Operation Streamline

They are brought into the Tucson, Arizona, courtroom 70 at a time. Brown-skinned people, mostly men. Dusty jeans. Faded t-shirts. Calloused hands. Muscled arms. Weary faces.

They are already seated when we enter. Quietly taking our seats in the back. It’s hard to see the handcuffs and chains, because they sit with their hands in their laps, their shoulders hunched. But we hear the chains rattle each time a man stands up. Which they have to do when the clerk calls their case number and name.

“Tony Ramirez." Then the clanking chain and the voice: “Presente.”