Rights Behind the Headlines is a blog series from the ACLU of Florida that dispels misinformation and gives Floridians critical information about the most pressing issues facing our state. Read the full series at aclufl.org/rightsbehindtheheadlines.

We’re dispelling Gov. DeSantis’ claim that anything fewer than a unanimous decision by all twelve jurors is adequate enough to impose a death sentence.

Gov. DeSantis is pushing the Florida Legislature to reintroduce nonunanimous jury recommendations for the death penalty as part of the state’s response to the Parkland mass shooting. Both the governor and lawmakers who have introduced Senate Bill (SB) 450 and House Bill (HB) 555 to overturn jury unanimity are justifying these bills by relying on repeatedly-disproven claims, including insisting that the death penalty deters crime—studies not only find no evidence of this, analyses show that the crime rate in states with the death penalty are higher than the rate in states that have abolished it.

Likewise, proponents of expanding the death penalty point to advances in DNA testing in an attempt to soothe concerns about the reality of the state killing innocent people. However, many of those waiting on death row will never be able to access DNA testing. And only recently have some, like Tommy Zeigler, finally been allowed to try to prove their innocence with DNA testing after years of obstruction by the state.

This approach to death sentencing is ignorant of history, the reality of the legal system, and the difficulty of freeing an innocent person from death row.

Nonunanimous juries are a vestige of the Jim Crow era. Following the Civil War, racial segregation was codified in state and local laws to prevent Black Americans from accessing the same liberties, legal protections, and political participation as white Americans. In this spirit, nonunanimous juries were introduced in the American legal system for the sole purpose of weakening the voting power of Black jurors in favor of white jurors without appearing overtly racist in nature. This undeniable historical fact was affirmed by the United States Supreme Court opinion written by Justice Neil Gorsuch in Ramos v. Louisiana—the 2020 ruling requiring unanimous juries for guilty verdicts in criminal cases.

The implication that Florida underuses the death penalty is false.

In 2022, six years after the U.S. Supreme Court required that a jury (not a judge) find each fact necessary to impose a sentence of death in Florida capital cases, Florida still managed to sentence more people to death than any other state. Florida currently has the second-highest death row population, sitting at just over 300 people.

But there is another death penalty statistic where Florida also leads that should give great pause to anyone pushing for this bill.

Since 1973, 30 people have been exonerated from Florida’s death row—one innocent person has been freed for every three people executed in the state. This is the highest number of death row exonerations in the entire country. Most of the people exonerated were sent to death row either by a nonunanimous jury or judicial override of life imprisonment sentences, the exact policies Gov. DeSantis is pushing to reinstitute.

One of Florida’s death row exonerees is Herman Lindsey, Witness to Innocence Director. Lindsey was sentenced to death by an 8-4 jury. His case not only highlights the issue with nonunanimous juries, but shows how factors outside of DNA, including false accusations, misapplied law, and police misconduct, can send an innocent person to death row.

• Florida’s reaction to mass shootings cannot hinge on unconstitutional sentencing that is guaranteed to bring harm to innocent people, especially innocent Black men, in the state. The death penalty is cruel and faulty. Pursuing this bill only furthers the injustices that pervade our legal system.

There’s a knock at your door. It’s the police. They say they are investigating a crime and would like to ask a few questions. It’s alarming, but you want to help, so you let them in.

But what if these officers are not who they say they are?

For years, agents of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) have impersonated the police and used other deceptive tactics to gain warrantless entry into people’s homes, or lure them out — a practice that the ACLU, in collaboration with others, has challenged in court as a violation of the Fourth Amendment.

ICE’s goal is to arrest and deport undocumented immigrants going about their daily lives — working, commuting, and spending time at home with family. In pursuit of this goal, ICE has used racial profiling and intimidation tactics that instill fear and confusion in communities and stoke mistrust in the police.

Examples of ICE’s ruses include:

• Showing a photo of a random person unknown to the resident and claiming they must verify that no one in the residence fits that description.
• Representing themselves as probation officers and claiming that they are conducting a probation check, or referencing a person’s probation status.
• Tricking people into locating a family member so they can arrest them.
• Pulling over drivers on the road and asking for their license and registration, as if writing a traffic ticket.
• Posing as a civilian looking for a contractor to work on their house and making an appointment for an estimate.
• Disguising themselves as day laborers by wearing bandanas and driving a vehicle carrying a ladder.

The ACLU and co-counsel partners have filed lawsuits to challenge these practices in California and Illinois. Below, two of the clients share their experience being trapped by ICE, and the repercussions that continue today.

Tara Pixley

ICE ruses often take place early in the morning, when they can catch people as they are waking up or getting ready for work. They wear shirts or vests with the word POLICE emblazoned across, and often announce that they are “police” at the front door, without informing community members that they are ICE. That’s what happened to Alyssa Lazo,a prior DACA recipient who lives in Los Angeles. Alyssa spent 21 days in immigrant detention after ICE tricked her into thinking they were inquiring about her car registration. The effects of the incident last to this day, impacting decisions about who to trust and when to call for help.

Below, Alyssa describes what happened when ICE came to her door, and how it’s still impacting daily life.

Tara Pixley

One morning, I woke up to the sound of banging on my front door. I was alarmed — it was only 8 a.m. Through the peephole, I could see three people in dark clothing on the other side of the door. They said they were the police, and they were looking for me.

 

“Are you Alyssa Lazo?” they asked.

 

I had no idea how they knew my name or why they would be looking for me, but when they said it was about my car, I thought there might have been some issue with my registration. I had just been to the DMV a couple of weeks prior. Maybe I had done something wrong with the paperwork. They asked to see my car registration, and I indicated it was in my car. When I stepped outside my home to get my car registration documents, they stopped me and told me they were ICE — not the police — that I was here illegally, and that I was now in federal custody.

 

I was shocked, scared, and confused, because I was a DACA recipient. My lawyer never mentioned that this could be a possibility. I’d seen it on TV — people getting handcuffed and taken away — but I never thought it could be a possibility for me because I was taking care of my paperwork. But they didn’t care about that.

 

At that point, we were on the landing of my apartment building, and I could see my neighbor listening from inside his apartment while the ICE agents handcuffed me and took me away to the detention center. I was called an “alien,” a “threat to society,” and ended up spending 21 days in custody.

 

Ever since that day, I’ve been afraid of talking to the police for anything. Not even when I really need help. Even if I was being abused, stalked, or just terrified, I still wouldn’t call the police. I would call my sister instead.

 

But the fear stays with me. I feel like I’m being watched and as if ICE could show up at any moment, disguised as the police again. That fear has slightly decreased under the Biden administration. But there’s always the possibility that it could happen again. ICE should not be disguising themselves as the police. Now, every time I see the police, I wonder if they are undercover. But until the Biden administration does something to stop ICE from doing that, all we can do is be aware, be prepared, and know our rights. No one should have to face what I faced that day, and the fear that continues.

In 2020, the ACLU of Southern California, UC Irvine School of Law Immigrant Rights Clinic, and the law firm Munger, Tolles & Olson LLP filed a class action lawsuit on behalf of Osny Sorto-Vasquez Kid, the Inland Coalition for Immigrant Justice, and the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights. ICE tried to get the case dismissed, but the court denied the motion in April 2021. Early this year, a federal court granted class certification — recognizing that many people in Southern California share a similar claim against the deceptive practices by ICE.

Alex Garcia

Within just six days in May 2018, ICE arrested and detained more than 100 people across the Chicago area in “Operation Keep Safe.” As part of the operation, ICE agents saturated known Hispanic areas of the city of Chicago and surrounding communities accosting anybody who “looked” undocumented, and used unmarked vehicles to feign routine traffic stops. The ACLU has received reports from across the country of ICE agents barricading cars with their vehicles, approaching people with rifles pointed, and threatening to shoot.

Margarito Casta​​ñon Nava is among those who were unlawfully apprehended by ICE under the guise of a traffic stop, and was detained for 44 days before being released on bond.

Alex Garcia

On my way home from work one evening, I noticed a black SUV behind me. It seemed to be following me. There were no lights and no siren, but its tinted windows made me think of the police.

 

Suddenly the SUV barricaded my truck on the side of the road, and three people stepped out. It seemed I was right: they were wearing vests that said POLICE in large letters across the front.

 

The officers were speaking mostly in English, so I couldn’t understand what they were saying. My boss, who was with me in the passenger seat, translated for me. But there wasn’t much information to translate, because they never gave a reason why we were pulled over. All they did was ask us where we worked, to see our driver’s licenses, and to take our photos.

 

When I handed them my driver’s license, they threw it on the dashboard, handcuffed me to the steering wheel, and took my thumbprints and my photo. I watched them return to the SUV through the rearview mirror. When they returned, they put me in their car and drove us away. The agents never said who they were or where they were taking us, or why. It was only when we arrived at the detention center that I found out they were not the police, but ICE.

 

The whole time I was in custody, I had very little information about when I would see a judge or what was going to happen to me. They never showed me an arrest warrant. I tried to call my wife, but she didn’t pick up since she didn’t recognize the number. I was worried that they were going to send me back to Mexico and I wouldn’t be able to see my family again.

 

In the end, I was detained for about a month and a half. I missed my daughter’s quinceañera and my other two children’s last days of school. I still can’t believe government agents are pretending to be the police and locking people in detention for no good reason. But that’s what happened to me. The only reason I could think of is because my coworker and I appear Hispanic. ICE shouldn’t be catching people just because of the color of their skin.

 

I think things are changing now that there is a new president. If President Biden really cares about immigrants, I would ask him to help us get our papers so we can be able to visit our families. I have a work permit now, but I haven’t seen my family in Mexico in 23 years. If we could get our legal documents, I would be very, very happy.

In 2018, Margarito joined a class action lawsuit brought by the ACLU and the National Immigrant Justice Center, along with other individuals swept up in Operation Keep Safe the immigrant rights organizations Organized Communities Against Deportation and Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights. In 2022, the court approved a final settlement between the plaintiffs and DHS. Among other terms, the 3-year settlement requires ICE to adopt a nationwide policy barring many traffic stops and warrantless arrests, and allows ICE detainees to challenge detentions that violate the agreement in Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana, Missouri, Kansas, and Kentucky.

After achieving this victory, Margarito wanted to share his story to help others who may find themselves in similar situations.

Immigration arrests rose under the Trump administration, as did ICE’s use of ruses and its collaboration with police through the 287(g) program. The latter, while predating Trump, put more people under the threat of deportation by allowing local law enforcement to carry out duties normally reserved for federal ICE agents. That ICE itself is impersonating the police only foments confusion and fear of law enforcement in immigrant communities. As a result, many immigrants and their friends and family members are less likely to come forward as witnesses, provide crime tips, or seek police protection, even in emergencies.

Before taking office, President Biden pledged to roll back harmful immigration practices and hold law enforcement accountable for unlawful behavior. But ICE is still impersonating the police and misrepresenting its purpose and getting away with it. By allowing this practice to continue, the Biden administration is undermining its own efforts to repair Trump-era abuses.

The ACLU is urging Biden to reform ICE — particularly to prevent a future anti-immigrant administration from resuming Trump administration efforts to make the United States a hostile, dangerous place for our immigrant neighbors and loved ones. Necessary reforms include strict limits on any street arrests, dismantling programs that use local law enforcement to help deport immigrants, like 287(g), and prohibiting federal agents from impersonating local police.

Necessary reforms include strict limits on any street arrests, prohibiting federal agents from impersonating local police, and stopping ICE from tapping local police to do its bidding, including through the 287(g) program.

In the meantime, people in immigrant communities can defend themselves by knowing their rights. Anybody confronted by law enforcement — whether undocumented or not — can and should do their best to verify the officers’ identity and purpose, document the encounter, and report what happened. More information in English and Spanish can be found here.

Although the Supreme Court’s decision overturning Roe v. Wade cast a long shadow over reproductive rights, there were some victories to cheer in 2022. Among them was the culmination of a long, hard-fought campaign to sign the Pregnant Workers Fairness Act into law. A win more than a decade in the making, the PWFA mandates that employers grant pregnant workers “reasonable accommodations” — temporary job changes needed to maintain a healthy pregnancy — unless doing so would impose an “undue hardship,” a standard borrowed from the Americans with Disabilities Act. Given that the ADA has been on the books since 1990, employers have decades of experience “accommodating” workers’ medical needs.

­When I tell people about the PWFA’s enactment, most are surprised: Didn’t the law already require employers to assure pregnant workers could keep working safely, they ask? The answer — well, yes and no — reflects decades of disagreement among judges, legislators, and advocates about how to define “equality” when it comes to the distinct medical reality of pregnancy.

From the earliest jurisprudence concerning women and work, capacity for pregnancy has been a basis for disparate treatment. In 1908, the Supreme Court approved an Oregon law capping women’s shifts in certain physically demanding jobs at 10 hours, because “healthy mothers are essential to vigorous offspring,” and thus, “the physical wellbeing of woman becomes an object of public interest and care.” By the time Congress enacted Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, outlawing discrimination “because of” sex, virtually every state had enacted myriad “protective” laws restricting women’s ability to work on the same terms as men — such as working overtime and holding hazardous jobs.

ASSOCIATED PRESS

Although Title VII nullified such laws, employers continued to single out pregnant workers. Especially common were policies excluding them from fringe benefits like health insurance and accrual of seniority during leave. In 1976, the Supreme Court considered such a policy maintained by General Electric, which paid disability benefits to workers absent for medical reasons but paid nothing to people unable to work due to pregnancy. In a challenge brought by workers at a Virginia GE power plant, the justices approved the exclusion. They reasoned that because not all women become pregnant, GE’s decision to disadvantage pregnant workers was not “because of” sex — it was merely “because of” a particular medical condition — and therefore permissible.

Congress swiftly responded by passing the Pregnancy Discrimination Act (PDA) in 1978. In addition to making it explicit that under Title VII, “sex” includes “pregnancy, childbirth, and related medical conditions,” Congress also — in a specific retort to the GE lawsuit — directs that, for “all employment-related purposes” including receipt of fringe benefits, workers affected by pregnancy are to be treated the same as others “similar in their ability or inability to work.” So while the PDA did not mandate that employers must grant any particular benefit to pregnant workers — like paid maternity leave — it says that if an employer does grant such a benefit to others, it must extend the benefit to pregnant workers, too.

The PDA’s effects were seismic. No longer could an employer use pregnancy as a basis for denying an applicant a job, or paying workers less, or firing them. Nor could an employer cite its supposed concern for women’s reproductive health in deciding which jobs they could hold. In 1991, the Supreme Court finally renounced the paternalism of the 1908 decision limiting women’s shifts in certain physically demanding jobs. It did so in a case concerning the so-called “fetal protection” policy adopted by car battery manufacturer Johnson Controls, barring women from holding positions involving contact with lead, known to cause birth defects, unless they could prove sterility. Even though lead also posed danger to men’s reproductive capacity, no such ban was imposed on them.

Women pushed out of the lead-contact jobs — the best-paying in the company — filed suit. The Supreme Court ruled that under the PDA, the company was not entitled to substitute its own judgment for the women workers’: “It is no more appropriate for the courts than it is for the individual employers to decide whether a woman’s reproductive role is more important to herself and her family than her economic role.”

The Johnson Controls ruling may have rejected employers’ efforts to use the potential for pregnancy as a rationale for keeping women out of hazardous or strenuous jobs, but soon, a new conflict arose: Workers whose exceptionally strenuous or dangerous job duties were incompatible with pregnancy itself, and who sought to temporarily avoid those hazards, faced pushback. While employers routinely offered “light duty” to workers recovering from on-the-job injuries, and — as of 1990, when the ADA became law — altered job duties to meet the needs of workers with disabilities, they routinely denied such accommodations to pregnant people. And courts routinely approved such actions under the PDA, concluding that pregnant employees were not “similar” to those favored groups in their “ability or inability to work,” and therefore, not entitled to the same accommodations. Once again, the law treated pregnant workers as the exception, unsuited to the demands of the workplace.

Advocates cheered the Supreme Court’s 2015 decision in Young v. United Parcel Service, Inc., which clarified that employers could only deny pregnant workers needed accommodations if they had a “sufficiently strong” reason for doing so. But in the years after Young, pregnant workers continued to have their job modification requests rejected, and they continued to lose their PDA cases. Indeed, one study found that courts sided with the employer in two-thirds of lawsuits brought by pregnant workers post-Young. The main culprit? Confusion about which workers are sufficiently “similar” to trigger the PDA’s protections.

The PWFA eliminates this comparative hurdle. Employers now must grant reasonable accommodations to pregnant people no matter how they treat “similar” workers, so long as doing so would not impose an “undue hardship.” Nearly 45 years after enacting the PDA, Congress has reaffirmed that the temporary condition of pregnancy is not incompatible with work; it is a normal condition of the modern workplace.