Doral had a choice. The Doral City Council could have stood with the people it claims to serve — immigrant families, children of political refugees, workers, neighbors, and voters. They could have paused just long enough for the judicial system to weigh in on a deeply controversial immigration enforcement policy. They could have waited, as South Miami courageously did, by filing a lawsuit asking a judge to determine whether municipalities can legally be forced to sign a 287(g) agreement with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).
But Doral didn't wait. It folded.
Instead of putting the community first, the council once again chose self-preservation, succumbing to political pressure and state intimidation. They rushed to adopt the 287(g) resolution, which effectively invites federal immigration enforcement into our neighborhoods by training local police officers to act as ICE agents.
Let me be clear: this is not required by law. The 287(g) program is entirely voluntary under federal law. But in Florida, under the weight of SB 168, Governor DeSantis' anti-sanctuary law, cities are being coerced into compliance under the threat of civil and even criminal penalties. And while South Miami and Key Biscayne had the courage to challenge that pressure, Doral, once again, did not.
I am not Venezuelan, but I feel compelled to speak for the thousands of Venezuelan families in this city who may never feel safe enough to speak publicly for themselves. While our cultures and histories may differ, our humanity is shared. We are bound by the universal truth that all people deserve dignity, safety, and the ability to build a life free from fear.
This city is home to the largest Venezuelan population in the United States. Many of them fled oppression, poverty, and violence with nothing but hope and the dream of rebuilding in peace. Yet, with one vote, our council made it clear that staying in the good graces of Governor DeSantis was more important than protecting the very people they swore to represent.
They'll try to convince us that this move was harmless. That it's merely a formality. That local police won't actually enforce ICE's agenda.
But that's misleading at best, dishonest at worst. You cannot sign onto 287(g) and not fulfill its duties. That's not how contracts work. Once signed, local law enforcement becomes responsible for performing federal immigration enforcement tasks. You don't get to opt out of the parts you don't like. Agreeing to 287(g) inherently means choosing to let ICE into our neighborhoods, our traffic stops, and our homes — through the hands of our own police officers.
If Doral Police truly had no intention of acting as immigration agents, then the council should have waited. They should have deferred the vote, pending the outcome of South Miami's legal challenge. They should have at least pretended to value public trust, civic transparency, and community safety.
But they didn't. And this isn't the first time this council has failed its residents.
Some council members have looked me in the eye and told me that they can "do more for the community while in office" than they could outside of it. And yet, I am still waiting on one of them to revisit an issue they promised to address after re-election. The truth is, promises are easy to make. Leadership is what shows up when those promises are tested.
At Wednesday's council meeting, we didn't see leadership. We saw political theater: bickering between female council members over who would speak first while a critical, community-altering resolution was on the table. We saw fear disguised as legal obligation. And we saw a complete absence of the backbone it takes to challenge unjust policies that endanger our people.
Yes, DeSantis' anti-sanctuary law looms large. Yes, he and the state attorney general have threatened consequences. But that is exactly why this moment required courage.
Real leaders don't hide behind "we're just following the law" when the law is designed to instill fear in vulnerable people. Real leaders challenge unjust laws. They question coercive mandates. They protect their constituents, especially when it's politically inconvenient.
South Miami showed us what leadership looks like. Key Biscayne did too.
Doral could have been next. It should have been next.
But instead, the city that proudly waves the banner of diversity and unity chose fear over people. Again.
Our community deserves better. We deserve elected officials who are brave enough to stand alone, if necessary, to protect the people they represent. We deserve more than empty promises and weak votes wrapped in PR language.
We deserve leaders who don't just talk about justice and community, but fight for it.
Because if they won't, I will.
Editor's note: Zohra Khorashi is an attorney, mother, and social media content creator/human rights activist who lives in the City of Doral.
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