As the Supreme Court kicks off another term this week, we should make one thing abundantly clear: Nine lawyers in black robes will not end mass incarceration and systemic racism in America. Not this term, not any. That doesn’t, however, mean the criminal law cases being argued and decided between now and June are inconsequential. The Justices could, if they choose, place meaningful limits on the power of local officials — police, prosecutors, judges — and give sharper teeth to key constitutional protections. This is why the ACLU tracks these cases closely and participates in many. They matter.

That said, we should be clear-eyed about what the justices can do, what they can’t do, and how you can fill in the gaps. With that in mind, here are three cases worth your attention:

In 2014, NYPD officers wrongfully barged into Larry Thompson’s Brooklyn home and pinned him to the ground after he demanded to see a warrant that they did not produce. To deflect blame, the officers falsely accused him of resisting arrest. When the charges were finally dropped, Thompson sued the police, arguing that his Fourth Amendment rights were violated. But New York federal judges tossed the case. They ruled that Thompson had to show “affirmative indications of innocence” before he could sue.

This makes no sense. People accused of crimes are presumed innocent until proven guilty, and may not have the time or resources to prove their own innocence before charges are dropped. Instead, the dropping of charges itself should be enough to indicate that the criminal proceeding has ended favorably for the accused, and a civil rights case can begin.

• What the justices could do: Support both the presumption of innocence and law enforcement accountability by rejecting the “actual indication of innocence” standard.
• What they can’t do: End law enforcement abuses and cover-ups, so that the next Larry Thompson is never assaulted at all, much less falsely accused of assault himself.
• What you can do to fill the gap: Vote for prosecutors, sheriffs, judges, and mayors who commit to changing police abuses; lobby for legislation that eliminates the myriad procedural bars to civil rights suits that erect an almost impenetrable protective shell around law enforcement.

Speaking of procedural bars to police accountability, there is of course qualified immunity, which lets police and other public officials off the hook for constitutional violations unless the law is already “clearly established.” In practice, this is a virtually impossible standard to meet. Qualified immunity and its fatal flaws have gained national recognition in the wake of racial justice uprisings since the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, but we’re still awaiting its elimination.

In this case, Levi Frasier recorded Denver police officers punching a man in the head. The police officers then seized Frasier’s tablet, trying to erase the video. Frasier rightly sued under the First Amendment, and the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals (wrongly, in our opinion) granted the officers qualified immunity — even though they had been trained that the public was allowed to record them.

• What the justices could do: Affirm the clearly established right to record the police doing their jobs and eliminate qualified immunity altogether. Because qualified immunity is a judge-made doctrine in the first place, the Justices could simply eliminate qualified immunity. This would be a game-changer.
• What they can’t do: Stop police from punching people in the face.
• What you can do fill in the gap: While we continue to press the court to fix qualified immunity itself, you can lobby your federal and state lawmakers to get rid of it via statute. Colorado is a good example. Since this case was filed, Colorado has taken steps to eliminate qualified immunity for state civil rights actions. On the ground advocacy can create the momentum necessary to push state and local actors to fill in the gaps that SCOTUS refuses to address.

Here, prosecutors in the Bronx charged a man named Nicholas Morris with murder after a person was shot during a large fight on the street. Morris’ case ended in a mistrial. The prosecutors, undeterred, then charged Darrell Hemphill for the same murder, arguing he was the real gunman during the fight. Unsurprisingly, Hemphill implicated Morris. Prosecutors then introduced statements from Morris that contradicted Hemphill’s story, but without producing Morris himself to testify in court. The judge allowed Morris’s hearsay statement into evidence, claiming that, without it, Hemphill’s defense would “mislead” the jury. Hemphill — now serving 25 years for the murder — argues that the Constitution guaranteed his right to cross-examine Morris directly in court.

Hemphill is right.

• What the justices could do: Affirm that the Sixth Amendment’s Confrontation Clause is iron-clad, and judges cannot simply waive it by asserting that the defense is somehow misleading. It’s the jury’s job to decide the truth, not the judge’s.
• What they can’t do: Meaningfully cut back on prosecutors’ and judges’ discretion to circumvent trial rights, including trials themselves.
• What you can do to fill in the gap: Once again, vote for prosecutors and judges who take their constitutional obligations seriously. And in the meantime, support our litigation and legislative efforts to cut back on pretrial detention, eliminate coercive plea bargaining, and take other steps that level the playing field between people accused of crimes and those accusing them.

There are certainly other significant criminal law cases this term, including Shinn v. Ramirez, about a federal court’s power to collect evidence during habeas corpus petitions, and Wooden v. United States, about what prior acts can trigger overly harsh federal sentences for gun possession. There are also cases adjacent to criminal justice in the immigration and national security context, plus cases that have yet to be granted.

More important than the outcome of any one case, however, we should learn to analyze the Supreme Court in light of what it can and can’t do for real people caught in the broken gears of our justice system — and then get to work making up the difference.

We worked with 10 visual artists to create images of what achieving Systemic Equality could look like — a vision of a more inclusive and equitable future for America. A future that roots out injustice, challenges our racist institutions, and ensures that every person can achieve their highest potential, unhampered by structural and institutional racism. We asked them to be bold in envisioning this reimagining of systems: from bridging the racial wealth gap, to reconciling our past, to ensuring our future expands access for all and empowers all communities. Their work is inspired by these results. Accompanying each piece is a personal statement from the artist about the world they envision on issues such as student debt, fair housing, voting rights, and more.

“A large step towards systemic equality is ensuring that high speed internet access is expanded out to the millions of people of color who don’t have access to it. My graphic is an idealistic portrayal of an America in which that basic necessity is provided to all — giving everyone real access to education, health care, financial growth, governmental support systems, and overall connections that can uplift and empower those who’ve been held back from years of systemic inequality.”

Greg is an award winning Haitian-Canadian visual designer, who started his design journey over 10 years ago. His passion for visual storytelling drives him to constantly create art and designs that weave together colors, textures, patterns, and typography to craft his vision. Greg hopes that his work, if nothing else, captivates, inspires, and provides insight to who he is and what he believes in.

“The intersections of race, history, and ancestry have frequently been at the core of my work. The generational tradition of storytelling, looking through old photos and mapping the family tree have been powerful tools in discovering and understanding my ancestry and America’s history. ‘Demand Reparations’ is a continuation of these themes by conveying a shared history of Black and Indigenous communities. Though none of the figures depicted are based on anyone in particular, I wanted to create a specific yet familiar familial lineage that viewers could identify with in some aspect. The message is clear: this country was built on the thankless hard work and immense suffering of our ancestors. We demand reparations.”

Sophia Zarders (she/they) is an illustrator, comic artist, and independent zine publisher from Long Beach, California. Their work has been published by HarperCollins, The Nation, PRISM, Fiyah Literary Magazine and Razorcake Magazine. They’ve been commissioned by the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights, SaveArtSpace, Forward Together, and the Arts Council of Long Beach. In 2018, they exhibited their first solo show at Somos Gallery in Berlin, Germany. Sophia is currently pursuing their MFA in Visual Art from Emily Carr University of Art & Design in Vancouver, British Columbia.

“I imagine inequality and racism as weeds with roots burrowing deep into our country’s foundation. This piece highlights a future where we dig out and destroy the roots of injustice, allowing a more beautiful country to bloom for every American.”

Jade Orlando is a Black biracial illustrator working in Atlanta, Georgia. Her illustrations are featured in books such as Generation Brave, Hey You! and the Activists Assemble series. In addition to book illustration, her art can be found on products ranging from greeting cards to calendars. Jade lives with her husband, four cats, and a Greyhound named Petra. When she’s not illustrating, you can usually find her curled up with her pets and a really good book.

“Equity can be configured when accessibility is finally given. People have the human right to obtain and experience the freedom they have been promised.

Accessibility dismantles the pillars that barricade our communities from experiencing progression and healing. Beyond the endless cycle of disconnection, people can finally see their lives at true value and being to see communities flourish. This change would offer us the opportunity to build various aspirations and resources to secure a sturdier foundation for everyone.”

Memphis-native illustrator and designer Mia Saine is a non-binary Black creative seeking to share a more positive, inclusive narrative. Saine’s colorful, minimal digital illustrations strive to normalize and amplify minorities’ voices and experiences. Saine triumphs the constant cycle of injustice, tropes, and stereotypes by showcasing minorities, especially Black individuals, embracing their self-empowerment and happiness.

“Do my loved ones truly see me? Do they hear me? Do they feel me? Caught in the crossfire between my white family and friends and my Blackness, I often feel lost in the void.

This work is a natural way for me to communicate these sentiments. Harsh lines and contrast show the differences we have, but the shared range of values recognize that reconciliation is still within reach. The only colors in the piece, green and red, hearken back to our roots in the Pan-African flag. Texture bursts throughout, indicating the gritty nature of the work we’ve done and have yet to do.

Taking broken fragments and piecing them together to make something captivating, I show that the sometimes confused and complicated feelings we have are valid and worthy of being heard.”

Graduating in 2015 from Missouri Southern State University with a BFA in graphic design, Kahlief Steele finds ways to use his design skills to solve problems for a variety of clients, including large businesses, nonprofits, friends, and family. Having been raised by a white family, he has a deep longing for knowledge about his heritage. As such, every February, he amasses a trove of information related to Black History and publishes art to educate those who are unfamiliar. In the summer following the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery, he hosted a Q+A session to foster conversation with those who were unsure of the next steps to take. He continues to create work that inspires others to greater understanding and to take action.

“I created this piece to emphasize the importance of protecting voting rights for everyone. I wanted to illustrate something to show that in order to fight democracy and equity, we have to protect voting rights. The stars in the background represent the states, as they are the ones that are currently trying to pass laws, at an alarming rate, to suppress voting rights, and the flag represents the rights that we are trying to protect and expand.”

Nadia Fisher is a children’s book and freelance illustrator based out of Washington, D.C. striving to normalize inclusion in children’s books and the illustration world. A lot of her art focuses on social justice, and Nadia hopes to encourage people to find their voice and show up for others.

“I created a design about the Tulsa Race Massacre. There was a thriving Black community in the U.S.! There was a successful Black community in the U.S. but, of course because, ‘Black people aren’t supposed to own anything’ they didn’t let it survive. This is another incident I feel should have been taught in schools abroad, especially African countries, but unfortunately wasn’t for whatever reason — I personally never learned about it until I moved here. Despite all that has happened to all Black people around the world, be it slavery or colonization, there has always been a dire need to take things away from us. Things that we have ‘owned;’ natural resources on our land, and this same mindset caused the Greenwood District of Tulsa, Oklahoma to be raided and destroyed for NO REASON AT ALL.”

Daniella Uche-Oji is a designer and storyteller based in Los Angeles, California. She was born in Houston, Texas and raised in Lagos, Nigeria. Her obsession for storytelling and technology drove her to becoming a designer. She is skilled at graphic and motion designs that tell stories she didn’t get to hear earlier in her life. Her designs are largely inspired by culture, music, fashion, and technology.

“What would our society look like for Black and Indigenous people of color if systemic racism no longer thrived? Drawing from a video recording of Nina Simone back in 1968 being asked ‘what is freedom to you?’ the artist was inspired to convey her response through the medium of digital collage. Simone states that freedom to her meant ‘absolutely no fear!’ With this piece, the artist explores what true freedom would look like for her people when absolutely nothing is hindering us, including fear, and we are able to live our truly authentic lives.”

Alexa Lima is an interdisciplinary artist who resides in Marietta, Georgia with her husband, two step-kids, a dog named Zelda, and a cat named Benny. Creating movement through the lens of minimalism is the constant idea that she aims to convey through her work, and centers her design ethos around illuminating that which has been cast aside throughout time. Currently, she is running Ulterior Studio, self-publishing short-run zines, and trying not to consume all the pastries, all the time.

“This illustration depicts the collaboration it takes across policymakers, institutions, and individuals to close the racial wealth gap. There are many symbolic references including a nod to the many pins and bumper stickers that surface during social movements. The image is layered on a flat black and white divide with all-American denim on both sides. On the denim jacket there are several pins and patches highlighting a few solutions. Lastly, the closure of the jacket represents possibility for a better future, a real and tangible shift to equal opportunity for all.”

Justine Swindell is a multidisciplinary artist based in Washington D.C. In her neo-pop style she tells visual stories of city life, cultural identity, and social change.

“This piece represents the fear and overwhelming feeling of having student debt. It’s like being lost at sea, helpless with nothing supporting you but your cap. A life preserver enters the scene literally saving you, because at this point student loans are loans paid off for life.”

Nicole Abrokwa is a multidisciplinary artist. Her work pulls from her life experiences, whether that be her Ghanaian heritage, her childhood memories, or everyday life. Her work puts focus on human emotions and capturing moments of closeness. Over the years, Nicole has worked on honing her skills in various mediums ranging from digital animations to traditional paintings. When not creating, you can find her unsuccessfully attempting to grow tomatoes and starting another book only for it to be left unfinished.

For the first time in a decade, Congress has a real opportunity to deliver a pathway to citizenship for millions of immigrants. For too long, immigrants who’ve called America home for most of their lives have still been forced to live in fear of deportation and the possibility they could be torn apart from their families and communities.

Congress proposed legislative solutions this year among growing momentum and pressure from constituents. More than 70% of people support a pathway to citizenship for immigrants. But the Senate parliamentarian has ruled against two proposals to put immigrants–including people who came to the country as kids, people with a form of protection called Temporary Protected Status, farm workers and essential workers–on a pathway to citizenship. We are angry, but not defeated.

We recently joined Human Rights Watch and more than 50 other civil rights and human rights organizations to call on the White House and Congressional leadership to find an alternate route to deliver on the long-held promise to enact a path to citizenship and lasting protections for undocumented immigrants. Congress must do its job and get the job done this year. If Congress fails, millions of people will be denied the chance to live free from the threat of deportation, again.

We talked with directly-impacted people about the urgency of this moment.

Paola Garcia came to the United States from León, Guanajuato, Mexico when she was 2-years-old with both of her parents. Ever since then, they’ve been involved in an ongoing struggle to become citizens. Paola’s dad endured a fight for his own citizenship that lasted more than a decade and went all the way to the West Virginia Supreme Court. He eventually won his legal battle, but by that time, Paola had aged out of being given priority status to become a citizen. She is currently protected from deportation by the DACA program, which continues to undergo legal challenge and was never intended as a permanent solution.

“The Biden administration said they would do their best to make some type of immigration reform in the first 100 days,” Paola said. “Those 100 days are up and I’m still waiting unfortunately. The only thing that could grant me access as a legal citizen here would be if there was some type of legislation.”

Paola is urging Congress to pass a pathway to citizenship so she can continue being an advocate in her community without fear of deportation.

“If I could say something to Congress, I would ask them ‘What inspired you from the very beginning to become a representative for people?’ When you think about that answer, most of the reasons they would give are the same reasons that immigrants come to West Virginia, the same reasons that immigrants come to the United States. We want to contribute. We make America richer – not just financially – culturally, physically, mentally, spiritually, all of that. We need all of that, especially right now. America is in a big world of hurt. We need people to take up responsibility. We need people to become community leaders. The majority of us just want to better ourselves, the country, and our communities just like anyone who is in Congress.”

Irma Flores came to the United States 20 years ago following an earthquake in El Salvador.

“I made the decision to come to this country to try to find better opportunities and better education for my son and my daughter,” Irma said.

Irma was granted Temporary Protected Status. She had trouble navigating the school system for her young kids and decided to start educating other immigrant families to help them navigate the schools too.

“My commitment with the immigrant community has been supporting them, bringing services, and letting them know we have rights because that is something we didn’t know when we came to this country,” Irma said.

Irma now has five grandchildren and is fighting for a pathway to citizenship because it will provide stability for her family and allow them to travel to see family members in El Salvador. Her family was hit by tragedy when her father died last year.

“I didn’t have the opportunity to go and say goodbye to him because we can’t. I don’t want that to happen if something happens to my mom. A path to citizenship will help people like us, human beings who have family in other countries and we are not able to visit. We need to have that connection to see our families. I have seen a lot of families in the same situation,” Irma said.

Irma is urging Congress to act upon its promises and deliver for families like hers.

“After the many promises they have given to us, it’s just time,” Irma said.

Omar Salinas-Chacón came to the United States after his family became targets of gang violence back home in El Salvador. Omar is a DACA recipient and says the instability of the temporary program impacts every aspect of his life.

“I have to renew my DACA every year and a half and that’s really as far as I can plan out my life. I would like for that to change,” Omar said.

Omar is active in his community as the Kentucky State Manager of the Save the Children Action Network and a board member for the ACLU of Kentucky. He is asking Congress to pass a pathway to citizenship and to consider the desperation so many immigrant families face.

“I want Congress to think: What would it take for them to pack up their entire family and go to a country where they don’t even know the language? Imagine how desperate you are to do that? We don’t choose to leave our homes. All I’m asking is that I become part of this home I’ve called home for over 20 years now,” Omar said.

Jesús Benavides has lived in the United States for 17 years. He works construction and is involved with his community through La Colmena, a group that organizes immigrant workers in Staten Island.

“In Mexico, the jobs do not pay people enough. I came here to have better opportunities and to help my parents,” Jesús said.

Jesús suffered the loss of his father last year and said the grief has been even more challenging because he is far away from his family.

“Not being able to see my dad was hard. It is hard because sometimes I remember things from there, especially my parents. Not being able to see them, not being able to talk to them in person, it’s hard,” Jesús said.

Jesús is asking Congress to pass a pathway to citizenship for immigrant workers like him.

“They need to work to pass a pathway to citizenship for the millions of immigrants who are here because we’ve been working really hard during the pandemic. We are essential workers who helped New York and the entire country and kept the economy moving forward,” Jesús said.