US-born citizen José Ramírez, 34, is suing U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) after being arrested twice by immigration agents despite presenting his Arizona birth certificate and passport both times. The first detention occurred in 2022 outside a Phoenix grocery store; the second, in March 2024, as he dropped his daughter off at school. Each time, he was held for over 24 hours before being released without charges.
Court documents and ICE records confirm Ramírez’s U.S. citizenship and detail both incidents, which occurred during routine patrols by agents from the Phoenix Enforcement and Removal Operations unit. According to Department of Homeland Security data, over 1,500 U.S. citizens have been mistakenly detained by ICE since 2012, though advocates say the real number is likely higher due to underreporting.
Ramírez recalls the March morning clearly: the smell of his daughter’s strawberry shampoo, the squeak of her backpack zipper, the sudden grip on his arm. “I showed them my ID right away,” he says, voice steady but eyes distant. “One agent just looked at it and said, ‘This could be fake.’” He spent 28 hours in a holding cell with no access to a phone. His daughter, age 7, waited outside the school gate for over an hour before a neighbor picked her up.
Ramírez’s lawsuit, filed in U.S. District Court in Arizona, seeks damages for false imprisonment and emotional distress, and demands systemic reforms to prevent similar incidents. His case has galvanized local advocacy groups, including the Arizona Citizens’ Defense Coalition, which has begun distributing “Know Your Rights” kits to families in predominantly Latino neighborhoods. Volunteers include teenagers who’ve printed QR codes linking to digital citizenship affidavits—a quiet act of resistance stitched into everyday life.
Legal experts note that while ICE policy requires agents to verify citizenship before detention, field discretion often overrides protocol. “A birth certificate shouldn’t be negotiable,” says immigration attorney Lena Morales, who is not involved in the case but has represented similar clients. “Yet for brown-skinned citizens, it becomes a debate.” Ramírez, whose parents immigrated from Sonora in the 1980s, now carries three forms of ID at all times—along with a handwritten note from his daughter: “My dad is from here.”
The Department of Homeland Security has not commented on the pending litigation, citing ongoing review. Meanwhile, Ramírez continues to attend his daughter’s soccer games, always arriving early, always parking close to the entrance. In a nation that prides itself on birthright citizenship, his story is a stark reminder that paperwork alone doesn’t guarantee belonging. Some truths must be lived—and defended—every single day.
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