Southeast Asians feel targeted by ICE

Minnesota's Southeast Asians protested the actions of federal agents earlier this year.

 

Bounpone Morisath was only five years old when his family fled the aftermath of the secret war in Laos, eventually finding refuge in America in 1980. For 45 years, Bremerton, Washington has been his home. Everything changed on March 11. 

During what Morisath believed was a routine check-in at the ICE office in Seattle, he was suddenly taken into custody. His detention marks a grim shift in diplomatic reality. 

“Donald Trump has made the entire immigrant community his scapegoat to justify horrifying violence, undermine our rights, and tear families apart. That includes Southeast Asian Americans (SEAAs) who have called our country home for decades and who are now being targeted and forced to return to countries that are unsafe or completely unfamiliar to them,” said Rep. Judy Chu, D-CA.

Morisath is a business owner, a husband to a US citizen, and a father to a 21-year-old daughter. But for the last several weeks, the life he built has been traded for a cell at the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma.

The shadow hanging over Morisath stems from a single afternoon in Alaska 32 years ago. When he was just 18, he was the driver in a vehicle where a friend fired a gun out of a window. While no one was hurt, Morisath pleaded guilty to third-degree assault and mishandling a firearm. 

That 1994 conviction triggered a deportation order in 1995, but because Laos did not have a repatriation agreement with the United States at the time, he was released under an Order of Supervision. He did exactly what the government asked of him for the next three decades, checking in regularly with immigration officials while living a quiet, law-abiding life.

Targeting Southeast Asians

For decades, Laos refused to accept deportees, but that stance began to crumble under intense pressure from the Trump regime, which utilized visa sanctions and a partial travel ban in 2025 to force cooperation. 

By June 2025, the US had implemented these sanctions specifically because Laos was failing to accept back removable nationals. Consequently, Laos began issuing travel documents for the first time in years, turning routine check-ins into traps for Southeast Asian refugees who thought their decades of compliance bought them a measure of safety.

The scale of this enforcement surge is staggering. Between January and October 2025 alone, the administration deported more Southeast Asian Americans in a single fiscal year than any prior administration. 

This included 175 individuals to Laos, 46 to Cambodia, and 676 to Vietnam. Currently, over 15,000 Southeast Asian community members are living under final orders of removal, with at least 4,800 specifically considered nationals of Laos. These numbers represent an invisible crisis for families who have lived in the US since the 1970s and 80s.

Because they sided with the Americans, Southeast Asians from Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam  have had to flee their home countries. They comprise the largest refugee population ever resettled in the United States. In the aftermath of US military interventions in the region, more than 1.2 million refugees were welcomed to the US because they fought alongside the US or were forced to flee genocide, persecution, and violence.

Most resettled into heavily disinvested communities with limited access to resources or support systems while grappling with the lingering trauma of war and displacement. As a result, many Southeast Asian youth made mistakes or were swept into cycles of violence—leading to criminal convictions and incarceration decades ago. Although many have since rebuilt their lives and given back to their communities, many SEAAs continue to face double punishment through deportation for decades-old convictions for which they have already served their time.

These individuals often have US citizen family members, serve as primary caregivers in their families, have no recollection of or meaningful ties to their country of origin, and have deep roots in their local communities in America.

SE Asian Deportation Relief Act

Amidst this crisis, the Southeast Asian Deportation Relief Act of 2026 (SEADRA) has emerged as a critical beacon of hope. 

Reintroduced in early 2026 with renewed urgency, the act aims to provide permanent protection for refugees from Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam who arrived in the U.S. before 2008. If passed, the legislation would essentially bar the deportation of individuals like Morisath, recognizing their unique history as refugees of U.S.-involved conflicts. 

“SEADRA is more than policy; it’s a promise of healing, hope, and a future where Southeast Asian families are no longer torn apart,: said Quyên Đinh, Executive Director of Southeast Asia Resource Action Center. "SEADRA recognizes the full lives that people have built here and refuses to erase them.”

Specifically, the bill would:

• Limit the Department of Homeland Security’s authority to detain or deport Southeast Asian refugees from Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam who arrived in the United States by 2008;
• Permanently authorize employment eligibility for Southeast Asians with a final order of removal with a five-year renewal period;
• End in-person ICE check-ins and establish five-year intervals between virtual check-ins for Southeast Asians on orders of supervision; and
• Create a pathway for Southeast Asian refugees who have already been deported to return to the US and fight their removal orders.

Crucially, SEADRA would also create a pathway for those already deported to return home to their families, effectively nullifying the "double punishment" of being exiled for decades-old crimes for which they have already served their time.

SEADRA is making its way through the legislative process, facing an uphill battle in a divided Congress still in the control by the Republicans. 

While it has gained significant support from human rights groups and the Congressional Asian Pacific American Caucus (CAPAC), it remains in committee as  advocates and Trump push for a floor vote. 

For Morisath and other refugees from Southeast Asia in similar circumstances, the act’s passage would mean an immediate end to the threat of removal and a restoration of his status as a Lawful Permanent Resident, finally aligning his legal standing with the four decades of life he has invested in this country.

Currently, Morisath sits in detention as a noncitizen with a final order of removal, his Lawful Permanent Resident status long since stripped away by his 1990s conviction. His legal representation, attorney Nicolas Olano of Anchorage, Alaska, is now racing against the clock. 

Olano has filed a motion with the US Department of Justice Immigration Board of Appeals to reopen the 32-year-old case, arguing that the firearm charge should not have been classified as a deportable offense. 

As the administration continues to use aggressive tactics to expel refugees, Morisath’s family and advocates are left wondering if 45 years of American life can be erased by a single mistake from his youth.

"The SEADRA bill would end deportation for Southeast Asians as we know it. In this moment when we’re told to turn against one another, we must choose a different path: we belong here and no one is disposable," said Chhaya Chhoum, Co-Executive Director of Southeast Asian Freedom Network. 

"Our communities have organized, resisted and created new worlds when the old ones failed us. This bill is part of that legacy - a call to love and protect one another, especially now.” 

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