‘Alligator Alcatraz' sounds more like ‘Gator Gulag' for migrants
Prison swamp
I'd like to propose a better name for the immigrant detention facility some are calling 'Alligator Alcatraz.'
'Gator Gulag' has a much better ring to it.
Tim Turman,
Cutler Bay
Camp ire
Amazing how one governmental decision — the creation of a migrant detention center in the Everglades, being billed as 'Alligator Alcatraz' — can anger so many different constituencies.
The decision angers environmentalists, as it destroys our precious Everglades; it angers the Miccosukee tribe, as it establishes a prison smack in the middle of their tribal lands; it angers everyone who recognizes the value of hard-working, law-abiding immigrants and abhors the unlawful treatment they are receiving; finally, it angers every taxpayer who recognizes this wastefulness, as it enriches private prison companies and the politicians they fund.
Ana Alejandre Ciereszko,
Miami
Bahamians snubbed?
Re: the June 24 editorial, 'City that immigrants built just turned its back on them.' Perhaps the Miami Herald Editorial Board overlooked that Bahamians were among the first West Indians to immigrate to the mainland U.S. in the late 19th century. Many worked in Florida's agriculture or labored in fishing, sponging and turtling in the Keys.
Bahamian enclaves developed in areas such as Lemon City, Coconut Grove and Cutler. In 1896, foreign-born Blacks comprised 40 percent of Miami's Black population. Bahamians in Florida created their own institutions, most notably Episcopal churches. Black Bahamians, however, faced state-enforced racism, could not vote, were persecuted by epithets in the local press and were not allowed to stay in the hotels that employed them.
In 1921, the Ku Klux Klan staged a large rally in Miami attacking Bahamian immigrants. My grandparents were among these early settlers.
The editorial board's historical snub is suspect in light of statewide and nationwide efforts to rewrite or completely eliminate the presence, historical imprints and contributions of Black Americans.
Rosa Osborne,
Pembroke Pines
No more war
Re: the June 25 op-ed, 'Rubio is America's best hope in the Iran conflict.' Excellent commentary by Mary Anna Mancuso on the need to prevent Iran from developing a nuclear weapon, but at the same time avoiding a never-ending war in the Middle East or regime change.
Marilin Rodon,
Coral Gables
A matter of trust
I recently received two official notices — my motor vehicle registration renewal and my updated voter information card. What should have been routine communications from Miami-Dade County felt off. Neither featured the traditional county logo.
Instead, each was re-branded with a personalized seal prominently displaying the name of the elected official — the tax collector and the supervisor of elections (whose name now arches over the word 'VOTE' in a design that resembles a campaign sticker).
This isn't just a design choice — it's about power optics. When an elected official's name dominates official documents, it shifts public perception, making these offices feel less like trusted institutions and more like self-branded entities. That's especially problematic when the offices in question administer elections and tax collection — two areas where public trust is essential.
By replacing the county seal with individualized branding, these new officials are blurring the lines between public service and political self-promotion and gives the impression they operate outside the bounds of government.
At a time when faith in government is already fragile, this kind of self-serving design undermines trust.
Cris Ascunce,
Miami Shores
A rare politician
I don't live in New York City, never spent much time there and don't usually follow its local elections. However, when I heard about Zoran Mamdani's campaign for mayor, something stood out. He wasn't just another politician with carefully rehearsed talking points.
He was honest — and that's rare.
I didn't support Mamdani because of his Muslim identity. I supported him because he focused on what actually matters: working people trying to afford rent, get to work and live with dignity.
He talked about the root causes of inequality and had the courage to challenge the special interests that dominate American politics.
What struck me most was that he didn't hide who he was — his faith, his background. He didn't campaign on it, either. He spoke to voters as people, not demographics. That kind of leadership is needed well beyond New York.
In South Florida, we're dealing with many of the same issues: unaffordable housing, failing infrastructure and political disconnection.
Mamdani's win offers a glimpse of what's possible when a candidate leads with principles instead of pandering His campaign is a sign not just of change in one city, but of a shift that could ripple across the country.
If we pay attention, we might realize this wasn't just his victory. It could be a turning point for all of us.
Syed Ali Rahman,
Davie
Critical view
Since Zohran Mamdani's landslide victory in the Democratic primary for New York City mayor this week, the Miami Herald has published several pieces by writers who have expressed varying shades of disgust for Mamdani's stance on whether Israel has 'the right to exist as a Jewish State.' To reiterate, Mamdani has said he believes that Israel, like all other nations, has a right to exist as a state with equal rights for all.
That commentators find equal rights for all to be incompatible with the Israeli state, as they see and imagine it, says more about their own internalized approval for supremacist ideology — valuing one people over others — than anything else.
To see elected officials, judges and political commentators parrot this line uncritically, especially in light of our country's own dark past with Jim Crow laws, is truly frightening — not the electoral success of a rising progressive Muslim immigrant who believes in this nation's ideals.
Katherine Shehadeh,
Coral Gables
Highway robbery
On June 17, media outlets across this state reported in detail the contents of Florida's newly passed $115.1 billion state budget. Coverage rightly highlighted numerous elements — from tax cuts and voucher expansions to emergency reserve allocations and job eliminations. No mention, however, of the men and women who patrol Florida's roadways, respond to thousands of traffic crashes, support hurricane deployments and serve as the front line for safety on our state's highways.
At a time when violent crashes are increasing, staffing is at crisis levels and Troopers are being paid monthly on salaries that lag 30 years behind Florida's economic growth, the omission is glaring.
While legislators debated reserves and rent taxes, the 1,700 Troopers sworn to protect the motoring public were again ignored. They received no mention in session wrap-ups, no analysis in budget overviews and certainly, no front-page attention. To claim that Florida's budget is complete when it fails to address the most visible and vulnerable layer of public safety is impossible.
We respectfully urge Florida's press to correct this oversight. Tell the full story, not just the tax breaks and budget games, but the silence that continues to surround those who keep Florida free.
Spencer Ross,
president,
Florida Highway Patrol,
Orlando
Job security
South Florida's Congressional politicians claim to be against President Donald Trump's immigration policies. However, until they vote on the record against him, their claims mean nothing.
These politicos don't dare vote against him; if they did, they would be primaried and lose their cushy jobs.
Sol Yanowitz,
Miami
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Miami Herald
2 hours ago
- Miami Herald
Meet the folks who live near ‘Alligator Alcatraz' and call the Everglades home
Scott and Conny Randolph live on a wild piece of land they call paradise. They're comforted by the hoots of owls and snorts of pig frogs. They look up at night to a sky full of glittering stars. And when they get up in the morning, they look out the window to greet their neighbor, a six-foot-long alligator named Big Momma. Anyone who listens to the Randolphs, who live on the property of the Clyde Butcher Big Cypress Gallery, will get an earful on how beautiful, magical and serene the Big Cypress National Preserve is. But those who listen to Florida Attorney General James Uthmeier, who proposed building Alligator Alcatraz, a migrant detention center smack dab in the middle of sprawling Everglades marsh, may get a different picture. 'You don't need to invest that much in the perimeter. If people get out, there's not much waiting for them other than alligators and pythons. No where to go, no where to hide,' he said in a video posted on X. This otherwise quiet section of the Everglades has drawn national attention and controversy to the Dade-Collier Training and Transition Airport, a landing strip north of Tamiami Trail where Uthmeier and Gov. Ron DeSantis have fast-tracked the construction of what they have dubbed 'Alligator Alcatraz.' For days, trucks have hauled in supplies and tools for the site to be operational, officials say, by July. Folks who live and work in Big Cypress, a federally protected section of the vast Florida Everglades, are pushing back on outsiders' misconceptions of their beloved swamp. It is not totally inhospitable to human life — just ask the Seminoles and Miccosukees. The invasive Burmese pythons, though numerous, are actually kind of hard to find, they say. The folks out here find alligators to be pretty chill — so long as you don't get too close to Big Momma's nest. 'In 14 years, I've never come across a Burmese python on these 13 acres. But I'll tell you what I have come across: bears, bobcats, alligators, wood storks,' Scott Randolph said as he pointed out his nature photography at the gallery. 'It's this beautiful system that, seriously, is such a rarity.' And while Big Cypress is definitely backwoods compared to densely populated downtown Miami, hundreds of people live off this stretch of Tamiami Trail, depending on the time of year. Campers hang out on Loop Road. Staff live on site at Everglades photographer Clyde Butcher's gallery. Airboat tour attractions and gift shops dot the highway. Notably, there are also about 20 Miccosukee villages along the Trail. 'To hear how it's described by people who never grew up here, who who aren't from here, as a wasteland. This abandoned, barren land. 'Nobody is out here,'' said Betty Osceola, a Miccosukee tribal member and activist. 'I'm like, 'What about me?' I'm somebody.' The proposal and quick turn around has outraged residents on several fronts, including immigration, environmental protections and Indigenous rights. Those against the facility, who plan on demonstrating on Saturday, argue the $450 million facility undermines the billions of dollars spent on restoring the Everglades and jeopardizes a fragile ecosystem. DeSantis, eager to support President Donald Trump's mass deportation efforts, says the facility is necessary and environmentally benign. 'It'll have zero impact on the Everglades,' he said on Fox News. Live, laugh, love mosquitoes Still dressed in his mosquito net jacket, John Kalafarski unfurled laminated maps of the Everglades in the parking lot outside acclaimed nature photographer Clyde Butcher's gallery. He likes to show people how vast the swamp was before development. True nature lovers like Kalafarski thrive in the Everglades. He lived on Loop Road in the preserve for 10 years in the '90s. Now, the Naples resident guides tourists on swamp walks and pulls out snail shells from his backpack to show kids. Many years ago, he said, a couple of journalists came by working on a story about why people live out here. 'You won't understand until I take you on a swamp walk,' he told them. When asked about Alligator Alcatraz, he shook his head solemnly. The gallery , which displays and sells 82-year-old Butcher's black-and-white images and offers guided swamp walks, is less than 10 miles away from the soon-to-be detention site. The Randolphs, who've been married for 37 years, have lived in the cottage behind the gallery for the last 14 years. Scott Randolph, a resident artist at the gallery, takes striking color images of his surroundings. Big Momma the alligator is one of his muses, as are curious bobcats and the serene landscape. He pointed to one image he took of the night sky. The Milky Way was clear as day. When he took the photo, all he could hear was the sound of insects. In fact, the Randolphs love the nature so much, they share one hot take few South Floridians can relate to — they don't mind the mosquitoes. 'I'm happy to see mosquitoes! They're healthy mosquitoes, and they benefit so much to nature. It's a small price to pay to live out here,' Scott Randolph said. '[Mosquitoes] let me know the environment is trying to work. If you have little stuff, you're gonna have big stuff.' They learn to cope with the extreme heat as well. In the winter, Conny Randolph said, she doesn't sweat. But in the summer, she needs to change her clothes several times a day. 'It's harsh, but it's totally, utterly, completely worth it,' she said. By working at the gallery and providing swamp tours, staff member Trish Elser said she wants to spread awareness of the Everglades' beauty and why it needs to be protected. She hoped one particular visitor got that message. A contractor for Alligator Alcatraz stopped by the gallery this week, she said. He was struck by the beauty, she said. 'I'm glad we were able to show him love and what we love about the Everglades,' Elser said. Growing up on Miccosukee land Betty Osceola was among the last generation of Miccosukee to live entirely off the land. Growing up in Big Cypress, nearly all the food her family ate came from their environment, she said. As a girl, Osceola and her siblings ran outside into the swamp barefoot. She has fond memories swimming in rivers while one kid kept an eye out for alligators passing by. As the seasons changed, her mother would remind her when panthers and bears were roaming around. The tribal kids were free to play outside all day, she said, so long as they were back home before sundown. 'We were barefoot going out into the swamps that everybody is so afraid of,' Osceola said. 'That was our playground.' Life out there is tranquil, she said, or at least it was before the cacophony of trucks bringing in supplies for the detention site. The sudden influx of people raises safety concerns, Osceola said. But her primary concern is for nature. How are the trees? The ibis? The endangered panthers that live nearby? While state officials portray alligators as built-in security guards, Osceola said her favorite animal is nothing of the sort. 'I was kind of offended on the alligator's behalf with the way they talk about them,' she said. 'I don't think the alligator wants its name attached to the word Alcatraz.' The Miccosukee have always been in the Everglades and found refuge there during the Seminole Wars, said Chairman Talbert Cypress. Tribal ceremonial grounds and villages are 'very close' to the proposed facility, he said. (Osceola told the Herald she knows a family who's home is less than half a mile away.) 'We have a very close knit community. Everybody knows each other,' Cypress said. 'Even the Gladesmen that live out there, they have family history out there and we have family history with them. We've stuck together through many challenges over the hundreds of thousands of years that we've been there.' Gladesmen is a term for non-natives who have lived, hunted and fished in the Glades for decades. Cypress said the Miccosukee Business Council's priority is to protect the Everglades and advocate for the Miccosukee and Seminole community. As buses bring in and out people, supplies and waste to the facility, Cypress said increased traffic on the two-lane Tamiami Trail will be a major issue. 'It's just a huge burden for the state to take on, and the federal government as well. I don't quite think they understand the scope of how much it's going to cost,' Cypress said. 'God forbid anything emergency-wise happens.' Locals have been keeping a close eye on the construction progress, making their presence known as they watch trucks pull in and out. Garrett Stuart, 41, an environmental scientist of Lakota descent, stood outside the facility just three miles away from where he lives with the Miccosukee. He formed a close bond with Osceola, who adopted him as a nephew. Stuart criticized DeSantis for, as he put it, flip-flopping on his stance of protecting the Everglades when he first ran for governor. And he scoffed at the idea that there's nowhere for detainees to go if they escape. They'd be more likely to run into a Miccosukee camp than into an alligator's mouth, he said. 'It's almost kind of comical that the government thinks that, if you put them out here in the Everglades, there's nowhere to hide,' Stuart said. 'The Seminole and the Miccosukee tribes were the only undefeated tribes in the United States. How did they stay undefeated? They used the Everglades to hide and make war in.' Originally from Kansas, Stuart moved to South Florida about 15 years ago to work in coral reef restoration. But, 'my heart kept leading me back to the Everglades,' he said. 'It's always just felt like a home for me.' Life here is slow and peaceful, unlike in the city, he said. He can still see stars and fireflies at night. The heat doesn't bother him, and the mosquitoes don't bite him. Stuart has been coming to the facility each day, not to protest but to pray. He sits with his drum, shuts his eyes and prays for the government to change its mind and hopes 'that nature can forgive us.' A bird flying above Stuart squawked and he smiled. 'The osprey is talking to us now,' he said. 'I'm praying for everything.'
Miami Herald
12 hours ago
- Miami Herald
‘Kiss of death': South Florida reacts to end of Haiti's Temporary Protected Status
Nadine Mallebranche was only five years old when her family fled the political upheaval of Francois 'Baby Doc' Duvalier's Haiti in the late 1980s. In the United States, the Mallebranche family found safety. After her parents died when she was 13, Mallebranche bounced from foster home to foster home. Social workers tried to help her with her immigration case, but it fell through the cracks, she said. She remained unsure of her legal status for decades. Everything changed for Mallebranche when Haitians were granted deportation protections and work permits under Temporary Protected Status. For the last 15 years, she has not had to fear being sent back to a country she doesn't remember. She could legally work as a store supervisor. 'It was a lifeline,' she told the Miami Herald. But on Friday, Mallebranche, now 45, learned that the Trump administration is ending TPS for over half-a-million Haitians living in the United States. Come this fall, she could be forced to return to a gang-ridden Caribbean country struggling with record hunger and political instability. 'I'm facing potential deportation to a country that is overrun by criminal gangs,' said Mallebranche. 'The only home that I know is the United States.' In the first six months of 2025, extreme violence in Haiti killed about 2,700 people . Sexual violence and kidnappings are rampant. Almost 1.3 million people are internally displaced and 5.7 million people face acute hunger. READ MORE: Trump ends TPS for Haitians. More than a half-million people now face deportation But a spokesperson for the Department of Homeland Security said on Friday that 'the environmental situation in Haiti has improved enough that it is safe for Haitian citizens to return home' — even as the State Department warns Americans to not travel there at all because of kidnapping, civil unrest, limited healthcare, and extreme gang violence. This week, the agency urged Americans to 'depart as soon as possible.' Litigation challenging the termination of Haiti's TPS is very likely. But the Trump administration's decision to end TPS has sent shock waves through South Florida, the heart of the Haitian diaspora in the United States. Over 300,000 Haitians call the Miami metro area home, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. Nearly 511,000 live in Florida. In South Florida, advocates and community leaders condemned Homeland Security's decision on Friday, calling it a dangerous and wicked policy that threatens the lives of Haitians if they are forced to return there. 'Deporting Haitians back to Haiti is a kiss of death,' said U.S. Rep. Frederica Wilson, the federal lawmaker who represents Miami. 'This news is insanity on steroids, and it is heartbreaking to my community. We cannot send anymore people back to Haiti. This ruling is hateful, inhumane and heartless.' The Florida Immigrant Coalition said in a statement that 'Haiti is not in any shape to sustain human dignity and life, and any suggestion to the contrary is nothing but lies.' 'Forcing Haitians to return to Haiti right now is not just morally indefensible, it is a humanitarian catastrophe,' said Tessa Petit, the Haitian-born director of the coalition. One Haitian TPS holder who asked not to be named condemned the decision and emphasized the contribution of Haitian immigrants to the United States. 'These are the hands that heal you, feed you, teach your children, and serve your communities. Revoking Haitian TPS is not policy, it's humane and economic sabotage. You don't get to call people essential when it benefits you, then disposable when it doesn't,' she said. Others, like the Board of the Haitian American Chamber of Commerce in Florida, shared messages of support to those affected, which includes many Haitian families where status for different members ranges from undocumented to U.S. citizenship. 'Our community's strength has always been rooted in resilience, unity, and the pursuit of opportunity. We will continue to stand together in that spirit,' said the coalition in a statement. Homeland Security said in Friday's announcement of the termination that it 'encouraged' Haitians to self-deport. Some Haitians have previously told the Herald that they would rather risk immigration detention in the United States than return to Haiti. As part of a widespread crackdown on immigration, the Trump administration has ended humanitarian protections for immigrants from countries in turmoil, like Cuba, Nicaragua, Venezuela and Haiti. The previous administration granted an 18-month extension of the protections in January, following a country review, because conditions in Haiti are so dangerous. Current Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem rolled back the year-and-a half-long extension, a decision that is being litigated in federal courts. On Friday, the agency ended Haiti's TPS altogether. The TPS designation expires on Aug. 3, and the termination kicks into effect a month later, on Sept. 2. 'This decision restores integrity in our immigration system and ensures that Temporary Protective Status is actually temporary,' the DHS spokesperson said. Congress created TPS in 1990 as a way to grant deportation protections and work permits to people who are already in the United States and cannot return home to countries navigating war, conflict or natural disasters. The secretary of Homeland Security can designate a country for TPS, and periodically conduct a review to determine whether conditions warrant extensions of current designations or expansions that can include more people under the protections. Large swaths of Haiti, including about 90% of its capital Port-au-Prince, are under the control of criminal gangs that terrorize the population. The country is as dangerous for children as the Gaza Strip, according to a recent UN report. A lack of basic necessities, a government in collapse and a crumbling healthcare system make life extremely difficult for people in the country, which has not held elections since 2016. Mallebranche cannot imagine returning to a country in turmoil, a homeland where she hasn't stepped foot in decades. She hasn't told loved ones yet she might be deported. 'This is infuriating, not only for me, but every other person that this is now happening to. What are we supposed to do?'
Buzz Feed
14 hours ago
- Buzz Feed
SCOTUS Backs Parents In Religious LGBTQ+ Book Case
The U.S. Supreme Court ruled 6-3 on Friday that a group of religious parents can opt their children out of elementary school curriculum that involves books with LGBTQ+ themes. In Mahmoud v. Taylor, a group of parents of a number of religions, including Catholics and Muslims, sued the Montgomery County, Maryland, public school board after the district removed a policy that allowed those with religious objections to pull their children out of class whenever a book with LGBTQ+ characters would be used for teaching. The parents argued the new policy violated their religious freedom to teach their own values to their children. In an opinion written by Justice Samuel Alito, the court ruled that the parents were entitled to a preliminary injunction against the policy. 'The parents are likely to succeed on their claim that the Board's policies unconstitutionally burden their religious exercise,' the majority wrote. 'The Court has long recognized the rights of parents to direct 'the religious upbringing' of their children.' The court also said the lower court's finding that the parents' arguments were 'threadbare' was incorrect. In a fiery dissent, Justice Sonia Sotomayor argued that for poorer school districts, it may be too costly to engage in lawsuits over opt-outs or spend funds tracking student absences. 'Schools may instead censor their curricula, stripping material that risks generating religious objections,' she wrote. 'The Court's ruling, in effect, thus hands a subset of parents the right to veto curricular choices long left to locally elected school boards.' 'In a time of ever-increasing polarization in our country, exemptions that would require schools to allow children to refuse exposure to materials and curriculum about people from various backgrounds is divisive and harmful,' Deborah Jeon, the legal director for the American Civil Liberties Union of Maryland said in April before the court heard oral arguments. The conservative justices didn't see it that way. 'They're not asking you to change what's taught in the classroom,' Justice Brett Kavanaugh said during arguments. 'They're only seeking to be able to walk out … so the parents don't have their children exposed to these things that are contrary to their own beliefs.' The decision is likely to have reverberations throughout the country. The Supreme Court has, in recent years, sided with plaintiffs who allege that antidiscrimination statutes are violations of their religious freedom, including a high school football coach who was fired for praying on the field and a website designer who didn't want to be forced to make wedding websites for same-sex couples. GOP-led states have been fighting to bring Christianity into public school classrooms by introducing bills to require displaying the Ten Commandments in classrooms and pushing Bible-based curricula for students as well. It's also another victory for right-wing culture warriors who, for the past several years, have been leading the movement to remove books from classrooms and reshape what and how schoolchildren are learning. Under the guise of parental rights, Republicans and conservative activists have pushed laws that ban books that deal with LGBTQ+ themes and censor what teachers can say about sexual orientation and gender identity. HuffPost.
