Release ICE detainees.

Fleeing death threats in his home country of El Salvador, Alexander Martinez entered the United States without papers two months into the Biden presidency. During his detention, he’s been shuffled between six different detention facilities while facing homophobic harrassment and abuse from guards. He remains detained despite passing initial screening for asylum. “I never imagined or expected to receive this inhumane treatment,” said Martinez. The Biden administration doubled the number of immigration detainees since the end of February (The Guardian). U.S. citizens may believe that mass detention of immigrants and asylum seekers is no longer an issue under a Democratic president. 27,000 immigrants — many detained indefinitely in overcrowded, unsanitary facilities with little access to medical care during an ongoing pandemic — might have a different perspective.

TAKE ACTION

Follow Asian Americans United, Juntos, Movement of Immigrant Leaders in Pennsylvania (MILPA), New Sanctuary Movement, VietLead, and Woori Center.
Find a local immigrant refugee organization near you, and identify the best way to support.
Contact your elected officials at the local, state, and federal level and demand that no other government institution share information with ICE. This includes school districts, local and state police, health and human services, and unemployment departments.

GET EDUCATED

By Andrew Lee (he/him)

When the American electorate denied President Trump a second term, it was in response to a number of outrages: the so-called “Muslim ban,” a failed attempt to construct a border wall, a bumbling response to Covid-19. Top among them was a “zero-tolerance” immigration policies that the United Nations Human Rights Council suggested “may amount to torture” (Independent). Candidate Biden rallied support in part by promising to “welcome immigrants in our communities” (Democratic National Committee). His election prompted many to share actress Idina Menzel’s sentiment when she tweeted, “My son just hugged me and said ‘mommy no more kids in cages!’ Tears of joy and tears of sadness” (Hollywood Reporter). Immigration policies and immigrant rights soon faded from front-page news.

But as Silky Shah from the Detention Watch Network reported, “His policies so far haven’t matched his campaign rhetoric” (The Guardian).

Community organizations around the country have forced significant concessions from an unjust and inhumane immigrant detention system, but they can use ongoing support to achieve justice and liberation for all immigrants. Advocates were able to push Pennsylvania’s York County Prison to stop accepting Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) detainees and secured the freedom of around 100 of those already detained. However, 200 of those already in York were transferred to other detention centers while others were deported (WHYY). Last Tuesday, a coalition of organizations including Asian Americans United, Juntos, Movement of Immigrant Leaders in Pennsylvania (MILPA), New Sanctuary Movement, VietLead, and Woori Center rallied outside the Philadelphia ICE office to demand liberty for all detainees.

“There are a lot of organizations, a coalition. We’re here because we now know that because of community pressure they freed 80-100 people,” Ivonne from MILPA told Anti-Racism Daily, describing what community organizations see as a significant but partial victory. 200 York detainees were transferred to other centers. Some were deported. “Now we want those within the center in York and those within any detention center in the U.S. to be freed.”

While immigration issues are sometimes associated solely with the Latinx community, VietLead executive director Nancy Nguyen told Anti-Racism Daily that she’s fought deportations of the Southeast refugees for ten years and that Black immigrants suffer some of the longest detentions with the least legal representation. “Obama was considered the deporter-in-chief,” she said. “The way that folks should understand it is that, yes, things got worse under Trump but Trump only drove the vehicle that Obama created… This certainly is not just a Latinx issue and it certainly is not an issue that started just with Trump.”

“There are many nefarious ways ICE gets into communities. It’s not just about detention centers. ICE is always trying to collude with the police, ICE is always trying to get into your Health and Human Services data, ICE is trying to get into schools,” Nancy said, “So in every community everywhere folks should be making sure to contact their electeds, to make sure that there are no ICE agreements with police. These are info agreements that the police or that your health department or your school districts share information with ICE,” said Nancy from VietLead. “And also donate to your local immigrant and refugee organizations that are fighting ICE on the ground.”

“Allyship” with immigrants that vanishes once one’s preferred political party gains office isn’t true solidarity. It’s using oppressed communities as a political football. There are organizations of immigrants across the country fighting for justice against a disgraceful system at great risk and against incredible adversity. Supporting them is a moral and political responsibility, especially for those with the privilege of citizenship.

“We’re different colors, from different countries, and they aren’t going to stop us,” said MILPA’s Ivonne. “We have the power to say: enough. We want everyone out. We want them with their families.”

Key Takeaways

Immigrant rights receive significantly less attention from news outlets and many members of the public now that the election is over.
In reality, the Biden administration doubled the number of ICE detainees since this February.
Immigrant organizations across the country have won victories but need resources and support regardless of who’s in office.

Nicole Cardoza 7/6/21 Nicole Cardoza 7/6/21

Understand the asylum process.

Last Tuesday, the Department of Homeland Security announced that they would start considering migrants whose cases were terminated by the Trump administration. The Justice Department also reversed an immigration ruling that barred individuals from seeking asylum due to domestic violence or gang violence (NYT). Expanding protections to individuals who are fleeing domestic violence or gang violence will offer protection to women, the majority of whom seek asylum due to interpersonal violence, gender-based abuse, and organized crime (NY Times).

Happy Tuesday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. There's intense pressure on the new administration to address the ongoing migrant crisis at the U.S.-Mexico border. Today, Nia shares more on the difficult journey many asylum seekers from Mexico face.

Thank you for your support! This daily, free, independent newsletter is made possible by your support. Consider making a donation to support our work. You can start a monthly subscription on Patreon or our website, or give one-time using our website, PayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza).

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Donate to RAICES, a nonprofit that provides pro-bono legal support to immigrants.
Tell the Biden administration to end Title 42 expulsions, which allows the U.S. to turn migrants away under the public health rule. Border agents have turned away migrants nearly 850,000 times since the beginning of the pandemic.
If you have room, consider hosting a refugee family so they have a place to stay while their case is decided.

GET EDUCATED

By Nia Norris (she/her)

Asylum is a protection granted to individuals who are foreign nationals who meet the definition of a “refugee,” someone not safe in their home country “on account of race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion” (American Immigration Council). Under the Trump administration, many asylum seekers who were crossing the U.S.-Mexico border were sent to Mexico to await hearings for their cases.

In 2019, the Trump-era DHS introduced the Migrant Protection Protocols, which required asylum seekers to return to Mexico to await immigration hearings in the United States (DHS). There were about 70,000 migrants enrolled in this program, which was also known as Remain in Mexico. The majority of migrants who were affected by this policy were from Central America. Migrants waiting at the border often live in inhumane conditions and are often victims of violence, kidnapping, and rape (The Guardian). Many have reported missing court hearings because it was too dangerous to attend, or because of extreme situations such as being kidnapped. Those who missed their court hearings were ordered to be deported and lost their chance to get asylum (Buzzfeed).

DHS suspended the Migrant Protection Protocols on Biden’s first day in office. This allowed many of the migrants already waiting for case decisions to cross the border in February (The Guardian). However, the Biden administration only allowed unaccompanied minors to stay in the U.S. as new asylum applicants. This resulted in a new type of family separation where families remained in Mexico as they sent their children across the border alone (Politico).

Regardless of administration, applying for asylum is not as simple as walking up to the border. Asylum seekers must somehow get into the U.S. to claim asylum, which may involve crossing multiple countries and a militarized border, and prove that they meet the criteria of being a refugee. The majority of cases are denied (NYT). By February of 2020, most asylum seekers who were granted relief waited more than 930 days, and are incarcerated in detention centers while their case is processed. Individuals who wait in detention are five times less likely to secure legal counsel for their cases (American Immigration Counsel). Asylum seekers who find a way to bypass detention still aren’t authorized to work in the United States, making it impossible to earn a legal source of income (NOLO). Children who cross the border alone are imprisoned by Customs and Border Protection. In early May, U.S. officials held over 22,500 refugee children in custody (BBC).

With the new provisions, some migrant camps in Mexico are finally starting to empty (Reuters). Whether these migrants will be granted asylum is yet to be seen since most cases are denied. Salvadoran, Guatemalan, and Honduran people have their asylum cases approved at rates much lower than the average of 35% (Seattle Times). That means two out of three people who tell immigration authorities their life would be in danger in their home country because of a social group or identity they belong to are forced to return to those very conditions.

We must advocate for individuals who are fleeing violence and offer a safer path to survival. Some of the new protections that are granted by the Biden administration are a step forward, but we need to continue to offer protections to individuals who are fleeing dangerous conditions. Amnesty International argues that “the people are not the problem. Rather, the causes that drive families and individuals to cross borders and the short-sighted and unrealistic ways that politicians respond to them are the problem” (Amnesty International).

Key Takeaways

The Justice Department recently reversed the Trump Administration policy barring individuals from applying for asylum due to domestic violence or gang violence.
The process of applying for asylum is much harder than the media and lawmakers make it out to be, and the majority of applications for asylum are not approved.
Guatemalan, Honduran, and Salvadoran asylum applicants are less likely to have their applications approved than asylum seekers from other countries.

12/9/2020 | Amplify mental health resources for immigrants.

10/5/2020 | Protect undocumented Americans.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon | Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

Nicole Cardoza 6/10/21 Nicole Cardoza 6/10/21

Support immigrants beyond food.

It’s hypocritical to consume Asian or Asian-American cultural products and then refuse to defend Asian communities in the U.S. – or worse, exhibit open hostility against them. At the same time, we shouldn’t predicate supporting immigrant communities on enjoying their food, especially since the reason why so many Asian immigrants work in restaurants is itself a product of American racism.

Happy Thursday, and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. June is Immigrant Heritage Month. In its honor, today Andrew takes us through the history of Asian immigration and the relationship between food and belonging that persists today.

Thank you for keeping this independent platform going. In honor of our anniversary, become a monthly subscriber on our website or Patreon this week and we'll send you some swag! You can also give one-time on Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), PayPal or our website.

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Learn how the “lo mein loophole” in racist immigration laws led to the creation of Chinese restaurants in the U.S.
Read about the history of Asian-American radical organizing.
Support organizations that advocate for Asian immigrant wellbeing, like Asian Defense Fund, Sisters in Self-Defense, Soar Over Hate, and PALMS.
Donate to mutual aid funds that support immigrant communities near you, like Oakland Workers Fund, Restaurant Worker Mutual Aid Boston, and Pittsburgh Restaurant Workers Aid.

GET EDUCATED

By Andrew Lee (he/him)

After a publicized wave of anti-Asian attacks, a catchy phrase popped up on protest signs and social media accounts: “Love us like you love our food.” From anime to K-dramas and from sushi to sesame chicken, non-Asian Americans now love the culture from various East Asian countries – or what they imagine it to be, at least. Many of those who enjoy consuming East Asian food, music, and movies are nowhere to be found when Asian people’s lives are on the line. If you love a certain kind of food you should love the people who make it.

1882’s Chinese Exclusion Act banned almost all Chinese people from entering the United States; it was repealed only in 1943, when the U.S. began allowing a whopping 105 Chinese immigrants per year. The American Federation of Labor, today one half of the AFL-CIO union coalition, was headed in the 19th century by Samuel Gompers, a raging racist who once asked, “Can we hope to close the flood-gates of immigration from the hordes of Chinese and the semi-savage races?” (NPR). San Francisco forced Japanese students to use segregated schools. A Japanese and Korean Exclusion League had members nationwide (History) President Theodore Roosevelt used a State of the Union address to disparage “undesirable immigrants” from China. With Chinese immigrants already banned, the 1917 Immigration Act banned immigration from almost the entirety of the rest of Asia (Al Jazeera).

But from 1915, Chinese people were able to secure a visa to work as restaurant employees. Chinese people previously worked largely in laundries, since racist attitudes prevented their employment at white businesses. After this change to immigration law, the number of Chinese restaurants quadrupled. That’s not to say it became easy for Chinese restaurant workers to immigrate: they had to find a way to convince immigration authorities they were major investors in a “high grade” eatery. Upon arrival, Chinese restaurant workers were legally prohibited from residing in all-white neighborhoods (Menuism). Regardless, Chinese people pooled money and used family and community ties to acquire merchant visas and began forming the Chinatowns of today. Wealthy white people began taking “slumming tours” of growing Chinatowns to gawk at their “depravity” and eat Chinese food (NPR).

Today, restaurants are the most common immigrant-owned business in the U.S. (CNBC). Facing “discrimination in hiring because they often speak limited English or because of their immigration status” are factors that contribute to the fact that today, “immigrants are for more likely to start their own businesses than U.S.-born residents” (NJ, AP).

Many respond to anti-immigrant sentiment by listing all of the good things immigrants give to the United States: “railroads,” “beef,” “perspectives, ideas, and sweat” (Huff Post), or “ethnic” restaurants, food trucks, and buffets. This frames immigration as an instrumental good, valuable only insofar as it provides benefits to the American-born. In this narrative, American citizens are full-fledged human beings while immigrants are just a potential American asset, like highways natural gas, or fighter jets.

But you should be active in the movement against Asian people getting stabbed (ABC) and spit on (Yahoo) and killed (CBS) whether you like General Tso’s chicken or not. We don’t think Polish people should have civil rights because of the quality of pierogies or that the wellbeing of Swedish-Americans depends on our passion for the IKEA food court. Anglo-Americans don’t get safety in the United States because we all love their pot roasts. Anglo-Americans’ rights and liberties aren’t contingent on the rest of us being pot roast aficionados because the United States was created to secure the rights and liberties of English colonists. In a way, this is fortunate, because, in my opinion, pot roast just isn’t that good.

LeRon Barton wrote, “I have come to the unfortunate realization that Blacks aren’t meant to be people, just vessels of entertainment in our society. We are looked at as hollow and only possessing culture that is meant to be enjoyed, eventually poached, and finally discarded” (Good Men Project). Similarly, immigrant communities and communities of color in general have been forced into precarious or menial jobs by racist and xenophobic attitudes and practices. Many immigrants’ salaries depend on serving white Americans. Their wellbeing as people should not be based on their ability to serve the enjoyment of white America, as well.

Key Takeaways

Non-Asian people who consume Asian products should support Asian communities under attack in the U.S.
Non-Asian people who don’t use Asian products should also be in solidarity. Support for an immigrant community shouldn’t depend on them serving you things you enjoy.
Many immigrants work in the restaurant industry because of our racist history.

2/15/2021 | Advocate for Black immigrants.

12/9/2020 | Amplify mental health resources for immigrants.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 3/1/21 Nicole Cardoza 3/1/21

Support unaccompanied minors.

One category of immigrants that is often overlooked in the larger conversation about immigration is unaccompanied minors. The term refers to youth who are under eighteen years old, undocumented, and have no parents or legal guardians in the United States (National Immigrant Justice Center). They also are the students who don’t get to join the high school soccer team because they have to work a full-time job. They are the hard workers who have to choose between earning a diploma and paying their rent. Every day, they are faced with making decisions about whether to go to school and reach their academic potential or go to work to provide for themselves and their families back in their home countries.

Happy Monday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. It's a new month and I'm excited for the possibilities it holds. Today, Sergio joins us with his personal narrative, urging us all to do more to support unaccompanied minors in our communities.

This newsletter is a free resource and that's made possible by our paying subscribers. Consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website, PayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. Thank you to all those that support!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Volunteer at your local high school to mentor unaccompanied minors through high school and into college.
Donate to organizations that provide free legal assistance to unaccompanied minors like Kids in Need of Defense.
Write letters to your local representatives to provide more funding and resources at majority Latino high schools.

GET EDUCATED

By Sergio Rodriguez (he/him/el)

Most unaccompanied minors are from Central America, particularly El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras. In 2018, 49,100 unaccompanied minors arrived in the United States. In May 2019, 11,500 more crossed the U.S.-Mexico border (Migration Policy Institute). Most of them leave their home countries to escape political violence, gang violence, and extreme poverty. Because of U.S.-driven instability in Central America, it can be hard to disentangle one of these reasons from another. For me, it was a mixture of all three.

I came to the United States from El Salvador at the age of seventeen. The decision to leave my home country was incredibly difficult and complex. In El Salvador, my parents supported five children on poverty-level wages. When I was five, I spent early morning hours under that never-ending blue sky farming volcanic soil with my dad for five dollars a day. That money went right to my mom to try and satisfy our always hungry stomachs.

As I got older, it became more and more difficult for my parents to support us all. In El Salvador, due to a compounding mix of violence, unemployment, and job scarcity, it is increasingly difficult for young people to stay motivated to get through school and into the workforce (OECD). I knew that if I wanted a better future for myself, one where I could realize my full potential and meet my most basic needs, I would have to leave my country.

I decided to come to the United States alone. I left with nothing more than my wallet, three shirts, a pair of jeans, a pair of shoes, and a water bottle. The wallet contained my high school ID card, my passport, letters from friends and family, and memories; no money.

I traveled through Guatemala with a small group of people. We hitched rides and took buses to get to Mexico. We crossed the U.S.-Mexico border and immediately got arrested and put into a youth detention center. After being released and connecting with my long-distant aunt, I got my first job. My first paycheck was a hundred dollars. I had never had so much money in my entire life; I was excited. Then the bills started piling up.

To pursue my right to stay in this country, I found and paid for a lawyer. Because I am an unaccompanied minor, I had no parental support. My aunt was living her own life, and while I was able to rent a bedroom from her, that was the extent of our relationship. I paid for my legal fees, rent, food, and sent money back to feed my family by working more than fifty hours a week at a restaurant all through high school. This often meant sacrificing things for myself. I ate a lot of fruit because it was cheaper than buying meat, bread, or beans. I spent my first Boston winter sloshing through snow and ice each night after my shift ended at midnight without a winter coat or boots shivering the whole way home.

My high school grades were far from exemplary. I struggled to pay attention in class because I was always tired, my stomach always rumbling, my thoughts easily drifting to the next impending crisis. It would have been so easy to drop out, to disappear into the background. If you are undocumented, you probably have an immigration story just as harrowing and difficult as mine. Some of it I talk about, more of it, I don’t.

Approximately 125,000 undocumented immigrant students like myself reach high school graduation age each year. However, only ninety-eight thousand actually graduate. The other twenty-seven thousand students exit early from high school and, in my experience, these students are most likely unaccompanied (Migration Policy Institute). (Accurate data about unaccompanied minors is nearly impossible to come by because of our often under-the-radar existence.)

Without the support of mentors, I would be one of those twenty-seven thousand young people who leave high school only to drift into the shadows and operate on the edge of legality to try and chase my dreams. Unaccompanied minors are kids. They deserve everything any child deserves, especially a full-time education where they are not pressured to choose between school and survival.

An unaccompanied student in high school has the same responsibilities as an adult except that the adult doesn’t have to attend school while working full time, paying bills, buying food and clothes, and paying for legal representation. Immigration court is the only court system in the United States where you are not guaranteed a lawyer, even as a minor. Maybe you remember hearing those horror stories about kids going to court alone (The Atlantic). It’s all true; we all do. Being unaccompanied is a full-time adult and adolescent existence that constantly forces children to make hard, grown-up decisions.

We need to overhaul our system to support unaccompanied minors both in the legal system and in the community. We need to reform our immigration court structure to guarantee all defendants a lawyer. We need mental health support in schools, especially bilingual and bicultural counselors who can help students process the trauma of independent migration. We need a social safety net that includes unaccompanied minors to ensure they have safe housing, food, and clothes whether or not they have an income. Finally, we need adults who support us—people who can mentor, tutor, and believe in our capabilities—so that we get the chance to be kids before becoming adults.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Unaccompanied minors are children seeking education, safety, and a future in the U.S.
Unaccompanied minors are not guaranteed legal representation and have to find lawyers and pay legal fees
Unaccompanied minors are often left out of immigration conversations and deserve the same opportunities and paths toward citizenship as DACA and DREAMers

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 2/15/21 Nicole Cardoza 2/15/21

Advocate for Black immigrants.

Last week, the Biden administration deported 72 people, including a two-month-old baby and 22 other children, back to Haiti (The Guardian). Advocates for immigrants approximate that over 900 Haitians have been deported in the weeks prior (Washington Post). This, paired with other recent efforts that disproportionately impact Black immigrants, has spurred advocates to call for accountability on the racial disparities in an unjust system.

Happy Monday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. We're drawing attention to the work of several Black-led organizations that are highlighting the racial disparities in our immigration system. Follow their work and amplify within your networks.

Thank you all for your contributions! This newsletter is made possible by our subscribers. Consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Donate to the Black Immigrant Bail Fund in their mission to eradicate the mass incarceration of Black immigrants.
Act for immigrants from Mauritania, sign onto a letter calling for their protected status. Learn more about why immigrants from Cameroon also require protected status.
Follow and support these Black immigrant advocates and organizers: @HaitianBridge @UndocuBlack @OfficialBLMP @BAJITweet.
Action items provided by the Movement for Black Lives.

GET EDUCATED

By Kashea McCowan (she/her)

Haiti is in the midst of roiling political turmoil. Its president, Jovenel Moïse, is refusing to step down after opposition called for him to step down on February 7 (The Guardian). The United Nations, the Organization of American States, and the Biden Administration all support his plan to remain in office until 2022. However, as protests mount, citizens and human rights activists are worried about the people’s safety.

Similar unrest threatens other Black immigrants being targeted by ICE. Over 40,000 immigrants from Cameroon are at risk of deportation while the country reels from multiple ongoing conflicts. Activists call for the government to offer these immigrants Temporary Protected Status, abbreviated as TPS (Clinic Legal). A similar effort is underway to protect Black Mauritanian immigrants, who are in fear of returning to a country with rampant “police violence, slavery, human trafficking, genocide, restrictions on free speech and association, discrimination in education and access to citizenship and identity documents, and racism and repression” (Ignatian Solidarity Network).

Furthermore, advocates emphasize that these expulsions are happening amid the pandemic, rising unemployment, and just weeks after the Biden administration pledged to improve immigration policies in their first 100 days. On Friday, the administration announced that they would allow approximately 25,000 migrants who have been waiting for months in Mexico under a program called the Migrant Protection Protocols, or MPP, to enter the U.S. as soon as next week. Lawmakers expressed concern that ICE is “disparately targeting Black asylum-seekers and immigrants for detention, torture, and deportation” (Washington Post).

“

It is unconscionable for us as a country to continue with the same draconian, cruel policies that were pursued by the Trump administration.

Guerline Jozef, Executive Director of Haitian Bridge Alliance, for The Guardian

There’s historical data that shows the disparities that Black immigrants face. Although most media attention on immigration centered on the Latinx community, RAICES Texas found that 44% of families in detention during the pandemic were Haitian (RAICES Texas). While 7% of non-citizens in the U.S. are Black, they make up a full 20% of those facing deportation on criminal grounds, even though there’s no evidence that Black immigrants commit crime at greater rates than other immigrants or U.S-citizens (Black Alliance for Just Immigration). While detained, Black immigrants are six times more likely to be sent to solitary confinement (RAICES Texas).

Black families are not just being detained more often, but ICE also makes it more difficult for them to be released. The bond system allows some immigrants in detention to be released if they can pay thousands of dollars in fees. RAICES Texas, which runs a fund that pays for bail on immigrants’ behalf, found that between June 2018 and June 2020, they paid $10,500 per bond payment, on average. But bonds paid for Haitian immigrants by RAICES averaged $16,700, 54% higher than for other immigrants (RAICES Texas).

Last week, several Black activist groups created Black Immigrant Advocacy Week of Action, calling on the Biden administration to recognize and address systemic anti-Black racism in how the government treats immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers. Let’s carry that work forward and continue to advocate for Black immigrants.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

The Biden administration is deporting Black immigrants, mainly Haitian, at a time of significant political unrest both here in the U.S. and abroad
Black immigrants are disproportionately targeted for deportation and detained
The efforts of the Biden administration to improve immigration in the U.S. may be racially-charged, and Black advocacy organizations are calling for accountability

10/5/2020 | Protect undocumented Americans.

9/17/2020 | Abolish ICE.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 12/1/20 Nicole Cardoza 12/1/20

Fight inhumane medical care at ICE facilities.

As of November 11, 2020, the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement have deported six of the women who came forward with claims of having been coerced into sterilization at Irwin County Detention Center in Georgia and will potentially deport at least seven others, says NBC. Dawn Wooten, a registered nurse who previously worked at the detention center, came forward in September, alleging that forced sterilization procedures were widespread at Irwin. Read more about this case in our previous newsletter on the subject.

Happy Tuesday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily! Can you believe it's already December? Because 'tis the season, you can now gift the Anti-Racism Daily to a friend. It's pay-what-you-wish and I'm happy to send a holiday greetings at no cost too – just reply to this email.

Today we're rallying around the ongoing atrocities happening at ICE detention facilities. This email, written by Bianca, focuses on inhumane medical care, but it's just one of many reasons to take action.

This free, daily newsletter is made possible by our generous group of contributors. Support our work by making a one-time gift on our website or PayPal, or giving monthly on Patreon. You can also Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). To subscribe, go to antiracismdaily.com. You can share this newsletter and unlock some fun rewards by signing up here.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Stay informed by following the ACLU, which regularly updates ICE violations by going here.
Stand up against ICE by signing this petition by the ACLU here.
Donate to the Immigrant Defense Project here.

GET EDUCATED

By Bianca Gonzalez (she/her)

Jackelin (who asked to be identified by her middle name) is a 33-year-old Hondorian immigrant and mother of five who is married to a US citizen. She has been living in the U.S. for more than five years. Jackelin was one of the 16 women who wanted to testify against Dr. Amin after receiving care four months prior. After coming forward, she was “scheduled for a … deportation flight, until a last-minute order came for her to remain at the rural Georgia facility.” (LA Times)

Even though, according to ice.gov, “it is against ICE policy to initiate removal proceedings against an individual known to be the immediate victim or witness to a crime,” ICE has taken that same action in light of recent legal pursuits.

Yanira, who has been a detainee for about a year, said after almost boarding the deportation flight, said that “they used to take their sweet time on deporting women, letting us stay here extra time to make us learn their lesson,” until the whistleblower came forward. “Then [nearly] everybody started getting deported so fast, everyone who’d had surgeries or something performed on them. There’s only a few of us left in here” (LA Times).

Columbia University law professor Elora Mukherjee is currently working with several of the detainees. She believes that “ICE is destroying the evidence needed for this investigation” by targeting these women for deportation (The Hill). While the women who have already been deported or who will be deported before they have a chance to speak with legal professionals might still be able to serve as witnesses in a case, those working on the issue will have an increased difficulty at maintaining contact.

Moreover, one report that looked into the death of 18 detainees from 2012 to 2015 found that “substandard care was evident in 16 out of 18 deaths, and subpar care contributed to the deaths of at least 7 of these individuals” as well as finding “numerous incidents of substandard and dangerous medical care,” which included “sluggish emergency responses” as well as “failure to follow up on symptoms that required attention” and “severely inadequate mental health care (Freedom for Immigrants).

Advocates have been expressing concerns over ICE practices for years. Eleven different independent human rights monitoring bodies have sent formal complaints to the US government over the past few years, expressing concerns for human rights violations at the Irwin County Detention Center and the Stewart Detention Center, which is also in Georgia run by a for-profit corporation (Aljazeera).

In May 2018, Project South and the Penn Law Transnational Legal Clinic sent a letter to the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR), citing extensive use of solitary confinement as a form of punishment and control, exploitation of immigrants’ labor, extremely negligent medical care, poor sanitation, denial of due process, and race-based discrimination as their evidence (Aljazeera).

While the neglect at ICE detention centers in Georgia is devastating and needs to be addressed immediately, other states are taking steps to improve conditions at their detention centers. Texan Congresswoman Veronica Escobar came together with Representatives Jason Crow, and Sylvia Garcia introduced the End Transfers of Detained Immigrants Act on November 20th, 2020 (Escobar).

This bill was introduced as a companion to Senators Michael Bennet and Jeff Merkley’s bill, the End Transfers of Detained Immigrants Act, released in late September 2020. It immediately prevents ICE from transferring immigrant detainees between ICE facilities or to any prison during the pandemic, as well as immediately releasing detainees whenever social distancing according to the CDC’s recommendations was not possible (Bennet). Read Bennet and Merkley’s bill here.

While we’re making progress in the fight for immigration reform in America when it comes to developing policies that protect human rights, we have more than enough evidence of medical negligence and abuse in detention centers to advocate for the immediate widespread release of detainees and to advocate for defunding ICE.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

The detainees who came forward claiming to have received medically unnecessary procedures by doctors have become targets for deportation.

States are making strides to advocate against inhuman practices at ICE detention centers, but we still need reform at the federal level.
ICE has an extensive history of medical neglect.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 10/5/20 Nicole Cardoza 10/5/20

Protect undocumented Americans.

Happy Monday!

We are 29 days from the election, and it's critical to remember how many voices deserve to be heard at the polls. Today, Jami calls us to action to protect undocumented immigrants here in America (and around the world), and provide sanctuary no matter where we live.

As always, you can support the newsletter by giving one-time on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on Patreon. Thank you for your support.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Protect your community and know your rights. Check out United We Dream’s (@unitedwedream) Deportation Defense toolkits for undocumented immigrants and allies.
If you witness an ICE raid or spot them in your community, call the MigraWatch Hotline at 1-844-363-1423. This will spread the word and keep others safe.
RAICES’s (@raicestexas) Take Action list provides many ways you can support—from tweets to petitions to donations to starting conversations with your family.
Donate to your local immigrant mutual aid network or to organizations like UndocuBlack

GET EDUCATED

By Jami Nakamura Lin (she/her)

As we reach the last weeks of the presidential race, the Trump administration, hoping to persuade voters with a strong “law and order” message, is preparing immigration raids in sanctuary cities, according to the Washington Post. On September 24th, Immigration Control and Enforcement (ICE) officials announced that they arrested over 500 people within a few days (LA Times). Across the country, undocumented immigrants and activists in the targeted cities, including Philadelphia, are getting their communities ready (Philadelphia Inquirer). In the 2018 fiscal year (the most recent year combined data is available), ICE and Border Patrol deported over 337,287 undocumented immigrants from the interior United States (Pew Research Center). This number is separate from people apprehended while attempting to cross the border; these were people who had built lives here.

For those of us who are documented citizens, we can’t understand the pervasive fear, stress, and anxiety that goes along with being undocumented. In a New York Times podcast, an undocumented mother from Nicaragua explains to the host: “Sometimes I cry… you’re like, oh, my God, what I did bad? Just staying in a country where I want to feel safe? I don’t know. I don’t know. Right now, I’m in my car talking to you, and I know, when I get through that door, I have to turn off that light and stay in my room. Why?” (NYTimes The Daily)

The woman goes on to describe the way she and her family live when there are rumors of immigration crackdowns: never opening the door, only using a small light, parking in a neighbor’s space instead of their own. Even if the threat never materializes, fear is a powerful tool, one that this administration wields like a hammer to keep undocumented Americans underground, unable to access basic needs like health care during the pandemic (NYTimes). While living in a sanctuary city can be safer for undocumented Americans, due to local protections, it can never be—or feel— truly safe.

The term sanctuary city, in fact, has no specific legal or government-defined meaning. “Lots of people use the unofficial term “sanctuary city” to refer to local jurisdictions (not just cities but counties and sometimes states) that don’t fully cooperate with federal efforts to find and deport unauthorized immigrants,” explains Dara Lind, in a useful primer on the history and context of sanctuary cities at Vox. “If that sounds vague, that’s because it is, and it gets at the tension between federal policy and local law enforcement generally used to carry out those laws.”

Most of us have a limited view of undocumented Americans—often because of the narrow, biased single narrative that our government and media push: Mexico, border crossings, DACA. In the new book The Undocumented Americans, author Karla Cornejo Villavicencio (the first undocumented student to graduate from provides a nuanced, deeper context, pushing back on the limited narratives we usually see. “This book is for everybody who wants to step away from the buzzwords in immigration, the talking heads, the kids in graduation caps and gowns, and read about the people underground,” she writes in her introduction. “Not heroes. Randoms. People. Characters.”

As she says, undocumented Americans are not a monolithic block. An estimated 619,000 Black undocumented immigrants are residing in the United States (Pew Research Center). They are more likely than non-Black undocumented immigrants to be deported. “Although Black immigrants comprise just 5.4% of the unauthorized population in the United States, they made up a striking 10.6% of all immigrants in removal proceedings between 2003 and 2015,” reports the Black Alliance for Just Immigration. For more information, read interviews with undocumented Black Americans at ThinkProgress and the Atlantic.

If you or your family are (or have ever been) undocumented and want to share your experiences, feel free to share your experience at submissions@antiracismdaily.org; we will not share identifying details.

We can help provide sanctuary no matter where we live. United We Dream (the largest immigrant youth-led organization) states: “In a sanctuary… members of that community are united and prepared to protect immigrants from deportation forces… are united against police brutality... [Sanctuary spaces] are places in which the dignity and integrity of every individual as a human being is respected and preserved” (UWD Here to Stay Toolkit). We need to work to ensure that our actions are guided by such principles.

Part of that is becoming more intentional in thinking about how we privilege citizenship, and what barriers our communities, often unintentionally, present for undocumented people. Some of that means expanding our definitions: in one case, Black students discovered that they weren’t eligible for the few college scholarships open to undocumented students because they weren’t Latinx (The Atlantic). Often, it means asking ourselves how welcoming our spaces are for undocumented people. I used to work for a public library—an institution that prides itself as being for everyone— but at libraries like mine, you need identification, a discriminatory policy that prevents many undocumented people from receiving our services (Time). Undocumented Americans pay billions of dollars in local, state, and federal taxes per year (Institute on Taxation and Economic Policy), but they are not able to receive many of the benefits they’re paying for.

Lastly: remember that the dehumanization of undocumented Americans didn’t start—and won’t end—with Trump. ICE, deportations, and border camps existed under the Obama, Bush, and Clinton administrations as well (NYTimes). Our immigration policies have been discriminatory since their implementation. We can fight for better policies, but we need to always remember that communities and people can provide sanctuary in ways that laws cannot.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

In the 2018 fiscal year, 337,287 undocumented immigrants were deported from the United States (Pew Research Center).
Black undocumented immigrants are more likely than other undocumented immigrants to be deported (Black Alliance for Just Immigration).
Undocumented Americans pay billions of dollars in local, state, and federal taxes per year (Institute on Taxation and Economic Policy).
The dehumanization of undocumented Americans didn’t start—and won’t end—with Trump. We need to support them no matter who is president.

RELATED ISSUES

9/17/2020 | Abolish ICE.

8/10/2020 | Respect the relationship between name and identity.

6/17/2020 | Analyze representation in media.

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Nicole Cardoza 9/17/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/17/20

Abolish ICE.

This is the third time I've referenced forced sterilizations in our newsletters over the past two weeks. And this time it's with a new and harrowing story. It's heartbreaking to see how our history keeps repeating itself, and the lasting implications of generations of violence against communities of color. This story is still developing, but our persistent action will ensure this conversation doesn't fade away. The violence that's been happening at these camps are an act of genocide.

If you're enjoying these newsletters, consider making a contribution to support our work. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Sign United We Dream’s petition to release immigrants and asylum‐seekers at detention centers.
Support the GoFundMe of Dawn Wooten, a Black single mother of five who risked her job and safety as a whistleblower.
Call your senators and urge them to defund ICE, which operates under DHS.
Follow and support the voices that have been telling us about the atrocities happening at detention centers: Project South, Georgia Detention Watch, Georgia Latino Alliance for Human Rights, and South Georgia Immigrant Support Network

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

This week, a whistleblower filed a complaint with the Department of Homeland Security’s Office of the Inspector General about “medical neglect” practiced at an ICE facility in Georgia. Dawn Wooten, a nurse at the Irwin County Detention Center (ICDC), reported that the facility was underreporting COVID-19 cases and not correctly testing or protecting staff and detainees (The Intercept). She also reported that the immigrants are being subjected to a high rate of hysterectomies without “proper informed consent” (The Intercept).

“I became a whistleblower; now I’m a target. But I’ll take a target any day to do what’s right and just, than sit and be a part of what’s inhumane.”
Dawn Wooten

Before we continue, I think it needs to be made clear that the allegations of medical neglect during a global pandemic alone should be enough for us to call for change. The forced separations of families are enough to call for change. In fact, the fact that these detention centers even exist is more than enough for me. We need to abolish ICE for the system itself, not just because we're hearing more allegations about forced sterilizations.

The latter allegation in particular has spurred lawmakers and advocacy groups into action. Organizers of the complaint, along with Wooten, include Project South, Georgia Detention Watch, Georgia Latino Alliance for Human Rights, and South Georgia Immigrant Support Network, and consists of the voices of detained immigrants that have “reported human rights abuses including lack of medical and mental health care, due process violations, unsanitary living conditions” since 2017 (Project South). They've been rallying to close this facility – and others – for years, and detainees have specifically complained about the rough treatment from the same gynecologist that's accused (AJC).

168 members of Congress sent a letter urging DHS Inspector General Joseph Cuffari to investigate the allegations (Congresswoman Jayapal website). They're demanding to know the status of the investigation by September 25th (NPR).

These allegations are horrifying. And, these allegations are nothing new. As we discussed in two newsletters over the past two weeks, our country has a history of medical violence, particularly against women and women of color. These procedures are sexist, xenophobic, racist, and ableist, and often homophobic. And they’re an act of violence against marginalized people, many of whom rely on the same institutions for their protection.

To understand this, we have to start with eugenics, the practice of improving the human species by “breeding out” disease, disabilities, and other characteristics from the human population (History). The concept gained traction in the U.S. in the early 1900s with the creation of the Race Betterment Foundation, led by John Harvey Kellogg – yes, that Kellogg (History). Through their “registry” of “pedigree” status and a series of national conferences, they promoted the idea that to improve the country, we needed to preserve the racial status of those that inhabit it (History). This meant that people that did not fit this category – including immigrants, Black people, Indigenous people, poor white people, and people with disabilities – needed to be maintained.

Via CNN: Eugenics had won such mainstream acceptance that Americans competed in "fitter families" contests at state fairs during the 1920s.

From this, 31 states sanctioned sterilizations. Many were presented to individuals as “protective” measures to prevent their “undesirable” traits from passing to others. But many more were nonconsensual, performed when patients believed they were receiving other forms of care (The Conversation). And although the programs initially targeted men, they quickly evolved to focus on women and women of color – particularly as the country began to desegregate.

From 1950 to 1966, Black women were 3x more likely to be sterilized than white women, and more than 12x the rate of white men (The Conversation). Hospitals in the South let medical students practice unnecessary hysterectomies on Black women, a practice so common it was given the euphemism “Mississippi appendectomies” (The Cut).

The U.S. Indian Health Service (IHS) applied forced sterilized over 3,000 Indigenous women in the U.S. in 1973 and 1976. A study from two years earlier found that at least one in four Indigenous women had been sterilized without consent (Minn Post).

In California alone, over 20,000 people were sterilized, and were disproportionately Latinx, primarily individuals from Mexico (Smithsonian). During that time, anti-Mexican sentiment was spurred by theories that Mexican immigrants and Mexican-Americans were at a “lower racial level” than white people (Internet Archives).

Via The Conversation: A pamphlet extolling the benefit of selective sterilization published by the Human Betterment League of North Carolina, 1950. North Carolina State Documents Collection/State Library of North Carolina

By 1976, over 60,000 people were recorded sterilized in 32 states during the 20th century (Huffington Post).

Although the Supreme Court moved to end these practices in 1974, these practices are still happening. Between 1997 and 2010, unwanted sterilizations were performed on approximately 1,400 women in California prisons, which primarily targeted women of color (Fox News). A judge in Tennessee offered those incarcerated thirty days off jail time if they volunteered for vasectomies or contraceptive implants, saying that he hoped repeat offenders would “make something of themselves” (Washington Post). Ten states still require transgender people to obtain proof of surgery, a court order, or an amended birth certificate to update their driver’s licenses – and 17 states require sex reassignment surgery to update birth certificate gender markers (The Daily Beast). And there are still terrifying stories of forcible sterilizations happening on people with disabilities deemed constitutional by the courts (Rewire News).

There’s been jokes and memes floating around that we’re “officially” living in the dystopian Handmaid’s Tale. But we’re not. We’re living in the reality of the United States. And when we distance ourselves from this painful reality, we allow it to persist. As investigators race to verify these allegations, we cannot continue to allow any injustices to continue in these spaces. We must keep listening and supporting to the voices that have been shouting this to us for years – that these institutions must be dismantled. The costs are far too great.

Key Takeaways

A whistleblower filed a complaint against ICE for “medical neglect" at the detention camp she worked at, including mass hysterectomies without detainees' content
Forced sterilization was a state-sanctioned practice, often funded by the federal government, that disproportionately impacted women and women of color during the 19th century
Forced sterilizations procedures are sexist, xenophobic, racist, and ableist, and often homophobic
Unwanted sterilizations are still happening today

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Nicole Cardoza 8/10/20 Nicole Cardoza 8/10/20

Respect the relationship between name and identity.

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Happy Monday!

A couple of weeks ago, we discussed the petition against Trader Joe's and I asked you to submit stories about whether your own name has ever been challenged or questioned. In today's newsletter, Jami explains the relationship between our names and our identities and features stories submitted by our community.

As always, we appreciate any and all contributions. Consider giving one-time on our website or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION

Ask yourself what gut-level judgments you make based on other people’s names.
Make more intentional efforts to pronounce and honor other people’s names.
Learn the names and histories of Black and Indigenous activists and leaders who are alive and fighting—not just the ones who have been murdered.
Support BIPOC activists as they fight to change the names of institutions that honor racist legacies.

GET EDUCATED

By Jami Nakamura Lin (she/her)

In America, many of our institutions, schools, and organizations are named after white men with racist histories and legacies (Education Week). After facing increasing public pressure from activists after the murder of George Floyd, many of these institutions are undergoing a reckoning. Some of the outcomes initially seem positive: Congress now has bipartisan support to remove Confederate names from military bases (New York Times). But an institution’s reluctant willingness to remove a problematic name isn’t the same thing as a willingness to publicly honor and support BIPOC leaders. After years of pressure from its Black students, Louisiana State University Library finally removed the name of its segregationist former university president—but refused to rename it after the school’s first black female Ph.D. graduate, Pinkie Gordon Lane, as petitioners wished (Library Journal).

People who resist these changes often think: what is the big deal? A name is just a name. But names are powerful symbols. For a person of color, a name can be one of the most visible links to our communities and backgrounds—and also a target for racism and discrimination. A 2003 study showed that job applicants with white-sounding names received 50% more responses than those with Black-sounding names (National Bureau of Economic Research). Just a few months ago, a white male professor asked Vietnamese American student Phuc Bui Diem Nguyen to “Anglicize” her name because it sounded offensive in his language (diemquyynh on Instagram). When she refused, he made up a nickname for her; he didn’t back down until her story went viral (New York Times).

Honoring names is especially important in light of the way Black and Indigenous people have had their names and cultural identities forcibly erased by white colonizers throughout their histories. In Liseli Fitzpatrick’s African Names and Naming Practices, she writes: “European colonizers attacked and defiled African names and naming systems to suppress and erase African identity – since names not only aid in the construction of identity but also concretize a people’s collective memory by recording the circumstances of their experiences.” Indigenous lawyer and writer Christina Gray notes: “Renaming has been a critical part of settler colonialism generally, which is predicated on the erasure of Indigenous peoples, including their languages, cultures and social structures — any and all evidence of Indigenous peoples’ living presence,” (Yellowhead Institute).

As a light-skinned Japanese Taiwanese American, my experience with my name is wholly different than those of Black or Indigenous folk. And yet as a child, I too felt shame because of my middle name, Nakamura, one that made me visibly different from the people around me. It wasn’t until I was older that I began to take pride in the ways my names connect me to my family and my history. I have thought long and hard about what my daughter’s name reflects to the world (New York Times).

Our names say that we are here. Our names say that we exist, that we have always existed, even if you haven’t always seen us. And read these powerful stories we received from readers reflecting on their names. Responses have been lightly edited and condensed for space constraints.

My father is Indian, and his name is Rajiv, but after being teased all throughout his school years he decided to go by 'Neil' when he started college, and still uses that name today. He also lost a lot of his ability to speak Hindi because my grandparents were afraid that it would hinder their children's English or their acceptance in America. I'm now teaching myself the language, which got him to attempt to re-learn it too. - Anonymous

When I was born, my parents named me Ángela. But that quickly got Americanized, as whoever did my birth certificate dropped the accent over the first letter of my name. It wasn't until the age of 21 that I decided to reclaim my name: Ángela. Doing so was incredibly empowering because I felt for the first time like my truest authentic self. Some people uplifted said reclaiming my name was honorable and beautiful. Other people did not get it and did not take me seriously. Over time, I've tried to not let those comments and reactions get to me, but to be honest, it still hurts. I hope one day that all changes. -Ángela Mendez

When I came to this country my teachers called me Lah-teef, which as a little girl, I assumed was my American name. I spent 15 years introducing myself that way to folxs. My name is really pronounced Lah-tee-feh. It just demonstrates how impressionable kids are. Had my teacher just asked me how to say my name, I wouldn’t have spent almost so much of my life mispronouncing my own name. -Latiffe Amado

There was one teacher that always mispronounced my name, saying that it "just sounded so much better that way." I never felt like I could correct him myself. The power difference was too great.
-Anonymous

If immigrants from Europe felt the need to "Americanize" or "English-ize" their names in order to be accepted/assimilated into American culture, how much greater that pressure must be for those from other parts of the world. My ancestors chose to change their name in order to separate themselves from the country they left and to start anew in America. That does not give me the right to expect the same from anyone else coming to this country. -Anonymous

My entire family in Thailand calls me a Thai nickname but it's very hard for Americans to pronounce. By pure coincidence, my parents had accidentally given me a Thai name that had an English-sounding name at the beginning of it. So I started going by [that name]. I had heard it would help me be remembered on resumes and at job interviews. My mom was even so worried she asked if I wanted to legally change my name to [the English-sounding name]. But I have legally kept my full name because it's a tribute to where I came from and I don't want to erase that. -Anonymous

My name is Dilpreet, which is pronounced phonetically. It’s written the way it’s said. Yet many times when I say my name, people look at me with complete confusion and annoyance that they have to pronounce such a different name. I made it a habit to give myself a nickname like Dil or DK to make it easier for those who thought my name was too difficult. In college, I finally met classmates who positively reacted to my name and wanted to make sure they were pronouncing it right. I’ve learned that I shouldn’t have to make others feel comfortable to say and understand my name, my identity. Let them say your name. -Dilpreet Kainth

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Take the time to learn how to say our names correctly, even if at first the sounds are difficult for you.
Acknowledge that a name is not just a name— it represents a history and a community.
Understand how the ongoing denial of names connects to our country’s legacy of erasure of Black, Indigenous, and other people of color.

6/5/2020 | Breonna Taylor. Say her name. And remember it.

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