On the ICE shooting in Marble Hill

“Did you hear about the ICE shooting?” I asked my friend.

“Which one?” they replied.

On Oct. 8, Oscar Belgal was shot by an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent while in his car with a five-year-old, assumed to be his son, in Marble Hill. According to police, an agent fired multiple rounds into the car, striking him in the neck. The child was not physically injured. The Department of Homeland Security claims the altercation escalated when Belgal refused to leave his vehicle and struck two cars, prompting agents to fire. The armed agents approached in construction worker vests and masks, unlike recognizable law enforcement. Belgal’s lawyers have challenged the lawfulness of his arrest. With this article, I don’t intend to examine Belgal’s innocence, but rather the circumstances of his arrest and the violence he was subjected to.

While I was not present for the shooting, it occurred right outside my apartment building as I was on my way home for fall break. The shooting forced me to confront the false belief that New York City would protect me from the agendas of the Trump administration concerning immigration. That sense of protection was a privilege, and is why so many stay passive in the conversation on ICE raids. We should not have to wait for violence to reach our neighborhoods before demanding our human right to fair treatment and accountability through our civic rights.

I do not mean that fears concerning immigration policy were new to my community, or that immigrant New Yorkers had ever shared my sense of security. Those fears have always existed. By writing this article, I aim to join the conversation that immigrant New Yorkers, organizers and allies have been having long before this happened. New Yorkers have never been silent about immigration issues.

For me, the shooting was unprecedented, not impossible. I had already seen reports of ICE raids and violent altercations across the country on my feeds. I’ve seen locals on Instagram and TikTok share information about ICE sightings within the general West Bronx community. I’ve always reacted with disgust and frustration, yet somehow this one seemed to matter more to me.

I didn’t know Belgal personally, but I learned through my community that he lived in my building. This incident happened in my neighborhood as my younger brothers were coming home from school. On my bus ride back to the city, I was anxious, contemplating the implications of the shooting and the proximity of an issue I had previously felt separate from.

It’s easy to feel helpless about an issue happening all over the country, especially when it appears so frequently on our social media timelines. I think it’s part of why so many people refuse to engage in politics and take action. Geographically, things can feel less real when they happen far away.

But why did I feel more for this incident than others? I had always felt horrible for the people who had died, the families affected, the people in videos circulating online being ripped away from their loved ones. Yet, I never felt compelled to participate in protests, post online or write about this issue.

The incident became personal for me not only because of the shock, but because an issue I thought I would never face suddenly showed up at my doorstep. I understand how small someone can feel about injustice happening across the country, and how hard it is to act when day-to-day life is already so demanding. But feeling removed from a policy’s consequences doesn’t make them any less urgent.

The immediate response to the altercation in my community unearthed a pride I have in Marble Hill. Belgal, like me, is Dominican, and the anger in my community could be seen and felt in protests that followed. But that reaction should not depend on sharing a neighborhood or identity. I want anyone, anywhere, to feel it, because violence and abuses of power should concern us enough to act.

Outside my window is a hand-painted sign saying “ICE Shot Oscar Here,” along with posters saying “Your Neighbors Were Kidnapped.” The chilling reminder will live in my neighborhood’s history.

For those of us who feel protected, as I did, we should question whether comfort has made us passive about what is happening in this country. Such a reaction is human, but our inaction allows injustice to continue. Not everyone affected by the violence of immigration enforcement can vote to change it.

I urge the people of New York, including those of us at Binghamton, to approach this issue with humanity and empathy. Don’t wait for another shooting.

Nicholas Rubiera, a Pipe Dream Opinions Intern, is a junior majoring in sociology.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.

On the ICE shooting in Marble Hill

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