Our Online Journal features original pieces written and edited by our Online staff at Columbia. They are not representative of any views held by the Columbia Undergraduate Law Review Editorial Board.
The American dream is nonexistent for an abundance of individuals within the LGBTQ+ community whose rights have been rapidly curtailed. March 28, 2022 marked the beginning of a particularly discriminatory period as a result of Ron Desantis’ signing of the “Parental Rights in Education” Law, now more widely known as the “Don’t Say Gay” law. This law is one among more than a dozen others, including the “Stop the Sexualization of Children Act,” which prohibit federally-funded schools from teaching material related to sexuality. Together, these bills intend to outlaw discussion of sexuality and gender identity in elementary school classrooms and thereby infringe upon the rights of teachers. The passing of “Don’t Say Gay” has evoked an abundance of social controversy and multiple lawsuits that accuse the law’s wording of being incredibly vague which could lead to dangerously broad applications. Ultimately, the aforementioned bills and laws violate the First Amendment by widely censoring teachers and are therefore unconstitutional.
Chile’s ongoing effort to write a new constitution has created an opportunity for the country to create a more democratic, cohesive, and equal society. These core values guided the design behind each section of the proposed Chilean Constitution, from civil rights to government structure. The timing of this new constitution coincided with the decades-long legal movement to restructure power between the federal and regional governments; until then, Chile’s decentralization process had unfolded gradually through patchwork revisions to the current Constitution. [1] If ratified, the recently proposed constitution would have reconfigured the relationship between the federal and regional governments, distributing power locally through newly created political bodies that would have the resources to carry out their constitutional responsibilities. Even though the proposed constitution was rejected by Chileans in the 2022 plebiscite, understanding how its language would have changed power-sharing arrangements throughout the country allows us to visualize innovative legal methods for fostering and protecting local autonomy while still respecting the national political framework.
For over a year, tensions at the Poland-Belarus border have been rising at an unprecedented rate. The resulting humanitarian crisis has inspired discussion about the legal status of refugees, shedding light on Poland’s shameful reaction to the eviction of Middle Eastern refugees by Belarus president Aleksandr Lukashenko in June of 2021. Polish authorities regularly subjected thousands of fugitives camping in the village of Usnarz Gorny without food, sanitation, and heating to water cannons or tear gas, and then, ultimately, pushed them back into Belarus. [1] Such state of affairs is dictated both by the ruling party’s - PIS- historically nationalist and Catholic agenda and by public sentiment. This anti-refugee policy is not only ethically questionable, but also legally untenable. Under several international acts, notably the European Charter of Human Rights (ECHR) and the Geneva Convention, Poland has the obligation to provide Middle Eastern refugees with temporary asylum and respect their right to apply for foreign protection.
Today, there are over 40,000 graves of Native American children around the United States on properties that operated as boarding schools for Indigenous youth. [1] These gravesites reveal a fraction of the impact of the mistreatment at these federally sanctioned schools, and of the number of Indigenous youth harmed emotionally and physically that led to diminished populations and resources, little culturally relevant schooling, and increased mental and physical illnesses in Indigenous communities.
The United States’ troubled history with Native people is an extensive one. Notorious for forcibly and unjustifiably removing Native children from their homes and families, the U.S. government’s conscious effort to strip Native peoples of their community ties was reinforced by legislation set to undercut Indigenous rights. As one historical data point, the Civilization Fund Act, codified into law by President James Monroe in 1819, established church-run “Indian boarding schools” with the aim of forcibly assimilating Native children. [1] For over a century, Native children were forcibly removed from their homes, rehoused with white families, and placed into these “schools”, effectively stripping them of their identities, languages, and beliefs.
Every year, state officials conduct about two million child welfare investigations, subjecting children and their families to home searches, physical examinations, and interviews. [1] While such investigations sometimes reveal instances of abuse or neglect, many families are forced through the intrusive process for seemingly no reason at all; in 2002, only twenty-eight percent of the two million investigations were later substantiated. [2] Most surprisingly, the Fourth Amendment requirements of a particularized warrant and probable cause do not apply to suspected cases of child abuse, despite child welfare investigations bearing strong resemblance to criminal ones. [3] As a result, investigations can occur following a single, anonymous phone call or for reasons as trivial as not having the technology needed for the child to participate in virtual learning during COVID-19. [4]
In 2021, Attorney General Merrick Garland vacated Matter of A-B: a Trump-era decision that denied domestic violence as a viable social group classification for those seeking asylum protection. [1] Albeit a massive step in the right direction, ambiguity surrounding asylum law and whether or not it extends to gender still riddles the immigration system, especially given the rise in Central Americans arriving at the U.S.-Mexico border. [2] For instance, in the case of Gleidy Yessenia Jaco, a Honduran asylum seeker fleeing domestic abuse and repeated death threats, the Fifth Circuit disregarded existing precedent by rejecting her pro se appeal in 2021. [3] Currently, international and domestic law enumerates five grounds on which individuals can plead asylum on account of a “well-founded fear” of persecution: race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group. [4] Given that the grounds are outdated, originate from a male-centric context, and do not directly pertain to those escaping gender-specific persecution, membership in a particular social group remains the most commonly applied avenue for migrants fleeing gender-based violence. However, selective criteria under the Board of Immigration Appeals (BIA) make qualifying under these terms difficult, resulting in inconsistent decisions that rely on partisan biases. To address ongoing confusion and provide a more cohesive framework, the United States should add gender as the sixth ground for asylum under its refugee definition.
The Sixth Amendment guarantees anyone accused of a crime the right to “have the assistance of counsel for his defense.” [1] However, uncertainty over what “assistance of counsel” entails remains, leading to complex court cases across the country. When a defendant faces the court and decides whether they will plead guilty or not guilty to the charges against them, their counsel weighs the consequences of a guilty plea, often categorized into two types: immediate and collateral. Immediate consequences are punishments like fines, detainment, and prison time, and are often the primary basis for a legal counsel’s advice. Yet the collateral consequences of a defendant's guilty plea are often ignored—though they are just as important.
On October 12th, 2022, the Supreme Court heard arguments for Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. v. Goldsmith (“Warhol”). [1]This highly-anticipated case regarding copyright law involves two great artists of the last century, visual artist Andy Warhol and award-winning photographer Lynn Goldsmith. At issue is a dispute over Warhol’s “Prince Series” collection, based on a photograph of the musician Prince Rogers Nelson taken by Goldsmith. [2] Centered on the subject of visual arts and the underlying issue of whether Warhol fairly used Goldsmith’s photograph, this case reflects a crucial opportunity for the Court to clarify copyright protections.
