Birthright citizenship made me American. We can't lose it. | Opinion

In 1965, my parents immigrated to the United States from South Korea so my father could study architecture. They found a home in the bustling Los Angeles neighborhood we now know as Koreatown, and it was there that my siblings and I were born. Because of birthright citizenship, all three of us were recognized as U.S. citizens from the moment we entered the world.

This simple fact shaped the course of my life. As a U.S. citizen, I grew up with freedoms and opportunities that my parents never had. I grew up with a clear sense of belonging that no one could take away from me. 

But now, birthright citizenship is under attack.

On his first day back in office, President Donald Trump issued an executive order seeking to deny citizenship to certain U.S.-born children. On April 1, the Supreme Court heard oral arguments on the lawsuits challenging that order.

Their decision could upend the lives of families nationwide – and fundamentally redefine who counts as an American.  

Birthright citizenship shouldn't even be up for debate

It should be an open-and-shut case. Birthright citizenship is a constitutional right enshrined in the 14th Amendment. It’s as fundamental to the United States as the freedom of speech, and it applies to all children born on U.S. soil, regardless of where their parents come from or what their immigration status is.

The Supreme Court said as much in 1898, when it declared Wong Kim Ark, a San Francisco-born son of Chinese immigrant parents, a U.S. citizen. 

That decision changed the face of Asian America. After decades of exclusion and discrimination, the U.S.-born children of Chinese immigrants were offered a legal foothold in the only country they had ever known. 

Then, in 1965, the Immigration and Nationality Act lifted the racist quotas that shut out non-European immigration, and a second wave of Chinese, Indian and other Asian immigrants – including families like mine – flocked to the United States in search of a better life. 

They put down roots, started businesses, raised families and, over time, transformed the United States into the diverse, multicultural nation it is today.

Koreatown is a shining example of that. I grew up with friends and neighbors who could trace their roots all across the world. Some of us were newly arrived. Others had lived there for generations. But as a community, our presence, our families, our futures were made possible, in large part, by birthright citizenship.

Trump wants to dismantle more than birthright citizenship

Make no mistake: The birthright citizenship case before the Supreme Court is not some isolated policy debate. It’s part of a broader effort by the Trump administration to put an end to multiracial democracy as we know it, by making it harder for communities of color to live, work, study and build a life in the United States.

For more than a year, Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids have ravaged immigrant-rich cities like Los Angeles and Minneapolis and torn families apart. Federal actions targeting students and H-1B visa holders have spread fear and confusion on college and university campuses and in the workplace. And the resulting anti-immigrant sentiment has fueled a wave of hate acts targeting citizens and immigrants alike.

A survey conducted in January found that half of Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders have felt the impact of Trump’s anti-immigrant policies ‒ or know someone who has.  

There is far too much at stake. Should the Supreme Court allow Trump’s executive order to move forward, the consequences would be devastating for all of us. In the next two decades alone, an estimated 750,000 children born in the United States would be born without U.S. citizenship, denying them access to education, public benefits and the basic rights that come with belonging.

Asian and other immigrant communities would see their political power eroded. Denying the citizenship rights of any number of U.S.-born children would not just change the law. It would also unravel the longstanding American tradition of equal rights and opportunity for all. 

America is not defined by where our parents came from. It is defined by the principles that have allowed generations of families, like mine, to build a life here – principles like birthright citizenship. 

As our nation nears its 250th anniversary, this is a moment to defend the core legal pillars – like birthright citizenship – that define us. As a proud Korean American daughter of immigrants, I refuse to give it up without a fight, and my hope is that more of us can stand up for the rights and future we all share.

Cynthia Choi is the cofounder and codirector of Stop AAPI Hate.