I had to flee the US – as a foreign, Black, pro-Palestinian activist, I tick every box on Ice’s list

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An NAACP flyer campaigning for the Dyer Anti-Lynching Bill, which passed the U.S. House of Representatives in 1922, but was filibustered to defeat in the Senate. Dyer, the NAACP, and freedom fighters around the country, like Flossie Baily, struggled for years to get the Dyer and other anti-lynching bills passed, to no avail. Today there is still no U.S. law specifically against lynching. In 2005, eighty of the 100 U.S. Senators voted for a resolution to apologize to victims' families and the country for their failure to outlaw lynching. Courtesy of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP).
Some Exhibits to Come – One Hundred Years of Jim Crow
Mammy Statue JC Museum Ferris
Bibliography – One Hundred Years Of Jim Crow
Claude, age 23, just months before his 1930 murder. Courtesy of Faith Deeter.
Freedom’s Heroes During Jim Crow: Flossie Bailey and the Deeters
Souvenir Portrait of the Lynching of Abram Smith and Thomas Shipp, August 7, 1930, by studio photographer Lawrence Beitler. Courtesy of the Indiana Hisorical Society.
An Iconic Lynching in the North
Lynching Quilt
Claxton Dekle – Prosperous Farmer, Husband & Father of Two
Ancient manuscripts about mathematics and astronomy from Timbuktu, Mali
Some Exhibits to Come – African Peoples Before Captivity
Shackles for Adults & Children from the Henrietta Marie
Some Exhibits to Come – The Middle Passage
Slaveship Stowage Plan
What I Saw Aboard a Slave Ship in 1829
Arno Michaels
Life After Hate: A Former White Power Leader Redeems Himself

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By Amandla Thomas-Johnson, The Guardian

I’ve never been accused of any crimes, let alone prosecuted. My experience sums-up the draconian plight of non-citizens in the US

Cornell University buildings from above
Thomas-Johnson was a doctoral student at Cornell University (sach1tbCC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

When I arrived in the US four years ago to start my doctorate at Cornell University, I thought I’d be the last person to be hunted down by the immigration authorities. As far as I could tell, “the special relationship” meant that a British passport carried a sort of immunity akin to that enjoyed by diplomats; it was a mobility that allowed me to work, after all, as a journalist unscathed across west Africa’s restive Sahel belt for years.

Things began to fall apart after I attended a pro-Palestine protest on campus in September last year. We had brought a job fair to a standstill – because it featured booths from Boeing and L3Harris, companies that supplied Israel with the armaments it needed to carry out its genocidal campaign in Gaza. Although I was there for just five minutes, I was subsequently banned from campus, a punishment that felt like a kind of house arrest because my home was on the university’s Ithaca campus in upstate New York. While I could continue living there, I was barred from entering the university premises.

In January, as Donald Trump steamrolled into office brandishing an arsenal of executive orders targeting non-citizen student protesters, I left my home and went into hiding at the remote home of a professor, fearing the reach of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (Ice). Three months later, I self-deported to Canada, then flew to Switzerland. I was prompted to flee after a friend, who had spent time with me in Ithaca, was detained at a Florida airport – on the other side of the country – and questioned about my whereabouts. I did not return to the UK as reports that pro-Palestine journalists had been arrested there made me fearful.

I hoped my arrival in Switzerland would mark the end of my ordeal. But two weeks in, two distressing emails reached my inbox. The first was from Cornell, informing me that the US government had effectively terminated my student visa status. The second came from Google, informing me that it had “received and responded to legal process” and handed my data to the Department of Homeland Security. These emails arrived 90 minutes apart.

The quickfire emails confirmed my hunch that I had been under surveillance and that if I attempted to re-enter the US, I would likely be detained by Ice, like other student protesters. But the secrecy surrounding these procedures and the lack of due process to challenge them raised more questions than they answered.

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