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At the No Kings march on Saturday, I marched alongside Raiza, the mother of Dylan Contreras, and Lillian Lopez, the sister of Carlos Lopez. Seven million people took part nationwide – but none more courageous than these two women.
If, like me, you were grateful to be part of the march and are inspired by their courage, I’d like to ask you to consider a contribution to Make the Road New York [ [link removed] ] – who brought the habeas petition that freed Carlos, a story you can learn more about in this new video:
Dylan Contreras is a New York high school student who was arrested by ICE [ [link removed] ] back in May. Dylan, who is 20, fled Venezuela last year, and requested asylum at the border. He joined his mom and sisters in the Bronx, was issued a work permit by DHS, started working part-time as a delivery driver to help his mom pay the rent (after they moved out of a City-run homeless shelter). And he enrolled in a Bronx high school, ELLIS Prep, that caters to older newcomers.
He was detained by ICE at what he and his family expected would be a routine check-in, and he has been in detention ever since. Like the vast majority of individuals who have been abducted from immigration court in NYC, he has no criminal record or charges. Nonetheless, this fall, an immigration judge with a 95.8% denial rate on asylum applications denied his application, and ordered him deported. [ [link removed] ] His mom, Raiza, is fighting and praying for him every day, and has become a leader in the fight against the “global nightmare” of immigrant abductions.
Carlos Lopez is a 27-year-old from Paraguay. He was abducted by ICE at 26 Federal Plaza on July 16. I was in the courtroom for his hearing that day, and the hallway for his abduction.
At most of the hearings I’ve attended there, the judge gives the individual some time to find a lawyer or provide more information on their case. But the judge specifically said that Carlos had a strong case, so she scheduled him for a hearing on his asylum application (not until 2029 because the courts are so backed up; in the meantime, he has a work permit, and should be able to stay and work until then). Carlos and his sisters who were with him, Lillian and Porfiria, and I all worked out of the courtroom feeling hopeful.
Unfortunately, the masked ICE agents in the hallway don’t care about things like a judge’s order, so they ripped Carlos from the arms of his sisters [ [link removed] ] in the hallway outside the courtroom – without presenting a warrant, identifying themselves, or giving a reason for the arrest. Carlos was held in the illegal detention center on the 10th floor at 26 Federal Plaza for three days, then shipped off to Houston. They pressured him to sign an affidavit agreeing to his deportation – threatening that if he did not, they would hold him in detention until his hearing in 2029.
Thankfully, we were able to connect Lillian and Porfiria to Make the Road New York. They brought a habeas motion in federal court – and miraculously, Carlos was released two weeks later.
Last Thursday night, at the Make the Road New York gala, I was reunited with Carlos, Lillian, and Porfiria. If you want to know whether I cried, you don’t really need to ask.
And that’s why I’m writing again today – even though I did last week – to plead with you to consider giving to Make the Road [ [link removed] ]. They haven’t previously needed lawyers for habeas motions, but now those motions can reunite families. I can’t come up with any better use.
As moved as I was to see Carlos, Lillian, and Porfiria at the Make the Road gala, I was even more inspired to run into Lillian at the No Kings march on Saturday. She’s become an activist with Make the Road.
I had met Dylan’s mom Raiza for the first time earlier that morning — she has been working with the New York Immigration Coalition [ [link removed] ] (also well worth a contribution, as are New York Legal Assistance Group [ [link removed] ], The Door [ [link removed] ], ROCC NYC [ [link removed] ], and Immigrant ARC [ [link removed] ]).
So I ran through the crowd with Lillian to the front of the march, and introduced her to Raiza. They walked together holding up a beautiful and heartbreaking drawing of Dylan.
Under dictatorships in the 1970s in Argentina and Chile, thousands of young men were detained by the authoritarian regimes and disappeared. Their Mothers of the Disappeared became leaders of the movements that eventually toppled those regimes.
We’ve long thought something like that couldn’t happen here. And we aren’t to that point yet – most of those young men were killed. But still, this much does seem true:
Raiza and Lillian are the new mothers and sisters of the disappeared.
May their courage inspire us to more resolute action, to reunite families, and to restore the rule of law — before we go any further down this authoritarian road.

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