Quiet as it is kept, Black immigrants are the group most likely to face arrest, deportation, and solitary confinement. This may not align with the image that many Americans have of immigrants, as news coverage frequently focuses on the experiences of Latino communities affected by these policies. As a result, the injustices they endure rarely reach the forefront of discussions about immigration. Black immigrants experience not only racism but also xenophobia, an irrational fear or hatred of foreign individuals that limits their access to resources and opportunities. Yet, they are often further marginalized by the indifference of many citizens, who assume that the challenges they face are isolated instances of injustice. This perspective stems from a fierce individualism that overlooks collective well-being. But, as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “all men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.” Therefore, we cannot afford to exclude Black immigrants from the conversation.
To be Black in America and lack citizenship is a dubious position to find oneself in. The first African people in this country were treated as chattel rather than citizens. Yet, despite all they endured, they continued to assert their freedom and their relationship to this land. Abolitionist Fredrick Douglass declared in 1853, “By birth, we are American citizens.” Four years later, in Dred Scott v. Sandford, Supreme Court Justices claimed the opposite was true. “Those imported as slaves, nor their descendants, whether they become free or not,” were considered citizens. If their ruling remained in place, Black people, simply because of their lineage, would be deprived of citizenship. However, through a series of National Colored Conventions, which began in the 1830s, Black leaders promoted the abolitionist cause. They established a platform to assert their rights as citizens and pursue equal rights. The 14th Amendment, ratified in 1868, did just that, establishing birthright citizenship and the Equal Protection Clause. Yet, this history serves as a poignant reminder of how subjective the concept of citizenship can be.
The negative perception of immigrants in American society is compounded for those who are Black. President Donald Trump once referred to Haiti and African nations as “shithole countries,” in comparison to those run by primarily white people. His brazen use of derogatory language took a strange turn last summer, when he parroted misinformation, suggesting Haitian immigrants were stealing people’s pets and eating them. This dehumanizing rhetoric sought to portray cultural differences as harmful. And while most Americans publicly brushed off the narrative, this stereotype emboldened those espousing xenophobia. In another example, Trump claimed migrants were “taking Black jobs,” presumably manual labor positions. In doing so, he fanned the flames of racism and xenophobia. Not only did he presume that Black or Latino people should perform specific jobs, but this talking point also sought to divide racial and ethnic groups. While America is a wealthy nation, the perception that resources and opportunities are so limited is often used as a wedge between groups.
Trump’s policies reflected a strong racial bias against immigrants who are Black or Brown. Sadly, those darker than a brown paper bag are still put at a disadvantage. And efforts to distract from this shared struggle persist. Since coming back in office, the president has revoked legal protective status for “532,000 people from Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua, and Venezuela.” He issued a travel ban, including the Republic of Congo and other African nations, illustrating a clear relationship between the anti-Black immigrant rhetoric and policies. Just a few short weeks ago, the administration welcomed a small group of White South African “refugees,” who claimed they faced racial persecution in the country. While reports do not support the suggestion that there was a credible threat to White citizens, this talking point became the justification for fast-tracking the group while denying access to others who waited in line. The irony wasn’t lost on the black community that Black refugees seeking asylum, such as those from Haiti, Congo, or Sudan, were not granted that same access. Instead, their travel to the country was limited, and their pathway to citizenship was strained. “One in five non-citizens facing deportation is Black.” This is reflective of the racism within our system, which not only impacts Black citizens but also those who are deprived of legal status.
The Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency (ICE) is a relatively new law enforcement agency (2003) tasked with “removal operations.” Both Republicans and Democrats have supported the expansion of their resources, though Trump has taken a hard-liner approach on family separation and mass-deportation policies. While the department claims its goal is to enforce immigration law “against those who present a danger to our national security,” it has pursued citizens who have not committed any crime or pose any plausible threat. Trump authorized the agency to target courthouses, schools, and churches. By seizing immigrants in “sensitive areas,” ICE has perpetuated a culture of fear. For instance, agents arrested a high school student, Marcelo Gomes-DaSilva, the day before he graduated, on his way to volleyball practice. In another case, Sarah Reese Jones, a political analyst, shared that her family friend, a Black woman who travels for work, was “detained for 3 hours,” because officials doubted she was a citizen, “because she had a lot of stamps on her passport.” Toni Morrison once warned that “In this country, American means White. Everybody else has to hyphenate.” And these policies reaffirm that assessment. Black people are already disproportionately stopped by police, but the ramping up of anti-immigrant policies will likely mean more unnecessary stops and interactions with law enforcement officials.
Protests broke out last weekend in Los Angeles, New York, and Texas as communities protested the administration’s immigration policies. Citizens who disapprove of mass deportations have been met with law enforcement officials in riot gear when expressing their dissent. One protester told reporters, “This is us saying you can’t do this. We won’t let you separate children from their families. And we’re going to fight back.” ICE agents often wear tactical gear and face coverings, and at other times plain clothes, making it difficult to determine whether members of the public are witnessing an arrest or an abduction carried out under the color of law. Paired with enforcement agents targeting Black and Latino immigrants, there is a feeling that this time, things are escalating. They are not just targeting those who could pose a threat to our domestic security, but also those who have applied to become citizens and are awaiting their hearings. Those with familial and community ties, as well as those living in the nation for over ten or twenty years without incident. Some are being deprived of due process. The administration has sent some immigrants to countries they’ve never visited before. Trump announced a plan to send thousands of migrants to a military prison in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.
These unpopular immigration policies have provoked resistance from the public, some of whom worry this marks a dangerous escalation of authoritarianism in the country. Trump ordered the National Guard to be deployed to California to shut down protests and assist in carrying out deportation orders, seemingly substantiating this long-held worry. While the state filed a lawsuit, a judge denied their request to stop the president’s use of military intervention in Los Angeles. It’s reminiscent of World War II era Germany when Nazis targeted Jewish people and forced them into concentration camps abroad.
As young Anne Frank wrote in her journal, “Terrible things are happening outside. At any time of night and day, poor helpless people are being dragged out of their homes.” “Families are torn apart; men, women, and children are separated. Children come home from school to find that their parents have disappeared. Women return from shopping to find their houses sealed, their families gone.”
While those implementing these policies may believe they are merely following orders, history shows that this line of thinking is often dangerous. We should consider the impact of policies on people. And in this case, separating families, removing immigrants who are trying to navigate the legal system and apply for citizenship, doesn’t make us any safer. These brutal scenes of ICE agents ripping people away from their loved ones in distress certainly don’t make America great. Research suggests that illegal immigrants are less likely to engage in criminal behavior, yet the assertion that harsher policies keep citizens safe is repeated so often, it’s like a low hum of elevator music. And whenever injustice is visited upon immigrants in general, Black immigrants are disproportionately impacted.
Still, despite all of the evidence pointing to this as a collective societal problem, some believe this isn’t their fight. However, if you believe in not just civil rights for citizens, but human rights for everyone within our borders, this fight should matter to you. In 1970, one in 100 Black Americans was an immigrant. Today, they are one in 10.” This indicates they are progressively becoming a larger slice of the black community. While some claim that what happens to Black immigrants doesn’t impact them, they’re overlooking this shared struggle that both face because of institutional racism. In a white-centered society, no Black person is safe from prejudice. It’s not a coincidence that Black immigrants have a “lower average income than all U.S. residents and all other immigrants,” and are “least likely to be homeowners.” There are structural barriers perpetuated against Black people and immigrants that place them at a unique disadvantage. That is not to say that some Black immigrants aren’t excelling, but on average, they make less money and face barriers to prosperity in America, particularly in pursuing a pathway to citizenship.
Some have used anti-Black racism present in non-Black immigrant communities as an excuse to support mass deportation. Yet, this seems like an intentional effort to justify apathy and division. There is xenophobia within the black community, just as there is anti-blackness in the immigrant community. Prejudice is not exclusive to only one group, and it should be confronted when building coalitions. However, it’s harmful to assume the presence of racism or prejudice within a group is reflective of all group members’ beliefs. Or that bigotry among some individuals justifies nonchalance toward the well-being of all its members. Phrasing immigration as only a Latino issue overlooks Black immigrants, Afro-Latinos, Black spouses, and children of immigrants. They are members of our community, our diaspora, and the hatred toward them presents a problem for us all.
Far too many people treat empathy as a limited commodity, one in short supply. But ensuring everyone in the black community is valued requires us to consider the experiences and conditions of Black people, no matter their ethnicity or nationality. Others claim that since a larger share of Latino voters supported Trump than during the last presidential election, they are victims of policies they voted for, but this, too, is a myth. Non-citizens, those subject to deportation, are not eligible to vote in presidential elections. Also, this notion that we’re only responsible for citizens within our racial and political brackets is dangerous as well — it perpetuates a transactional, rather than a genuine relationship among groups. Not only is it unfair to leave Black immigrants out of the conversation, but it also undermines the framework necessary to foster positive social change for all.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Allison Gaines' work on Medium.