Overview
Freedom of Information Act requests, particularly for Department of Homeland Security records, have become notoriously slow
A Fading Paper Trail
Local police departments across the United States are playing an increasingly visible role in federal immigration enforcement, even as the paper trail documenting that cooperation remains fragmented, incomplete, or deliberately obscured.
That tension between expanding enforcement and limited transparency was at the center of an April 24 briefing organized by American Community Media (ACoM), aimed at equipping journalists with tools to uncover how Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) works alongside local law enforcement.
The panel brought together legal experts, transparency advocates, data researchers, and journalists who have spent years navigating the gaps between public accountability and government secrecy. Their message was clear: immigration enforcement may be federal in name, but it is overwhelmingly local in practice—and that makes local records one of the most powerful reporting tools available.
“Local police departments and sheriff’s offices are playing a growing role in immigration enforcement,” said Pilar Marrero of ACoM in her opening remarks. “Yet much of this activity remains difficult to track.”
Lack of transparency
A central focus of the discussion was a recent legal victory in California that illustrates both the obstacles and opportunities facing reporters. David Loy, legal director of the First Amendment Coalition, described a lawsuit against the Ventura County Sheriff’s Office over withheld records tied to a massive ICE raid at Glass House Farms. The operation resulted in the death of a farmworker and the arrest of hundreds, while sheriff’s deputies claimed they were present only for crowd control.
When a community organization requested body-camera footage and communications explaining why deputies were at the scene, the county denied access, invoking an exemption for investigatory records. The challenge, Loy said, was pushing back against what he described as law enforcement’s reflexive secrecy.
“The sort of automatic default response of law enforcement agencies to record requests is simply to deny,” Loy told the audience. Ventura County ultimately settled, releasing roughly 10 hours of video and paying attorneys’ fees.
For Loy, the stakes extend far beyond a single case. “Transparency is the oxygen of accountability,” he said. “No more so than in law enforcement.”
Shift focus to local records
Panelists emphasized that journalists do not need to rely solely on federal Freedom of Information Act requests, which have become notoriously slow—particularly for Department of Homeland Security records. Thadeus Greenson, press education specialist at the First Amendment Coalition, urged reporters to shift their focus toward state and local records laws, which often provide faster and more revealing access.
“All communications between local officials and federal counterparts would be public record,” Greenson explained. These include contracts, memoranda of understanding, inspection reports, 911 call logs, and even automated license plate reader access logs—data sources that can quietly reveal patterns of cooperation even where official policies prohibit collaboration.
CBOs tracking ICE activity
Greenson also highlighted the value of community-based “rapid response” groups that document ICE activity in real time. While these volunteer networks can help reporters identify detainees and raids that never appear in public announcements, Greenson cautioned that building trust is essential.
“These organizations are often overworked and sometimes distrustful of media—not without reason,” he said. “It can take building up a rapport.”
Elizabeth Clemons of MuckRock, a nonprofit that helps journalists file and track records requests, walked reporters through the mechanics of writing effective FOIA and public records requests. Her advice was grounded in specificity and persistence: narrow date ranges, clear document descriptions, and polite follow-ups.
“There’s a human on the other end of the process,” Clemons said, noting that staffing shortages have slowed response times nationwide. Still, she encouraged reporters not to back down. “Keep filing FOIA requests and keep pursuing transparency and accountability.”
Uncovering immigration enforcement data
The briefing’s final perspective widened the lens. Austin Kocher, an assistant research professor at Syracuse University and a leading analyst of immigration enforcement data, challenged the notion that programs like 287(g) agreements tell the full story of ICE–police collaboration.
“All immigration enforcement is local,” Kocher said. Arrest location, detention contracts, detainers issued to jails, and regional court structures often matter more than headline-grabbing agreements. While states like Texas and Florida dominate deportation numbers, Kocher cautioned that enforcement looks different in every jurisdiction and must be reported that way.
“If you understand one 287(g) agreement,” he said, “you understand one 287(g) agreement.”
Despite the challenges—delays, denials, and bureaucratic resistance—the panelists ended on a note of resolve. For journalists covering immigration enforcement, persistence is not optional; it is the job.
Taken together, everyone underscored a central truth: the most consequential immigration stories are often hidden in local records offices, police logs, and courthouse files. Digging them out requires patience, legal knowledge, and community trust—but without that work, the public remains in the dark about how immigration enforcement is truly carried out in their name.
“Just never give up,” Loy said in his closing remarks. “Push, push, push.”
