Imagine this: an Iranian grandmother, who has lived in the United States legally for 47 years, married to a U.S. citizen, with no criminal record, is detained by ICE while tending to her garden in New Orleans.
Now imagine this: members of El Chapo’s drug cartel—known for orchestrating murders, trafficking operations, and hacking the FBI—have family invited into the United States under a federal administration’s policy.
Feel safer yet?
Stories like these illustrate a troubling disconnect in immigration enforcement and policy priorities. On one hand, long-term legal residents with deep roots in American communities are treated with suspicion. On the other, there are cases where individuals with ties to organized crime find pathways into the country—sometimes under the guise of cooperation or asylum.
While the details of each case matter—and should never be judged solely by headlines—they raise bigger questions about justice, equity, and security. Who gets the benefit of the doubt? Who gets detained in their own yard? And who gets a visa?
More than a debate about borders or legality, this is a test of national values: Are we protecting the vulnerable and holding the powerful accountable, or are we doing the exact opposite?
