Is There Really Liberty and Justice for All?
A look into where I've been for the past several months...
I sat in the back of the courtroom as still as I could be. My stomach was in knots. I had woken before the sun, donned my black blazer, rented a car, and driven 3.5 hours to the southwest corner of our state. I’ve been to courthouses plenty of times in my life—sometimes in celebration, and other times in tears. This was no time for celebration—not for me or anyone else I would see that day.
This day, court was different.
I wasn’t the one in front of the judge; I was just there as an observer. My only job was to watch and listen, to bear witness and take notes. That day, my job was to open my eyes and tune my ears to the injustice of the world and the stories of those fleeing so much pain.
I’m not sure what people imagine immigration court looks like when they hear it described in the news as a place filled with criminals. When I arrived, I stood shoulder to shoulder with the very people I would soon watch advocate for their lives, waiting together in the security screening line and riding the elevators. I wasn’t standing next to statistics—but human beings, worthy of dignity and fairness.
What I witnessed in immigration court that day was far from the image of criminals portrayed by so many. Instead, I encountered some of the bravest people I have ever seen. Parents. Grandparents. Children. Teens. Mothers. Sons. Daughters. I watched as family after family came and went—alone, vulnerable, and defeated.
To witness a person in court is to bear witness to them in a very personal and vulnerable state. I would know. My husband and I have wept some of our hardest tears before a judge.
Every single proceeding I observed in court that day was a case for asylum. I won’t get into the legal intricacies, but to qualify for asylum means a person bears the burden of proving they have suffered past persecution or have a well-founded fear of future persecution on account of one of five protected grounds—race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group.1
Watching someone advocate for their life, their family, and their future humanizes every statistic casually tossed into news articles and splashed across headlines. Witnessing tears born of fear catches your breath as horror washes over a person's face. Everything moves so quickly, yet it somehow feels like time stands still.
Where is justice right now?
Where has the humane treatment of human beings gone?
Where is dignity and worth?
What would Jesus have done if He were walking on the earth today?
Where are YOU being invited to use your voice to defend the vulnerable?
I am up to my eyeballs learning immigration law at the moment. My work on Substack has been quiet, because every spare second I have had has been dedicated to my studies this summer. The cases I read, the articles I sift through, and the laws I’m learning about are increasingly being dismissed in this season of our country as though they are simply about dangerous criminals. That has been far from the truth of what I've witnessed.
When we put our hand over our heart and speak the Pledge of Allegiance to the United States, do we really think about the words we are saying?
With liberty and justice for all.
Do you really believe that?
What lengths would you go to defend those whom God has brought to our nation seeking freedom from oppression and crying out for justice for themselves and those they love?2
I encourage you to think hard the next time you speak those words as you lift your eyes to the flag. Because there are those in our midst—our neighbors- who have come here for the same freedoms, the same rights, the same freedom, the same safety.
What are we doing to protect liberty and justice—not only for ourselves, but for ALL?
May we be invited to open our eyes to the world around us.
May we be kind to those whom we don’t understand.
May we remember our voices matter against the injustices of the world.
May we not turn our eyes away, but choose to bear witness and stand in withness to all.
May we see others through the eyes of Love.
An asylum seeker has to meet the same definition as a refugee found here in 101(a)(42) of the Immigration and Nationality Act (INA).
Many organizations have opportunities to use your voice for the immigrants and refugees around you. Look up your local resettlement agency or immigrant justice organization and ask how you can come alongside their work. Some national organizations are listed below:
Women of Welcome (They have many local chapters you can join!)
This is amazing and vitally important work. Thank you so much for what you are doing and for sharing your story. Prayers for you and for all those yearning to be free.