In my past, I’ve lived where I had to carry identity documents every day. Are we approaching this point in the United States, where DHS Secretary Kristi Noem is intimating as much?
Noem’s Words and What They Signal
Secretary Kristi Noem’s remarks from her January 15 press briefing carry the same chilling weight. When asked about ICE agents demanding proof of citizenship from U.S. citizens who happen to be near enforcement targets, she said agents may ask individuals “surrounding that criminal… to validate their identity.” She described it as part of “targeted enforcement” and “what we’ve always done,” but offered no clear definition of what “validation” entails. In the video of the exchange, Noem remains calm and resolute, framing the practice as routine, yet the message is unmistakable: Americans could be stopped and required to prove citizenship simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, even without individualized suspicion.
For citizens, the message is clear: one should be ready to produce documents such as a birth certificate, passport, or Global Entry card to avoid complications. No federal law requires U.S. citizens to carry proof of citizenship at all times, unlike certain immigrants who must carry registration documents under the Immigration and Nationality Act. Yet Secretary Noem’s statement strongly implies that citizens should anticipate and prepare for such demands in public spaces, turning ordinary moments into potential checkpoints.
As someone who lived in the Soviet Union from 1981 to 1986, I know exactly what it feels like when daily life becomes conditional on always having the right papers. Every citizen over sixteen had to carry an internal passport, a small booklet-style identification document that included the mandatory propiska stamp, the official registration that tied one to a specific address. In everyday conversation, people often called this internal passport the “kartoshka,” a wry nickname comparing the ubiquitous ID to the humble potato, Russia’s staple crop.
That document was not optional. It had to be shown during routine police stops, when boarding trains between cities, checking into hotels, applying for jobs, or renting housing. A missing stamp or forgotten passport for Soviet citizens could mean fines, detention, or being treated as suspicious. The constant worry made simple errands feel like risks, and the state decided where you could live, work, and associate, especially if you belonged to an ethnic minority or held dissenting views.
Militarization and Intimidation by ICE/DHS
This rhetoric arrives alongside the increasingly visible militarization of ICE operations. Agents appear in tactical gear, often masked and heavily armed, creating an atmosphere of intimidation that extends far beyond immigration enforcement. Anonymity for these militarized individuals is the norm, as they frequently operate without visible name tags or badge identification. A recent White House post captures this starkly, showing rows of ICE personnel in black uniforms, helmets, and body armor, captioned “STAND WITH ICE.”
The image resembles a paramilitary unit more than civil servants, prompting widespread concern that such displays are intended to discourage citizens from watching, filming, or protesting these actions. Reports from affected communities describe agents deploying flash-bangs, tear gas, and physical force against bystanders, including children, further eroding public confidence and heightening fears of unchecked power.
Administration Policy Choices and the Tenth Amendment
Some argue that ICE would not need to employ such draconian tactics if local law enforcement and elected officials cooperated more fully, and that sanctuary cities and states are the primary reason for these aggressive federal operations. While sanctuary policies do exist and do limit cooperation, this argument functions largely as whataboutism when used to deflect criticism of federal methods.
The Tenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution makes clear that any power not specifically given to the federal government belongs to the states or to the people. In plain terms, immigration enforcement is a federal responsibility, but states and local governments are not required to help ICE carry out civil immigration actions, such as detaining people solely for deportation purposes. Cooperation with ICE is voluntary. Sanctuary jurisdictions choose to limit or prohibit local police from honoring ICE detainers, sharing release dates, or joining operations unless a criminal warrant is involved. They do this out of concerns for civil liberties, racial profiling, community trust in law enforcement, and the risk of deporting non-criminal residents who are otherwise integrated into society.
This gap between what the law promises and what happens in practice is starkly illustrated by the crosswalk analogy: even if one is entirely correct, crosses in the crosswalk with the light, and is hit and killed, the pedestrian is still the one who remains dead. The law requires vehicles to yield to pedestrians in the crosswalk; drivers who fail to do so face tickets, fines, or charges. Yet if a driver ignores the rule, the pedestrian may still die if struck by the car, regardless of the law’s correctness. If the law is ignored, one is left chasing justice from a grave.
ICE, however, has always had the legal authority to conduct administrative arrests and removals on its own, without local help. The decision to conduct large-scale, high-visibility, public operations, often in tactical gear, with demands for citizen ID validation, and sometimes with lethal force, is a deliberate policy choice of the current administration, not an inevitable result of non-cooperation. Historical enforcement under previous administrations, even in sanctuary areas, did not feature the same degree of militarized presence or public confrontation. The current surge, averaging more than one thousand arrests per day with 73.6 percent of detainees having no criminal record, reflects federal priorities, not solely local obstruction.
Blaming sanctuary policies does not justify federal overreach, the normalization of “validate your identity” rhetoric, or incidents like the Renee Good shooting. The real issue is whether these methods are proportionate, lawful, and consistent with constitutional protections for all residents, citizens or not.
The Troubling Direction in the United States
We are not yet at historical extremes, but the trajectory is concerning. A 2025 Supreme Court ruling (6-3) permitted ICE to consider race, accent, or occupation as factors in initiating stops, overturning lower-court protections against profiling. Justice Sotomayor’s dissent described the decision as “normalizing racial profiling.”
Accounts from Minnesota, Illinois, California, Texas, New York, Arizona, Louisiana, Oregon, and Washington show citizens, frequently individuals of color, being confronted and required to prove their status. Reports describe ICE agents stopping bystanders, protesters, residents on public streets, workers at job sites, and people near operations, demanding proof of citizenship without clear reasonable suspicion. These encounters have led to detention, physical force (tackling, pepper spray, tasers), and wrongful holds even after verbal claims of citizenship or presentation of IDs. ACLU lawsuits and state challenges highlight Fourth Amendment violations and calls for oversight.
The fatal shooting of Renee Good on January 7 exemplifies the dangers: an ICE agent fired three rounds into her vehicle for failing to move promptly during a raid, despite no clear threat. The federal probe excluded state involvement, and Deputy Attorney General Blanche dismissed civil rights concerns within days. This incident reveals a profound disconnect between legal safeguards and on-the-ground realities, where protections exist on paper but fail to prevent immediate harm.
I carry my driver’s license for driving, not for walking my dog or existing in my own country. Secretary Noem’s suggestion that we should be ready to prove our identity changes everything. History did not leap to gulags or camps overnight; it began with “papers, please” normalized under the guise of security. Are we there yet? Not fully, but her words make it feel perilously close.
The real issue remains the gap between legal safeguards and on-the-ground reality. The pedestrian may have the right of way, but if the car doesn’t stop, the pedestrian is still dead. Blaming the city for not installing more stop signs doesn’t change that.
Resistance to these tactics, through legal challenges, public pressure, and civic engagement, is the path to narrowing that gap. We must act before the gap becomes fatal for more than just the vulnerable.
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