#48 ¿Que pasó? with Señor B - week of 2/23

The Department of Homeland Security recently admitted to detaining over 200 DACA recipients, 86 of whom have already been deported. These Dreamers, individuals brought to the U.S. as children, are required to maintain clean records and pass annual background checks to keep their legal protections.

Despite suggesting that enforcement only targets "violent criminals," these numbers tell a different story. These arrests occurred between January and November alone, suggesting the total scale of the crackdown since last year could be significantly higher.

It is deeply unsettling to watch this administration disregard established legal protections. As many of you know, I am a DACA recipient. I have seen firsthand how detainments and deportations don’t just move people; they ruin lives and tear families apart.

The narrative of "public safety" is being used to mask a broader disregard for the law and the humanity of our community.

In times like these, our greatest strength is each other. We cannot rely on shifting political promises; we have to rely on our collective vigilance. Keep up with local "Know Your Rights" workshops If you or someone you know is in a vulnerable position, reach out to community legal resources immediately. We must continue to push back against these actions and protect our community from further harm.

Please stay safe, everyone. We are stronger when we work together.

This week, news broke that Mexican Special Forces killed "El Mencho," the notorious boss of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel. The operation, which took place last Sunday, was carried out with intelligence support from the U.S. government. While the administration points to this as a victory in the fight to disarm cartels and end drug trafficking, the reality on the ground is far more cyclical. We have seen this "kingpin" strategy play out many times before: one leader is removed, a power vacuum is created, and the resulting violence often leaves working-class people caught in the crossfire.

The truth is that the power these cartels hold is not a localized Mexican issue; it is a monster fed by the United States. While we focus on the flow of drugs heading north, we rarely talk about the "iron river" of weapons flowing south. It is estimated that 70% of the firearms used by Mexican cartels originate in the U.S., a direct result of our own lax gun laws and a domestic market that profits from arming the very groups we claim to be fighting. Historically, the U.S. has a long track record of arming groups abroad to incite chaos, and this situation feels like a continuation of that same destructive pattern.

Beyond the weapons, the multi-billion dollar demand for drugs in the U.S. is frequently exploited by corporations more interested in profit than human life. If our government truly wanted to tackle substance use and curb trafficking, the focus would shift from military-style raids to the crisis at home. Real change would mean investing in universal healthcare, making medications affordable, and fully funding addiction recovery programs that prioritize healing over punishment. Until we address the systemic issues within our own borders, these high-profile operations will continue to be a temporary fix for a much deeper, more profitable problem.

We have seen this pattern of state-sanctioned neglect before, and history warns us of where it leads. Between the 1990s and early 2000s, police in Saskatoon, Canada, were known to pick up vulnerable Indigenous men, drive them to the outskirts of the city in the dead of winter, and abandon them in the freezing cold. These "Starlight Tours" often led to death by hypothermia, and for years, the victims and their families were denied any semblance of justice. This was not a series of accidents; it was a systemic practice that stripped human beings of their dignity and left them to die in the shadows.

Tragically, we saw an echo of this cruelty just last week. Nurul Amin Shah Alam, a 56-year-old Rohingya refugee who was nearly blind and spoke no English, was found dead in Buffalo, New York. He had been released from custody after authorities realized he wasn't eligible for deportation, but instead of notifying his family or lawyer, Border Patrol agents reportedly dropped him off at a coffee shop miles from his home in the middle of a winter night. Left alone, unable to see or communicate, he spent his final days lost before his body was discovered.

While the administration continues to push a narrative of "public safety," the death of a vulnerable man who came to this country seeking refuge proves otherwise. When agents abandon a disabled person in the cold without a way to get home, it is a dereliction of duty and a violation of basic human rights. If these systems cannot uphold even the most fundamental standards of human dignity, we have to face the reality that they are beyond reform. We are not just looking at "policy failures"; we are looking at a system that must be dismantled and replaced with one that actually protects the people it claims to serve.