ICE comes to Tennessee: violence work and abolition in the Appalachian South

ABSTRACT

By way of a case study of a key Trump-era Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) workplace raid amidst the arrival of 287(g) programs in Eastern Tennessee, this article places the violence of the carceral state in relation to the ongoing work of emancipation in the American South. It 1) reconceptualizes immigration enforcement as a key locus for intensifying the carceral state’s power via a specific form of violence work and 2) maps the manner in which horizons of abolition take shape in the shadow of this violence. The radical reimagining of immigration as the abolition of policing, detention, and borders is linked to everyday grassroots efforts that seek to counter the pervasive state violence of 287(g) policies. Distinct forms of relational care have slowed and, in some cases, halted the political dominance of carcerality, drawing upon historic emancipatory projects of Southern abolition democracy.

KEYWORDS:

• Abolition
• the carceral state
• immigration
• the South
• violence work

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.

Notes

1. See US National Mapp of 287(g) agreements @ https://www.ilrc.org/national-map-287 g-agreements

2. ‘For instance, a report by researchers at the University of North Carolina on the costs and consequences of 287(g) in that state found that the program’s first year of operation in Mecklenburg County cost $5.3 million, and in Alamance County $4.8 million. More recently, the American Immigration Council reports that Sheriff Ed Gonzalez of Harris County, Texas has announced he is terminating that county’s 287(g) agreement and will reallocate the program cost of $675,000 and put it toward other priorities, such as raising the department’s clearance rates of major crimes. Aside from operating costs such as paying personnel to carry out federal law enforcement duties, 287(g) significantly increases the risk of liability for participating jurisdictions. In one case that drew national attention, Nashville/Davidson Metro Government ended up paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to settle a civil rights case brought by Juana Villegas, a pregnant woman who was forced to labor in shackles after being arrested for driving without a license.[vi] Most observers agree that the sizeable settlement in her case played a large role in Sheriff Daron Hall’s decision to terminate Nashville’s 287(g) agreement in 2012.’ (AKIN website)

3. ‘Despite commonplace assurances by those in charge of 287(g) programs that they focus on getting rid of dangerous criminals who threaten community safety, over the lifetime of the 287(g) program nationwide, numbers show that a startling number of those deported were originally brought in on minor charges. In 2011, the Migration Policy Institute reported that a shocking half of 287(g) activity focused on people accused of misdemeanors and traffic offenses.[vii] Closer to home, a 2012 report on Davidson County’s 5-year experiment with 287(g) found that the vast majority of 287(g) deportation proceedings there (some 10,000 over the five years) were triggered by non-violent, misdemeanor crimes, many of which never even resulted in a conviction, most of them minor traffic charges.[viii] AKIN’s analysis of police-ICE collaboration in the Knox County jail indicate that, over a one-year period, 90% of people brought into the jail with ICE holds were charged with a misdemeanor, including 22% who were charged with nothing more severe than a traffic offense.[ix]In 287(g) jurisdictions, immigrant families are torn apart, business activities are disrupted, and community networks are shredded, all with little benefit but major cost to the larger community.’ (AKIN website)

4. ‘287(g) exacerbates and encourages biased policing practices. Public officials in some 287(g) jurisdictions have made overtly racist statements and have supported blatantly discriminatory practices. But infamous rogue jurisdictions like Maricopa County in Arizona or Alamance County in North Carolina are hardly the only problem. A study of Davidson County’s 287(g) program found that during its 5-year lifetime, from 2007 to 2012, racial profiling and bias based on appearance, ethnicity or language skills had affected many Metro Nashville residents at key points including police stops, at the point of arrest, and at the moment of booking. Sheriff Jones claimed that his officers “never have and never will” engage in racial profiling of Knox County residents.[xi] However, Knox County officers, like those elsewhere, are not immune to conscious and unconscious racial bias. Residents in Knox County have complained for years and continue to complain that profiling by local law enforcement officers is a problem.[xii] Of course, Sheriff Jones should express opposition to racial profiling, but his denial that there was even a challenge raises far more questions than it answers. Although Jones argued that he “won’t let things happen and get out of hand like they have in other places,”[xiii] he offered no plan to avoid civil rights abuses. Sheriff Jones’ refusal to acknowledge the potential for a problem in Knox County was, in the words of the Rev. Dr. John Butler, president of the Knoxville Chapter of the NAACP, “inconsistent with taking leadership to identify, address and train officers for the actual eradication of racial profiling.”[xiv] Sheriff Spangler should publicly articulate any efforts KCSO has undertaken to address concerns of racial profiling.’ (AKIN website)

5. ‘287(g) drives a wedge between immigrant communities and local law enforcement officers. This exacerbates vulnerabilities of already marginalized communities as immigrant victims and witnesses of crime avoid police for fear of immigration consequences. Sheriff Jones said that he understands how difficult it is to cultivate community trust, stating, “We work very hard in [minority] communities to gain that trust … and they trust us to do just what I said: be good stewards and make sure there are no shortcuts taken and make sure there are no prejudices, no biases and no racial profiling.”[xv] However, based on the Sheriff’s refusal to engage transparently with the community around 287(g), his dehumanizing “cordwood” statement following rejection of the previous 287(g) application, and his denial of the existence of a single instance of racial profiling in Knox County, we doubt that minority communities in Knox County agree that the Sheriff earned their trust. Changes both rumored and real in immigration enforcement have already heightened fear and have increased mistrust between local law enforcement and the immigrant community. Implementation of the 287(g) program and the detention bed contract have only exacerbated that divide. Sheriff Spangler should work to address the gap in community trust left by his predecessor.’ (AKIN website)

6. “ICE claims that 287(g) removes dangerous criminal immigrants by screening for immigration violations among those taken into participating jails. Similarly, Sheriff Jones stated to the press, ‘If you’re here illegally, and you’re a law abiding citizen, you’ll never know 287(g) exists.’[xvi] This point has been echoed by Sheriff Spangler, who argued, ‘If you’re not out doing something you’re not supposed to be doing, you have nothing to worry about… we’re not going to be out looking for people who are undocumented or illegal.’[xvii] However, research clearly indicates that the program acts as an indiscriminate funnel, sucking in immigrants picked up on minor charges, and putting them into deportation proceedings. In fact, Sheriff Jones appeared to concede this issue in the ‘Needs Assessment’ he submitted to ICE in February 2017 to indicate his continued desire to join the 287(g) program. This document – made public only through records requests filed by advocates – indicates that the top five reasons foreign-born people are arrested and brought into the Knox County jail under current practice do not fit the picture of a program that will only be ridding the community of dangerous criminals. Of the five leading charges, three are traffic offenses (Driving without a License, Driving without a License in Possession, Driving while Privilege Suspended) and two are offenses related to alcohol (Driving Under the Influence and Public Intoxication).[xviii] Perhaps even more telling, KCSO reports that approximately 20 immigrant prisoners per month (or 240 per year) are presently the subject of ICE detainers in Knox County. However, they estimate that under a 287(g) agreement, Knox County would turn over 1800 detainees per year (or 150 per month). This is a huge increase. Simple math says that unless KCSO has been failing to apprehend over a thousand dangerous criminal immigrants every year, they will not be able to meet this steep new quota without pulling in over a thousand non-dangerous immigrants under the new regime.” (AKIN website)

7. For additional accounts of the raid, see: Jordan (2018). ICE Came for a Tennessee Town’s Immigrants. The Town Fought Back. The New York Times. Accessed at https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/06/11/us/tennessee-immigration-trump.html on 1 May 2019; Wickendon (2018). ICE Comes to a Small Town in Tennessee. The New Yorker. Accessed at https://www.newyorker.com/podcast/political-scene/ice-comes-to-a-small-town-in-tennessee on 1 May 2019.

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Michelle Brown

Michelle Brown is Professor of Sociology at the University of Tennessee with loved ones living inside and working for the prison state. She is the author of The Culture of Punishment; the co-editor of The Routledge International Handbook of Visual Criminology, The Oxford Encyclopedia of Crime, Media and Popular Culture, and the Palgrave MacMillan Crime, Media and Culture Book Series.