So here we are.
Ryan Garcia world class boxer, Latino pride, Trump voter just woke up mid-embrace to the cold sting of reality: the same administration he supported is now yanking hardworking immigrants out of their homes in LA like they’re bags of trash on eviction day.
He even hugged the man. Literally. There’s a photo of it. Smiles all around.
And yet… here he is, tweeting out something real for once.
“These aren’t just ‘illegals’ or statistics, they’re people…”
No shit, Ryan.
This is what a lot of people on the right (and some on the left too) still don’t get: you can’t cosplay border policy on cable news and then be shocked when that same policy shows up at your cousin’s door in riot gear at 4AM. You don’t get to dehumanize immigrants for votes and then act surprised when those policies have a body count.
Trump made immigration a culture war cudgel — and ICE? ICE became the hammer.
Garcia calls it “pain.” He’s right. But it’s profitable pain. Pain with donor backing. Pain with private prison contracts and political momentum baked in. Pain they’ve been selling to the American public for years — with fear, with lies, and with shiny photo ops just like this one.
“We can have borders without losing our humanity,” he says.
Okay, but what does that look like now — after over a decade of treating the southern border like a war zone and every undocumented person like a ticking time bomb?
What does humanity mean to a government that loses track of children?
What does “compassionate policy” mean in a country where the word “illegal” has been weaponized like a slur?
Look — I’m not dunking on Garcia for waking up. That’s more than a lot of people are willing to do. But I’m tired of watching celebrities and influencers have these revelations after the votes are cast, the hugs are snapped, and the policies are rolling over communities like tanks.
You want to speak up? Good.
Now keep going. Tell the rest of the truth. Name the system. Call out the raids. Expose the deportation quotas. Drag ICE out of the shadows and shine a goddamn light.
Because until then? The border may be drawn in the sand, but the blood is on all our hands.
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