After escaping civil war in Sierra Leone and enduring nearly a decade in a refugee camp, Dauda Sesay arrived in the United States with little knowledge of the path to citizenship.
However, the prospect of protection and a profound bond with his new home, built on mutual rights and responsibilities, ultimately compelled him to apply. He understood that by making a commitment to the country, through acts like voting, the country would in turn make a commitment to him.
“When I raised my hand and took the oath of allegiance, I did believe that moment the promise that I belonged,” said Sesay, 44, who settled in Louisiana over 15 years ago and now advocates for refugee integration into American society. For him, naturalization represented a steadfast, reciprocal commitment.
But this deeply held conviction has been profoundly shaken in recent months. As President Donald Trump redefines immigration policy and America’s relationship with its immigrant communities, Sesay and countless other naturalised citizens face growing apprehension.
The aggressive push for drastically increased deportations and efforts to alter who can claim America as home, through measures such as challenging birthright citizenship, are creating a widespread ripple effect of fear.
What was once considered the unshakeable bedrock protection of naturalization now feels perilously like quicksand.
Some are worried that if they leave the country, they will have difficulties when trying to return, fearful because of accounts of naturalized citizens being questioned or detained by U.S. border agents. They wonder: Do they need to lock down their phones to protect their privacy?
Others are hesitant about moving around within the country, after stories like that of a U.S. citizen accused of being here illegally and detained even after his mother produced his birth certificate.
Sesay said he does not travel domestically anymore without his passport, despite having a REAL ID with its federally mandated, stringent identity requirements.
Immigration enforcement roundups, often conducted by masked, unidentifiable federal agents in places including Chicago and New York City, have at times included American citizens in their dragnets. One U.S. citizen who says he was detained by immigration agents twice has filed a federal lawsuit.
Adding to the worries, the Justice Department issued a memo this summer saying it would ramp up efforts to denaturalize immigrants who have committed crimes or are deemed to present a national security risk.
At one point during the summer, Trump threatened the citizenship of Zohran Mamdani, the 34-year-old democratic socialist mayor-elect of New York City, who naturalized as a young adult.
The atmosphere makes some worried to speak about it publicly, for fear of drawing negative attention to themselves. Requests for comment through several community organizations and other connections found no takers willing to go on the record other than Sesay.
In New Mexico, state Sen. Cindy Nava says she is familiar with the fear, having grown up undocumented before getting DACA — Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, the Obama-era program that protected people brought to the U.S. as children from being deported — and gaining citizenship through her marriage. But she hadn’t expected to see so much fear among naturalized citizens.
