Maryland Forward Party

Imagine you get a call in the middle of your day. Someone you love has been detained. You get no explanation, no details. Hours pass. Days pass. No information arrives. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get answers. They’re just gone. 

You probably knew where this was headed before you finished the second sentence. But before you dismiss me as a bleeding-heart martyr who cares more about opening borders than protecting national security, hear me out. 

I’m not here to argue whether Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia–a Maryland resident legally in this country under a "withhold from removal” order active since 2019 who was deported to an El Salvadorian prison and has not been returned despite a clear judicial ruling that he needs to be–is a member of MS-13, or even if he should be back on American soil. 

This isn’t an immigration debate. 

If due process, constitutional rights, and judicial oversight can vanish based on the policies of people in power, what keeps you safe? If over 200 people can be flown overnight to a foreign prison known for human rights violations, disappeared without concrete evidence or governmental accountability, what protects you? 

Maybe you think it’s your citizenship, your politics, or your personal innocence that will shield you. Maybe you are already reading this as alarmist, reactionary, or over-the-top. But the stripping of rights is a slow, methodical process. It’s subtle, with loud rhetoric that divides us and splits our power while policies shift in the shadows, reshaping our rights and protections until suddenly, all at once, democratic protections disappear. 

It starts with factions, with “us versus them.” It hides behind claims of national security, demanding that you blindly follow those in power for your own protection. If you question it or fight against it, you are siding with “them,” the “enemy of the people.” Because if you cared, you’d keep quiet and comply. 

Besides, they ask, who are these “people” you’re so concerned about, anyway? Public figures label them “terrorists,” “criminals,” “thugs,” “illegals,” and “aliens,” often with no concrete evidence. The media then repeats the claims until the words alone are accepted as proof. You don’t know the names or stories of the people to challenge the stories they tell. What else do you have to go on? Why question the powerful people trying to protect you? You must not value national security. You must align with the “enemies of the state.” Maybe, just maybe, you yourself are a threat. 

We’re taught that the truth will set us free, that it will protect us. But the thing about the truth is that it’s subjective. We’re more susceptible to propaganda than we want to admit. And contrary to popular belief, memory does not typically serve us well. Once we accept dangerous rhetoric and sound bites as factual history, it becomes easy for our rights to be quietly chipped away. 

We’re already divided as the American people. We’re already in factions. We’re already started down the slippery slope. 

Turn on the TV, YouTube, or log on to any social media app and you’ll see it: Right versus left. MAGA cultist versus woke snowflake. Democratic versus Republican. Us versus them. And we’re already dehumanizing ourselves. Before we learn their names, we’re guessing which faction a person belongs to. Symbols become more important to us than stories. We have to know who is like “us” and who is like “them.” We can’t even listen to the “thems” because they’re “all” hateful, and that could never be us. 

So when an “other” gets deported overnight and “oops,” the plane was already airborne, or they’re already imprisoned abroad, who cares, right? 

Administrative error? Oh well. 

Wrong identity? They were probably guilty anyway. 

The Supreme Court demands their return? Well…

You’ve likely heard on the news that The Supreme Court ruled unanimously on Abrego Garcia’s case. The United States government was ordered to “facilitate” the return of Abrego Garcia. and, in a 2024 decision, voting 6-3, they also ruled that presidents have immunity from criminal prosecution related to acts within their “core powers,” which includes foreign relations.

So, the same court that can grant rights and then revoke them is unable to enforce rulings once someone leaves US soil, even if that person had legal protection from our government, even if there was no due process, and even if they admit his deportation was an error.

The checks of the government don’t actually seem to balance. 

Once the “others” are no longer a “problem,” how long until American citizenship can’t protect you? With how our current system is changing, your rights–or you–could vanish overnight, and our courts would be powerless to protect you. 

I’d worry this was alarmist if we didn’t have historical (and present day) examples of authoritarian regimes around the world using the same playbook. 

The most powerful people in our country literally laughed out loud when the President of the United States said that “homegrown criminals,” “the homegrowns” were next and asked the President of a foreign country to build more prisons. Trump and Bondi have openly shared with the press that they are looking for ways to expand this practice. 

And when political activism, journalism, and even peaceful forms of dissent get labeled “terrorism,” when they tell the public repeatedly that certain Americans are connected to dangerous groups from abroad, when they make a strong enough case with no evidence at all, what stops them from flying you to your new permanent residence? 

Not due process. It might still exist on paper, maybe. But it won’t be the practice any longer. Your rights will have been interpreted, manipulated, and likely just flat out ignored. It will be bent to the will of the powerful, if we don’t fight for factual history, Constitutional rights, and the laws of our land, to be remembered, to be spoken about, to be enforced. 

Maybe the media will protect you. Run your story, humanize you, rally the American people on your behalf–if your story stays visible in a flooded news cycle, of course. But will they even be allowed to speak freely by then? 

The only reason we know about the giggling in the Oval Office is because El Salvadorian media live streamed the conversation. The American press was not in the room when that conversation occurred. And when they did join, and they asked unfavorable questions (as journalists should), they were told they have “no credibility. When the public hears about “fake news” repeatedly how long until it’s accepted as the truth that the press are the “enemy of the people,” “corrupt,” or even “illegal”?

This isn’t a new playbook. 

Maybe you thought this was alarmist rhetoric in 2016, in 2020, and in 2024. Maybe you still think it is. But history proves again and again how rights slowly disappear. It doesn’t happen all at once. There’d be too much public outcry, too much spotlight. It happens gradually, quietly. Over time, though, people become tired, distracted, or apathetic. Divisions deepen as we continue to dehumanize others and algorithms promote angry rhetoric. 

And once they are done with the “outsiders,” they slowly expand inward. Suddenly, activists, journalists, political opponents, or anyone inconvenient becomes the target. And the silent consent of citizens quickens the fall of democratic values. 

Because “not us,” right? They’d never do this to “us.”

Is the stripping of the rights of all people inevitable? I can't see the future, but I’d like to believe that it’s not. 

I’d like to believe that this is our next lesson as the American people: that we can’t stay complicit as freedoms and rights disappear. Instead, we have to protect those in our communities who cannot protect themselves. We have to use our power to reclaim the duty bestowed upon us by our founding fathers. The ones who, as flawed as they may have been, separated power to prevent abuse and warned us that factions are a threat to democracy. 

I’m not a big fan of telling other people what they need to do, especially people I don’t know. I’m a big fan of my rights though, and of yours, even when we disagree on how to use them. I’m also a fan of my values, which include respecting the dignity and worth of every single human being, even those labeled as “the worst of the worst.” Because sometimes we get it wrong. And even when we don’t, to meet dehumanizing actions with more dehumanization will eventually erase the humanity in us all. 

And should we quietly comply, should we not raise our voices and assert our power, we will certainly have “no one left to speak for [us]” when the moment arrives. 

So, if you want and are able to do so, here’s something’s that I’m trying to do that you might consider, too:

• Learn your Constitutional rights. Teach them in accessible ways to the ones that you love, young and old, your coworkers, your neighbors, your friends. 
• Challenge harmful rhetoric. Reject language that labels and divides us. Fight back against an “us and them” mentality. 
• Hold your elected officials accountable. Vote. Advocate. Write letters. Speak up online and in person. Protest in whatever way feels safe and just to you. Run for office. 
• Build community. For starters, you want someone to notice if you’re disappeared. I’m not joking. But, it’s important for more reasons than that. Community is probably the most important thing we need right now, if I’m being honest. We need people to share the weight with, to remind us of our humanity, to protest alongside of, to help us remember facts and history. Create spaces where you can connect, not just online but in person, too, away from government surveillance and the reach of big tech. 
• Breathe. Deeply. Seriously, stop chest-breathing and learn to take slow, deep breaths. Snipers are trained to do it for a reason. You’ll need to stay regulated for the long-term, and it helps. 
• Take care of yourself in sustainable ways. You don’t need to run a bubble bath nightly to practice self-care. Take breaks from the news and stop scrolling in your bed at 3am. Touch grass. Seriously. Go outside. Hug your mom. Or your dog. Or don’t hug anyone if that’s not your thing. Remember to find good news, too. Hold on to your hope, your faith, your connection to the moment. 
• Be mindfully proactive. Think about your digital footprint, your language, your surroundings. Check in regularly with your loved ones so you both know each other is well, not just physically but mentally, too. 

It’s easy to feel powerless when the highest court in our nation can’t enforce its own decisions, when the media seems less likely to resist each month, and when our congress people seem to be along for the ride. But we can’t wait until we become the “other” because by then, it’ll be too late. 

It’s going to be a long fight, and we need each other. All of us.