Thread: Latinos flee Oklahoma; new law hits others, too

Latinos flee Oklahoma; new law hits others, too
Sunday, September 7, 2008 1:34 AM
By Todd Jones

THE COLUMBUS DISPATCH





Leticia, whose husband is undocumented, works in Tulsa as a nurse at a health service. The number of its Hispanic clients has declined.

TULSA, Okla. - Even those used to powerful gusts here in tornado alley weren't prepared for what happened when the rhetoric swirling around immigration touched down as law.

Some were swept up in unexpected consequences, hassled with more paperwork and longer lines to receive an identification card or bounced from state medical rolls.

Many others were blown out of town, even out of state.

Estimates indicate that up to 25,000 Latinos have fled Tulsa County, and an unknown number have left the state since Democratic Gov. Brad Henry signed one of the nation's toughest immigration laws in May 2007. (Mississippi enacted a similar law in July.)

"That was the purpose," said state Rep. Randy Terrill, a Republican from Moore, Okla., who wrote the law that took effect Nov. 1. "It's attrition through an enforcement approach to solving illegal immigration."

Latino advocates, however, describe a subsequent climate of fear and racism that's as palpable as the relentless wind that sweeps across this heartland state.

"You don't have to be undocumented to feel as if you're targeted by this law," said the Rev. Julian Rodriguez, a U.S. citizen who moved from Mexico in 1983.

The fallout - intended and unintended - gives Ohio lawmakers much to consider as they decide whether to follow Oklahoma's lead.

The law makes it a felony to transport, conceal, harbor or shelter illegal immigrants.

Strict enforcement of identification and paperwork requirements has caused headaches for all citizens. No one predicted longer lines and delays for everyone receiving or renewing a driver's license.

No one anticipated that nearly 6,000 people - mostly nonimmigrants - would be dropped from SoonerCare, the state Medicaid program. Of those removed in December, 58 percent were white and 62 percent were children. They failed to provide all of the required new paperwork to prove legal residence.

Few foresaw that immigrants would become easier targets for criminals, who know they'll be reluctant to contact authorities for fear of deportation.

Despite such unintended consequences, Oklahoma's anti-immigration crackdown has been wildly popular in polls since the legislation sailed through the state's Republican-dominated legislature.

"It's working great, bud; it really is," said Dan Howard, founder of Outraged Patriots, an Oklahoma-based Web site focusing on immigration.

Business organizations, however, have joined a legal challenge to the law filed by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. An Oklahoma federal judge issued a preliminary injunction blocking enforcement of job-related parts of the new law that was scheduled to take effect this summer, and said it is "substantially likely" the law is unconstitutional.

The law's other provisions remain in effect.

Enforcement varies from community to community. Most agree that Tulsa has become the epicenter of the crackdown in a state where immigrants have accounted for nearly 30 percent of the population growth in the past eight years.

Oklahoma's Latino population has jumped nearly 45 percent since 2000 and is now about 7 percent of the 3.6 million residents. The Pew Hispanic Center estimated in 2006 that 75,000 were living illegally in the state.

For many Latinos living in Oklahoma - legally or illegally - the law has caused pain.

"We've lost the sense of belonging," said Sebastian Lantos, a Tulsa Democrat seeking to become the first Hispanic elected to the state legislature.

If anything, Oklahoma's controversial law has reinforced the walls between its critics and proponents.

"Other than the threat of terrorism, illegal immigration may be the biggest threat facing this nation," Terrill said. "The future of the republic may depend on it."

The gray-haired grandmother was set to call her meeting to order but first wanted to make something known about her nonpartisan lobbyist group: Immigration Reform for Oklahoma Now.

"We don't get into abortion and gays and all that," Carol Helm said. "It's just the illegal alien invasion and the cost of that issue."

She had photocopied articles, papers from Terrill and memorized statistics at her disposal, including an estimate by the Federation for American Immigration Reform that Oklahoma spends about $207 million a year in public funds for illegal immigrants.

The nonprofit immigration reform group based in Washington, D.C., came up with its figure by applying studies of nine other states to its estimate of 83,000 illegal immigrants in Oklahoma.

The state does not have its own estimated total cost of services for illegal immigrants.

"It's about the money, money, money, money, money," said Helm, 65, who created the reform group five years ago after "an invader" killed a cow belonging to her relatives. "We citizens can't continue to have our taxes raised to subsidize them."

No opposing views were heard in the next 90 minutes at the Tulsa City-County Library as the group held its monthly meeting in April. All 17 attendees were white senior citizens, most in blue jeans, brought together in a small, windowless room.

"We have chaos," said Bill Kohl, 81, of Tulsa.

The seniors spoke of disaster, travesty, threats and a derelict federal government.

"We haven't talked about national security, letting all those unknowns come in," said Charlene Fholer, 71, of Tulsa.

A woman said that immigrants are "having children, children and children. We Caucasians are not. Pretty soon, they're going to outnumber us. That's what they're working on."

The group vented about immigrants not wanting to assimilate and how they're eroding the city's culture.

"When you tolerate lawlessness, then that breeds more lawlessness," said Richard "'Top" Winters, 80. "It's accepted in Mexico and other places."

The Tulsa resident stood up and declared that Oklahoma "must keep these jackasses from having driver's licenses."

By meeting's end, with emotions surging, members were talking over one another.

The Rev. Rodriguez's flock of worshipers, about 20 on this weekday evening, knelt in prayer inside a cement church near a Tulsa International Airport runway.

The pastor of Iglesia Eficaz, an Assembly of God church, stood outside and sighed as the sun set. "This particular law is an attack on unity," he said. "It's easy to scapegoat Hispanics and say this is the reason why we have problems."

Extreme voices of dissent shout about "ethnic cleansing" and "Gestapo tactics," but softer words scream louder about fear.

Pam Herrera, 24, refuses to make a turn in her car if a police officer is behind her.

"I just go straight so I don't have to use my signal," said the health clinic worker. "I feel like they're following me around, waiting for me to do something wrong."

And Herrera is a U.S. citizen.

Rey Saldierna, too, is a citizen, as are his wife and daughter, a Marine. The carpenter has lived in the country for 28 years, the past nine in Tulsa. He talked about selling his house and moving to Texas."My wife and I want to be somewhere where we feel welcomed," Saldierna said. "I can feel racism in some places here, and I didn't before."

Julio Reiguero knew he wasn't welcome because he sat in the Tulsa County jail. After living in Columbus for six months, the Mexican citizen returned to Tulsa in December for a construction job.

Arrested in March and charged with driving under the influence, he awaited deportation from a country he's lived in for nine years.

"We want to be here on good terms, but there's no way you can get your (documentation) papers," said Reiguero, one of 1,173 immigrants detained at the Tulsa County jail since the new law took effect. "If it wasn't so difficult, everybody would try to get their papers."

Across town, three families from Rodriguez's congregation fled Oklahoma when the immigration law passed. Others have gone underground. They used to squeeze in 200 people for a typical Sunday ceremony. Now, about 100 attend.

Rodriguez canceled the all-night Friday prayer meetings because he didn't want his congregation out past 10 p.m. for fear that some would be picked up by the police and deported.

He sold the church's van because he feared he'd be arrested for driving illegal immigrants.

He has five children of his own, but since the law passed, he has taken on power of attorney for another 50 children from his church, all citizens born to illegal immigrant parents.

Irony abounded one spring morning at the Oklahoma Capitol: A crew of Latino workers tended to flower beds on the lawn of the statehouse - a building with a Native American statue on top and law-making descendants of European immigrants inside.

And in that building, the Republican who hand-wrote the law targeting immigrants painted some as thugs and killers as he sat a few miles from where home-grown terrorist Timothy McVeigh killed 168 people by blowing up the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in 1995.

"How do you put a money figure on illegal aliens, not supposed to be here in the first place, when they rape, rob or murder one of our citizens?" said Terrill, who has been called "El Diablo" (the devil) by some Latino critics.

His passion poured forth in two hours, with taps on a wooden table for emphasis.

Terrill said he was "tickled pink" that his state is the "tip of the spear" for immigration reform. He's pleased that Ohio and other states are using the Oklahoma law as a model, even though he has been attacked with hate mail and threatening telephone calls to his home, his likeness has been the target of darts at a Latino fair, and his campaign signs have been defaced.

The new law "does not care what your skin color is or if you speak with an accent or what your last name is," Terrill said. "What it cares about is, 'Are you in the country legally?' I remind you, being a criminal is not a protected class."

A few weeks later, the Oklahoma legislature backed off Terrill's plans to strengthen the immigration law, the Senate unexpectedly defeated his bill declaring English as the state's official language, and a federal judge granted a preliminary injunction against parts of the state law.

About 100 miles northeast of the opulent, dark-wooded Senate meeting room where Terrill had defended the law, a woman sat exhausted in a concrete-block office.

Social worker Margarita Summers, a U.S. citizen, wondered if any backlash against Oklahoma's immigration law would be too little, too late.

The grandmother, a Tulsa resident since coming from Mexico in 1983, bemoaned how the law has changed her city and state, and how she sees fear in the eyes of all Hispanics.

"I don't think it'll ever be normal again here," she said. "This law is like a cancer. It can be pacified in some ways, but it won't end. To me, it's a terminal illness."

Free-lance photographer Leonardo Carrizo served as interpreter for interviews with Spanish-speaking sources.


A contract crew of Hispanic landscapers tend to the flowers on the grounds of the Statehouse in Oklahoma City. (Photo by Leonardo Carrizo)
http://tinyurl.com/68oa4a

I hope that the gardeners have been screened.

"We've lost the sense of belonging," said Sebastian Lantos, a Tulsa Democrat seeking to become the first Hispanic elected to the state legislature.

Looks to me like this would make hispanic citizens angrier at the illegal aliens than at the laws of this country. They and our traitorous government officials along with the businesses that created the problem are the real ones to blame. Not the ones that are having to do the tough job of cleaning up the mess.

Introduction: Foreign fallout
Tough line on immigration touches everyone

Sunday, September 7, 2008 1:01 AM
By Jill Riepenhoff and Stephanie Czekalinski


THE COLUMBUS DISPATCH

The crackdown on immigrants living here illegally has spread to nearly every corner of the United States -- in statehouses, county courthouses, even the next-door neighbor's house.

States, counties and private citizens frustrated by federal inaction have taken matters into their own hands.

Oklahoma passed a law last year to drive illegal immigrants out of the state. It worked, as an estimated 25,000 Latinos have left the Tulsa area alone. Similar bills have been introduced in Ohio and at least a dozen other states.

Get-tough laws, however, have created unintended consequences for U.S. citizens, employers and foreigners living here legally.

In Oklahoma, about 3,600 poor children were booted from a government health-care program because of problems with their Social Security numbers. Most were not immigrants.

U.S. citizens renewing driver's licenses in Alabama waited for hours because of confusion over all of the documents required to prove identity.

In Virginia, police feared that immigrants who witnessed the slaying of a shopkeeper never came forward because they feared deportation.

A Pennsylvania tomato farmer shut down his 700-acre operation because crackdowns drove away migrant workers.

The push for new laws comes after nearly two-thirds of Ohioans surveyed by Quinnipiac University last November said that illegal immigration was a "very serious problem."

State lawmakers this fall must decide: Will Ohio crack down, back down or find some middle ground on an issue that has befuddled Congress for years?

A four-day series on the issue begins today.



http://tinyurl.com/5cxct4

Cracking down
Sunday, September 7, 2008 5:06 AM



House Bill 308, introduced by state Rep. Courtney E. Combs, a Republican from Butler County, is one of five bills pending that would turn up the heat on immigrants living, working and passing through Ohio illegally. It's modeled on Oklahoma's immigration law, which took effect last fall. Here's a snapshot of its key proposals:

Bans transportation of illegal immigrants. Buses and taxis are exempted. Violators can spend at least a year in jail.

Requires sheriffs to verify the citizenship status of immigrants jailed on felony or drunken-driving charges.

Requires public agencies and subcontractors to check Social Security numbers of every employee through the federal employment verification system.

Bans public assistance to illegal immigrants over the age of 13, except for emergency medical care, immunizations, treatment for a communicable disease and disaster relief.

Forbids colleges - public and private - from providing scholarships, financial aid, grants, loans or tuition discounts to illegal immigrants.

OTHER PENDING BILLS:

House Bill 409 would require all commercial driving tests to be taken in English.

House Bill 477 would require all public agencies in Ohio to conduct business in English.

House Bill 541 would require proof of legal status to register a vehicle.

Senate Bill 260 would give local law-enforcement officers authority to enforce federal immigration laws.

Source: Ohio Legislative Service Commission
http://tinyurl.com/5fh6a9

Few foresaw that immigrants would become easier targets for criminals, who know they'll be reluctant to contact authorities for fear of deportation.

Prove it. This is just MSM Spin.

They are coming to Texas. It's hard to tell how many becasue cheep Okies buy Texas tags and use a friend or relatives address because license tags in OK are more expensive than TX tags.

Dixie

Leticia, whose husband is undocumented, works in Tulsa as a nurse at a health service. The number of its Hispanic clients has declined.

What is an illegal alien doing working at a "health service" of all places?

"You don't have to be undocumented to feel as if you're targeted by this law," said the Rev. Julian Rodriguez, a U.S. citizen who moved from Mexico in 1983.

That is a dumb thing to say Rev Rodriquez. The only people that need to worry about the new law are illegal immigrants.

No one anticipated that nearly 6,000 people - mostly nonimmigrants - would be dropped from SoonerCare, the state Medicaid program. Of those removed in December, 58 percent were white and 62 percent were children.

Okay. Where are the 58% of the white people and why arent their stories being told? Why is this ALL ABOUT ILLEGAL ALIENS?

And why must these article point out that 62% are "children" dropped from SoonerCare? So? I DONT WANT TO PAY FOR AN ILLEGAL ALIEN CHILD TO RECEIVE FREE MEDICAL CARE JUST LIKE I DONT EXPECT OTHER PEOPLE TO PAY FOR MY CHILDRENS MEDICAL BILLS.

For many Latinos living in Oklahoma - legally or illegally - the law has caused pain.
"We've lost the sense of belonging," said Sebastian Lantos, a Tulsa Democrat seeking to become the first Hispanic elected to the state legislature.

There should have never been a "sense of belonging" because illegal aliens DONT BELONG HERE. See what happens when Hispanics are elected into office? They all end up supporting their own.

Backlash in the heartland
Tougher enforcement turns up heat on illegal immigrants

Sunday, September 7, 2008 1:32 AM
By Jill Riepenhoff and Stephanie Czekalinski

THE COLUMBUS DISPATCH




Maria, an immigrant from El Salvador, lives, drives and works in the shadows of Columbus. Last year, she entered the United States illegally.


Maria, who lives here illegally, works double shifts at a restaurant, earning $3.50 an hour before taxes.

The young woman climbed into a van with a man she had paid $6,500 to take her out of El Salvador and smuggle her into the United States.

Destination? Columbus, where her brothers settled a few years ago to work.

Maria's journey began just after immigration reform imploded in Congress.

She crossed undetected in July 2007 and quickly learned that her new way of life is full of contradictions.

She and others working here illegally can pay into Social Security but can't collect benefits if they are disabled, retire or die.

They can collect workers' compensation benefits if they are injured on the job but can't legally work.

They can play the lottery but can't collect jackpots.

They can open a bank account but can't take out a home mortgage without valid identification.

They can buy a car and register it but can't have a driver's license.

"I knew it would be that way before I came," Maria said. "But one comes with the hope that she can find a way to enter the world of opportunities."

After a year in Columbus, the 25-year-old immigrant has yet to settle comfortably. She knows little English, has no savings and isn't sure whom to trust if she's in trouble.

"There are some things that you don't even ask, because you're afraid," she said.

Maria asked The Dispatch not to use her full name or identify her employer for fear of retribution. Like other Latinos living in Ohio illegally - as many as 145,000 - she worries that any encounter with a stranger could lead to deportation.

Consider what has happened in the past year:

The federal Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency has increased the number of agents in Ohio from eight to more than 40.

Across the country, more than 60 local law-enforcement agencies, including the Butler County sheriff's office north of Cincinnati, have received special training from ICE to enforce federal immigration laws. Before 2007, only eight agencies were certified.

Someone anonymously called the television show America's Most Wanted and claimed that a notorious Latino criminal lived in a South Side house. The tip led to a raid and deportations. None of the Latinos were on a most-wanted list. Police suspect a neighbor pulled the stunt.

Federal agents deported Maria's brother this year after he was picked up for driving drunk in central Ohio.

Advocates for stricter enforcement applaud the new climate.

"They've had their way for so long. Now there's some growing opposition," said Steve Salvi, a northeastern Ohio paralegal who runs a Web site on the ills of illegal immigration. "They need to respect our laws."

Advocates for immigrants' rights, however, aren't clapping.

"This encourages racial profiling," said Virginia Martinez, attorney for the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund. "It's part of that 'Let's get ''em' attitude. Many of the people here don't have a criminal record. They're here without papers, and that's it."

Immigrants find themselves in the political crosshairs in a new fight over their presence - this time, involving proposed state laws.

One Ohio bill calls for making English the official state language. Another seeks to give local police power to investigate immigration violations.

The most far-reaching bill, sponsored by state Rep. Courtney E. Combs, calls for all people - including U.S. citizens - looking for a job, rental house, college education or routine medical checkup to prove they live here legally.

Among other things, the bill seeks to penalize employers who hire illegal workers, bar poor teenagers without visas from tax-funded benefits such as routine medical care, and jail people who house or transport immigrants living here illegally.

Gov. Ted Strickland, a former U.S. representative, worries about the consequences of a patchwork of state laws aimed at driving away immigrants.

"This is an issue that cries out for a federal solution so there can be consistency," Strickland said. "We can't have 50 different sets of laws."

To date, lawmakers have paid little attention to Combs' bill, but last spring, other immigration bills suddenly were put on the path to law.

"This focus is misdirected," said Ezra C. Escudero, executive director of the Ohio Commission on Hispanic/Latino Affairs, a state office that advises the legislature and governor on issues affecting the Latino community. "Ohio faces too many other challenges. Why do we want to scare so many people away?"

Combs disagrees. "We need to recognize illegal immigration is a problem. The longer it goes, the worse it gets. We're just getting overrun," the Butler County Republican said.

The fates of Combs, Escudero and the immigrant, Maria, now are intertwined in the larger political battle, which could affect daily life for all Ohioans.


State Rep. Courtney E. Combs, right, meets with one of his constituents, Gene Jacoby, in the Butler County Government Services Center in Hamilton.


Ezra C. Escudero, executive director of the Ohio Commission on Hispanic/Latino Affairs, talks with a colleague as legislators debate a proposed law that would make English the official language in Ohio. The debate is likely to continue this fall.


Longtime friends, Combs and Butler County Sheriff Richard K. Jones visited the Arizona-Mexico border last fall.

The lawmaker

On a summer day, two years before Maria came to Columbus, a 9-year-old girl was kidnapped off the streets of Hamilton in southwestern Ohio and raped.

The police suspected a Latino living in the country illegally.

That unsolved crime in Combs' hometown motivated him to put the squeeze on those who break immigration law.

"Do I think it's the state's job to do this? No. It's the federal government's job," he said. "But they aren't doing it."

Combs, 63, a real-estate broker and father of five, lives where the debate over immigration is fierce. Butler County Sheriff Richard K. Jones has garnered national attention for his get-tough, get-lost approach toward violators. He and Combs have been friends for 20 years.

On last year's anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attack by Arabs who entered the country with visas, Combs introduced a bill to crack down on immigrants without proper papers. The bill mirrored one passed in Oklahoma months earlier.

"I'm not for throwing every illegal alien out of Ohio. But what we're doing right now is not good," Combs said. "How many are there? We don't even know."

The Pew Hispanic Center estimates that a third to half of Ohio's 284,000 Latinos live here illegally. While not all violators are Latino, the majority are.

Even less is known about who has committed violent crimes or has been living and working here peacefully without a valid visa.

For example, in Virginia, authorities discovered more than 170 illegal immigrants on its sex-offender registry this year.

In Ohio, federal authorities are identifying and deporting immigrants serving time in prisons for felonies and sweeping jails of those who broke lesser laws.

In Franklin County, law-enforcement officers sometimes struggle to confirm identities. Without a valid photo ID, officers don't know if the person is a criminal or just a bad driver.

"I want to know who they are, where they are and if they have a criminal background," Combs said. "It's been seven years since 9/11, and you can still smuggle into the country. I do not want to wake up to another tragedy and hear that they came through the (Mexican) border."

The adviser

Five years ago, as Maria was studying for a career in journalism in El Salvador, journalist Ezra Escudero was launching his new career here in state government as the voice on Latino issues.

The two never have met but now find their lives connected by immigration issues that seem to arise every presidential-election year.

"Stuff like the English-only bill, it's largely presidential politics. It's a wedge issue," said Escudero, a first-generation American who heads the Ohio Latino affairs commission.

But he views the current crop of get-tough proposals - especially Combs' bill - as "just evil."

Escudero, 34, now finds himself in an awkward position. As the commission's leader, he is expected to advise the governor and lawmakers of the pros and cons of bills affecting Latinos, not to advocate for them or rally against them.

But as one of only two high-ranking Latino officials in state government (Public Safety Director Henry Guzman is the other), Escudero struggles to remain neutral.

His parents emigrated legally from Mexico in 1968 and settled in Mansfield. Escudero moved to Columbus, graduated from Ohio State and published a bilingual newspaper for three years.

Polished and poised, Escudero rose quickly to a position of authority in state government. He is the most influential Latino in legislative circles.

He couches his comments about the crackdown bills with phrases such as "in my opinion" or "this is just me talking," but he can't help but inch away from that middle ground on Combs' bill.

"This isn't just about attacking a minority of a minority," he said. "It's about racist overtones."

Take, for example, the provision that would cut access to college for anyone living here illegally.

"Do we really want a bunch of high-school dropouts living in our country?" Escudero said. "What happened to the Judeo-Christian tradition that you don't hold the children accountable for the sins of their fathers? It wasn't the child's fault he was brought here.



The immigrant

From El Salvador, Maria slipped through Guatemala and into Mexico.

Her smuggler zigzagged across Mexico, evading or bribing the authorities who could send her home.

Maria and 200 other Latin Americans in her group walked across the hilly scrub land that separates Mexico and Arizona. She headed for Columbus.

She came with dreams to finish college and launch a career.

By most standards, Maria lived a comfortable life in Central America, in a middle-class neighborhood. She taught children with AIDS. She attended college. She worked as a loan officer.

But the credit crunch that sucker-punched the U.S. economy also hurt El Salvador. Her income from the bank virtually evaporated, as did prospects for future financial stability.

Maria decided that she would give herself six years in Ohio to make it.

"After that time, if my life isn't changed, and there isn't a chance things will change (politically), maybe I'll consider" leaving, she said.

For now, she works to erase the $2,000 debt she owes the smuggler.

She works double shifts at a restaurant earning $3.50 an hour plus tips before taxes are deducted. Customers unwittingly teach her bits of English as they talk among themselves.

She'd like to attend college but knows it's unlikely. Few schools allow someone without a Social Security number or a visa to enroll. Some charge tuition at international-student rates, which can be triple the amount for an Ohio resident.

Maria's life in Columbus is typical of those who steal over the border or stay after their government visas expire.

She's rarely at ease. She drives her brother's car with insurance but without a license. She doesn't travel far, though, because she's afraid of the police. She tries not to draw attention to herself.

"I've seen some people who look at you like you might not have papers, but what can you do?" Maria said.

Maria doesn't like flouting U.S. laws.

Twice, she applied for a tourist visa. Twice, the U.S. denied her entry.

"I try to do things the right way," she said. "But if you don't give people a way to do things without breaking the law, what do you expect them to do?"

A Quinnipiac University survey last fall found that 55 percent of Ohioans want the government to give people a chance to live and work legally if they've been in the country illegally for at least two years.

But 38 percent had another message: Go home.



jriepenhoff@dispatch.com

sczekalinski@dispatch.com

http://tinyurl.com/6ajjog

I still don't think there has been a single case filed under this new law. With the judge's injunction against the part that would have had the most effect, it seems like we are having more and more of what this guy did

Julio Reiguero knew he wasn't welcome because he sat in the Tulsa County jail. After living in Columbus for six months, the Mexican citizen returned to Tulsa in December for a construction job.

I do construction in one of the trades most effected by the influx of the illegal labor force. Because of the housing slowdown I had to go out and look for work for the first time in ten years about a month ago. There is still work out there but the price it takes to get the work is lower than the price that I was getting almost twenty years ago. If there was such an exodus out of the state then my talents would be in demand like they were before this invasion of cheap labor.

Lastly, this article is one of the most biased pieces of "journalism" I have read. Their portrayal of people on the same side of ALIPAC is insulting and down right racist.

Someone anonymously called the television show America's Most Wanted and claimed that a notorious Latino criminal lived in a South Side house. The tip led to a raid and deportations. None of the Latinos were on a most-wanted list. Police suspect a neighbor pulled the stunt.

I LOVE IT