Imagine one Maria Torres—a mother of three and an undocumented immigrant from Guatemala. On a quiet morning in Phoenix federal agents knock on her door. She isn’t under investigation. She has never committed a crime. But when her 12-year-old son asks, “Do we have rights?” She’s not sure how to answer.
Technically, she does.
Under the U.S. Constitution, Maria is entitled to due process and equal protection under the law. She can attend public school, report wage theft, and speak freely at a protest. But unlike her citizen neighbors, she cannot vote, hold most government jobs, or legally own a firearm. In the eyes of the law, she is both a “person” and a legal exception.
What the Constitution Offers—At Least on Paper
The U.S. Constitution was not written only for citizens. Many of its most powerful protections—such as the First Amendment’s guarantees of free speech, religion, and assembly—apply to “persons,” not “citizens.” That distinction, while subtle, has been affirmed repeatedly by the Supreme Court.
In Yick Wo v. Hopkins (1886), the Court ruled that equal protection under the Fourteenth Amendment applied to non-citizens. In Plyler v. Doe (1982), undocumented children were granted the right to attend public schools. These decisions support the idea that basic constitutional protections follow human dignity, not immigration status.
A 2021 Congressional Research Service report confirms that most constitutional rights apply to all individuals within the United States, regardless of immigration status.
But the reality is far from consistent.
What the Constitution Withholds or Limits
Not all rights extend across the immigration divide. The Second Amendment—often championed as a cornerstone of American liberty—has been explicitly restricted to citizens and certain legal residents. Federal law (18 U.S. Code §922(g)(5)) prohibits undocumented immigrants, and even some visa holders, from possessing firearms. Courts have largely upheld these restrictions, arguing that the right to bear arms belongs to “the people,” understood to mean lawful members of the political community.
Similarly, the right to vote in federal elections is reserved for U.S. citizens, and jury service is limited to those who hold citizenship. These exclusions raise uncomfortable questions: Are these rights about safety, sovereignty, or exclusion?
In practice, the Constitution becomes a patchwork—generous in some areas, silent in others, and often at the mercy of political winds.
Due Process in Theory—But Not Always in Practice
The Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments guarantee that no person shall be “deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law.” On paper, this promise includes immigrants—regardless of legal status. In theory, it means that undocumented immigrants cannot be deported without a hearing, detained without cause, or denied the chance to defend themselves.
But in immigration courtrooms across the country, due process often feels like a legal fiction. Unlike in criminal court, immigrants facing deportation are not entitled to government-appointed counsel. Many navigate complex legal proceedings alone, often in a second language, against trained federal attorneys. In some cases, children––even infants––have been absurdly processed in this fashion.
According to a 2022 report from the American Immigration Council, only 37% of all immigrants and just 14% of detained immigrants had legal representation during their proceedings.
Even more troubling, people—including asylum seekers and green card holders—can be detained for months or years in immigration jails without a trial or meaningful review. In Jennings v. Rodriguez (2018), the Supreme Court ruled that detained immigrants do not have an automatic right to periodic bond hearings, allowing for prolonged incarceration.
The gap between the Constitution’s promise and its delivery is wide. And for immigrants, it can mean the difference between freedom and permanent separation from their families.
Misconceptions, Rhetoric, and the Fragile Idea of Who “Belongs”
In the American imagination, the Constitution is often treated as a birthright document—sacred, exclusive, and reserved for those born under its flag. This misconception, repeated in political speeches and talk shows alike, fuels the widespread belief that undocumented immigrants have “no rights” at all. That belief is not just wrong—it’s dangerous.
A 2018 Pew Research Center survey found that nearly 40% of Americans mistakenly believed that undocumented immigrants have no legal rights under the Constitution. This mistake is especially pernicious in light of the canard that many immigrants are criminals.
The truth is more nuanced: immigrants, including the undocumented, are entitled to many constitutional protections. Yet public rhetoric rarely acknowledges this. Politicians have described undocumented immigrants as “illegals” or “aliens,” dehumanizing language that frames them as outside the law, not protected by it.
This narrative has political utility. If immigrants are viewed as lawbreakers or invaders, then denying them legal protections seems justified—or even patriotic. But in reality, immigration status does not erase personhood. It does not place someone outside the bounds of due process, freedom of speech, or protection from unlawful search and seizure.
And, in opposition to common assumptions, immigrants—both documented and undocumented—are less likely to commit crimes than native-born citizens. Contrary to the rhetoric, immigrants—especially undocumented ones—are significantly less likely to commit crimes than U.S.-born citizens. According to a 2022 study by the Cato Institute, “Criminal Conviction Rates in Texas,” for example, undocumented immigrants had criminal conviction rates three times lower than native-born Americans.
Yet the perception of immigrants as inherently criminal continues to shape punitive policies and public fear. The narrative has power. When a public official declares that the Constitution “is for Americans,” or when voters cheer policies that deny basic services or legal recourse to non-citizens, it erodes the foundational idea that rights are not gifts from government but guarantees rooted in human dignity.
Policies That Punish Everyone
In some states, undocumented immigrants are denied basic necessities—like a driver’s license or access to health care—not out of fiscal concern, but as a punitive gesture. These measures are often defended as tools to deter illegal immigration. In reality, they endanger both immigrants and citizens alike.
A study by the National Immigration Law Center found that states which allow undocumented immigrants to obtain driver’s licenses have lower rates of uninsured motorists, fewer hit-and-run accidents, and improved traffic safety.
Denying access to preventive health care can turn treatable conditions into public health emergencies. A 2020 report from Health Affairs noted that excluding undocumented immigrants from public health systems weakens the overall effectiveness of epidemic responses and disproportionately harms low-income communities.
Likewise, policies of aggressive immigration enforcement—like workplace raids or so-called “community sweeps”—don’t only ensnare undocumented residents. They create an atmosphere of fear that radiates outward, silencing crime victims, dissuading witnesses, and rupturing trust between communities and local police.
According to a 2013 University of Illinois study, 44% of Latinos surveyed said they were less likely to contact police if they were the victim of a crime for fear of immigration consequences.
When people are afraid to report domestic violence, wage theft, or trafficking because they fear deportation, predators flourish. And when local law enforcement is seen as an extension of immigration authorities, it undermines their ability to solve crimes or protect neighborhoods.
In these moments, the law ceases to be a shield and becomes a sword—one that cuts indiscriminately.
Protecting Immigrant Rights Protects Democracy Itself
The strength of a democracy is measured not by how it treats its most powerful citizens, but by how it treats its most vulnerable residents. When the rights of immigrants are honored and upheld, it reinforces the constitutional protections that safeguard all Americans.
The First Amendment does not shrink when it is extended to an undocumented protester. The right to due process does not weaken when a refugee receives a fair hearing. In fact, the inverse is true: when immigrant rights are respected, it affirms that the Constitution is not a tool of exclusion, but a framework for justice.
History offers proof. Labor protections won by immigrant workers helped set the stage for broader workplace reforms. Landmark education rulings involving immigrant children have strengthened public education access for all. And when courts affirm that the government cannot detain someone indefinitely without a hearing—regardless of nationality—it reasserts a core democratic principle: liberty must not be arbitrary.
Ignoring or undermining the rights of immigrants doesn’t just hurt immigrant communities. It creates legal and cultural precedents that can be turned on others. Surveillance programs, indefinite detention, and limited access to counsel may begin with immigrants—but they rarely end there.
To protect the Constitution is to protect the people under it—all of them.
The Constitution Is Strongest When It Protects the Least Protected
When our hypothetical Maria Torres watches her children walk to school in the morning, she’s not thinking about the nuances of constitutional law. She’s thinking about whether it might be the day someone asks for her papers. Whether a broken taillight could lead to detention. Whether she can trust the police if something goes wrong.
Her life—and the lives of millions like hers—unfolds in a legal twilight, where rights exist on paper but vanish in practice.
But her fears are not hers alone to carry. When due process is denied to her, the rule of law is weakened for all. When her community fears law enforcement, entire neighborhoods become more vulnerable. And when the Constitution is treated as a privilege of citizenship rather than a protection of personhood, its power is diminished.
The U.S. Constitution is not a reward for being born here. It is a blueprint for justice—for a nation that aspires to be both lawful and free. Upholding it for immigrants does not undermine American values. It proves we still believe in them.