Immigration laws are broken — why it should matter to Arizonans
Posted
Joshua Kolsrud
Photo by Claudia Johnstone
People like Andrés, Maria and Jorge are not abstractions. They are our neighbors, our coworkers, our fellow Americans in every way except on paper. It is time we recognize that reality.”
In a small, dimly lit courtroom in Arizona, a man sat before the judge, his hands clenched, his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. Andrés had lived in the U.S. for 15 years, working as a roofer, paying taxes and raising two children who were U.S. citizens.
But an expired visa, an old misdemeanor and a chance encounter with immigration enforcement had put Andrés in shackles, facing deportation to a country he hadn’t seen since he was a teenager.
His federal public defender argued that he had a right to remain, that his children needed him, that he had no serious criminal history. The judge listened but was bound by laws written decades ago — laws that offered no discretion, no flexibility and no understanding of Andrés’ reality. Within minutes, the gavel fell. He was ordered removed.
For those of us who work in the legal system, Andrés’ story is painfully common. He is not a criminal mastermind nor a threat to national security. He is a father, a worker, a member of the community. And yet, under the weight of America’s rigid, outdated immigration laws, his life was upended in a matter of minutes.
As a former federal prosecutor in Yuma, I handled more than 3,000 border-related cases as an assistant U.S. attorney. I saw families separated, asylum seekers turned away, and individuals prosecuted for nothing more than an expired visa. The system wasn’t just broken — it was chaotic, inconsistent and often inhumane. It is time we faced the failures of our immigration system head-on.
A system that doesn’t work
America’s immigration laws were largely designed for a world that no longer exists. The framework for our current system was built in 1965 when the Immigration and Nationality Act replaced the race-based quotas of the early 20th century. It was a well-intentioned reform, aimed at making immigration fairer and more accessible. But it was also a system designed for a different era — one where migration patterns, economic needs and global conflicts looked nothing like they do today.
Today, wait times for legal immigration are staggering. A skilled worker from India applying for a green card today might not receive one for 90 years due to per-country quotas. A Mexican sibling of a U.S. citizen could wait two decades for family reunification. The system does not function at the speed of life.
At the same time, the laws governing undocumented individuals are a contradictory maze. Some laws encourage them to remain in the shadows, while others punish them for trying to legalize their status. The 1996 Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act made it nearly impossible for undocumented individuals to adjust their status without leaving the country for 10 years — a penalty that forces many to stay put rather than risk separation from their families.
Meanwhile, Temporary Protected Status exists for those fleeing disasters or violence, but it is neither temporary nor protected in any real sense. Once granted, it often lasts decades, leaving recipients in a permanent state of legal uncertainty, unable to plan their futures.
The burden on law enforcement
For law enforcement officers — whether local police or federal immigration agents — this system is a nightmare. Local police are often caught in the crossfire of conflicting federal and state policies. Some jurisdictions insist on cooperation with ICE, while others prohibit it. Officers on the ground are left to navigate a legal minefield, unsure of their authority.
In Yuma, I saw firsthand how the system overwhelmed law enforcement, flooded courts and left both officers and migrants in legal limbo. Many cases were low-level offenses — crossing illegally for the first time, overstaying a visa — yet the legal process treated them the same as serious felonies. The sheer volume of cases meant that each one received minimal time, with little room for discretion or nuance.
Federal immigration agents, on the other hand, are given broad enforcement discretion but little guidance. The same individual might be deported under one administration and granted relief under another. This inconsistency creates confusion, fear and a perception of unfairness that undermines trust in the entire system.
Prosecutors and judges, too, find themselves constrained. Immigration judges face massive backlogs — more than 2.6 million cases are currently pending, with an average wait time of over four years. Many judges hear hundreds of cases per month, reducing their ability to thoroughly evaluate each case.
The human cost
Beyond the legal and logistical failures, there is an undeniable human toll. Families are separated. Businesses struggle to find workers. Children raised in the U.S. are deported to countries they do not remember.
Consider the case of Maria, a Dreamer brought to the U.S. at age 2. She grew up pledging allegiance to the American flag, attended college on scholarships, and now works as a nurse. Yet, she has no path to citizenship. If DACA protections are rescinded, she could be sent back to a country she has never known.
Or take Jorge, a U.S. Army veteran who served two tours in Iraq. After his service, he struggled with PTSD and was convicted of a minor drug offense. That conviction made him deportable, despite his military service. He was sent to Mexico, where he knew no one and had no support.
These are not anomalies. They are the rule.
What needs to change?
The solutions to America’s immigration crisis are not as radical as some might think. They require pragmatism, not politics.
1. Modernize the legal immigration system. Increase visa quotas, clear the backlog and create an efficient process for those who want to come legally.
2. Provide a pathway to legalization for the undocumented. A realistic solution must acknowledge that mass deportation is neither practical nor humane. A rigorous but fair process for undocumented immigrants to earn legal status is necessary.
3. Fix asylum and humanitarian protections. The U.S. must refine asylum laws to differentiate between economic migrants and those fleeing genuine persecution, while also providing a structured way for migrants to seek safety.
4. Give judges more discretion. Immigration judges should have the same ability as criminal court judges to consider individual circumstances, weigh evidence and issue fair decisions.
5. Clarify the role of state and local law enforcement. Federal immigration enforcement should not be a patchwork of conflicting policies but a clear and consistent approach that respects state authority while upholding federal law.
The time for reform is now
For too long, immigration has been treated as a political talking point rather than a policy crisis demanding serious solutions. The system is broken — not just for immigrants, but for law enforcement, the courts and the American people as a whole.
People like Andrés, Maria and Jorge are not abstractions. They are our neighbors, our coworkers, our fellow Americans in every way except on paper. It is time we recognize that reality.
Fixing America’s immigration system will require courage, compromise and an honest acknowledgment of what is not working. But if we fail to act, the consequences will continue to ripple through our society — one family, one worker, one shattered life at a time.
The question is not whether immigration reform is necessary. The question is whether we have the will to fix what is obviously broken.
Editor’s note: Joshua Kolsrud is a criminal defense attorney at Kolsrud Law Offices in Phoenix. He also was an assistant U.S. attorney and spent 14 years as a prosecutor. Please send your comments to AzOpinions@iniusa.org. We are committed to publishing a wide variety of reader opinions, as long as they meet our Civility Guidelines.
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