In ID we trust: Reflections on self-preservation in an age of deportations

I sipped my coffee, looked into the camera and smiled.

A few moments later, with a gentle whir, the machine popped out a laminated, wallet-sized plastic rectangle. I looked it over and saw myself staring back from under a veneer of shiny holographic globes and geometric patterns. My signature and the seal of the Nez Perce Tribe filled out the rest of the front, with my birthdate, enrollment number and physical stats along the bottom.

A year ago if anyone said I’d make a 16-hour round trip from Oregon to Idaho to be here in Lapwai at my tribe’s headquarters getting an official tribal ID, I’d have given them a quizzical stare. I’ve been on the tribal enrollment rolls since my mom delivered me into this world, and I have my enrollment number memorized. For decades, carrying a physical card has been unnecessary.

How times have changed. Since President Trump started his second administration and embarked on an aggressive push to round up and deport immigrants, the headlines from across Indian Country have warned of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) personnel detaining and questioning First Americans about their citizenship status. The American Indian College Fund says many encounters between Native people and federal officers appear to be instances of racial profiling.

The Diné (Navajo), Mescalero Apache and Paiute tribes — to name but a few — have all mentioned members being confronted by federal officers, and have issued guidance on carrying official documents. A driver’s license, a U.S. passport, a certificate of degree of Indian blood and, yes, those tribal IDs are recommended. Some, including the Torres Martinez Desert Cahuilla Indians, have also issued guidance on how to respond if you’re stopped by immigration agents.

I asked Greene if she’d seen more interest in tribal IDs among our fellow Nez Perce since late January. She said she definitely had.

“Tribal members want to make sure the picture and the rest of their information is current,” she said. “I’ve also noticed parents bringing their children in, making sure they have an ID. Before, they would wait until they were older to bring them in. I’m now seeing much smaller children coming in.”

I thanked her for her time and information, and as I prepared to leave her office, she encouraged me to send my children over as well. With news headlines of fresh detainments and deportations of suspected immigrants fresh in mind, I assured her I would.

I checked in with a number of tribes across the U.S. about demand for photo IDs. Alejandra Robinson, director of public relations for the Eastern Shoshone Tribe in Wyoming, replied that leadership is encouraging members to carry their IDs if they fear being stopped and questioned.

“Oftentimes,” she said, “Shoshone tribal members don’t renew their tribal ID or simply use another ID or none at all. So this was a good time to ensure they were carrying a valid ID.”

The tribe waived the $15 fee for new tribal IDs, allowing the enrollment office to process them for free. Within a couple months, more than 700 cards were issued, significantly more than the usual 10 to 30 cards per month.

In a notice, the Shoshone Business Council addressed tribal members’ concerns, stating their commitment to both protecting the sovereignty of the Eastern Shoshone and addressing challenges with the White House.

“While we don’t agree with many of the newly enacted policies, we will fight for our rights and be prepared to support our tribal members, regardless of where they reside,” the notice reads. “Native Americans were given U.S. citizenship in 1924 and we strongly oppose any arguments against that and the attempt to rob us of our recognition as a sovereign tribal nation.”

The Native American Rights Fund has also created an online FAQ page in response to the stepped up immigration crackdowns. The page covers native rights, and includes the fact that Natives born in the U.S. are U.S. citizens and therefore can’t be legally detained or deported for immigration violations.

After catching up with one of my aunties over breakfast, I began driving back home. My newly minted tribal ID card smiled at me from my vehicle’s dashboard, ready to be presented should I be pulled over by an ICE official.

On one hand, I felt a little silly worrying about being detained and possibly deported to a foreign gulag. Having watched my share of old World War II spy films throughout my life, wasn’t presenting one’s papers some old trope? But recalling all the other unprecedented developments that have occurred in the last six months, nothing felt entirely beyond the realm of possibility.

In any other time, there’d be a lively debate over the purpose of tribal IDs. I’ve heard critics say it’s just another form of colonial bureaucracy, meant to track us in a government system that binds us to set blood quantums and definitions. Defenders have countered it preserves our identities and numbers, while also cutting down on Pretendians.

But today on my long drive back home, the tribal ID was just another safeguard against those who’d question my citizenship in a country that seems more fragmented, angry and polarized than it’s ever been. I set the cruise control to a comfortable speed and tried to lose my worries in the rolling golden landscape of western Idaho.