Immigrant Rights Rally, Union Square Park, New York City, May 1, 2010
“For any lawful stop, detention or arrest made by a law enforcement official or agency of this state or a county, city, town, or other political subdivision of this state in the enforcement of any other law or ordinance of a county, city or town in this state where reasonable suspicion exists that the person is an alien and is unlawfully present in the United States, a reasonable attempt shall be made, when practicable, to determine the immigration status of the person, except if the determination may hinder or obstruct an investigation. Any person who is arrested shall have the person’s immigration status determined before the person is released” (Revisions to Arizona’s laws from SB1070 and HB2162).
Ten years ago, a Tucson police officer “lawfully stopped” me when I wasn’t doing anything.
It was the summer after I graduated from high school; college was set, classes were over, and life was goooooooood. I had started to rediscover the parts of living in Tucson, Arizona that I’d loved as a child but that just weren’t cool enough for me in my early teens: starry nights, sunsets, hikes, and the tranquility of the desert.
I remember one spot at the eastern end of Broadway Blvd. where I had my first cigarette, miles away from my father’s long nose and longer lectures. Frightened into submission by years of anti-smoking ad campaigns about additives and unfiltered cigarettes but also intensely curious, I’d visited a tobacco shop, bought rolling tobacco, papers, and filters, and headed out into the middle of nowhere to figure out what all the hype was about. It took me forever to figure how to roll the damn thing, and even longer to figure out how to do it with a filter. I lit it up, took a few puffs, and about five seconds later mistook the buzz and high heart rate for imminent lonely-wilderness-death. I got the hell back to town in a fright and promised myself I’d never do that again.
A month or so later I was back in that same spot – this time without any tobacco and with two of my friends: Maggie, whose family had come to the U.S. from Mexico several years before when her father got a job teaching at the University of Arizona, and Brian, whose family had recently moved to Tucson from Maryland.
On this warm summer night, the stars were out, the air was still and the three of us hadn’t come there to do anything but just take it all in. We had been enjoying the silence for about ten minutes when we heard the noise of a distant car. The noise grew louder, and after a few seconds it became obvious that it was traveling very fast. Not knowing who it was, we cautiously got back into the car.
Before we had any time to react, a huge SUV zoomed up and screeched to a halt just a few feet behind my little 1990 Geo Prizm. Petrified, I started the car. I couldn’t go forward because we’d run out of road, so I kicked it into reverse, and that’s when the driver of the SUV finally decided to let me know he was a police officer by turning on his roof lights. Bursts of light pierced the darkness, polluting the desert around us with eerie red and blue flashes.
The officer got out of his car, came to my window, and asked me to turn the engine off. He asked me why I had tried to get out of there so quickly, but wouldn’t hear it when I tried to explain to him that we hadn’t known it was a police car coming to scare the bejesus out of us. He told Maggie and me to get out of the car, leaving Brian – who is white – in the backseat. He took my license back to his car to run it, leaving Maggie and me to watch the cacti and shrubs around us flash red and blue, red and blue. When it became clear that though he was looking for an excuse he wasn’t going to find one, he got back into his car and drove off. Maggie and I re-joined an equally petrified Brian, who’d been afraid that the officer would find the camping knife he always kept in his pocket.
Shattered and shaking, we left not long after, and as we passed the second intersection on the way back we saw the officer’s headlights further down that road, waiting for whoever was next.
The new Arizona immigration law gives me chills because had it been in effect ten years ago, that police officer might have had the excuse he was looking for. According to the new law, anyone whom a law enforcement officer reasonably suspects is undocumented must provide proof of legal presence in the US. Even though I had a driver license, Maggie did not. And if someone else had been driving I might not have had mine either. Would the officer who was just looking for an excuse have arrested us? And although the law states explicitly that no official may “consider race, color, or national origin” when they implement the policy, is that how it’s really going to go down every time, given that in this case the two brown kids got pulled out of the car but the white kid didn’t?
I hope no one will mistake what I’m saying. I don’t believe that every law enforcement officer is a bad apple; in fact, during every other interaction I’ve had with a member of the Tucson Police Department I felt I was treated professionally if not courteously. But this incident sticks with me because the officer’s behavior seemed so predatory. When there are such officers who do this, how can we know that the training that goes into implementing this law across the state will adequately address issues like racial profiling? How can we know that every officer will recognize a driver’s license as a valid form of ID without pushing to see another form of ID?
When the rhetoric around the issue of immigration is so virulent that sometimes the distinction between documented and undocumented workers is swept away, none of us should accept such a law, because we all stand to lose from it.
A few weeks ago I was in Toronto for a family function. My dad had just arrived from Tucson, so the topic of the new Arizona law naturally came up over lunch at someone’s house. There were several Indians (Canadian and American) around my age in the room, and what struck me was that the ones from Canada knew much more about the law and its implications than the ones living in the U.S.
Given that several other state legislatures are crafting similar bills to Arizona’s SB1070, I just want to ask – what’s up with that? Do cosmopolitan American Brownz* think that they won’t be “lawfully stopped” by “reasonably suspicious” police officers? Because it happened to Maggie and me, immigrant kids from Mexico and Madras.
If I haven’t made my point clearly enough, here’s Broken Lizard to do it for me (ignore the weird editing – this was the only clip I could find):
* In case Razib has taken out a trademark, here’s the credit.
Similar thing happened to me when I was a student at ASU in Tempe, Arizona.
Here I am happily cycling down a street right next to the University, and get pulled over(!!). Why dont you have a light on your bicycle, was the excuse. (It was 6pm in June). Show me your ID. Ok sir, here it is, gave him my University and the State issued ID. He didnt find anything and had to let me go.
The problem with this whole thing is, immigration law is extremely complex, and police men cant be expected to be aware of the intricacies. What if you show him your passport/Visa, but the Visa stamp has expired – but you have a pending I485 (Adjustment of Status) application with the USCIS? You are in legal status as long as USCIS doesnt respond, but will the AZ cops know/understand this? There are many many other cases like these, which you would know of only if you are an immigrant or an immigration lawyer.
The only solution for people not yet citizens/permanent residents is to avoid travel to Arizona at all.
Because this is the US. Americans are not used to hearing, ‘Papers please’. This law is an overreach in govt. powers.
Photocopies dont suffice. It has to be original ID. (Speaking from experience).
Well known by whom? 🙂 If you are happy to pay, please stick your passport, visa, DL, social security card, EAD, I765, I20, I140, I485, labor certification in your car window. That way, no one will stop you for sure. Even if they do, they will like you even more because you are clearly legal.
Finally the Feds “leap” into action…
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_national_guard_border
My desi astronomer friends visiting Kitt Peak have always been strongly advised to carry their passports with them. And they’ve been checked. The seeds were sown long ago.
ID checks are perfectly acceptable at national borders. However, it’s ludicrous to imagine that it’s possible to effectively identify and deport illegal immigrants spread over an entire state, when it can’t be done along a border. As a deterrent, it fails, because anyone singled out for a random check is already in Arizona. It’s not only a hateful and misguided law, it’s also completely useless.
Yeah, Germany has these cutesy-pie nicknames for its instruments of state control. In a similar vein, I propose ARizona SEcurity Watch for Illegal Immigration Prevention, or ARSEWIIP. Sehr Deutsch, ja?
jyotsana, thanks for linking to that article. I haven’t read Cities of Gold, but perhaps I will when I’m in Tucson next week!
After reading this, my mother jokingly suggested that in addition to my documents I also carry along some Fair & Lovely, to which I replied that I’d rather be locked up 🙂
Sorry to say: I’m just not seeing the tragedy here.
It’s easy for me to understand the cop’s perspective:
Three people, out in the boonies, at night, doing who-can-tell-what in an area (the desert at night) where illegals are known to travel. Your car was probably spotted by a helicopter. When the border patrol DID show up, probably driving too fast, the people get in the car and try to drive away.
He pulled you guys over, checked your IDs and didn’t detain you. I don’t blame you for being scared. There’s some unsavory people out there at night and who knows who that is speeding up on you. But where was the crime? Where was the profiling and encroachment on personal civil liberties?
Is it a crime to be out in the desert at night? Of course not but since our border is basically a turnstile, the border patrol must be vigilant and pursue things which seem to add up, ie. a car parked in the middle of no where.