7 July 24-30, 2025 miaminewtimes.com | browardpalmbeach.com NEW TIMES | CONTENTS | LETTERS | NEWS | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | CAFE | MUSIC | TRIBAL RESISTANCE Indigenous residents seek to shut down Alligator Alcatraz. BY KAT GRIMMETT S cores of Floridians have trekked into the Ever- glades this month to voice opposition to the state-run immigrant detention center known as Alligator Alca- traz, built adjacent to Miccosukee villages along the Tamiami Trail west of Miami. Indigenous youth hosted a series of protests at the Miccosukee Panther Clan village, less than half a mile from the site. “My family took us up there to fish, to hunt, to go mudding, it holds a lot of memo- ries for all of us,” Mae’anna Osceola-Hart, 21, member of the Miccosukee Panther Clan and Seminole Tribe, tells New Times. “To see it turn into what it’s gonna be, it’s saddening, all of our memories are going to be erased.” On July 1, organizers led a march from the Panther village to the entrance road to Alliga- tor Alcatraz, where President Donald Trump and other state and federal officials had trum- peted the cage-filled tent city earlier that day. Miccosukee and Seminole youth orches- trated the gathering alongside Unidos Immo- kalee, a grassroots group that advocates for immigrant rights. Organizers took to the mi- crophone to express outrage, share resistance tactics, and discuss the intersecting ecologi- cal, ethical, and economic reasons to oppose Alligator Alcatraz. “It’s stressful knowing that there’s going to be people held against their will in a place that is not sufficient to hold anybody,” Saun- dra Lory Osceola of the Miccosukee tribe tells New Times. “These used to be entrances to old ceremonial grounds when my grand- mother’s generation was younger. We would come out here with music and just decom- press, and we can’t have that anymore.” On July 15, the Miccosukee Tribe filed as plaintiff in support of the lawsuit against Alli- gator Alcatraz, joining Friends of the Ever- glades and the Center for Biological Diversity in united opposition to the detention center. The Miccosukee Tribe’s fight against the fa- cility is the latest in a legacy of resistance to land grabs. A threat to the tribe’s subsistence in the Everglades loomed last year, when the Na- tional Park Service proposed defining 200,000 acres of Big Cypress as “wilderness.” After tens of thousands voiced opposition, the park service dropped its bid in November. This was not the first time indigenous land rights were challenged in the name of conser- vation. “When Everglades National Park was cre- ated, they de-designated that Indian territory to become a part of Everglades National Park,” notes Betty Osceola, a member of the Miccosukee Panther Clan renowned for her environmental activism. “At that time, the Miccosukees and Seminoles were told that they were incompatible with the purpose of the park and they had to move out.” A Detention Center Amid a National Preserve Alligator Alcatraz was built deep in the Big Cypress National Preserve, atop an aban- doned airstrip. Miami-Dade County pur- chased this land in 1968, aiming to construct “the world’s largest airport.” But county offi- cials hadn’t cleared the plan with government regulatory boards or neighboring indigenous groups. After years of uproar from activists, including Marjorie Stoneman Douglas and tribal leaders like Wild Bill McKinley Osceola, the airport plan and the airstrip were abandoned. “My great-grandpa was one of the men that fought against the airport as well as other tribesmen and environmentalists,” Osceola- Hart says. “To be here today, it’s crazy to watch history repeat itself, and it’s crazy that this is happening, but I have to fight just like my great grandpa did.” Contractors erected the tent city with eye- popping speed, able to bypass zoning laws, lo- cal government ordinances, and federal funding restrictions thanks to an emergency order issued by Gov. Ron DeSantis. Osceola-Hart’s aunt, Wynter Dawn Billie, learned how to drive along the road leading into Alligator Alcatraz. Now, she cautions her children against crossing the road to the mail- box, weary of the semi-trucks routinely pass- ing their home. Transport for detainees to the facility follows the bus route for Miccosukee schools. “Even in my house, when we are trying to sleep, we can hear it,” Billie says. “The trucks are going through day and night. They don’t stop. Even the trucks that go in and out of here, they’re speeding down the road.” Osceola-Hart and Billie emphasize that Indigenous rights and immigrant rights in- tertwine at Alligator Alcatraz, and that the two groups share a long history as allies. “My grandma would tell these stories about when her [family] would go to Homestead and work alongside farmworkers and pick toma- toes hours on end just to make a couple cents,” Osceola-Hart shares. “Their hard work would never go unnoticed with us. They worked alongside them, you know, they understand. For this to be only an environmental issue, what are we doing? This also involves the peo- ple affected by being put in there.” Nearly 58,000 people are currently held in immigration detention centers nationwide. Since January, at least five people have died while in U.S. Immigration and Customs En- forcement (ICE) custody in Florida, including Isidro Pérez, 75, who was being held at the no- torious Krome Detention Center 30 miles east of Alligator Alcatraz. Pérez’s death marked the 11th life lost in ICE custody since January. “I think we’re all treated the same in that they treat us like we have no voice, but mean- while we’re the backbone of this entire coun- try,” Billie says. “They feel entitled to take whatever they want, and this is proof right here — they don’t care about human life.” Environmentalists and Weather Experts Sound the Alarm Alligator Alcatraz places thousands of immi- grants on terrain that’s deeply vulnerable to hurricanes. In June, experts sounded the alarm regarding federal cuts to storm-moni- toring satellite technology. Meanwhile, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) allocated $625 million from its Shel- ter and Services Program to sustain the de- tention center. “Let’s say if you’re conservative leaning, if you’re all about government efficiency, you’re wasting almost half a billion dollars for what — a dog and pony show out here? It’s a mas- sive waste of resources, in addition to being an affront to people’s rights as humans,” Wil- liam “Popeye” Osceola, Secretary of the Mic- cosukee Business Council, says. For Miccosukee and Seminole tribe mem- bers, it’s yet another battle in an ancient ances- tral fight. Before Alligator Alcatraz, Jetport, Big Cypress, and Florida statehood, the Micco- sukee people found protection in the ham- mocks that dot the Everglades. Fleeing attacks from the U.S. Army, roughly 100 Miccosukee people escaped into the River of Grass. Thus began a long history of steadfast stewardship. Environmentalists argue that Alligator Al- catraz threatens water flow and sewage man- agement in the Everglades, which replenishes drinking water in Florida’s aquifer. The state’s aquifer serves the largest population of any in the nation, including local tribes like the Mic- cosukee and all of South Florida. “I was talking to my family that when this is all over — because this should be over — that our tribes, Seminole and Miccousukee, should join together and purchase land from the county,” Osceola-Hart says. “We are just so tied to everything around us, we have to protect whatever we can.” [email protected] Miccosukee and Seminole youth are leading protests against Alligator Alcatraz, built near sacred lands in the Everglades. Photo by Kat Grimmett | METRO |
