Agnes Gibboney carries a grief that never fades. Her son, Ronald, was stolen from her by a violent act – a shooting committed by someone who had previously been deported. For two decades, she’s lived with the agonizing emptiness, a void that echoes with unanswered questions and a profound sense of injustice.
Now, a proposed bill in California has reopened those wounds. The legislation would allocate taxpayer dollars to provide legal defense for immigrants facing deportation. To Gibboney, it’s a slap in the face, a betrayal of the citizens she believes are being forgotten.
“My son was murdered,” she stated, her voice raw with emotion. “Not one politician has ever contacted me. Not one has offered condolences for the loss of my son to a criminal who should not have been here.” She’s reached out to Governor Gavin Newsom countless times, sending email after email, yet silence has been his only response.
The bill’s supporters argue it’s about ensuring due process and fairness within the legal system. Assemblymember Mia Bonta, the bill’s author, frames it as upholding California’s values – dignity and the right to a fair hearing for all. She points to the previous administration’s aggressive deportation policies as a catalyst for this measure.
But for Gibboney, the argument rings hollow. She sees a state grappling with a massive debt, struggling with a soaring cost of living and a homelessness crisis, yet seemingly eager to spend resources on those who entered the country illegally. “California is billions of dollars in debt. How much more can you take from us?” she demanded.
The pain is deeply personal. Ronald da Silva wasn’t just a statistic; he was a son, a father to two young children, aged eight and ten at the time of his death. Gibboney poignantly notes the stark contrast: families separated by deportation can often reunite, while her family faces a permanent, irreversible separation – six feet of dirt marking Ronald’s final resting place.
The proposed bill isn’t happening in a vacuum. It comes amidst heightened scrutiny of “sanctuary” policies, with critics arguing these policies prioritize undocumented individuals over the safety and well-being of citizens. Groups like The American Border Story, representing families of victims of migrant crime, have condemned the bill as a dangerous incentive to illegal immigration.
While some argue that certain criminal histories might disqualify individuals from receiving state-funded legal aid, Gibboney fears the bill sends a dangerous message. She believes Newsom’s priorities lie with securing votes, not with protecting the citizens he swore to serve. “He doesn’t care about legal immigrants like myself,” she asserted.
Gibboney’s plea is urgent, a desperate call to action. She urges California voters to reject what she calls “this insanity,” warning that tomorrow, another family could suffer the same devastating loss she has endured. Her son’s death, she believes, is a chilling reminder of the potential consequences of prioritizing anything over the safety and security of its own citizens.
Even with Newsom facing term limits, Gibboney’s fight isn’t over. She believes a fundamental shift in priorities is needed – a return to serving “we the people,” and a responsible allocation of resources towards education, veteran care, and senior healthcare, rather than what she views as a misguided and unjust expenditure.
