I love juries. Juries constitute a microcosm of what democracy can be at its best. The jury members, diverse in race, gender, ethnicity, and profession, and perspective, come together to decide matters of material importance. Under the law, they must listen to the viewpoints of others, but exercise their own individual judgment with a view toward reaching agreement. We require the jurors to do their best to set aside any stereotypes or biases for or biases against the respective parties or their witnesses. Every day, our fellow citizens assume these constitutional powers that are reserved to them and responsibly discharge their duties in the pursuit of justice. Facts are what matter. Every day, our fellow citizens who serve on juries make me proud to be American. Jurors are tangible evidence that the American Dream is alive and well—at least in my corner of the world.

The American Dream, as envisioned by the writer and historian James Truslow Adams, “is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognized by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position.” As the words of the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution—as amended—foretold it is here where all people have the right to be treated as equals and realize their potential no matter the circumstances of their birth.

This desire for equal treatment is not unique to any group, but I have nagging concerns about the standing of citizens from immigrant communities, whether they came by choice or coercion, despite irrefutable contributions and sacrifices they have made and lives given for the good of our country. Even where our ancestors were born in the United States decades or centuries ago, we are prone to be labeled consciously or subconsciously as outsiders. Not American.

Just a few weeks ago, in San Diego, my three very American cousins and I entered a souvenir store that was getting ready for Cinco de Mayo. We were greeted with a “Ni Hao” and when we failed to respond, we heard the speaker say “maybe some other language?” I replied: “well, we say hello!” and we moved on. This was a relatively benign incident in the universe of racial profiling. Yet, it is disconcerting that people who mistakenly assume that we were part of an overseas tour group (and not fellow Americans who comprehend English) also feel entitled to act based on that erroneous assumption. I have had similar encounters with all sorts of people, such as progressive NPR listeners at a book signing for late great Daniel Schorr and a not-as-progressive legislator taking public testimony on a proposed bill. They may act courteously, but what they are saying is you are not like me. Not equal.

These occasions ought to be forgettable, even when well-intentioned, blunders. Perhaps next time an ICE agent makes a similar mistake, but arrests me because I do not look the part of a U.S. citizen to him, a foreign national without papers who happens to be fluent in English. This is no joke. According to the research of Jackie Stevens, Ph.D., of Northwestern University, it is estimated that at least 20,000 U.S. citizens were mistakenly detained or deported by the United States between 2003 and 2010.

Close to home, Nydia Han, the 6ABC news anchor, had a confrontation about a pedestrian's right of way with a driver at an intersection. The driver left the scene exclaiming “This is America.” The driver's intent was clear. She was asserting that America is one that was her America, not one that belonged to Americans that looked like Ms. Han. Like me. That night Ms. Han released a video in which she set the driver straight and spoke out to the world: “Do not ever, ever see a face like this and make a mistake that it does not belong to an American!” Ms. Han's #ThisIsAmerica video went viral, as it resonated with so many people across the country who have been mistreated, misjudged or excluded because of how they look or what they believe or the attire they are wearing.

Whatever the gravity of the offense, no one has the right to treat another person like a second-class citizen, as Reggie Shuford of the ACLU reminded us at “#ThisisAmerica: a Conversation on Race in America,” hosted by PDLG member, Blank Rome. The rights and privileges of U.S. citizenship are not reserved to a privileged few, but extend to anyone who attains citizenship. We citizens are all equals under the law.

Moreover, as citizens, we need to recognize that noncitizens are also entitled to protections under the U.S. Constitution. Everyone who is here should be entitled to respect and protection in their lives, personhood, freedom and property. If we have a society where anyone can be detained on the street on the suspicion of being a noncitizen, the protections and freedoms we have as citizens will become inert and vanish along with our free society where we do not need papers to travel freely.

Many Americans have died, suffered or made sacrifices for the promise that all have the right to participate as equal citizens in our democracy where people are bound together by the Constitution—as amended—and the rule of law, and not by race or creed or a certain brand of religion or the way we look. Make no mistake that this face, like yours, belongs to an American.  In making decisions or taking actions, we should try to emulate our jurors and follow the facts, putting aside assumptions or biases, especially when it comes to matters of material importance.

Judge Stella M. Tsai was appointed to the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas in 2016 then elected to the bench in her own right in November 2017. Before joining the bench, Tsai was a business litigation partner in the Philadelphia office of Archer & Greiner concentrating in regulatory compliance, land use and ethics.