico. Roxsana came to the United States seeking asylum from persecution and violence in her home country.
Rather than being treated with the dignity and respect befitting all humans, and particularly those seeking asylum, she was detained by ICE and held in a freezing cold cell with the lights turned on 24 hours a day. This approach to detention is so common it has a name -- the icebox, because the cells feel as cold as a freezer.
As a queer, gender non-conforming New Mexican, this hit close to home for me. Not only did Roxsana come to this country because she wanted the safety to live her life as her authentic self, but she died in Albuquerque, my hometown. She died a terrifying and lonely death due to complications of pneumonia, likely caused by the frigid conditions of her detention.
I have to say: Her death certainly doesn't make me any safer.
In another devastating case, Pablo Villavicencio, an undocumented man originally from Ecuador, was detained by ICE while he was delivering pizza to a military base in New York City. Pablo lives in New York with his wife and young children, all of whom are U.S. citizens. His detention and possible deportation certainly won't make me, or anyone else, any safer.
ICE was created to protect the U.S. from terrorism. But it seems the biggest threats they can identify are refugees and workers supporting their families. If you ask me, ICE is the one terrorizing people.
Unfortunately, ICE has become even more aggressive in the past 18 months -- and not just against people from Mexico and Central America. The number of Haitians deported rose from 300 in 2016 to 5,500 in 2017 -- as if almost the entire city of Aspen, Colorado were deported. The rate of deportation for people from Somalia nearly doubled during the same time.
To what end?
At this point, ICE's targeting of families and non-threatening individuals makes it clear that it's beyond reform. Immigrants aren't threats to the nation's security -- they're people, just like you and me, who are trying to make the best of their circumstances.
We need to find better ways to make sure our communities are safe without relying on a lawless, violent organization. It can't be that hard -- we did it for centuries before the Homeland Security Act. ICE must be abolished.
As someone who was born and raised in the border state of New Mexico, I'm very familiar with political speak about immigrants and the border, especially when it comes to talking about safety.
After 9/11, concerns about safety led to the passing of the Homeland Security Act, which created a new cabinet department as well as a new law enforcement agency: Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE. ICE was given a never-before-seen level of criminal and civil authority -- in theory, to keep Americans safe.
It's now the largest investigative branch of the Homeland Security department. Unlike other law enforcement agencies like the FBI or DEA, ICE doesn't answer to the Department of Justice, which for decades has at least paid lip service to due process.
Far from being a law enforcement agency, ICE has become the closest thing we have to a lawless organization.
Rather than keeping Americans safe, the organization has become a menace, wasting taxpayer money while doing tremendous violence to communities that pose no threat. From separating families to having 3-year-olds stand trial for deportation, and from staking out churches to stealing immigrants' identities to open up fraudulent credit cards, ICE embodies cruelty.
More worrying still, people are dying in ICE custody at alarming rates.
In May, a transgender woman from Honduras named Roxsana Hernandez died in ICE custody in New Mexico. Roxsana came to the United States seeking asylum from persecution and violence in her home country.
Rather than being treated with the dignity and respect befitting all humans, and particularly those seeking asylum, she was detained by ICE and held in a freezing cold cell with the lights turned on 24 hours a day. This approach to detention is so common it has a name -- the icebox, because the cells feel as cold as a freezer.
As a queer, gender non-conforming New Mexican, this hit close to home for me. Not only did Roxsana come to this country because she wanted the safety to live her life as her authentic self, but she died in Albuquerque, my hometown. She died a terrifying and lonely death due to complications of pneumonia, likely caused by the frigid conditions of her detention.
I have to say: Her death certainly doesn't make me any safer.
In another devastating case, Pablo Villavicencio, an undocumented man originally from Ecuador, was detained by ICE while he was delivering pizza to a military base in New York City. Pablo lives in New York with his wife and young children, all of whom are U.S. citizens. His detention and possible deportation certainly won't make me, or anyone else, any safer.
ICE was created to protect the U.S. from terrorism. But it seems the biggest threats they can identify are refugees and workers supporting their families. If you ask me, ICE is the one terrorizing people.
Unfortunately, ICE has become even more aggressive in the past 18 months -- and not just against people from Mexico and Central America. The number of Haitians deported rose from 300 in 2016 to 5,500 in 2017 -- as if almost the entire city of Aspen, Colorado were deported. The rate of deportation for people from Somalia nearly doubled during the same time.
To what end?
At this point, ICE's targeting of families and non-threatening individuals makes it clear that it's beyond reform. Immigrants aren't threats to the nation's security -- they're people, just like you and me, who are trying to make the best of their circumstances.
We need to find better ways to make sure our communities are safe without relying on a lawless, violent organization. It can't be that hard -- we did it for centuries before the Homeland Security Act. ICE must be abolished.