“Everybody applaud. We are very proud of you,” Judge John Milo Bryant said. The crowd in Courtroom Six, a windowless, low-ceilinged, fluorescent-lit room complied with the judge’s request, one that was more successful than Jeb Bush’s infamous “please clap.” Dozens of the assembled burst into applause for the 18-year old named Katharine, an illegal immigrant from Central America who told the court that she had just graduated from high school.
Judge Bryant, a mild, good-humored judge who looks like the actor Richard Jenkins, would preside over Katharine’s case as one of dozens this Thursday morning at Arlington Immigration Court in the Washington suburb’s Crystal City neighborhood. These are Master Calendar Hearings, typically the first legal proceeding in an immigration case. They are open to the public. Asylum hearings, by contrast, are closed to the public, unless the defendant wants you there. I learned this the hard way as I was booted from an asylum hearing later that day. A Master Calendar Hearing is typically the beginning of the process by which the Department of Homeland Security attempts to deport a person who is here illegally.
Judge Bryant is an old pro at Master Calendar Hearings, in contrast to many of the immigration lawyers representing the defense—quite a few of whom look like they just started shaving and who stammered under even the gentlest questioning. Bryant has been an immigration judge since 1987 and takes obvious pride in his easy-going manner. “Civility, graciousness and kindness are the hallmarks of room six,” he said at one point. He might have added speed: In not quite ninety minutes, Bryant presided over twelve cases.
Nearly all of those cases ended up with the judge granting a continuance, basically, a delay in the deportation proceedings, while the respondents apply for legal residency. As if by rote, the DHS’s counsel objected to each continuance request, only to be overruled by the judge. Some cases were pushed out all the way to 2021, perhaps a reflection of the judge’s hope that by then a presidential administration that takes a more lenient view of illegal immigration will be in office. Not a single case on the docket this day involved an immigrant from Mexico, by the way. All hailed from Guatemala, El Salvador, or Honduras.
Immigration court highlights a fundamental clash of two conservative values: The rule of law versus family values. Quite plainly, you can’t maintain national sovereignty if you don’t enforce immigration laws—that way lies anarchy. Not to mention, as Harvard economist George Borjas has demonstrated, reduced wages for American workers.
But strict enforcement at home leads to some truly awful outcomes—outcomes that tear families apart. In courtroom six that morning, Judge Bryant presided over a case in which DHS is trying to deport a 23 year-old man who is married to an American citizen, father to an American-born son, and step-father to an American-born daughter. The kids were present in court that day, and clung to their father’s leg as he addressed the judge. (The defendant was granted a continuance.)
A shocking number of children were hauled into court that day too, most with mothers in tow. Judge Bryant, speaking through an interpreter, treated them kindly, (“Good morning! What grade are you in?”), and they were all granted continuances. But that can only go on for so long: Eventually, they will need to secure legal status, or DHS will move forcefully for their removal from the country.
Terrible, wrenching cases like these would seem to bolster the case for President Donald Trump’s wall, or at the very least, a tougher emphasis on enforcement at the border, before people come into America and build a precarious life here. Serious border enforcement would reduce the number of people who come here illegally only to end up in tragic situations like those seen in courtroom six.
Tragic situations like that of Claudia, a thirteen year-old in court that morning who, her lawyer indicated, intends to file for asylum. Judge Bryant granted a continuance until October 25.
“Have a great summer,” the judge said to Claudia as she left the courtroom. A summer, no doubt, of waiting and worrying.
