By Doug Brown, ACLU Communications Associate

UPDATE: In response to our lawsuit, a federal court on July 23, 2020, issued a temporary restraining order blocking federal agents in Portland, Oregon, from attacking or arresting journalists and legal observers.

I’ve been documenting violent and militarized police responses to protests in Portland for more than four years, but nothing prepared me for the unrestrained brutality I’ve witnessed and experienced in recent days. 

Night after night, since the police killing of George Floyd, people have been taking to the streets to demand an end to racist policing and a new vision of public safety for our community, one that protects the safety of our Black community members. Police in Portland, who have their own history of killings, have been meeting those demands with violent attempts to silence the protests.

(Doug Brown/ACLU of Oregon)

Repeatedly, police have indiscriminately fired tear gas and other munitions into peaceful crowds and have hit journalists and legal observers with batons and flash-bang grenades. This response has been escalating tensions in the community.

(Doug Brown/ACLU of Oregon)

A Black-led community organization called Don’t Shoot Portland, in partnership with the Oregon Justice Resource Center and other civil rights advocates first sued and successfully blocked local police from using tear gas. The ACLU of Oregon filed a lawsuit that prohibited police in Portland from dispersing, arresting, threatening to arrest, or directing physical force against journalists or legal observers. Several other lawsuits followed.

While some federal officers had already been in the streets, we now have additional militarized special ops officers occupying the streets of downtown Portland, bent on inflicting pain and terror on people who believe Black Lives Matter. 

Federal agents, including those from Trump’s Departments of Homeland Security and Justice, are terrorizing the community, threatening lives, and relentlessly attacking protesters demonstrating against police brutality.

(Doug Brown/ACLU of Oregon)

Militarized federal agents have flouted court orders protecting the rights of protesters from local law enforcement attacks, used sharpshooters to maim people, and deployed military tools and tactics — including sonic weapons and tear gas. Black Lives Matter protesters in Portland have been shot in the head with kinetic impact munitions, swept away in unmarked cars, and repeatedly tear gassed by federal agents. These government-issued weapons are funded with our tax dollars.

(Doug Brown/ACLU of Oregon)

Even more, federal agencies appear to be doubling down on these harsh tactics, saying they will not leave the streets of Portland and will take their disturbing practices nationwide. DHS, and its sub-agencies Immigration and Customs Enforcement and Customs and Border Protection, already have a well-known history of abusing human rights and a documented disregard for human life. Now, they are using federal taxpayer dollars to militarize their agencies and ignore the bounds on their power.

This has to stop. We cannot sit idly by and accept this as the new normal — in Portland or anywhere else in this country. And we must not let federal or local law enforcement suppress or control what people know about their violent tactics by attacking journalists and legal observers. Public transparency is a baseline requirement for democracy and accountability.

Remember: Without people filming the police, the officers who murdered George Floyd would never have had to answer for his death.

That is why the ACLU of Oregon took our local police department to court, and secured a court order blocking its unconstitutional attacks on journalists and legal observers. And that’s why we’re taking the federal agents to court, too. We will not rest until law enforcement agencies — at all levels of government — are held accountable for their brutal, inhumane, and unconstitutional attacks on the people of Portland. 

This is a fight to save our democracy — here in Portland and nationwide. And we’re just getting started. We will not let up until these federal agents leave our city, and these unconstitutional attacks on the right to protest against police brutality end.

By Jim Dickson, President of the Aid Association of the Blind of the District of Columbia

The first time I voted was in 1968. As a blind man, I needed the assistance of a poll worker to cast my ballot. I’ll never forget the moment the poll worker looked at my ballot and said loudly, for everybody to hear, “You want to vote for who?”
 
The poll worker’s comment left me shocked, embarrassed, and wondering whether she marked the ballot the way I wanted. Years later, I would ask my wife to mark my ballot. She would joke with me, “I know you love me, but now I know you really trust me.” I knew my wife would mark my ballot the right way.
 
I’m lucky to have the help of someone I trust, but I shouldn’t need to rely on somebody else to exercise my constitutional right to vote. People with disabilities have the same legal right to a private, independent vote as anybody else. By forcing people with disabilities to compromise these rights, election officials are disenfranchising us and sending the message that our votes don’t matter — and breaking the law.
 
In the 50 years since I cast my first vote, there has been some progress in increasing accessibility for people with disabilities, due to reforms included in the Americans with Disabilities Act and the Help America Vote Act, which aim to ensure accessibility. But our voting system will never be truly accessible until people with disabilities can vote without the assistance of another person, and without compromising their right to privacy. Unfortunately, that’s still not the case for the 35 million-plus eligible voters with disabilities, who face barriers that vary from state to state.
 
Here’s how I vote today as a Washington, D.C. resident: I request my ballot online and mark it electronically, using my screen reader. Then I must print the ballot, stamp it, and put it in the mail. The last part is feasible for me, but it may not be feasible for someone with paralysis or another disability that impedes mobility, or for someone without the financial means for a printer or computer. Due to hurdles like these, many people have to rely on a family member, poll worker, or even a stranger to cast their vote.

Expanding access to vote by mail has been a major step toward accessibility because it allows people with disabilities to avoid the challenges of getting to the polls, waiting in line, and facing physical barriers at a polling place. It should also be an option for all voters, especially due to the dangers posed by in-person voting during the COVID-19 pandemic. But for true accessibility, people with disabilities who vote by mail must be able to mark, verify, and cast their ballots privately and independently.
 
We should also have the choice to vote in person. In fact, voting in person can be the more accessible option for some voters, such as those with print disabilities. But it’s still far from being truly accessible. Too many times, I’ve encountered poll workers that don’t know how to operate accessible machines, even when they are available. This makes the process of voting take much longer than necessary. I don’t want to have to hold up a whole line of voters just because the poll worker isn’t properly trained on how to use a machine. I want to vote efficiently, and in secret.
 
Voting is one of our oldest, foundational rights, but voting laws are constantly changing. In some cases, it’s for the better. For example, a dozen states have expanded access to vote by mail for some elections this year. But there’s still more work to be done to make sure the right to vote applies to everyone, including people with disabilities.

By Amreeta Mathai, ACLU Staff Attorney & Dylan Hayre, ACLU Justice Division Campaign Strategist & Twyla Carter, ACLU Senior Staff Attorney

For Black and Brown people, individuals with disabilities, and the LGBTQ community, any contact with the criminal legal system can be a life sentence of punishment. It is not just the precious time taken away from families and communities and turned over to a maze of arrests, convictions, or incarceration. That lifetime of punishment also includes the 48,000 systemic consequences triggered by those mechanisms, each of which creates nearly insurmountable barriers to housing, education, healthcare, family support, or other basic human needs.  Each year, approximately 5 million people are arrested in the United States, and between 70-100 million people have a criminal record. All of these people are routinely blocked from accessing stable housing, medical benefits, employment, financial support, food assistance, and even getting a driver’s license. And that was true before this country was overwhelmed by a global pandemic and the ensuing economic catastrophe.
 
The COVID-19 crisis has made people with criminal system contact more vulnerable by exacerbating these problems. The restrictions that already make reintegration to the community following incarceration difficult under regular circumstances create an impenetrable barrier to successful reintegration during a pandemic — a crisis that has created mass unemployment, a looming housing crisis, and stretched health care systems thin.
 
Despite what many have said, this pandemic and the generational harm it has exposed are not equal opportunity disasters. Because people of color, people with disabilities, and LGBTQ individuals are disproportionately targeted by the criminal legal system, they are also disproportionately and devastatingly impacted by underlying community frailty and systemic consequences. The longstanding exclusion of Black and Brown communities from quality and affordable health care, education, employment, and housing has been laid bare and worsened by the devastation that COVID-19 has unleashed on these communities. It is imperative to take immediate action to support people who have had criminal legal system contact, particularly those who are exiting detention facilities amidst the COVID-19 crisis with limited access to supportive services.
 
Consider the experience of a person leaving a jail or prison facility, or even a police station after their mug shot is shown to the public by the local media. Perhaps their health has worsened since they went to jail. They may have had a physically or mentally traumatic experience while in detention. This person, away from their family, the larger community, society, and certainly the job market, has had to learn to survive in a cage. Upon release, they may be given a few dollars and are forced to navigate a world that may look very different from what they remember.
 
In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic and with the potential of a second surge of the virus in the fall, people leaving detention facilities are more vulnerable than ever. Given that most people exiting the criminal legal system have not had income for months or even years and are without a job, they must be able to access affordable and safe housing, food, mental, emotional and physical health care, and employment. Importantly, they will need a mentor or peer-to-peer support person who can help them successfully transition back into the community.
 
People leaving the criminal legal system also have to learn how to survive despite the thousands of restrictive laws, regulations, and other limitations applied to them. As a start, to address the harmful effects of this longstanding exclusion, state and local governments should offer people immediate access to transitional housing, health care, financial and food benefits, and other resources. This should include lifting restrictions on access to services based on an arrest, an open criminal case, or a criminal record. Additionally, every detention facility should collaborate with transitional services organizations, housing providers, and reentry organizations well in advance of a person’s expected release date. Funding should be directed to those community-based organizations specializing in reentry so that they can expand their efforts.
 
None of this is impossible. The lack of structural support that currently exists is the consequence of decades of deliberate decisions by policymakers and system actors, and society’s unwillingness to hold them accountable. It can be undone, and it must be. The criminal legal system exploits and exacerbates the gaps created in communities by generational divestment in local services and supports. In the long term, building or renewing our focus on filling those gaps is an absolute necessity if we are going to undo the harm the system has caused. In the immediate term, taking direct action to support people returning to the community through peer-to peer services, stable transitional housing, access to medical care, financial benefits, and food assistance is imperative. There are no perfect or quick solutions to these systemic challenges, but collective progress cannot wait.