News & Commentary

Ada Morales, a long-time resident of Rhode Island, became a naturalized U.S. citizen in 1995. Yet in 2009, when she was arrested by Rhode Island authorities for an unrelated state charge, Immigration and Customs Enforcement issued an immigration hold, or "detainer," against her. Explaining that an "investigation had been initiated" to determine her immigration status, ICE asked the Rhode Island authorities to keep her in jail even after her local custody ended.

Wedding bells have begun ringing out across the Sunshine State.

This piece originally appeared in Spanish at El Nuevo Herald.

Emily Herx never imagined that she could lose her job for trying to get pregnant. But after working for more than seven years as a literature and language arts teacher at a Catholic school in Indiana, she was shocked to learn that her teaching contract would not be renewed: All because the in vitro fertilization (IVF) treatment she was undergoing in an attempt to have a second child made her a "grave, immoral sinner" in the eyes of her religious employers.

When we arrived at the U.S. border, I felt relieved because I thought we were finally safe. But immigration officials took my daughter and me to a place out in the middle of nothing in Artesia, New Mexico, where we were housed in trailers surrounded by barbed wire fences and cut off from the rest of the world. I only wanted to keep my daughter safe, that's why I came to the United States. But I couldn't keep her safe, not when we were locked away for months on end in a place that is bad for children. I understand that immigration officials need to have a system for keeping track of asylum seekers like my daughter and me while we wait for our legal hearings, but I don't think putting us in jail is the right way to do it. Why are we punishing children who have done nothing wrong? The only thing we have done is seek a safer, happier place for our children. Wouldn't any mother do that for her children?

-- Former Detainee in Artesia

Serial, the pop culture podcast phenomenon, isn't just a well-produced and addictive listening experience (though it is both of those things). By questioning the validity of some criminal justice procedures and educating its listeners to ask questions, especially when someone's life is on the line, the podcast has done a great public service: Because the case of Adnan Syed is not particularly unique.

Calls for a criminal investigation into the Bush-era torture program described in the Senate report released earlier this month are beginning to mount.

This week, 22-year-old Modesto Sanchez told lawmakers of the Massachusetts Legislature about the day he and his friend rode their bikes down the street on which Sanchez lived, only to be stopped and frisked within minutes by Boston police officers. One officer asserted, "People in your hood ride bikes to shoot people." Modesto, who was 16 years old at the time, and his friend were found to be doing nothing wrong. Embarrassed, shocked, and hurt, Modesto asked for an explanation. The officer responded, "We had to stop you. You look suspicious."

You may have seen the viral video making the rounds on social media: a millionaire "Secret Santa" donated $100,000 to the sheriff's department in Jackson County, Missouri, to hand out to the less fortunate in the community. The generous donor said that this year, he wanted to give law enforcement officers an opportunity to have a positive interaction with members of the community they serve. In the video, officers record the encounters in which they seek out people in run-down cars, homeless people, and other folks who look down on their luck. Instead of giving them a ticket, they give them a thousand dollars!