News & Commentary

U.S. Customs and Border Protection has a long track record of mistreating travelers — citizens and noncitizens alike — in the name of national security. It has subjected U.S. citizens to dehumanizing searches and detentions for no good reason, harassed and interrogated journalists, searched tens of thousands of travelers’ smartphones and laptops, and used nakedly discriminatory criteria to target travelers of Iranian, Lebanese, and Palestinian heritage — then lied about doing so. And that’s just the tip of the

On May 19, the National Review editors condemned the ACLU’s “absurd” lawsuit against Education Secretary Betsy DeVos’s new Title IX regulations, which govern sexual harassment and assault at schools that receive federal funding. They argue that we had sacrificed our principles by seeking to “weaken” due process standards. President Trump promptly retweeted it, though showed no evidence that he actually read it. But the National Review’s criticism bears no relation to the lawsuit we actually filed. Our suit challenges provisions letting schools ignore serious claims of sexual harassment altogether. It does not even challenge the very procedural protections the National Review champions. We believe schools can and must take complaints of sexual harassment seriously and provide fair process to all students. There’s no contradiction between the two. The ACLU has long favored fair process for all parties to such disputes. Indeed, in our comments on the proposed rules, and in a public statement when the final rule was issued, we expressed support for fair procedures including live hearings, the opportunity for cross-examination, access to evidence, and a written decision carefully addressing the evidence. Given all this, one has to wonder whether the National Review even bothered to review our public response to the rule, much less our complaint.  Our lawsuit, filed on behalf of Know Your IX, Council of Parent Attorneys and Advocates, Inc., Girls for Gender Equity, and Stop Sexual Assault in Schools, does not challenge those aspects of the rule. Instead, it challenges provisions that govern schools’ responsibility to investigate and respond to sexual harassment complaints, not provisions requiring fair process for those accused of wrongdoing. Specifically, we challenge a provision that allows schools to ignore any sexual harassment or assault that takes place off campus, such as in a student’s apartment, even if the perpetrator and victim are in the same classes and the incident has lasting effects on the campus environment. We challenge a provision that says colleges and universities can ignore widely known incidents of sexual harassment or assault if a formal complaint is not filed with a handful of school officials. It says that schools will not be held liable for responding unreasonably to claims of sexual harassment, so long as they are not “deliberately indifferent.” And it redefines “sexual harassment” to provide that it includes only those actions that are “severe, pervasive, and objectively offensive,” meaning that the school is free to ignore “severe” sexual assault if it’s not “pervasive,” and can ignore “pervasive” harassment if it’s not also “severe.”  None of this has anything to do with the fair process rights of the respondent. It has to do with the obligations of schools to respond to sexual harassment complaints.  What’s more, these changes depart not only from decades of prior practice, but also from the rules that continue to govern schools’ responsibility, under parallel laws, to respond to claims of harassment based on disability, race, or national origin. Why, we ask, has the Department of Education let schools off the hook entirely for harassment and assault that they would have to respond to if it were based on disability or national origin? The Department failed to justify this blatant double standard. The only provision our lawsuit challenges that has anything to do with the actual process of adjudicating complaints concerns the standard of proof. The Department allows schools to adopt either preponderance of the evidence or the more demanding clear and convincing evidence standard, but requires any school that uses clear and convincing evidence for complaints against faculty to use the same standard in disputes between students. Our view is that the preponderance of the evidence treats both the complainant and the respondent equally. It doesn’t presume guilt, as the National Review suggests. It simply says that whoever has the more persuasive evidence wins. That’s the standard used for all civil disputes between private parties, including sexual harassment lawsuits. The clear and convincing evidence standard, by contrast, improperly favors the respondent over the complainant, because it means that the accused will prevail even if the complainant offers stronger evidence than the respondent. Where both parties’ access to education is at stake, we think preponderance of the evidence is the right standard.  Claims that the ACLU has sacrificed its commitment to fairness are unfounded. To the contrary, we are fighting for fairness: fairness for those who suffer sexual harassment, who should be treated no worse than those who suffer harassment based on disability, race, or national origin. And fairness to both the complainant and the respondent, by adopting the standard of proof that governs all other harassment disputes. We can and should take both sexual harassment and fair process seriously. Betsy DeVos did not.

As someone of Chinese descent who lives in the multicultural mixing pot that is Hawai‘i, I find myself thinking about the fact that May is Asian and Pacific Islander (API) Heritage Month, and how the opportunity to reflect on API heritage in the United States could not have come at a better time. In some ways, what’s happening today with COVID-19 is history repeating itself. As the disease has spread, there has also been a rise in anti-Asian sentiment and xenophobic attacks on Asian people throughout the country. These attacks are provoked and encouraged by the dangerous and inaccurate rhetoric spewed by the current administration, such as referring to COVID-19 as “the Chinese flu.”  Disease outbreaks have long been racialized throughout history and used to systemically scapegoat certain groups of people. This panic-fueled racism intersects with other systems of oppression, such as incarceration, white supremacy, colonization, and poverty.  Although the anti-Asian sentiment on the mainland has been more extreme, we’re still experiencing traces of it here in Hawai‘i, the state that boasts the largest percentage of Asian and Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander populations thanks to a unique history of plantation labor immigration from Asia and Western colonization. In fact, Hawai‘i’s history of discrimination against API people is one we can learn from.  When the first COVID-19 cases in Hawai‘i were confirmed in early March, Honolulu’s Chinatown saw an immediate 50 percent drop in business. The once bustling streets were suddenly silent and empty, while the malls continued to draw in large crowds. Around this time, a friend confided in me about how she feared for the security of her mom’s job as a waitress in a Chinese restaurant in Honolulu. The restaurant was losing customers, and her mom was losing shifts.  This isn’t the first time Honolulu’s Chinatown has experienced racism catalyzed by a public health crisis.The bubonic plague, believed to have originated in China, spread throughout the world and touched down on the islands at the end of the 19th century. During this time, Hawai‘i was a thriving economic hub in the Pacific Rim coming to terms with full colonial control and the 1893 overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy. Eurocentric ideology was at a high, which helped foster blatantly racist and false ideas, such as the belief that the “plague seldom attacks clean white people,” as one Honolulu resident wrote.  Under economic pressure, officials first sought to quarantine Chinatown, a working class neighborhood made up of shanties and considered “dirty,” before resorting to burning down entire buildings where plague victims died as a method of “sanitation.” In early 1900, one of these fires burned out of control and swallowed a fifth of Honolulu’s buildings in flames. The residents of the homes that burned down were mainly Chinese, Japanese, and Hawaiian, who were then forced into quarantine camps for weeks with no proper compensation plan to help rebuild their lives.  This displacement of lower working class families, which would leave them struggling to catch up economically for years to come, was a result of public officials overlooking one of the most vulnerable and therefore least influential populations. This political inaction was illustrative of how a society entrenched in white supremacy and colonialism failed to protect the people not considered valuable — in this case, poorer people and people of color. When considering the intersection of racism and infectious diseases in Hawai‘i, we can’t overlook the leprosarium on the secluded Kalaupapa peninsula on Moloka‘i, an island west of Maui. The highly stigmatized leprosy, or Hansen’s disease, was first diagnosed in the islands in 1848. Little was known about the disease, and it was believed to be more contagious than it actually is. But as with the bubonic plague in Honolulu’s Chinatown, racism infiltrated the way it was handled by public health officials.  From 1866 to 1969, over 8,000 people were permanently exiled to Moloka‘i for having leprosy. Those exiled were not only expected to die there, but society also shunned them as “impure” criminals simply for having the disease. About 97 percent of those exiled to the settlement were Native Hawaiian, a population already shrinking from other diseases introduced by European settlers, while foreigners with leprosy were reportedly allowed to leave the country. Although those exiled to the settlement were eventually given the freedom to return back to society, many found it difficult to be fully welcomed back, instead choosing to live out their lives on Moloka‘i. Today, researchers recall what happened on Moloka‘i to be an example of white colonist interest using public health discourse to segregate, tear apart, and ultimately disempower Native Hawaiian communities.  These examples are not isolated events, and they should not be forgotten. If we don’t learn from the past, we risk further harming groups of people who are already marginalized. In Hawai‘i, two populations especially vulnerable to the pandemic — the houseless and the incarcerated — are disproportionately made up of Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander peoples. Although Native Hawaiians make up 24 percent of the state’s population, they account for 39 percent of the prison population.  This disproportionate representation shows up in our houseless population as well. In 2019, Hawai‘i ranked as the state with the second-highest rate of homelessness, and the majority of people who use homeless shelters are Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander. It’s notoriously hard to make ends meet in Hawai‘i, where the cost of living is high, but the cycle of poverty is especially difficult for Native Hawaiians, who have been trying to recover ever since Europeans arrived. In 2017, the poverty rate for all Hawai‘i residents was 9.5 percent, but for Native Hawaiians, it jumped to 13.4 percent — the disparity likely due to lower education levels and lower wages.  In California, despite making up a small part of the state’s population, Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders have the highest COVID-19 death rate of any group. And these aren’t the only groups of people being affected at a disproportionate rate — Indigenous, Latinx, and Black communities are also suffering due to racial disparities in our health care system across the nation.  If this month serves any purpose, it is for everyone — not just those of API descent — to reflect on how racism itself is intertwined with systems of oppression. If the numbers above indicate anything, it’s that the harmful effects of colonialism and decades of systemic oppression are long lasting and impact countless aspects of many people’s lives. As a vehicle for racism, COVID-19 presents a critical lesson. This pandemic — and the others from Hawaii’s history — sheds light on the damaging legacy of racism and oppression. As health and safety are rightfully on people’s minds, it’s going to take everyone working together to forgo harmful, unproductive racist ideologies and instead advocate for our politicians and institutions to ensure that everyone feels protected and safe — now, and after the moment of crisis has passed.

Abortion is still legal in all 50 states, but if the past year has taught us anything, there is no guarantee it will stay that way. Should Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court decision that legalized abortion, be overturned, several states — including New Mexico — still have abortion bans on the books that could go back into effect. In the case of New Mexico, a 1969 law that is mostly unenforceable could make abortion care a felony in almost every case. This old abortion ban would require patients — including survivors of rape and incest — at any stage of pregnancy to beg for permission to have an abortion in front of a panel of strangers. Any person who performs an abortion outside of this inhumane process could be charged with a felony. People receiving this care could also be investigated and charged. This burden falls more on people of color, young people, those with limited income and LGBTQ+ communities when abortion is banned. We want to change that. We came close to getting rid of the old abortion ban this past year with a narrow loss in the legislature. The bill had the support of reproductive freedom champions in both the House and the Senate and the governor had already committed to signing it. But after several key senators voted to keep the ban on the books, the measure failed by three votes. We have heard loud and clear from our members and supporters across the state that protecting abortion rights is one of their top civil liberties priorities. So we decided to expand our advocacy effort and use the opportunity of the upcoming primary on June 2 to educate voters on this issue. Over the final two weeks of the election, we will reach more than 25,000 likely Democratic primary voters in two key districts, Senate District 28 and 30. Our effort includes phone banks and texting, as well as a significant direct mail effort and a digital persuasion and get out the vote ad campaign — a steady drumbeat of information comparing the candidates’ abortion rights positions. Our goal is simple: To protect the right to and accessibility of abortion in New Mexico no matter what happens at the federal level. Reproductive freedom and abortion rights are under unprecedented attack throughout the country. The protections guaranteed by Roe v. Wade have already been gutted in many ways, and other states have passed at least 483 abortion restrictions in the past decade with one goal in mind — to push abortion care out of reach, pushing pregnant people to seek care in other states. This makes New Mexico an important leader in reproductive health care throughout the Southwest and the country. We fear it’s only a matter of time before the Supreme Court acts to completely dismantle the remaining protections and we can’t risk losing critical abortion access for even one day in New Mexico. This is a distinct and urgent risk for New Mexicans, and it cannot be ignored. Because of the elected officials who voted to keep this outdated law, the threat and stigma of a potential criminal investigation, arrest, and prosecution for medical treatment continues to hang over patients and their healthcare providers. On June 2, New Mexico voters will be able to use their ballots to prevent this dystopian future from ever becoming reality, and ensure abortion rights remain protected in our state no matter what happens at the federal level. Paid for and authorized by American Civil Liberties Union, Inc.

Few things are more important during an emergency than a free and independent press to hold the government’s feet to the fire. During the ongoing COVID-19 public health crisis, reporters have debunked government statistics that undercounted infection and fatality rates, exposed public officials who dumped stock while telling the public that there was nothing to fear, and kept a running tally of President Trump’s many falsehoods.   Reporters are working double-time to hold our leaders accountable and keep the public well-informed. But in Puerto Rico, the free press is under direct threat.   Today, we filed a First Amendment lawsuit challenging two recently-enacted Puerto Rico laws that make it a crime to share information the government deems to be false about emergency conditions on the island. We represent Sandra Rodríguez Cotto and Rafelli González Cotto, two prominent investigative journalists who fear that the laws will be used to punish them for their reporting on the COVID-19 crisis, especially reporting that reflects negatively on the government. Because these laws pose an imminent threat to core First Amendment freedoms, we’re asking the federal court hearing our case to block them as soon as possible.   The first law, which was passed in 2017, makes it a crime to raise “false alarms” about “non-existing abnormalities” during a declared emergency. The second law, which was passed just last month in the midst of media coverage critical of Puerto Rico’s handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, makes it a crime to share “false information” about the government’s emergency orders and curfew orders with the intent to cause “confusion, panic, or public hysteria.” People convicted for violating these laws could face six months, or in some circumstances up to three years in prison, as well as thousands of dollars in government fines.   Just because these laws are limited to speech the government considers false does not mean that only false speech will be deterred. The laws’ broad sweep and vague language give people far too little guidance on what speech may constitute a crime, and government far too much discretion in deciding whom to prosecute. People will naturally think twice before speaking —or refrain from speaking entirely — if a factual dispute with the government or an inadvertent mistake or misunderstanding could land them in prison. To prevent this kind of chill on public debate, the First Amendment protects false speech in most circumstances. And even unprotected false speech, like defamation, can’t be penalized if there’s a significant risk that it will deter speech on matters of public concern. Thus, for example, the Supreme Court has long held that criminal defamation laws must require the government to demonstrate “actual malice” – i.e., that the speaker knew (or at least strongly suspected) that the speech was false.   Puerto Rico’s “fake news” laws don’t include an actual malice requirement, which means that journalists cover the COVID-19 crisis at their peril. An article that happens to include an inadvertent mistake, or that contradicts the government’s official narrative (even when that official narrative is false), could easily lead to criminal prosecution.   Our clients’ fears that these laws could be used to punish journalists are not far-fetched. Under Puerto Rico’s former criminal defamation law, reporters were hauled into court and threatened with prosecution for exposing police corruption, even though the government had no evidence that anything the reporters wrote was inaccurate. Fortunately, that law was struck down for violating the First Amendment. These laws should suffer the same fate.   Access to reliable information is critical in times of emergency. “Fake news” laws may appear to promote this worthy cause by outlawing rumors and falsehoods. But the Constitution stands for the principle that the government cannot be trusted to regulate discussion on matters of public concern, and that a free press is the only reliable guarantee of a well-informed public. Especially in times of emergency, the First Amendment rights to free speech and a free press must be zealously defended against government meddling.   If the Puerto Rican government is genuinely concerned about the spread of misinformation during the COVID-19 public health crisis, then it should be promoting transparency rather than censorship. The government should be making it easier for journalists to inform the public about what is happening by holding regular press conferences, releasing pertinent records, and laying out the government’s proposed plan of action for public scrutiny. Laws criminalizing information the government deems false, on the other hand, will only make it easier for the government to clamp down on coverage it doesn’t like and harder for journalists to report the news the public needs to hear most.

Are you fleeing violence? Yes.    Did you tell Border Patrol? Of course!    What did they say? That there is no more asylum.    Despite her pleas for protection, a 19-year old Salvadoran woman was summarily deported by Customs and Border Protection (CBP) to Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, according to a local advocate who interviewed her immediately afterward. The U.S. has a legal obligation not to return migrants to danger. CBP, instead, placed her directly in harm’s way again.   Yesterday, the Trump administration issued an indefinite extension of the order enabling that deportation, and more than 20,000 others, including more than 900 children, in the past two months. Under the order, agents quickly deport all migrants at the border who do not have prior permission to enter the United States, without allowing them the opportunity to seek protection from persecution that U.S. law guarantees.   The original 30-day order was issued by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) on March 20 and extended on April 20. The latest order functionally ends asylum at the border.    According to leaked internal CBP guidance, only those who “make an affirmative, spontaneous, and reasonably believable claim that they fear being tortured in the country they are being sent back to” will be screened for eligibility for protection in the United States. So far, only two asylum seekers have been allowed to claim protection under this procedure. CBP has prevented the remaining 99.99 percent of migrants from even applying for asylum or other forms of humanitarian protection.    The impact of the CDC order is devastating. The agency is not only placing adults and families in immediate harm, either in Mexico or in the very country from which they fled, but is doing the same thing to hundreds of unaccompanied children.    Co-opting the COVID-19 pandemic to end asylum at the border is the culmination of Trump’s sustained war against those fleeing persecution. Over the past three years, the administration has employed various cruel schemes to dismantle protections, and to unilaterally abandon the welcoming tradition upon which they were built. The United States has historically promoted its global leadership on the protection of migrants and refugees and its robust laws to protect the persecuted. But the arch of U.S. efforts to protect those in need, which began with its key role in negotiating post-World War II international law and norms, has been twisted into the downward spiral of this government’s direct abuse of the most vulnerable.     The New York Times reported that Stephen Miller, the president’s chief advisor on immigration, has tried to use the threat of “disease” as an excuse to close the border since at least 2018. With this latest order, he put that plan into practice. But nobody is fooled by this transparent attempt to use a public health crisis as cover.    Public health experts have objected — strongly. Forty leading epidemiologists, public health experts, and former CDC officials wrote to HHS Secretary Azar and CDC Director Redfield criticizing the order’s “specious public health rationale” and calling for an end to the policy. The letter states that “the current administration is using the imprimatur of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) to circumvent laws and treaty protections designed to save lives and enable the mass expulsion of asylum seekers and unaccompanied children.”    Congress is also taking note of the administration’s power grab under the guise of public health. The chairmen of three important House committees and members of the Senate Judiciary Committee demanded justifications for the suspension of protections for asylum seekers and unaccompanied children that are mandated by U.S. and international law. The House chairmen and Senator Menendez, ranking member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, publicly rejected the Department of State’s legal opinion, which they called “deeply flawed.”    Trump officials may pretend otherwise, but it is absolutely possible to protect public health and preserve access to asylum and other humanitarian protection for people fleeing persecution or danger at the same time. Experts have developed recommendations to safely process asylum seekers, children, and other migrants at the border to help ensure that people in desperate need of protection can get it.    Our country is undoubtedly facing a grave public health crisis. We reject the administration’s attempt to take advantage of the crisis to advance its anti-immigrant agenda and discard our legal obligations. The government must reverse the assault on asylum and rebuild a system that fairly and safely restores our proud tradition of protecting people fleeing persecution — if not under this president, then certainly under the next. 

This week, we’re airing the 100th episode of the ACLU’s podcast, At Liberty. The podcast came to life after Trump was elected in 2016, and has had quite a journey since then. We’ve talked to everyone from Megan Rapinoe, to Stacey Abrams, to Edward Snowden, to Tarana Burke. Activists, experts, artists, ACLU staff members, and celebrities have helped listeners understand how the civil rights and civil liberties issues of the day affect the lives of people across the U.S. To mark the occasion of our 100th episode, we took a look back at some of our favorite highlights. We hope you’ll listen with us — and stick around for the next 100 episodes to come. Episodes About Resilience “Your hair is okay. You are okay.” Harnessing History and Solidarity to Stop Migrant Detention Gavin Grimm, From Teen Activist to Trans Icon How One Woman Took on Misogyny and Sexual Violence in the Military Patrisse Cullors on a Lifetime of Activism and the Founding of Black Lives Matter Immigration Family Separation Update: Searching for Parents in Guatemala Abuse and Accountability at the Border A Humanitarian Crisis of Our Own Making Harnessing History and Solidarity to Stop Migrant Detention The Supreme Court Case Threatening Asylum Arts and Culture Sergio de la Pava on Literature and Law Comedian W. Kamau Bell on Making Sense of America A Poet Gives a 360 Degree View of the Criminal Justice System At Liberty Live from SXSW! Feat. Tom Morello Adam McKay on Dick Cheney’s Legacy Racial Justice America’s Criminalization of Blackness Since When Is Every Immigrant A Criminal? Why It’s Time to Talk About Reparations Centering Racial Equity in the Fight to Legalize Marijuana Nikole Hannah-Jones on The 1619 Project’s Reframing of American History Moments in History Supreme Court Dispatch: The Latest Threat to Abortion Access In Florida, a Historic Victory for Voting Rights Why the ACLU Opposes Kavanaugh Lessons From Charlottesville Lee Gelernt on a Major Victory for Immigrant Families Privacy and Surveillance How to Fight an Algorithm A Growing Movement for Ethical Tech The Threat of Facial Recognition The Next Frontier in Data Privacy How to Stop Your City from Spying on You A COVID-19 Balancing Act: Public Health and Privacy Celebrity Cameos Megan Rapinoe on Gender Discrimination, Athlete Activism, and LGBTQ Equality At Liberty Live! Feat. Olivia Wilde and Katie Silberman on “Booksmart” Wyatt Cenac on America’s Problem Areas Tarana Burke and Alyssa Milano on the Future of #MeToo Voting Rights Desmond Meade and Dale Ho on Restoring the Right to Vote  In Florida, a Historic Victory for Voting Rights Voting Rights and the Midterms The Racist Reality of Voter Supression Stacey Abrams Wants to Make Your Vote Count Criminal Justice A Nation in Love With Locking People Up Paul Butler on Policing Black Men and Transforming the System Why Incarceration Doesn’t Reduce Violence COVID-19 Response: Shrink the Criminal Justice Footprint Reproductive Rights Cecile Richards on the Fight for Reproductive Rights Whither Abortion Rights? The Latest Assault on Abortion Rights Abortion Rights: A Tale of Two States Pregnancy Discrimination a Mile High Supreme Court Dispatch: The Latest Threat to Abortion Access

There have been disease outbreaks throughout human history, but never one that has taken place in the era of high-tech tracking tools and “big data.”   Policymakers and technologists have proposed a number of ideas for leveraging such technologies to help suppress the spread of COVID-19. At the ACLU, we recognize the urgency of stemming the pandemic and re-opening America, and don’t think we should immediately write off any tools that may offer public health benefits. But we shouldn’t give up critical rights and freedoms unless a proposal is necessary, effective, and proportionate. We are particularly wary of technological solutions that would interfere with or divert resources away from public health solutions with proven effectiveness, or that risk exacerbating existing disparities that have already led to inequitable health outcomes.   A review of the most prominent proposals that have been put forward suggests that we need to remain vigilant lest we give away our liberty and get little in return. Here are just a few examples:

Andrea Circle Bear wasn’t given a death sentence.   She plead guilty last year to maintaining a drug-involved premises. She was sentenced to 26 months in federal prison.   But shortly after being transferred from a jail in South Dakota to a federal prison in Texas, Circle Bear died of COVID-19 while in custody, just 28 days after giving birth via C-section while on a ventilator. The 30-year-old member of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe in South Dakota was the first federally incarcerated woman to die from COVID-19.    Just how did a pregnant woman serving time for a drug offense get sent to a crowded federal women’s prison more than 1,000 miles away from her home?   A judge could have suspended her sentence and asked her to report to prison after giving birth. The Bureau of Prisons could have let her serve her sentence in home confinement.   But it’s not always that simple — in the criminal legal system generally, but especially in Indian Country.   For context, Indian Country is made up of 574 federally recognized tribes whose citizens live on 326 distinct Indian reservations spread across the United States. This federal recognition means that reservation lands are under federal jurisdiction supported by the Major Crimes Act, a U.S. statute that places certain crimes under federal jurisdiction if they are committed by a Native American on their homeland.   The result of this federal jurisdiction is that Native Americans, like Circle Bear, often face federal charges. Lesser crimes are under tribal jurisdiction. These court cases are prosecuted by federal prosecutors, held in federal courts, and presided over by federal judges, and, when and if they are found guilty, they are sentenced to federal penitentiaries. The result is that a disproportionate number of Native Americans are incarcerated in federal prisons. Native Americans make up less than 1 percent of the country’s population, but 2.3 percent of the BOP’s incarcerated population.   Circle Bear’s death is a startling wakeup call that shows the true cost of the U.S.’ obsession with mass incarceration during the COVID-19 pandemic.   That’s why the ACLU has put out a call for governors around the country, President Trump, and the BOP to release all pregnant people from prisons and jails who have less than a year remaining on their sentence. Doing so will mitigate the tragedy we’re facing and will benefit public health around the country, but it can’t change the fact that Circle Bear will never get to watch her newborn baby grow up.