• Skip to main content
  • Skip to footer

Immigration Law of Montana

Christopher J. Flann, Attorney

406-373-9828
  • Make an Appointment
  • Client Log In
  • Home

Immigration Law of Montana

  • About
    • How to Read Immigration Lawyer Reviews
    • Christopher Flann, Attorney
    • Collette Layton, Legal Assistant
    • Rockwell “Rock” Hinkle, Legal Assistant
    • ILM Scholarships
    • Reviews and Testimonials
    • Gabriela Veroes Legal Assistant
    • Maryangel Aguilera Legal Assistant
    • Fidel Villegas, Legal Assistant
    • Gabriel Chávez, Legal Assistant
    • Erwin Noguera, Legal Assistant
  • US Citizenship
    • Form N-648 Medical Disability Exception
    • Age-Based English Waivers
    • N-600 vs Passport for Citizenship Proof
    • INA 320 — Automatic Citizenship
    • Stepchild Adoption and Citizenship
    • Citizenship through Adoption
    • Citizenship through Naturalization
    • The 3-Year Rule for Spouses
    • Citizenship through Military
    • Derivative US Citizenship
    • N-600K — Citizenship Through a Grandparent
    • INA 301 & 309 — Citizenship at Birth Abroad
  • Green Cards
    • I-130 Separate Petitions for LPRs
    • Income Requirements with Stepchildren
    • AOS with 10-Year Bar (212(d)(3))
    • I-751 Waiver After Divorce
    • Refugee Travel Document Expired
    • Protecting Asylum / SIJS Benefits
    • Asylee Adjustment: INA 209 vs 245
    • NVC Document Roadblocks
    • 221(g) Refusal Explained
    • F-2B Election (Parent Naturalizes)
    • VAWA for Cuban Adjustment Act Derivatives
    • Lying on Form I-485
    • Adjustment of Status: Getting Your Green Card Without Leaving the United States
    • Asylee Green Card
    • Conditional Green Card Renewal
    • Employment Based Green Card
    • I-140 Ability to Pay
    • Consular Processing
    • Family Based Green Card
    • Green Card for Religious Worker
    • Green Card through Marriage
    • Green Card through Refugee or Asylee Status
    • Parole in Place for Military Families:How It Works, Who Qualifies, and What It Actually Does
    • Green Card Renewal: Complete I-90 Guide | Immigration Law of Montana
    • Humanitarian Green Card
    • Refugee Green Card
    • Sheepherder Green Card
    • Marrying an Illegal Immigrant
    • For American Indians Born in Canada
    • Special Immigrant Visa
    • When Your LPR Spouse Dies
    • When Your USC Spouse Dies
    • Derivative Beneficiaries When Petitioners Die
  • Structuring Immigration Information on a Website
    • Lying on Immigration Forms
    • PERM: Education + Experience
    • The EB-4 Visa Problem
    • Rights of Filipino Teachers and Workers
    • Canadian Immigration Pathways
    • Immigration for Employers
    • EB-5 Investor Visa Guide | Immigration Law of Montana
    • Immigration for Farmers and Ranchers
    • Immigration for Religious Organizations
    • Farm Worker Green Cards
  • US Visas
    • J-1 Exchange Visitor Visa
      • J-1 Intern & Trainee Year
      • J-1 Summer Work Travel
      • J-1 Au Pair Program
      • J-1 Two-Year Home-Residency Rule
      • J-1 Waivers
      • J-1 Advisory Opinion
      • After Your J-1 Year
      • J-1 or F-1 for Married Students
    • B-1 for Religious Work
    • Performer Visa Requirements
    • Options After Parole Termination
    • Asylum: Complete Application Guide
    • Asylum for Visa Waiver Program Entrants
    • F-1 & OPT
      • STEM OPT Extension Guide
      • OPT Guide for F-1 Students
      • B-1/B-2 to F-1 Change of Status
    • E-Series Visas
      • E-3 Job Ended: Your Options
      • E-2 Business Changes
      • E-2 Visa for Canadians
      • E-1 Visa for Treaty Traders
      • E-2 Visa for Treaty Investors
        • The E-2 Active-Investment Standard
      • E-3 Visa for Australian Professionals
    • H-1B Repayment Agreements
    • TN Catch-All Categories
    • The B-2 Visitor Visa: A Practical Guide
    • B-1 Visa for Business Visitors
    • H-1B Visa for Specialty Occupation Workers
      • H-1B Visa Lottery
      • H-1B for School Districts
      • H-1B Cap-Gap & OPT
    • H-2A Program
      • DUI and the H-2A Visa
      • Canadian Custom Combine Crews (H-2A)
      • H-2A Mobile Housing
      • H-2A Workers Staying Longer
      • Becoming an H-2A Labor Contractor
      • H-2A Seasonality Requirements
    • H-2B Visa Guide: Cap, Lottery, and Temporary Need
    • H-3 Visa for Trainees and Special Education Visitors
    • K-1 Visa
      • K-1 and Expedited Removal
      • K-1 Meeting Waiver
      • K-1 with Criminal Record
    • K-3 Spouse Visa
    • O-1 Visa for Artists, Scientists, Educators, Businesspeople and Athletes
    • P-3 Visa: A Guide to Culturally Unique Programs
    • R-1 Visa for Religious Workers
    • R-1 Five-Year Limit: Recapturing Time
    • TN Visa: Work Authorization Under USMCA
    • U Visa for Crime Victims: What It Takes and What to Expect
    • Change of Nonimmigrant Status
    • Form I-539: Extension and Change of Nonimmigrant Status
    • Process for US Visa Application Through Admission and Stay
    • Entry into United States
    • I-94 Admission Record: What Controls Your Stay
    • Volunteer Visa USA
    • Humanitarian Parole: Programs, Termination & Options
    • Leaving the United States
  • Immigration Services
    • Premium Processing Eligibility
    • How to Withdraw a Pending USCIS Application
    • RFE Response Help in Montana: When Immigration Requests Can Be Fixed (And When They Can’t)
    • Apostille Services
    • Document Translation Services
    • Picked Up by ICE in Montana: What to Do, Where They Will Be Held, and What Comes Next
    • Why A Strategy Consultation
  • Removal Defense
    • Removal Proceedings Overview
    • Picked Up by ICE in Montana
    • Detention & Bond Hearings
    • Get Your Immigration Court Records
    • Criminal Records & Immigration Status
    • Cancellation of Removal
      • Non-LPR Cancellation
      • VAWA Cancellation
      • BIA Ends Easy LPR Cancellation
    • Withholding of Removal
    • Convention Against Torture (CAT)
    • Adjustment of Status in Immigration Court
    • Green Card Never Valid
    • In Absentia Removal Orders
    • Appeals & Motions
    • Voluntary Departure & CBP Home
  • Waivers
    • I-601A Provisional Waiver
    • I-212 Permission to Reapply
    • Denied Entry to the USA
    • Canadian Rehabilitation
    • Green Card Never Valid
    • AOS with a 10-Year Bar after 212(d)(3)
    • Unlawful Presence
  • Service Area
    • Immigration Lawyer in Montana
    • Immigration Lawyer North Dakota
    • Immigration Lawyer Wyoming
  • Contact
  • Blog
  • EnglishEnglish
    • EspañolEspañol

Removal & Deportation

The BIA Just Ended the Era of Easy LPR Cancellation

September 2, 2026 by Admin-ILM

Man holding a folder overlooking a broad mountain valley at sunset.

If you hold a green card and carry a criminal record, the odds of keeping your status in immigration court just changed – not by statute, not by regulation, but by a run of precedents almost nobody outside the immigration bar has noticed. Over roughly eighteen months, the Board of Immigration Appeals has published nine decisions reversing immigration judges who granted cancellation of removal for permanent residents. Judges who said yes are being told, in print, that the answer was no. Anyone deciding today whether to fight their case needs to understand what that means.

The Old Unwritten Rule

I have practiced immigration law since 1996 and founded Immigration Law of Montana, P.C. in 2001, and for most of those years LPR cancellation ran on an unwritten rule: meet the statutory requirements, put on a reasonable showing – genuine rehabilitation, family in the courtroom, taxes cleaned up, a life visibly worth preserving – and the judge granted. Relief was the norm. The hearing was about earning it.

That did not mean the hearings were easy. The judges I appeared before treated the individual hearing as an interview of the person. They were never satisfied with the mere passage of time since the conviction; they probed for something harder – honest acknowledgment. I have watched clients struggle, in open court, to stop calling an old offense a misunderstanding or a paperwork problem and finally say what it was and why it happened. Those were painful moments, and they were regularly the moments that won the case. The judge who heard a person own his record could believe the record was behind him.

One more observation from those years: many of my LPR cancellation clients were long-settled people whose old convictions surfaced decades late. In my experience, the wave of Notices to Appear against residents with twenty-year-old records followed the government's databases catching up – as state criminal records were digitized and cross-checked against immigration files, cases that had slept for years woke up all at once. The lesson for readers is not the history; it is that old convictions do not expire. For immigration purposes there is no statute of limitations on your record.

Eighteen Months, Nine Precedents

Here is the run, in order. Matter of Bain (2025): grant reversed – the criminal history was recent and repeated, and the rehabilitation showing thin. Matter of Garcia-Flores (2025): the immigration judge exceeded his authority by minimizing the circumstances of the conviction. Matter of McDonald (2025): child-endangerment convictions, with the conduct described in the charging documents, foreclosed favorable discretion. Matter of Jimenez-Ayala (2025), later designated as precedent by the Attorney General: a long-time resident's history of drug use and her exposure of her children to it outweighed the favorable factors, including her claimed remorse and her stated intention to avoid drugs in the future. Matter of Kim (2025): decades of systemic fraud; remorse that began in prison deserved little weight. Matter of Lema Mizhirumbay (2025): repeated workplace-safety violations that killed two employees weighed against discretion – conduct that never produced a conviction still counts. Matter of Germain (2026): criminal charges that produced no conviction, plus reluctance to accept responsibility, outweighed the equities. Matter of Richards (2026): lack of candor about one's own record is an independent adverse factor that can outweigh long residence, family, employment, and hardship combined. And Matter of Mills (2026), designated as precedent by the Acting Attorney General: more than thirty years of residence, close family, steady work, and consistently filed taxes – outweighed by an extensive record capped by a recent conviction that undermined the claim of change.

Read the pattern, not just the cases. The Board publishes a handful of precedents a year, across the whole of immigration law. Spending nine of them on one message – immigration judges are granting discretionary relief too readily to permanent residents with records – is not a coincidence. It is policy, made the way the Board makes policy. Two of the nine did not become precedent through the Board alone – the Attorney General designated them by order, seven months apart. And because the government now appeals grants it once accepted, a win before the immigration judge is no longer the end of the case; it must be built to survive the Board's own fresh look at discretion.

What Changed – and What Didn't

Here is the part I find striking after nearly three decades in these courtrooms: the Board did not invent a new test. It wrote down the old instinct. What my judges did informally – interview the person, discount the mere passage of time, press through equivocation until the truth arrived – is now the published standard. Richards makes candor itself dispositive. Germain makes reluctance to accept responsibility an adverse factor by name. Kim tells you exactly when remorse counts and when it does not. The difference is enforcement: the probing that used to happen mercifully, one hearing at a time, in front of a judge who could still say yes at the end of it, now arrives as appellate reversal after the yes.

What that means practically: the margin for an incomplete showing is gone. A cancellation case in 2026 is built or lost before the hearing – in whether the rehabilitation is documented rather than described, whether the taxes and child support are actually current, whether the client has done the hard personal work of understanding his own record well enough to speak about it without flinching. That last item is the one no checklist captures and no lawyer can do for the client – though a lawyer who understands it can get the client there. It is also, in my experience, the thing judges are really deciding when they decide discretion: not whether you have suffered enough or waited long enough, but whether you have told yourself the truth.

If You Have a Green Card and a Record

Some practical consequences, stated plainly. First, understand what your convictions actually are in immigration terms – the analysis is technical and the stakes are total, starting with whether an old offense stopped your seven-year clock, a trap explained in our cancellation overview. Second, do not create the test case: a green-card holder with a record who travels internationally invites inspection and can convert a dormant problem into a Notice to Appear. Third, if you are already in proceedings, treat the discretionary record as the case: disclosure before discovery, rehabilitation you can hand the judge on paper, collateral life in order, and preparation for the hearing as the interview it is. Fourth, remember the relief is once-in-a-lifetime, and after this line of precedents a close case that would have been granted in 2019 may be denied in 2026 – and a grant may be appealed. The calculus of whether to fight, and how, has genuinely changed; get it assessed honestly in a strategy consultation before the choices narrow. The one thing the Board has not changed – because it cannot – is what has always won these cases: a person who faces his record squarely, fixes what can be fixed, and walks into the courtroom ready to tell the truth about the rest.

Filed Under: Removal & Deportation Tagged With: BIA precedents, cancellation of removal, criminal convictions, green card holders, immigration court discretion

Detained Without a Bond Hearing: Where We’ve Been, Where We Are, and Where This Is Heading

August 30, 2026 by Admin-ILM

Man with a suitcase walking through an open detention facility door, between a door marked §236(a) – Bond Hearing Available and a barred door marked §235(b) – No Bond Hearing

The Rules Just Changed — Quietly

Your family member has been picked up by ICE in the interior of the country. Six months ago, under the rules that applied for most of the last thirty years, they would likely have appeared before an immigration judge within a few weeks for a bond hearing. Many people in their situation would have been released on bond while their removal case moved forward.

Today, they may not have a bond hearing at all. The immigration judge may no longer have the authority to give them one. The rules that seemed settled six months ago are not the rules that apply to their case now.

This article is about how that happened, what the courts are doing about it, and — for the people who still qualify for bond — how the process actually works. It is not a prediction piece. The law is moving, and it will continue to move through the Supreme Court over the coming year or two. What follows is the landscape as it stands in late summer 2026, with enough history to make the current situation legible and enough forward-looking framing to help families and their counsel understand what comes next.

Two Kinds of Detention, Two Legal Frameworks

Every conversation about immigration detention begins with the same structural question: which statute governs the detention? The answer determines whether the person is entitled to a bond hearing, how long they can be held without individualized review, and what options their attorney can pursue.

Two provisions of the Immigration and Nationality Act do the primary work. INA § 236 (8 U.S.C. § 1226) is the general authority for arresting and detaining people already inside the United States while their removal cases proceed. Under § 236(a), the default rule is that a detained non-citizen is entitled to a bond hearing before an immigration judge. The judge decides whether the person is a flight risk or a danger to the community and sets a bond amount that allows release pending removal proceedings. Under § 236(c), people who fall within specified criminal categories are subject to mandatory detention with no bond hearing by statute. In January 2025, the Laken Riley Act (Pub. L. 119-1) expanded those categories dramatically for inadmissible non-citizens: an arrest or charge — not a conviction — for burglary, theft, larceny, shoplifting, assault of a law enforcement officer, or a crime causing death or serious bodily injury now triggers mandatory detention.

INA § 235(b) (8 U.S.C. § 1225(b)) governs detention of people treated as “applicants for admission” — people who, in the eyes of the law, are not yet “in” the country regardless of where they are physically located. Detention under § 235(b) does not include a bond hearing before an immigration judge. Release authority, such as it is, rests with the Department of Homeland Security, typically through the separate mechanism of parole.

The pivot point — the question that this entire article is built around — is which framework applies to a person who entered the United States without inspection but has been living in the interior, often for years or decades. For most of the last thirty years, the operating assumption was that such a person fell under § 236(a) once they were apprehended, and was therefore entitled to a bond hearing. That operating assumption is what the Department of Homeland Security set aside in 2025.

Decision tree showing whether a detained non-citizen gets a bond hearing in 2026: people admitted as lawful permanent residents or on a visa — parole does not count as admission — go to a section 236(a) bond hearing unless the section 236(c) mandatory-detention categories apply; people who entered without inspection fall under section 235(b) with no statutory bond hearing under the 2025 ICE policy, although in the Ninth Circuit, including Montana, courts have rejected that reading and bond under section 236(a) remains available while Rodriguez Vazquez v. Bostock stands; people with final removal orders fall under section 241(a).

A Short History of Immigration Detention in the United States

The current dispute is not a fight over what the statute says. The statute is what it has been since 1996. The fight is over how the executive chooses to use the authority the statute provides, and over what the Constitution requires when the executive’s choice changes. Understanding the history clarifies the current situation.

Before IIRIRA

Immigration detention has existed in some form since the earliest days of federal immigration enforcement. For most of the twentieth century, however, it was limited and discretionary. Bond hearings before an immigration judge were the norm for people placed in deportation proceedings. Congress had not created the broad mandatory-detention categories that define the current framework. The executive detained comparatively few people, and those it did detain generally had individualized review.

IIRIRA 1996: The Statutory Framework That Still Governs

The Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996 — known in immigration practice as IIRIRA — rewrote the detention framework into the structure we still have today. Section 236(c) created mandatory detention for a defined set of criminal categories, requiring the executive to detain certain non-citizens during removal proceedings without the possibility of bond. Section 235(b) gave DHS (then the Immigration and Naturalization Service) broad detention authority over applicants for admission. Section 241(a)(6) — codified at 8 U.S.C. § 1231 — addressed detention of people with final orders of removal who could not immediately be removed.

Congress gave the executive a set of tools. What each administration chose to do with those tools was a policy question that had nothing to do with the statutory text.

The Forbearance Era: Clinton Through Biden

From the Clinton administration through the Biden administration, administrations of both parties generally did not extend § 235(b) classification to long-resident people who had entered without inspection (in practice shorthand: ‘EWIs’) and were apprehended in the interior. Long-term unadmitted residents were processed under § 236(a) and received bond hearings. This was not a judicial requirement. It was a series of policy choices, repeated across four administrations and thirty years, that produced what practitioners, judges, and affected families reasonably took as settled practice.

The forbearance was not universal. Border apprehensions and recent arrivals were treated differently. But for the long-term resident who had built a life in the United States — the parent with U.S. citizen children, the worker with decades of employment, the person whose only immigration violation was the manner of their original entry — the practice was bond hearings under § 236(a). That expectation is what changed in 2025.

Zadvydas v. Davis (2001)

In Zadvydas v. Davis, the Supreme Court addressed what happens when a non-citizen with a final order of removal cannot actually be removed — because the receiving country will not accept them, or because removal is otherwise not reasonably foreseeable. The Court read a six-month reasonable-time limit into § 241(a)(6), holding that after that period, continued detention requires the government to show that removal is still significantly likely in the foreseeable future. The constitutional principle underlying the decision — that civil immigration detention cannot be indefinite without meaningful review — has carried forward into every subsequent case in this area.

Demore v. Kim (2003)

Two years later, in Demore v. Kim, the Court upheld mandatory detention under § 236(c) against a facial due process challenge. The petitioner was a lawful permanent resident detained without bond during his removal proceedings based on a criminal conviction. The Court held that mandatory detention for the “brief” and “definite” period of removal proceedings did not violate due process. Importantly, the Court left open as-applied challenges to prolonged § 236(c) detention — the question of what happens when the “brief” period stretches into months or years. That open question has driven most of the litigation that followed.

Jennings v. Rodriguez (2018)

In Jennings v. Rodriguez, the Supreme Court closed the statutory argument for periodic bond hearings during prolonged detention. The Ninth Circuit had read a six-month statutory right to bond hearings into the detention statutes; the Supreme Court reversed, holding the statutes did not require periodic bond hearings as a matter of text. The Court expressly left open the question of whether the Due Process Clause itself required such hearings. The fight over prolonged detention moved, from that point forward, from statutory interpretation to constitutional law.

Arteaga-Martinez and Aleman Gonzalez (2022)

In 2022, the Court decided two related cases that closed further procedural doors. Johnson v. Arteaga-Martinez held that § 1231(a)(6) — the post-final-order detention statute — does not itself require a bond hearing after prolonged detention. Garland v. Aleman Gonzalez held that 8 U.S.C. § 1252(f)(1) bars federal courts from issuing class-wide injunctions against the federal government in this area, requiring detainees to litigate individually. By the end of 2022, the statutory pathways to mandatory bond hearings were largely closed. The remaining route to relief was individual habeas petitions asserting as-applied due process violations.

The Through-Line

Three decades of statutory and constitutional litigation produced a legal framework that can be summarized in one sentence: Congress gave the executive sweeping detention authority in 1996, the Supreme Court has consistently read the statutes the way they are written, and anyone looking for a bond-hearing guarantee has to ground the claim in the Due Process Clause rather than in the text of the INA. The forbearance of four successive administrations made the harshness of that framework less visible. When the forbearance ended, the framework did not change — but its effects became immediate.

What Changed in 2025

The Lyons Memo

On July 8, 2025, Acting ICE Director Todd Lyons issued interim guidance concluding that § 235 — not § 236 — is the correct detention authority for all “applicants for admission,” a category the memo now reads to include anyone present in the United States without admission, regardless of how long they have lived in the interior. The guidance memo reversed the operating assumption of three decades. Under its framework, a person who entered without inspection in 2003, built a life in Montana, raised U.S. citizen children, and has no criminal record, is — when apprehended by ICE — classified as an applicant for admission under § 235(b) rather than as a § 236(a) respondent entitled to a bond hearing.

The memo itself is framed as a correction: DHS concluded that the agency’s prior legal position was wrong, that 8 U.S.C. § 1225(b)(2)(A)’s reference to “any alien who is an applicant for admission” does not carve out length of presence, and that the agency should detain under the authority the statute actually provides. The American Immigration Council has published a detailed practice advisory on the implications.

The Three BIA Decisions of 2025

The Board of Immigration Appeals bracketed the Lyons memo with precedent decisions. Matter of Q. Li came first, in May 2025; two more followed in September 2025, translating the policy position into binding adjudicative law for immigration judges.

Matter of Q. Li, 29 I&N Dec. 66 (BIA 2025), held that non-citizens apprehended without a warrant while arriving in the United States are held under § 235(b). Matter of Dobrotvorskii, 29 I&N Dec. 211 (BIA 2025), tightened the standards inside bond hearings themselves, holding that sponsor evidence bears on flight risk and vacating an immigration judge’s grant of bond on that record. Matter of Yajure-Hurtado, 29 I&N Dec. 216 (BIA 2025), delivered the decisive holding: immigration judges lack authority to conduct bond hearings for anyone present in the United States without admission, regardless of how long they have been here.

The Yajure-Hurtado petitioner had entered the United States without inspection in November 2022, received Temporary Protected Status in 2024, saw that TPS expire in April 2025, and was apprehended by DHS shortly after. The BIA’s reasoning tracks the statutory text: the petitioner was never formally admitted, therefore he is an applicant for admission, therefore he falls under § 235(b), therefore the immigration judge has no statutory authority to hold a bond hearing. The full decision is available through the Department of Justice’s EOIR media site.

What This Looks Like in the Courtroom

In practice, a person detained after the Lyons memo takes effect may appear before an immigration judge, ask for a bond hearing, and hear the judge say: “I have no authority to give you one.” The judge is not being unsympathetic. Under the BIA’s precedent decisions, the judge’s statutory authority has been removed. The person’s family may have the financial resources to post bond and the documentation to establish community ties, but the procedure in which that evidence would be weighed no longer exists in immigration court for this population.

The only remaining administrative mechanism is parole under § 235(b), which is discretionary with DHS and which the current administration grants sparingly. The remaining judicial mechanism is a petition for writ of habeas corpus in federal district court. That is where the real fight has moved.

The Circuit Split

Two distinct legal questions are currently moving through the federal appellate courts. Readers should keep them separate because they involve different populations and different legal arguments.

The first question is whether ICE and the BIA are correctly reading § 235(b) to reach interior-arrested people who entered without inspection. This is the new § 235(b) reclassification question, and it is the one generated by the 2025 policy shift.

The second question is whether the Due Process Clause requires individualized bond review for people subject to prolonged mandatory detention under § 236(c). This is the older § 236(c) prolonged-detention question. It has been splitting circuits since Jennings, and it predates the 2025 changes.

The § 235(b) Reclassification Cases: Buenrostro-Mendez and Herrera Avila

On February 6, 2026, the Fifth Circuit decided Buenrostro-Mendez, becoming the first federal appeals court to uphold the 2025 ICE policy. The court read the text of § 235(b)(2)(A) as controlling and concluded that ICE has the statutory authority to classify interior-arrested unadmitted persons as applicants for admission. The length of their residence in the United States, the court held, does not change the statutory classification.

On March 25, 2026, the Eighth Circuit reached the same conclusion in Herrera Avila v. Bondi, over a dissent; the full court declined to rehear the case in June 2026. Two circuits have now aligned with the government on the statutory question. On July 30, 2026, the Ninth Circuit — which covers Montana — decided Rodriguez Vazquez v. Bostock, holding that people who entered without inspection and are apprehended in the interior are not subject to mandatory detention under § 235(b)(2)(A); their detention is governed by § 236(a), which allows a bond hearing. The First, Second, Third, Sixth, Seventh, Tenth, and Eleventh Circuits have reached the same conclusion — the Seventh in Rojas v. Olson on July 30, 2026, the First in Guerrero Orellana v. Moniz on August 13, 2026, and the Third in Buele Morocho v. Warden Philadelphia FDC on August 28, 2026 — and as of August 30, 2026, the Fourth Circuit has heard argument and not yet ruled.

The § 236(c) Due Process Line: Banyee v. Garland

In September 2024 — before the 2025 policy shift but addressing the related constitutional question — the Eighth Circuit decided Banyee v. Garland. Nyynkpao Banyee was admitted to the United States as a refugee from Côte d’Ivoire in 2004, when he was six years old. As an adult, he was convicted of drug-possession, theft, and armed-robbery offenses. He was placed in removal proceedings under § 236(c) mandatory detention and held for more than twelve months without any individualized review.

The federal district court granted his habeas petition and ordered that he receive a bond hearing. The immigration judge held that hearing, found that the government had not met its burden of justifying continued detention, and released Banyee on bond. The Eighth Circuit later reversed on the legal question. In a decision critiqued at length by the Harvard Law Review, the Eighth Circuit held that the Due Process Clause does not require a bond hearing for non-citizens subject to prolonged mandatory detention under § 236(c) so long as deportation remains a realistic possibility. After Banyee’s removal order became final, he was detained again — this time under a different statute, § 1231(a), which governs detention after a final order of removal.

Banyee is the constitutional companion to Buenrostro-Mendez and Herrera Avila. Two circuits — most aggressively the Eighth — have now rejected both the statutory and the constitutional arguments for bond hearings in these contexts. Other circuits have not reached these conclusions.

Habeas Corpus and the Role of District Courts

While the appellate picture trends one direction, more than three hundred federal judges across the country — appointed by presidents of both parties — have ruled against the ICE reclassification policy in over 1,600 individual habeas cases. The mechanism matters. A habeas petition is an individual proceeding, not a class action. It produces relief for the specific petitioner. Aleman Gonzalez forecloses class-wide injunctions, so each detainee’s lawyer files their own habeas case in the district court covering the place of detention.

In the Ninth Circuit, district court rulings had generally ordered bond hearings for petitioners challenging § 235(b) classification even before the appellate court ruled. For a person detained in the Ninth Circuit — including anyone held in or transferred from Montana — Rodriguez Vazquez means the immigration judge’s bond authority under § 236(a) is restored while the decision stands. The government may seek rehearing en banc or Supreme Court review, so this is a live front, not a settled one.

The February 2026 Vacatur of Yajure-Hurtado

On February 18, 2026, a federal district court vacated the BIA’s Yajure-Hurtado decision under the Administrative Procedure Act and ordered class-wide notice to potentially affected detainees. The ruling was grounded in APA procedural grounds rather than in the merits of the statutory question, but it is a significant counterweight at the class level. The district court in the same litigation had already vacated the underlying DHS policy classwide on December 18, 2025. In March 2026 the Ninth Circuit stayed that judgment’s effect outside the Central District of California while the government’s appeal proceeds, so the policy’s operative force now varies by where a person is detained. The circuit court rulings upholding the policy remain controlling within their respective jurisdictions. But the BIA’s precedent decision is no longer binding on immigration judges in the same way it was before the vacatur, and the notice requirement has given thousands of detained people information about the habeas route that they did not previously have.

How the Two Sides Reason

The courts that have upheld the ICE policy rely primarily on statutory text. Section 235(b)(2)(A) applies to “any alien” who is an applicant for admission. A person who entered without inspection was never admitted. The text does not carve out a length-of-presence exception. Three decades of agency practice treating long-term residents under § 236(a) was a policy choice, not a statutory compulsion, and policy choices can be revisited. On this view, the Lyons memo is not a legal revolution — it is the agency applying the statute as written, perhaps for the first time in a long while.

The courts that have granted habeas petitions and ordered bond hearings reason differently. They combine three threads. First, statutory-text arguments that § 235(b) was not designed to reach people living in the interior for years and that the government’s reading produces results Congress did not intend. Second, procedural due process concerns about prolonged civil detention without individualized review — Zadvydas’s principle that such detention raises serious constitutional problems when it stretches beyond what the statute’s purpose requires. Third, in some cases, a reliance-and-notice argument: decades of consistent agency practice created settled expectations, and changing that practice to reach people with deep ties to the United States, without procedural review, puts the new policy in constitutional tension with basic fairness principles.

Neither side is making up new law. Both are applying real legal principles to the same facts and reaching different conclusions. That is what a genuine circuit split looks like.

Where This Is Headed

The Supreme Court has already stepped into the adjacent fight: on June 15, 2026, it granted certiorari in Genalo v. Black to decide whether due process requires a bond hearing when mandatory detention under § 236(c) becomes prolonged, and what burden of proof applies. On the § 235(b) reclassification question, the government petitioned for certiorari on June 22, 2026 from its Sixth Circuit loss; a grant on that question, too, is widely expected given the depth of the circuit split. Two federal circuits have aligned with the government. Hundreds of federal district courts have ruled the other way. Tens of thousands of people are in active detention pending the answer — ICE’s daily detained population in fiscal 2026 is the highest ever recorded. The conditions for a cert grant are all present: a clean circuit split, a question of national importance, and an active administrative policy whose scope turns on the answer.

The statutory-text case for the government is that § 235(b)(2)(A) by its terms reaches any applicant for admission. An EWI was never admitted. The text does not carve out length of residence. On this view, the Lyons memo and the Fifth and Eighth Circuits are reading the statute the way it was written, and Congress, if it wanted a different rule, could legislate one.

The due process case against the government draws on Zadvydas and its successors. Prolonged civil detention without individualized review raises serious constitutional concerns. Three decades of consistent agency practice created settled expectations that long-term residents with families and ties in the United States would receive bond hearings under § 236(a). Sweeping that practice aside, without process, for people with deep roots in the country, puts the new policy in tension with fundamental principles about when the government may hold a person in detention.

This article will not predict the outcome. The statutory arguments and the constitutional arguments are both real, and the Court could resolve the case in several ways: accepting the statutory argument and leaving due process questions for future as-applied cases, rejecting the statutory argument, ruling narrowly on procedural grounds, or some combination. What matters to any individual detained person is less which way the Court rules and more what their representation does today — whether they pursue a habeas petition, whether they qualify for relief from removal on the merits, whether they can post bond if ordered released. The broader legal landscape will clarify over the coming year or two. Decisions made in detained removal proceedings in the meantime will stand regardless.

Bond Mechanics for People Who Still Qualify

The 2025 policy shift removed bond-hearing access from a large population, but it did not eliminate the bond system. Lawful permanent residents processed under § 236(a) still receive bond hearings. People admitted on non-immigrant visas whose status is later at issue are generally processed under § 236(a). Petitioners who prevail on individual habeas petitions and obtain bond-hearing orders still need to navigate the bond system. And even within the § 235(b) population, parole granted by DHS operates on a similar logistical framework for release.

The rest of this section is about what the bond system actually looks like in 2026 — how to find a detained person, how bond amounts work, and how to pay.

Finding the Detained Person: The ICE Detainee Locator

Before any bond conversation can happen, families need to know where the person is physically held. ICE’s online detainee locator is the primary public tool. The locator accepts two kinds of searches: by A-number (the seven-to-nine-digit alien registration number, written with an A prefix; the locator requires nine digits, so add leading zeros to a shorter number), or by biographical information including name, country of birth, and date of birth.

The locator has a well-known limitation. In the first hours after an apprehension, and during transfers between facilities, the person sometimes does not appear in the system. ICE continually moves detained people to wherever bed space is available — sometimes across state lines — so a person’s location can change with little notice, and the locator database can lag behind those transfers by hours or occasionally days. In current practice, most people detained in Montana end up at the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma, Washington: DHS administers Montana from the west, with CBP operating out of Seattle and the USCIS field office out of Spokane. A person who appears in the locator today may not appear tomorrow, and a person who did not appear yesterday may appear today. Families who check and see no result should check again on a regular schedule. It is not uncommon for someone to “disappear” from the locator briefly during a transfer and reappear at the new facility.

When the person cannot be located after persistent checking, ICE’s Enforcement and Removal Operations (ERO) field office for the region where the apprehension occurred can usually confirm custody if approached by counsel. Family members without an attorney have a harder time getting that information. This is one of the reasons early engagement with counsel matters.

Who Qualifies for Bond Today

Eligibility turns on which detention statute applies. People processed under § 236(a) are entitled to a bond hearing. People processed under § 236(c) are subject to mandatory detention during proceedings based on specific criminal categories — the full analysis of those categories is set out in our overview at the link below. Since January 2025, the Laken Riley Act has extended mandatory detention to inadmissible non-citizens who are merely arrested for or charged with theft-type offenses and certain assaults — no conviction required. People classified under § 235(b) under the 2025 policy do not receive bond hearings in immigration court; their path to release, if any, runs through DHS parole or federal habeas litigation.

The criminal categories that trigger § 236(c) mandatory detention are not intuitive, and the analysis of whether a particular conviction fits requires careful work. Our overview of criminal convictions and immigration status walks through the four major grounds — aggravated felonies, crimes involving moral turpitude, drug offenses, and the domestic-violence and firearms grounds — and explains how each interacts with mandatory detention.

How Bond Amounts Work

The statutory minimum bond under § 236(a)(2)(A) is $1,500. Actual amounts set by immigration judges vary widely — from the minimum for low-risk cases with strong community ties, to tens of thousands of dollars for cases where the judge weighs flight risk or danger more heavily. The factors the judge considers include the person’s immigration history, criminal record, family ties in the United States, employment, length of residence, and the strength of their underlying relief claim.

A bond set by the immigration judge can be challenged on appeal to the Board of Immigration Appeals, but the appeal does not stay the original bond amount — if the family can post the amount the judge set, release happens at the posted amount regardless of the appeal. The exception runs the other way: when DHS appeals an immigration judge’s decision to grant or lower bond, regulations let the government invoke an automatic stay that blocks release while its appeal is decided. Bond appeals are more commonly used when the immigration judge has denied bond altogether or set an amount too high for any realistic posting.

How to Pay a Bond

Bond payment has changed substantially in recent years. ICE moved bond posting online through its electronic system, CeBONDS, which became the standard method for processing bond payments in April 2023. The system allows prospective obligors to create an account online, verify their identity, upload supporting documentation, electronically complete Form I-352 (the Immigration Bond), and then pay the bond through Fedwire or ACH at their bank. CeBONDS is available only to U.S. citizens, lawful permanent residents, certain nonprofit organizations, and law firms — those are the categories the system recognizes as qualified obligors.

In-person posting at an ICE ERO office is now handled case by case rather than as a standing alternative — and even an obligor who walks in must have access to banking services, because payment moves by Fedwire or ACH rather than cash. Posting hours are Monday through Friday, 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. in the time zone where the detainee is held. Processing the bond typically takes one to two hours, and release typically occurs by the end of the same day.

One practical point worth emphasizing. Families often assume that bond must be posted at the facility where the person is physically detained, which can mean traveling hundreds of miles or across state lines. That is not the case. Bond can be posted at any ICE ERO office with bond acceptance capacity, and — increasingly, through CeBONDS — from anywhere with a bank account and an internet connection. What the family needs to begin is the detainee’s A-number. The location of the family and the location of the detainee are two separate questions.

The Obligor: Who Posts the Bond and What They Take On

The person who posts the bond becomes the obligor under Form I-352. The obligor takes on contractual and legal responsibility for the detainee’s appearance at every future proceeding — every hearing, every check-in, every scheduled event in the case. If the person fails to appear or absconds, the bond is forfeited and the obligor loses the entire amount. The obligation does not end until the case concludes — whether through a grant of relief, an order of removal that is executed, voluntary departure that is completed, or other final disposition.

When the case concludes without breach, the obligor is entitled to the return of the bond principal. This can take months or, more commonly, years. For bonds posted through CeBONDS, notices and the refund process run through the obligor’s online account; for older paper bonds, the obligor must produce the original receipt issued at posting. Either way, keep every bond document for the duration of proceedings.

Surety Bonds Through Certified Companies

When the full bond amount is out of reach for the family, the traditional alternative is a surety bond through a company on the Treasury Department’s list of certified surety companies. The surety company posts the bond on the detainee’s behalf in exchange for a nonrefundable premium — a percentage of the bond’s face amount that varies by company — plus collateral. The premium is not refundable when the case concludes. It is the cost of the service. These companies price for risk much the way subprime lenders do — expect terms closer to a high-risk loan than a bank rate, and read the contract carefully before signing. The underlying bond is returned to the surety company, which has its own internal processes for handling collateral and final reconciliation with the family.

Surety arrangements are a legitimate option, but the family should understand what they are purchasing. The premium, unlike the bond principal itself, is money that does not come back. For some families that cost is the only way to secure release; for others it is worth waiting and posting the principal directly if funds can be gathered. Bond, ultimately, is a means to an end — release while the underlying case is litigated — and for many detained clients that case will rest on protection claims; our guide to withholding of removal in the Ninth Circuit explains the standard the immigration judge will ultimately apply.

Pay-As-You-Go Bond Financing: A Warning

For families without the capital for a full bond and without the credit or collateral to qualify for a traditional surety arrangement, a third option has existed for years: pay-as-you-go bond companies. The mechanics vary, but the core model is consistent. The company pays the bond. The person is released. The family pays the company a monthly fee going forward — sometimes for years — until the case concludes or the contract is otherwise terminated. The appeal of these arrangements is obvious: release now, payment over time, without requiring the large lump sum that a bond or a traditional surety premium demands.

For much of the last decade, the dominant company in this space was Libre by Nexus, a subsidiary of Nexus Services, Inc. The Libre business model combined bond payment with GPS ankle monitoring. The company would pay the bond, attach a GPS ankle monitor to the released person, and charge a monthly fee — often several hundred dollars — for the monitoring service and for bond maintenance. Many of those monthly payments did not reduce the underlying bond obligation. Clients paid for years without amortizing the debt.

In April 2024, following coordinated action by the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau and a multistate coalition led by the New York Attorney General, a federal court entered an $811 million judgment against Libre by Nexus, Nexus Services, and its principals. The judgment required $231 million in consumer restitution and imposed $580 million in civil penalties to the CFPB and participating states. The complaints and the judgment document the business practices alleged by the plaintiffs: fees charged above the face value of the bonds, ankle monitors that caused physical pain and injury, and contract terms that made long-term payment obligations difficult to exit. A July 2020 settlement with the California Department of Insurance, valued at roughly $5.5 million, had required the company to stop transacting immigration bonds in California and phase out its GPS ankle monitors there, but it did not resolve the broader business-practice complaints that produced the 2024 judgment.

Libre by Nexus is the most prominent cautionary tale, but it is not the only company in the pay-as-you-go space, and the market continues to evolve. Families considering any pay-as-you-go arrangement should work through a concrete set of questions before signing.

What is the total projected cost over the expected length of removal proceedings, given how long similar cases are currently taking in the relevant immigration court? How much of each monthly payment reduces the bond obligation, versus paying for monitoring services or administrative fees? Is an ankle monitor required as a condition of the arrangement, and what are the terms governing malfunctions, replacements, or charging requirements that interfere with daily life? What are the terms for early cancellation? Is the company named in any active state attorney general action, CFPB proceeding, or federal class-action litigation? The answers to those questions separate responsible arrangements from predatory ones.

A future companion article on this site will treat Libre by Nexus and other pay-as-you-go options in depth, including a practical framework for evaluating individual contracts and a catalog of the current active companies in the space. For the purposes of the article you are reading now, the point is narrower: pay-as-you-go is a real option for families without the capital for a full bond, and it is also a space with documented predatory conduct that has cost clients hundreds of millions of dollars. Approach any such arrangement with open eyes.

What Families Should Gather Before Calling Counsel

A short practical list. The faster an attorney can get a complete picture, the faster the family can move toward whatever outcome is available.

  • The detainee’s full legal name, date of birth, and country of citizenship.
  • The detainee’s A-number — the seven-to-nine-digit alien registration number beginning with an A; the ICE locator requires nine digits, so add leading zeros to a shorter number. It may appear on prior immigration correspondence, I-94 admission records, work permits, or green cards. Any of those documents is useful.
  • The last known place of apprehension and any information about the current detention facility. The ICE detainee locator is the starting point; calls to the ERO field office may be necessary when the locator is not current.
  • Immigration history: any prior entries to the United States, applications filed with USCIS or the immigration courts, grants or denials of relief, any prior removal orders, any active removal proceedings.
  • Criminal history, including traffic matters, misdemeanors, and deferred or diverted dispositions. Older matters from other states or from the country of origin are as relevant as recent ones.
  • Family ties documentation: marriage and birth certificates, tax returns showing joint filing, proof of U.S. citizen or lawful permanent resident family members, evidence of shared residence.
  • Financial and obligor documentation: proof of U.S. citizenship or LPR status for the prospective obligor, proof of income, recent bank statements. If there is any possibility that bond may be set, having the obligor pre-qualified saves significant time.

It is not uncommon for a family to arrive at the first consultation without some of this information. The attorney will work to fill the gaps. But material already gathered is material that does not have to be reconstructed under time pressure.

What Matters in a Detention Case

The legal landscape is moving quickly. Cases that seemed settled six months ago are being relitigated in federal district courts across the country. Circuits have begun to split. The Supreme Court will almost certainly take the question within the next term or two. In the meantime, people who have lived in the United States for decades, who have families and jobs and homes here, are being held in immigration detention without the procedural review that their counterparts received six months ago.

Representation matters in this environment more than in any other area of immigration practice. The largest national study of representation in immigration court — an American Immigration Council analysis of 1.2 million removal cases — found that only 14 percent of detained immigrants had counsel, and that detained immigrants with lawyers were twice as likely to obtain relief as those without, with the gap widening to more than tenfold among those who sought relief. The reasons are structural — the procedures are technical, the deadlines are short, and the litigation pathways run through federal habeas, BIA appeals, and petitions for review in the courts of appeals. None of that is territory an unrepresented detainee can navigate alone from inside a detention facility. For the full framework on appealing or moving to reopen a removal order, see our companion guide.

Immigration Law of Montana represents detained and non-detained clients in removal proceedings throughout Montana, North Dakota, Wyoming, and the broader Rocky Mountain region. Our removal defense practice includes bond litigation in immigration court for clients who qualify and coordination with families on the logistics of bond posting and release. The firm also maintains a growing federal-court practice — mandamus actions and other district-court filings — and can pursue federal habeas review of prolonged detention in appropriate cases. If the apprehension happened in Montana, see our Montana-specific family guide to the first hours after an ICE arrest. If you or a family member is in immigration detention, or if an apprehension appears likely, contact our office. The earlier we are engaged, the more options remain available.

Immigration Law of Montana, P.C. | immigrationlawofmt.com | This article is for general informational purposes only and does not constitute legal advice. Immigration detention law is moving rapidly and fact-specific. Consult a qualified immigration attorney regarding individual circumstances.

Filed Under: Removal & Deportation Tagged With: bond hearing, immigration detention, ina 235b, ina 236a, removal defense

Arrested Thursday, Gone Friday: What Actually Happened, and Why It Wasn’t Irony

August 29, 2026 by Admin-ILM

Empty wooden chair at a courtroom table with a closed folder, judge's bench behind.

A British political commentator was arrested by immigration officers at a New Orleans airport on a Thursday afternoon in late August. By Friday he was on a plane to London. Roughly a day and a half, start to finish.

If you followed the story, you probably came away with one of two conclusions. Either the government deported a man without any process at all, or a loud advocate of mass deportation got exactly what he had been asking for. Both readings have been everywhere this week. Both are wrong about the law, and the reason they are wrong is worth your attention even if you have no interest whatsoever in Milo Yiannopoulos.

Because the mechanism that removed him in thirty-six hours is not exotic. It is one of the most common ways a person loses an immigration case in this country, and most people who are exposed to it have never heard of it. It is called an in absentia removal order, and it does not require the government to catch you doing anything. It only requires that you not be in the room.

What the government actually said

Stripped of commentary, the Department of Homeland Security’s account is short. Yiannopoulos entered the United States lawfully in New York on May 14, 2019. An immigration judge issued a final order of removal on July 22, 2026, after he failed to appear for his immigration hearing. Immigration and Customs Enforcement arrested him on Thursday, August 27, at Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport. He was removed to the United Kingdom on Friday, August 28. That is the whole of it, as reported by CBS News and Courthouse News Service.

A few things the government has not said, which matter more than they might appear to. DHS has not stated what status he held when he entered. He has said publicly, years ago, that he was in the United States on an O-1 visa for individuals of extraordinary ability, but that is his characterization and not the government’s. DHS has also not said why he missed his hearing, and the record of proceedings in an immigration case is not public. Anyone telling you confidently why he did not appear is guessing.

One correction to a widespread assumption, because it points somewhere useful. A great many readers took this for a visa waiver case — the ESTA program, ninety days, no extensions. It was not, and the tell is the immigration judge. A visa waiver entrant does not get one. Under 8 CFR § 217.4(b)(1), removal of a visa waiver overstay is determined by the district director and is effected without referral of the person to an immigration judge, with a single exception for someone who applies for asylum. The existence of a judge’s order is affirmative proof that a different track was running. If the visa waiver rules are what brought you here, our discussion of asylum for Visa Waiver Program entrants covers that ground.

Why it only took a day and a half

The speed is the part everyone noticed, and the explanation is almost boring: the case was already over. It had been over for five weeks.

Under INA § 240(b)(5)(A), a person who has been given the required written notice and “does not attend a proceeding under this section, shall be ordered removed in absentia if the Service establishes by clear, unequivocal, and convincing evidence that the written notice was so provided and that the alien is removable.” The judge holds the hearing without you and enters the order. The order then becomes final on the ordinary schedule — under 8 CFR § 1003.39, an immigration judge’s decision becomes final upon waiver of appeal or upon expiration of the time to appeal, whichever comes first.

So by the time officers encountered him at the airport, there was nothing left to decide. ICE was not adjudicating anything in New Orleans. It was executing a final order that had been sitting on the books since July. Arrest to removal was fast because the process had already happened — a month earlier, without him in it.

This is the single most important thing to understand about the story, and it generalizes completely. When you read that someone was removed within days of being picked up, the near-certain explanation is not that corners were cut. It is that the case ended some time ago and nobody told you.

What both readings get wrong

Start with the objection that there was no due process. There was process. There was a charging document, a hearing date, and a judge. He did not attend. And the in absentia standard is not a rubber stamp: the government must establish by clear, unequivocal, and convincing evidence both that the required notice was provided and that the person is actually removable. That is a real finding on a demanding standard. It is simply a finding made in the respondent’s absence, which is a very different thing from a finding made without any process at all.

Now the other reading, which deserves a more careful answer than it usually gets. The argument is not merely that he broke a law and the law applied to him. It is narrower and sharper than that: he publicly urged the most aggressive enforcement posture available — “total legal immunity for ICE agents,” a demand that the administration “deport millions and millions of people” — and aggressive enforcement then reached him. Pretending there is no irony in that is not analysis, it is advocacy. The irony is real.

But irony is a literary judgment, not a legal one, and the two questions come apart. The legal question is whether the outcome was correct, and it was. In absentia removal under § 240(b)(5) is not a recent innovation or a policy of this administration; it entered the statute with the 1996 immigration reforms and has operated continuously since. Executing an outstanding final order of removal is the single most routine act ICE performs, and it performs it under every administration of either party. Nothing that happened here required a new policy, a new interpretation, or a new appetite. The same facts would have produced the same result in 2015 or in 2021. The outcome is ironic and it is also ordinary, and those can both be true.

There is one more fact the article cannot skip, because a reader will raise it. A political rival publicly took credit for reporting his immigration status to the administration. Does that make this selective enforcement? The honest answer is that a tip does not make a valid order invalid, and a very large share of interior enforcement begins with somebody telling the government something. What would make a case like this troubling is a defective underlying order, or a showing that similarly situated people are being left alone. On the public record neither appears. It is a fair thing to keep an eye on. It is not an answer to the legal question.

Which leaves one principle worth stating plainly, and only once: the law either applies the same way to a person you like and a person you do not, or it is not law.

What he gave up by not appearing

Here is the part that is genuinely instructive, and it has nothing to do with politics.

We do not know what relief, if any, he might have been eligible for. But whatever it was, every form of it required him to be in the room. Cancellation of removal, adjustment, asylum, voluntary departure — a judge cannot grant any of them to an empty chair. Failing to appear did not merely lose the hearing. It forfeited the entire menu.

Voluntary departure is the clearest illustration, because there is a common belief about it that is wrong. People assume that leaving “voluntarily” means leaving clean. On a long overstay, it does not. Under INA § 212(a)(9)(B)(i)(II), a person who has been unlawfully present for one year or more and who again seeks admission within ten years of the date of departure or removal is inadmissible. Read that clause carefully: unlike the three-year bar in the preceding subclause, it contains no qualifier about having departed before proceedings began. The ten-year bar attaches on any departure, however dignified.

What voluntary departure would actually have bought is real but narrower. It avoids stacking a separate removal-order bar under § 212(a)(9)(A) on top, which is what creates the requirement to ask permission to reapply before returning. And the unlawful-presence bar remains waivable under § 212(a)(9)(B)(v) for someone with a qualifying U.S. citizen or lawful permanent resident spouse or parent. Cleaner, in other words. Not clean.

And a genuinely counterintuitive wrinkle that practitioners get wrong in both directions: under § 212(a)(9)(B)(i)(I), the three-year bar attaches where a person accrued more than 180 days but less than a year of unlawful presence and voluntarily departed before proceedings commenced. For someone in that window, departing on their own initiative can trigger a bar that would not otherwise have attached. Leaving is a legal act with consequences, and it is not automatically the safe choice. Get advice before you go.

An in absentia order is not always the end

This is the section that matters if any of this sounds close to home.

Congress built the escape hatch into the same statute. INA § 240(b)(5)(C) provides two routes to rescind an in absentia order. The first is a motion to reopen filed within 180 days, where the failure to appear was because of exceptional circumstances. The second has no deadline at all: the order may be rescinded “upon a motion to reopen filed at any time if the alien demonstrates that the alien did not receive notice in accordance with paragraph (1) or (2) of section 1229(a)” — or that the person was in federal or state custody and the failure to appear was through no fault of their own.

And one more sentence in that provision is worth more to a frightened person than anything else in this article: “The filing of the motion to reopen described in clause (i) or (ii) shall stay the removal of the alien pending disposition of the motion by the immigration judge.” Filing stops the clock. That is why the response to discovering an old order is a lawyer and a filing, not a suitcase. If you are trying to understand the underlying process, our overview of what to expect in immigration court walks through it. The complete reference – both motion lanes, the evidence, the fees, and the ten-year relief bar – is our page on what happens if you miss your immigration court hearing.

The address problem, and the two forms almost nobody knows about

Nearly every in absentia order we see traces back to the same failure, and it is not defiance. It is mail.

The obligation runs in two stages, on two unconnected systems, and this is where people get destroyed. Before any charging document exists, the only address the government holds for you is the one in USCIS’s records. Under 8 CFR § 265.1, you must report each change of address within ten days, following USCIS’s instructions. If that address is stale, the Notice to Appear itself goes to the wrong place, and you never learn that proceedings have begun. You cannot file a change of address with a court whose existence you do not know about.

The Board of Immigration Appeals has addressed precisely this. In Matter of G-Y-R-, 23 I&N Dec. 181 (BIA 2001), the Board held that entry of an in absentia order “is inappropriate where the record reflects that the alien did not receive, or could not be charged with receiving, the Notice to Appear that was served by certified mail at an address obtained from documents filed with the Immigration and Naturalization Service several years earlier.” That is the fact pattern: the notice went to an address the agency had pulled from an old filing, and the person never saw it.

After the Notice to Appear reaches you, a second and entirely separate system takes over. Under 8 CFR § 1003.15(d)(2), “[w]ithin five days of any change of address, the alien must provide written notice of the change of address on Form EOIR-33 to the Immigration Court where the charging document has been filed, or if venue has been changed, to the Immigration Court to which venue has been changed.” Five days, a different form, a different agency. Telling USCIS does not tell the court. This is one of the most common routes to an in absentia order in our practice, and the people it happens to invariably believe they told “the government.” There is no such single entity to tell.

The consequence of getting stage two wrong is severe, and the Board has been clear about it. In Matter of Nivelo Cardenas, 28 I&N Dec. 68 (BIA 2020), the Board held that where a person personally served with a notice to appear advising him of the requirement to notify the immigration court of his correct address fails to do so and is ordered removed in absentia, reopening to rescind the order for lack of proper notice is not warranted. The statute is blunter still: INA § 240(b)(5)(B) provides that no written notice is required at all where the person has failed to provide the address the law requires. Nobody has to chase you.

So the line that decides these cases is usually a single factual question: did the Notice to Appear ever reach you? If it did not, the no-deadline lane is open. If it did and you then moved without filing an EOIR-33, it generally is not. Everything turns on that.

Why this stopped being a fringe scenario

This used to be a problem for a relatively narrow population. It is not anymore. Under a USCIS policy memorandum issued February 28, 2025, the agency issues Notices to Appear against people whose benefit requests are denied and who are no longer in a lawful status. The practical effect is that the population exposed to the stale-address failure now includes a great many people who were doing exactly the right thing: they filed for a benefit, they were denied, and the charging document went to whatever address the agency last had on file.

We wrote separately about the USCIS side of this trap — what happens when you tell USCIS you moved and get denied anyway — and the pattern there is the same one that ends in an in absentia order here. To be clear about the limits of the comparison: nothing in the public record shows that Yiannopoulos’s case arrived through a denied benefit request, and we are not suggesting it did. The systemic story stands on its own. His case is only the illustration of where it can end.

What to do if any of this sounds like you

First, find out whether an order exists. People are removed on orders they did not know about far more often than anyone would like, and this is checkable. Our guide to getting your immigration court records explains how, and the automated case information system will tell you whether a case exists and what happened in it.

Second, if you have moved at any point while an application was pending or a case was open, assume you have an address problem until you have confirmed otherwise, and fix both systems — not one.

Third, if there is an order, move quickly but do not panic-leave. The lack of a deadline on the no-notice lane is a real advantage, and filing stays removal. Leaving the country on your own initiative before getting advice can convert a fixable problem into a ten-year bar, as the discussion above should make clear.

One word on the self-deportation route, since DHS pitched it in this very story. The department’s CBP Home program currently advertises cost-free travel and a $2,600 exit bonus (the figure published on dhs.gov as of August 29, 2026; it has changed before and should be re-checked against the live page). It may be a rational choice for some people. It is not a reset button. Departing does not dissolve the inadmissibility bars discussed above, and for someone with a viable motion to reopen it can trade a real chance at staying for a certainty of leaving. That is a decision to make with counsel and a full picture, not from a phone app at two in the morning.

The thing worth remembering

The most consequential fact in an immigration case is very often not a legal argument at all. It is whether the mail found you.

That is an uncomfortable thing to say about a system that decides where people live out their lives, but it is accurate, and it is actionable in a way that most immigration problems are not. You cannot control how a judge weighs your equities. You can control whether two federal systems have your current address, and you can find out today whether an order is sitting out there with your name on it. Those two acts prevent more removals than any argument we make in a courtroom. If you think you may have missed a hearing, or you are not sure whether a case was ever opened against you, that is a conversation worth having now rather than after an encounter at an airport. Our removal defense practice is built around exactly these situations, and the phone call is a short one.

Filed Under: Removal & Deportation Tagged With: change of address, EOIR-33, final order of removal, in absentia, motion to reopen, removal defense

When a Green Card Holder Returns Home with a Criminal Charge: The Supreme Court Has Ruled

July 25, 2026 by Admin-ILM

Weathered hand holding a green card above a passport control counter, officer blurred behind

For most lawful permanent residents, returning to the United States after a trip abroad is routine. You present your green card, the officer checks it, and you walk through. The Immigration and Nationality Act reflects that reality: it states that a returning lawful permanent resident “shall not be regarded as seeking an admission” into the United States. You are coming home, not applying for entry.

But that protection has exceptions, and on June 23, 2026, the United States Supreme Court decided how easily the government can invoke the most consequential of them. In Blanche v. Lau, No. 25-429, the Court held, 6-3, that a border officer does not need clear and convincing evidence that a returning green card holder has committed a disqualifying crime before treating that resident as an applicant for admission. A pending charge — not a conviction, not proof — can be enough for the officer to act at the border. The government’s evidentiary burden comes later, at the removal hearing.

If you are a lawful permanent resident with any pending criminal matter, this decision converts what was an open question into settled law: international travel now carries a confirmed, concrete risk. Here is what the Court decided, why the dissent called it “a massive blank check,” and what it means for you.

Two Legal Roads — and Why the Difference Is Enormous

To understand why Blanche v. Lau matters, it helps to know that immigration law provides two separate frameworks for removing a non-citizen from the United States.

The first is deportation under INA § 237. This is the standard track for lawful permanent residents. Under this framework, the government bears the burden of proving — by clear and convincing evidence — that the resident has committed an offense that makes them deportable. The resident is presumed to be a lawful member of the community until the government proves otherwise. Defenses and forms of relief, including cancellation of removal, are available.

The second is inadmissibility under INA § 212. This framework applies to people seeking admission — people who have not yet been formally admitted to the country. Here the burden shifts to the non-citizen to prove they are eligible to enter. The government does not have to prove you are removable; you have to prove you are admissible. Some defenses change as well. Cancellation of removal for long-term permanent residents remains available in principle on either track, but its seven-year residence clock stops on the date the offense was committed, and that rule defeats many residents with an old offense.

A long-term lawful permanent resident placed on the deportation track has real defenses. The same person placed on the inadmissibility track faces a fundamentally different — and harder — fight. The question in Blanche v. Lau was about which track the government is allowed to use, and how much proof it needs at the border to choose the harder one.

What Happened to Muk Choi Lau

Muk Choi Lau, a Chinese citizen, became a lawful permanent resident in 2007. On May 7, 2012, New Jersey charged him with trademark counterfeiting — selling nearly $300,000 worth of counterfeit merchandise. He had not been convicted; the case was pending.

While awaiting trial, Lau traveled to China. On June 15, 2012, he returned through the airport and presented his green card. The officer found the pending charge through a database match. Rather than admitting him as a returning resident, the officer paroled him into the country for deferred inspection — placing him in the legal posture of an arriving alien rather than a returning resident.

Lau pleaded guilty to the New Jersey charge on June 24, 2013. On March 13, 2014, the government initiated removal proceedings — on inadmissibility grounds under § 212, not deportability grounds under § 237. The immigration judge ordered him removed, and the Board of Immigration Appeals affirmed.

In March 2025, the Second Circuit vacated the removal order. It acknowledged that a resident may be regarded as seeking admission after committing a crime involving moral turpitude even without a conviction — but held that the border officer needed clear and convincing evidence of a committed offense at the time of reentry. A pending charge alone was not enough. The court ordered the inadmissibility proceedings terminated, without prejudice to the government charging Lau with deportability based on his now-existing conviction. Because the Second Circuit’s rule conflicted with decisions of the Fifth and Ninth Circuits, the Supreme Court took the case.

What the Supreme Court Held

Justice Thomas, writing for six Justices (Chief Justice Roberts and Justices Alito, Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, and Barrett joined), vacated the Second Circuit’s decision. The holding is direct: “We conclude that the Government properly charged Lau with inadmissibility. Border officers did not have the burden to establish by clear and convincing evidence that Lau had committed a crime involving moral turpitude.” Blanche v. Lau, No. 25-429, slip op. at 9 (U.S. June 23, 2026).

Three points carry the weight of the opinion.

The border is not a courtroom. The clear-and-convincing standard the Second Circuit imposed comes from Board of Immigration Appeals precedent that governs the removal hearing, not the border encounter. In Matter of Valenzuela-Felix, 26 I&N Dec. 53, 57, 64 (BIA 2012), the Board placed the government’s burden “at the time of the removal hearing” — and at Lau’s hearing, the government met it: his guilty plea was clear and convincing evidence that he had committed the crime before he attempted to reenter. The Court declined to add a second, earlier burden on border officers “entrusted with making ‘quick judgments on the spot,'” slip op. at 7 (quoting Luz Munoz v. Holder, 755 F.3d 366, 371 (5th Cir. 2014)), when no such burden appears in the statute.

“Committed” does not mean “convicted.” The statute, 8 U.S.C. § 1101(a)(13)(C)(v), lets the government regard a returning resident as seeking admission if he “has committed” a qualifying offense — and the Court read that word literally. The government may treat a resident as seeking admission as soon as he “committed a” crime involving moral turpitude “even if (as in [Lau’s] case) the conviction occurred” later. Slip op. at 9 (quoting Barton v. Barr, 590 U.S. 222, 232 (2020)). Rejecting the argument that a conviction is required, Justice Thomas was blunt: “One does not commit a conviction.” Slip op. at 9.

The proof comes later. The decision does not eliminate the government’s burden — it locates it at the removal hearing, where the government must still establish, on the evidence produced there, that the resident committed the disqualifying offense. What the officer at the border needs is far less: enough to treat the returning resident as an applicant for admission and parole him in while the case is assembled.

The Dissent: “A Massive Blank Check”

Justice Jackson, joined by Justices Sotomayor and Kagan, wrote a dissent nearly twice the length of the majority opinion. Its core warning is about what the border officer’s judgment now rests on — and what the resident loses the moment it is made.

“A demotion to the status of ‘seeking an admission’ is not costless,” she wrote. “Quite to the contrary, it comes with significant deprivations.” Blanche v. Lau, No. 25-429, slip op. at 8 (Jackson, J., dissenting). The resident loses the procedural footing of an admitted person: the burden flips, and relief that would be available on the deportation track falls away.

On the majority’s reading of “committed,” Justice Jackson invoked first principles: “It is a fundamental maxim in our country that all are innocent until proven guilty.” Slip op. at 17 (Jackson, J., dissenting). Lau’s indictment alone, she argued, could not establish that he had “committed” anything.

And her closing concern is the one every permanent resident should read twice: “I worry that the Court has now handed the Government a massive blank check.” Slip op. at 17 (Jackson, J., dissenting). A border officer who concludes — on a database hit, on a pending charge, on evidence no court has tested — that a returning resident “has committed” a qualifying crime may now reroute that resident onto the harder track, and the check on that judgment comes only later, at a hearing where the resident already stands demoted.

What This Means for Lawful Permanent Residents Now

Before June 23, 2026, this risk was an open question that prudent travelers planned around. It is now confirmed law.

If you are a lawful permanent resident with any pending criminal matter — an open charge, a deferred prosecution, a matter under investigation — the decision to travel internationally is an immigration decision, not just a personal one. You need legal advice before you go.

A pending charge alone can now support the government’s decision to parole you at the border and pursue removal on the inadmissibility track when you return. The government does not need to prove anything to the border officer’s satisfaction beyond what the statute itself requires, and the Supreme Court has held that the statute requires very little at that moment. The stakes of that inspection have risen: the Board is now publishing precedents denying cancellation to long-time residents.

This is not a hypothetical concern for Montana residents. Lawful permanent residents working in agriculture and other industries, people with older matters they consider resolved, and long-term green card holders who have never had reason to think carefully about their immigration status are all potentially affected. A conviction that an immigration attorney might successfully manage in deportation proceedings becomes a much harder problem when the government can pursue it on the inadmissibility track instead — and Blanche v. Lau confirms that your own trip abroad is what hands the government that option.

It is also worth remembering that even a minor conviction — one that would carry no immigration consequence for a permanent resident who stays put — can create real complications at the border when a green card holder returns from international travel. We covered the day-to-day obligations that come with permanent residence, including the risks that travel creates, in our guide to keeping your green card. Blanche v. Lau sits at the intersection of that body of law and the specific vulnerability that international travel creates — and the intersection just became more dangerous.

What to Do

If you are a lawful permanent resident with any pending criminal matter, do not assume that travel will be routine, and do not assume that an unresolved charge is invisible. Database checks at ports of entry surface pending state charges, as Lau’s case shows. Consult an immigration attorney before you book the flight. The conversation is short; the consequences of skipping it can be severe and, after this decision, largely beyond challenge. If you are already back and facing an inadmissibility charge, a § 212(h) waiver can sometimes be requested before the immigration judge.

Immigration Law of Montana has represented lawful permanent residents facing removal proceedings for nearly twenty-five years, including cases involving the criminal grounds of removal and the interaction between pending charges and immigration status. If you have questions about how a criminal matter — resolved or pending — may affect your ability to travel and return, contact our removal defense practice before you travel.

This post analyzes the Supreme Court’s decision in Blanche v. Lau, No. 25-429 (U.S. June 23, 2026). It is for general informational purposes and does not constitute legal advice. Consult a qualified immigration attorney regarding your individual circumstances.

Filed Under: Blog, Removal & Deportation Tagged With: Blanche v. Lau, criminal immigration, inadmissibility, lawful permanent resident, LPR travel, Supreme Court

Deported and Want to Return? Know the Facts First

July 7, 2026 by Admin-ILM

A person methodically reviewing and organizing immigration file folders and documents at a desk

I was in Mexico recently, on the coast south of the border, and my wife and I did what we always do on a trip: we went looking for restaurants we can’t get near where we live, outside Billings, Montana. One night it was an Italian place. The food and the service were both very good, and the owner, who had been attentive all evening, stopped to talk as we were leaving.

Thirty years of immigration practice has made me a decent conversationalist, so it did not take long before he was telling me his story. He owned the restaurant. He was Mexican; his wife was a U.S. citizen. And then, almost in passing, he mentioned that he had been removed from the United States several times, and that they had recently hired a law firm in another state to help them get a “pardon.”

That is the moment my mind started working — and, I will admit, working a little too fast. I had a glass of wine in me, I was thirty years into knowing this area cold, and I did what experienced people do: I diagnosed on the spot. This is a story about that diagnosis, why it was wrong, why it took me until the next morning to see how wrong, and the rule I apparently have to relearn every few years. The rule is simple to say and hard to live by: before an immigration lawyer can plan, the lawyer has to know. And “know” does not mean “listen to the client.”

The word that doesn’t exist

Start with the word “pardon,” because it is where the whole problem hides. There is no such thing as a pardon in this corner of immigration law. It is a lay word, and the client had filled it with meaning that may or may not match reality. My job — anyone’s job — is to figure out which real remedy that word is standing in for.

There are really only two candidates, and they do different things. One is permission to reapply for admission, filed on Form I-212 — the government’s consent to let a person who has been removed come back before the bar on their return has run its course. The other is the 212(d)(3) waiver, a broad discretionary waiver that can forgive most grounds of inadmissibility — but only for someone seeking temporary, nonimmigrant admission. Which one applies, or whether both do, depends entirely on facts I did not have at that table. That did not stop me from picking one.

My first mistake, over a glass of wine

My instinct went straight to the 212(d)(3) waiver. I was already several moves ahead in my head: this man is going to need to be admitted to the United States, and admission does not happen without a visa or a border crossing card, and none of that happens while he is inadmissible, so the real action is the waiver of inadmissibility, and the I-212 “pardon” his lawyers were chasing was beside the point. I was, I’m afraid, a little insistent about it.

Here is what was actually going on. Thirty years of pattern recognition let me match his story to a familiar shape almost instantly, and the speed felt like expertise. It usually does. That is exactly what makes it dangerous. The faster you can produce a confident answer, the less you notice that you are answering a question the facts have not yet earned. Add a relaxed dinner, a glass of wine, and a client telling the story with confidence of his own, and you have the precise conditions under which a good lawyer commits to a theory too early. Competence is not a defense against this. It is the accelerant.

The second thought: he needs permission to reapply

It hit me the next morning, without the wine. If this man has been deported, ever, he is going to need permission to reapply regardless of anything else. You cannot waiver your way around the fact of a prior removal; the removal itself creates a bar on returning, and the I-212 is the thing that addresses that bar. So the other firm’s “pardon” was not beside the point at all. It might be exactly right. He may well need the I-212 and a 212(d)(3) waiver — they solve different problems and are not mutually exclusive.

For a plain map of which form answers which recorded ground, and when two filings travel together, see how the immigration waivers fit together.

How long that bar lasts depends on how he was removed. Under the statute governing inadmissibility after removal, a person removed as an arriving alien faces a five-year bar; a person removed after being in the interior faces ten years; a second or subsequent removal pushes it to twenty; and an aggravated felony conviction makes it permanent. “Removed several times,” which is what he told me, is not a detail. It is potentially the difference between a ten-year bar and a twenty-year one — and, as I will explain, possibly something far worse than either.

So by breakfast I had already been wrong twice: wrong to wave off the I-212, and wrong to think one remedy would answer the whole question. And I still did not have the facts.

The technical layer: reinstatement and the permanent bar

The next few paragraphs go into the statutory machinery — reinstatement of removal and the permanent bar. If you just want the practical takeaway, skip ahead to “What a careful lawyer does first.”

Here is the part that should worry anyone advising this man, and the reason the word “pardon” is not just imprecise but potentially misleading.

He said he was removed several times. You do not get removed several times by staying in Mexico. Each additional removal implies that he came back in between — and how he came back is everything.

Reinstatement of removal

If a person who has already been removed reenters the country illegally, the government does not have to start over with a fresh case in front of an immigration judge. Under reinstatement of removal, the old removal order is simply revived from its original date. There is no new hearing, and — this is the hard part — the person “is not eligible and may not apply for any relief.” An officer needs only to confirm three things: that a prior order exists, that the person is the same person, and that they reentered unlawfully. A client who has been “removed several times” may be one encounter away from a reinstated order that forecloses the very relief his lawyers are preparing.

The permanent bar

Worse, that same pattern — unlawful presence followed by an illegal reentry after a removal — is what triggers the permanent bar under INA 212(a)(9)(C). Unlike the ordinary five- or ten-year bars, this one does not run while the person waits. The only way through it is to remain physically outside the United States for at least ten years and then ask for permission to reapply. The Board of Immigration Appeals held in Matter of Torres-Garcia that you cannot shortcut this — an I-212 approval obtained before the ten years are up does not cure the bar, and it will not be granted early. It is the same bar that stops even parole in place from delivering a green card to someone who otherwise qualifies for one.

Sit with what that means for the dinner conversation. If this man is subject to the permanent bar, then an I-212 filed today is not merely the wrong first step — it is a filing that cannot succeed, because the ten-year clock has not run. And a 212(d)(3) waiver, while it can get a nonimmigrant temporarily across the border, does nothing to deliver the green card his U.S.-citizen wife would presumably want to petition for. You could do a great deal of careful, expensive work and still be preparing a remedy for the wrong bar. Not because anyone was careless — but because the plan was built on facts nobody had verified.

That is the whole case for what comes next.

What a careful lawyer does first: find out what actually happened

I spent a career before the law as a chemist, and the reflex that training leaves you with is this: a hypothesis is not a result. You do not report what you think is in the flask. You run the assay. In an immigration case with any removal history, the assay is a set of Freedom of Information Act requests, and it comes before you file anything.

I would file two, and I would file them deliberately different. One request by name, and one keyed to fingerprints. The reason for two is the reason this whole article exists: the client’s account is not reliable, and neither, by itself, is any single government database.

A name-based request will pull what the agency has filed under the identity the client gave you. A fingerprint-based search — the FBI Identity History Summary, the old “rap sheet” — matches on the one thing a person cannot swap out or forget: their own hands. It surfaces encounters, arrests, and aliases the client never mentioned, sometimes because he did not think they mattered and sometimes because he genuinely does not remember them. In a “removed several times” case, the fingerprint history is often the only place the true sequence of events survives intact.

And because no single agency holds the whole picture, the requests fan out across the government that produced the history:

  • USCIS holds the A-file, the master immigration file — petitions, prior applications, notices.
  • Customs and Border Protection holds the border-crossing and inspection record — entries, exits, encounters at the port, expedited removals.
  • ICE holds the detention and removal records.
  • The immigration court (EOIR) holds the record of proceedings — the charging documents, the orders, the appeals.

Each of these can be incomplete or inconsistent with the others, which is not a bug in the method — it is the point. A removal that shows up in a court file but not the A-file, or a border turnaround the client “forgot,” is exactly the kind of fact that decides whether you are dealing with a ten-year bar, a twenty-year bar, or the permanent bar. You find it by cross-checking, not by asking.

Which bar are you actually facing?

The reason the sequencing matters is that a handful of facts — most of which the client cannot reliably supply — sort a case into completely different worlds. Was the last event a removal, a voluntary return, or an expedited removal at the port? Did he reenter unlawfully afterward? How much unlawful presence did he accrue? The answers route the case down separate paths with separate remedies and separate timelines, and the paths do not converge. That is why the FOIA results, not the client’s summary, have to come first: you cannot pick the path until you know which fork you are standing at.

Decision tree, ‘Which bar are you actually facing?’: if you did not reenter unlawfully after a removal, the 212(a)(9)(A) bar applies — 5, 10, 20 years, or permanent — and Form I-212 can be filed now; if you did reenter unlawfully, the 212(a)(9)(C) permanent bar and reinstatement apply and require ten years outside the U.S. first; begin with FOIA requests by name and fingerprints

Why clients can’t tell you — and why that isn’t their fault

Here is the truth I keep having to relearn, and it is not a knock on anyone: clients are poor reporters of their own immigration history. Not because they are dishonest, but because the events that matter to the law do not feel distinct as they are lived.

Consider how a border event is experienced. A person is stopped, held for some hours, and sent back. To him, that is one thing: he “got sent back.” But to the law, a voluntary return, an expedited removal, and a removal after proceedings are three completely different events with three completely different consequences — and he has no way of knowing which one happened to him, because nobody at the time explained it in those terms, and it may have happened years ago in a language that was not his first. Layer on the ordinary erosion of memory, the stress of the events themselves, and the simple fact that most people do not think in statutory categories, and you get an account that is offered in complete good faith and is still not something you can build a filing on.

This is why “know your client” cannot mean “believe your client.” It has to mean verify, through the record, what actually happened — and then have the harder conversation, the one grounded in the FOIA results rather than the story over dinner.

On parallel processing: prepare in parallel, but don’t file blind

I am a believer in parallel processing. I can imagine a defense of the other firm along these lines: the client related something that plainly looked like a deportation, so they opened the I-212 to save time and ran the FOIA requests alongside it. Get everything moving at once.

I understand the impulse, and I do not fully accept it. There is a clean line here worth drawing. Running your investigation in parallel with your case preparation — intake, drafting, gathering the qualifying-relative evidence, counseling the client on cost and risk — is good practice. Running your investigation in parallel with an actual filing is not, when the content of that filing depends on facts you do not yet have. An I-212 asks you to identify the removals you are seeking permission to overcome. File it before the FOIA results are in and you are attesting to a history you are guessing at — and, if the permanent bar is in play, filing something that cannot be granted at all. Prepare in parallel. Do not file in the dark.

Could the other firm be right? I honestly can’t say

And now the part that keeps me honest. I have spent this article second-guessing a firm I know almost nothing about — based entirely on what a restaurant owner told me on his way past our table.

Do you see the problem? To conclude that the other firm started in the wrong place, I would have to trust the client’s account of what the L.A. firm is doing. That is the exact thing this whole article says you cannot rely on. Maybe they ran the FOIA requests weeks ago and the I-212 is a perfectly informed next step. Maybe “pardon” was the client’s word for something they never called that. I don’t know what that firm is doing, and neither does anyone else working from a secondhand summary — which is the point, turned back on myself. The lesson is not “that firm got it wrong.” The lesson is that none of us — not the other firm, not the client, and certainly not me with a glass of wine at dinner — can plan a case we have not yet verified.

The rule, one more time

Thirty years in, I jumped to a conclusion at a dinner table, and I was wrong before I finished the entrée. The correction did not come from knowing more law. It came from remembering the order of operations. In a case with any removal history, the first move is not the I-212 and it is not the waiver. It is finding out what actually happened — by fingerprint and by name, across every agency that touched the file — and only then deciding what to file. To plan, you have to know. And knowing, in this work, is something you build from the record, not something you are told.

If you or a family member has been removed from the United States and is trying to find a lawful way back, that verification is where a competent case begins. We handle removal and post-removal matters for clients across Montana, North Dakota, Wyoming, and the Rocky Mountain West, and we are glad to talk through where yours actually stands — after we have looked. Start by requesting your immigration court records so you know exactly what kind of removal order is in your file.

Filed Under: Removal & Deportation Tagged With: 212(d)(3) waiver, FOIA, Form I-212, permanent bar, permission to reapply, reinstatement of removal

Footer

Our Location

We are located about 20 minutes NE of Billings in a rural community:

Immigration Law of Montana, P.C.
8400 Clark Rd
Shepherd, MT 59079
406-373-9828

Affiliations

Montana State Bar

AILA Member

 

Social

  • Facebook
  • LinkedIn
  • Tumblr
  • Twitter
  • YouTube
  • Immigration Lawyer Montana
  • Privacy Policy
  • Disclaimer
  • Terms of Service
  • Site Map
  • Contact Us

COPYRIGHT © 2026 Immigration Law of Montana · All Rights Reserved

  • EnglishEnglish
  • EspañolEspañol