This week at the ACLU of Maine: Updates on our lawsuit against illegal immigration detention in Maine, covering the Supreme Court term with the community in Machias, and preparing for Pride throughout Maine!

Hearing Scheduled for Habeas Case Challenging Illegal Immigration Detention of Maine Man

A lot has happened since we filed a habeas petition last week on behalf of a Maine man being held indefinitely by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Shortly after filing, the government transferred our client, Eyidi Ambila, from Cumberland County Jail (CCJ) in Portland to a jail in Burlington, Massachusetts, and slated him for "imminent removal" to the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Eyidi is essentially stateless; although born in the DRC, the country has no record of him and has refused to issue him travel documents in the past.

That same day, a federal judge in Maine issued an emergency ruling that prevented the federal government from sending Mr. Ambila out of the country while the case proceeds. This is not the final ruling on the matter. Mr. Ambila has been transferred back to CCJ while we wait for a judge to rule on the substantive legal arguments in our case – but he could be moved again at any time. The government must submit a response to our lawsuit by May 30. A hearing is tentatively scheduled for June 6. In the meantime, Mr. Ambila is continuing to be held indefinitely by ICE.

Read our press release about the case here. Read more about due process and habeas corpus here.

ACLU of Maine Travels to Machias to Talk Supreme Court Decisions

On Thursday, part of our legal team traveled to Machias to meet with community members at the Porter Memorial Library. Our legal director, Carol Garvan, presented on the Supreme Court's 2025 term, the decisions that have already been issued this term, and the major issues that the court has yet to decide.

The event was well-attended and the discussion was rich and spirited! We had an amazing time and cannot wait to continue meeting with community members at similar events around the state. Keep an eye on our events page and subscribe to receive email updates from the ACLU of Maine to be notified about events near you! 

Maine Fungi Fest and the Failed War on Drugs

Our policy director, Michael Kebede, joined a panel discussion on Saturday morning about the cost of America's failed War on Drugs. He the need for a public health response to the deadly overdose epidemic instead of the continued policies of punishment and incarceration.

Too many who want treatment for substance use disorder cannot get the help they need. Mainers in all parts of the state need paths to seek support and thrive on their own terms. Criminalizing a health condition creates barriers to recovery, weakens communities, and harms the economy.

Celebrate Pride with Us!

We are participating in three Pride events around Maine in June. We'll be tabling at Pride festivals in Hallowell (6/7) and Bangor (6/28), and marching in the parade at Portland Pride on June 21.

All three of these events are on our events page with more details. In the coming days, we'll post a sign-up form for people who wish to march with us in the Portland parade. Keep an eye on the Portland Pride event page and on an email we're sending out to subscribers next week with more details. 

We hope to see you there! 

Relevant Reads: 

• Portland Press Herald: Judge halts deportation of Maine resident who filed complaint over wrongful detention
• WGME: Advocates worry for Maine's international students amid Harvard's fight with White House
• Bangor Daily News: Penobscot County Jail inmates without lawyers could be released next month

*Name has been changed to protect identities

Just days after Donald Trump’s first inauguration, Sarah* and Matt* rushed to City Hall to get married, not because of romance or tradition, but because they were terrified. A recently-signed executive order that came to be known as the “Muslim Ban” signaled to them that the administration would wage war on immigrants. In fact, that war had already begun.

“I never thought about marriage as a necessity,” Sarah explains. “But once Trump was elected, my knee-jerk reaction was to protect [Matt.] I thought marriage might give me some power. At least I could ask where he was if he got detained.”

Sarah, a U.S. citizen, and Matt, who is undocumented, met in the early 2000s. Their friendship grew over shared experiences and conversations, especially during a stretch when Sarah left the country to visit relatives and realized that, before coming to America, Matt had lived in a similar area as her relatives. Their connection, forged long before Matt’s immigration status became a threat, turned into a committed partnership.

After Trump took office, the stakes changed.

Being married to a U.S. citizen does not protect an undocumented person from being deported or detained. Even attempting to pursue legal status involves navigating a punishing and expensive bureaucracy.

“You have to qualify for a [hardship] waiver and then you have to leave the country for an interview. [Nothing is] guaranteed. It’s all a gamble—and a very costly one,” Sarah says. “We didn’t realize how high the bar was, or how many roadblocks were ahead.”

Matt has lived in the U.S. for more than 20 years. He pays taxes with an IRS-issued Taxpayer Identification Number (TIN). “Since day one,” he says, “I’ve done what’s right. But none of that matters. With Trump [there’s now a] target on my back. It’s no longer about whether I’m ‘good’—it’s about when [the immigration agents] come for me.”

Reality for Sarah and Matt is a constant, grinding anxiety. The threat isn’t just deportation, but unlawful detention. “Our worst fear is being separated,” Sarah says. “The detention system is designed to exploit people. Bodies are now a commodity.”

After they were married, Sarah and Matt applied for what’s known as a hardship waiver, which allows an individual who is otherwise inadmissible to the U.S. to pursue legal citizenship if they can prove that their removal would cause extreme hardship to a U.S. citizen family member. To qualify, they were forced to submit extensive documentation, go through biometric screenings and provide Sarah’s medical records. Giving the U.S. government this much information on them without the guarantee their waiver may be granted has only deepened their vulnerability.

“You give them everything—bank accounts, personal history—and in the end, all it does is make you easier to find if they decide to take you,” Sarah says.

Their plans—going back to school, building a future—are suspended. Every ounce of energy goes into staying safe, navigating bureaucracy, and advocating for others in similar situations.

“There’s no plan,” Matt says. “We just take it day by day. If I leave the house, I wonder if I’ll come back.”

Even basic employment is now difficult. Without a work permit, Matt can’t get a stable job, even though he’s worked multiple jobs for years to support his family.

“People don’t understand,” Sarah says. “There is no visa for a dishwasher. There’s no path for the people doing the essential work that keeps this country running.”

Sarah tried to secure “parole in place” status for Matt—a policy that allowed undocumented spouses of citizens to apply for work permits without risk of raids. It was swiftly shut down after political opposition.

“It makes me resentful when people claim immigrants are here to steal jobs,” Matt says. “I didn’t come here to take anything. I came here because it was my last choice. Either I migrate somewhere or I end up dead or jailed in my home country.”

Sarah adds that, in her experience not just with Matt, but with others in their community, it’s become clear that the “system is designed to exploit. You’re good enough to pay taxes and into social security, but not good enough to be protected or have rights. That’s the trap.”

Sarah and Matt’s story is a reminder that the immigration system in the U.S. is more punitive than probative. Matt has consistently attempted to find legal paths to citizenship and has been consistently denied. Sarah has consistently advocated for her partner but, in a political climate where immigration is a wedge issue, she fears that scapegoating, racism and discrimination now defines U.S. policy.

“All we want now is peace,” Sarah says. “We just don’t want to be terrorized by our government. They’re stealing our time, our quality of life. It’s hideous."