ARMENTA | PROTECT, SERVE, AND DEPORT Luminos is the Open Access monograph publishing program from UC Press. Luminos provides a framework for preserving and reinvigorating monograph publishing for the future and increases the reach and visibility of important scholarly work. Titles published in the UC Press Luminos model are published with the same high standards for selection, peer review, production, and marketing as those in our traditional program. www.luminosoa.org Protect, Serve, and Deport Protect, Serve, and Deport The Rise of Policing as Immigration Enforcement Amada Armenta UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS University of California Press, one of the most distinguished university presses in the United States, enriches lives around the world by advancing scholarship in the humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences. Its activities are supported by the UC Press Foundation and by philanthropic contributions from individuals and institutions. For more information, visit www.ucpress.edu. University of California Press Oakland, California © 2017 by Amada Armenta Suggested citation: Armenta, Amada. Protect, Serve, and Deport: The Rise of Policing as Immigration Enforcement. Oakland: University of California Press, 2017. doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/luminos.33 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons CC-BY-NC-SA license. To view a copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Armenta, Amada, 1982– author. Title: Protect, serve, and deport : the rise of policing as immigration enforcement / Amada Armenta. Description: Oakland, California : University of California Press, [2017] | Includes bibliographical references and index.| Identifiers: LCCN 2017009460 (print) | LCCN 2017014271 (ebook) | ISBN 9780520968868 (ebook) | ISBN 9780520296305 (pbk. : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Immigration enforcement—Tennessee—Nashville. | Nashville (Tenn.)—Emigration and immigration—Government policy. | Illegal aliens—Government policy—United States. | Latin Americans— Tennessee—Nashville. | United States—Emigration and immigration— Government policy. Classification: LCC JV7095 (ebook) | LCC JV7095 .A76 2017 (print) | DDC 363.259/1370976855—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017009460 25 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Contents List of Illustrations vii Acknowledgments ix Introduction 1 1. Who Polices Immigration? 15 2. Setting Up the Local Deportation Regime 36 3. Being Proactive: On the Streets in Southeast Nashville 56 4. Seeing and Not Seeing Immigration: Immigrant Outreach in an Era of Proactive Policing 88 5. Inside the Jail: Processing Immigrants for Removal 110 6. Punishing Illegality 129 Conclusion 151 Appendix: Fieldwork FAQs 159 Notes 165 References 177 Index 191 Illustrations FIGURES 1. Traffic stops per year made by Metropolitan Nashville Police Department 59 2. Possible outcomes of police traffic stops for unauthorized immigrants 60 TABLE 1. Immigration detainers per year in Davidson County 145 vii Acknowledgments This is a book about policing, law enforcement, and immigration enforcement. I owe a deep debt of gratitude to the local officials, officers, leaders, immigrant- or ganizers, and immigrants in Nashville who facilitated access to people, spaces, and data so that I could conduct this project. I began my fieldwork as a graduate student at the University of California, Los Angeles and finished this book as an assistant professor at the University of Penn- sylvania. On the journey from L.A. to Philadelphia, I’ve had the good fortune of finding a place in a number of intellectual communities and institutions. Scholars often acknowledge that it takes “a village” to write a book. In my case, it took a universe of people. The UCLA Sociology Department is a special place, particularly for young scholars doing work on international migration. I cannot speak more positively about the training and intellectual community there and in the broader communi- ty of interdisciplinary scholars that formed part of the Migration Working Group. I developed this project through numerous conversations with friends and col- leagues, including Rocio Rosales, Laura Bekes, Nazgol Ghandnoosh, Marisa Pine- au, Anthony Alvarez, Sylvia Zamora, Wes Hiers, Forrest Stuart, Anthony Ocampo, Jooyoung Lee, Arpi Miller, and Renee Reichl Luthra. My dissertation committee, Roger Waldinger, David Hernández, Rubén Hernández-Leon, and Stefan Tim- mermans, were great supporters of this work. I would not be a sociologist without the guidance of two people. Katharine Donato met me as an eager teenage college student and suggested that I try my hand at sociological research. We joke that, as a result of Katharine’s fortuitous suggestion, I accidentally became a sociologist (so, thank you?). Kidding aside, ix x Acknowledgments over the past sixteen years, Katharine has been my professor, my surrogate family, and my friend and colleague. At UCLA, Roger Waldinger was the best mentor that one could hope to have. I am deeply indebted to him for his intellectual generosity, support, and meticulous feedback on years of drafts, memos, chapters, articles, and applications. Someday, I hope that someone feels as proud of being “Amada’s student” as I have been to be both of yours. During this project, I received generous financial and fellowship support from UCLA, the American Sociological Association’s Minority Fellowship Program, the Mellon Mays Foundation, the Social Science Research Council, the American So- ciety of Criminology Ruth D. Peterson Fellowship for Racial and Ethnic Diversity, the National Science Foundation Dissertation Improvement Grant, and the Uni- versity of California, San Diego Center for Comparative Immigration Studies. I would be remiss if I did not also mention that my mom’s generosity kept me afloat during some lean months. The Alicia Armenta scholarship fund is the gift that keeps on giving. Since UCLA, I have found intellectual homes at Vanderbilt, UCSD’s Center for Comparative Immigration Studies, Cornell University’s Institute for Social Scienc- es, the Racial Democracy, Crime and Justice Network at the Ohio State University and the University of Pennsylvania’s sociology department. My analysis benefited tremendously from feedback I received at these institutions, and many others, where I have had the opportunity to present. Numerous scholars have had a hand in helping me develop my ideas at vari- ous stages of this project. They include Leisy Abrego, Kate Cagney, Sergio Chavez, David Cort, Els de Graauw, Stephanie DiPietro, Charles (Chuck) Epp, Eliza- beth Fussell, Shannon Gleeson, Tanya Golash-Boza, Onoso Imoagene, Michael Jones-Correa, Armando Lara-Millan, Ramiro Martinez, Steven Maynard-Moody, Cristina Mora, Peter Moskos, Efrén Pérez, Doris Marie Provine, Audrey Singer, Jamie Winders, Robert Vargas (props for helping me brainstorm titles), Monica Varsanyi, Irene Vega, and Audra Wolfe. Thanks also to my tireless undergraduate research assistant, Isabela Alvarez. I’d like to acknowledge several additional people whose enthusiasm for this project sustained me even when I was writing in circles. Mathew Coleman encour- aged me to push harder when my analysis was too charitable. Cecilia Menjívar provided practical suggestions during the final push. At Penn, Emilio Parrado, Chenoa Flippen, and Melissa Wilde have been fountains of wisdom. The generous and encouraging reviewers at UC Press, editor Maura Roessner, and the entire team helped me mold this final product. I express my sincerest gratitude to copy editor Elisabeth Magnus for paying tireless attention to detail and for enduring my endless tinkering. Fieldwork and writing can be lonely endeavors, but great friends and loved ones inserted moments of joy and levity. My gChat buddies, Irene and Shannon, kept Acknowledgments xi me company during endless days and nights in front of the computer. In Nashville: Katharine, Tammy, Melody, Efrén, Erin, Katherine, and Chris. In Ithaca: Veronica, Mike, and Gustavo. In Philadelphia: Jennifer, Nina, and Niambi. In addition, Luís’s deep reservoir of emotional support kept me going, even while I cheated on him with this manuscript. I offer my deepest thanks to mi familia, including the members who are no longer with us. I am part of an amazing family that loves unconditionally, that deeply values education, and that believes in me. My tías, tíos, primos, and primas have always thought it’s awesome to have a PhD in the family, even though they’re not at all clear about how I spend my days. To my dad, Alejandro Armenta, whose accomplished career sparked my early and enduring obsessions with law, politics, and justice. Armando and Lisa’s encouragement has sustained me for years—it’s worth mentioning that Armando has been my hero and cheerleader for as long as I can remember. My Nana Lola has nourished my stomach and my soul by filling my freezer with tortillas, lighting candles, and praying to diosito that I would fin- ish. I think it worked. Gracias, Nana. Most importantly, words cannot convey the depths of my love, respect, and devotion to my mother, Alicia Armenta. I am so proud to be your daughter. Thank you for everything. Introduction Juan moved to Smyrna, a small town twenty-five miles outside Nashville, Ten- nessee, directly from Guatemala in 2005. He drove himself to work every day at a factory that prepared bagged salads. However, because Juan was in the country without permission, he was ineligible for a Tennessee driver’s license. This meant that every time Juan got behind the wheel, he was breaking the law. Within five years of moving to Smyrna, Juan had been stopped by local police three times. The first two stops, which occurred in 2006 and 2007, were virtually identical. Both times officers stopped Juan for speeding and arrested him for driving without a license. The first time Juan was arrested, he was scared. He had not been in the United States long and could not communicate with the patrol officer or jail staff. Moreover, he had never been handcuffed, put in the back of a patrol car, and placed in a jail cell. He was not a criminal. However, Juan was in and out of custody the same day.