Arnoldo Bazan Speaks at Hearing: How Trump’s Immigration Agenda Endangers Children

My name is Aronlo Hassan. I'm here today to share the injustice done to me and my family. I am mourning my peace, safety, and youth because they, along with my father, were taken from me on October 23rd, 2025. On that morning, my father was driving me to school. We made a stop at McDonald's. We were celebrating because I had made the varsity team. A car with tinted windows, flashlights. When my father then pulled over, multiple unmarked cars approached. Armed men with masks jumped out and started banging on the windows. They never identified themselves or explained why we were stopped. We didn't know who these men were. I started recording on my phone. When my father started driving, one of the unmarked cars rammed into our car multiple times. I even felt our car lift. My dad stopped at a store and ran inside to seek help. Men grabbed my dad and started attacking him. As a son, I could just not sit there, so I ran inside screaming these men to get off my dad. Officers grabbed and ripped my shirt. One officer put me in a chokehold and stopped. The officer choking me told me, you're done, you're done. His grip was so tight, I wonder if I will even make it out alive. With all of my strength, I screamed that I was underage from the United States. When the officer finally stopped, I began telling everybody who could hear me that these officers had tried to flip our car and that I had proof on my phone. The same officer who choked me then took my phone. The officer put me and my dad in the car. They mocked us. They told me that I was gay for crying an illegal idiot, a border hopper, and other demeaning words. These officers even celebrated that they caught two people and their bonus will be good. After they took a picture of me, they tried being friendly, but when that didn't work, the same officer who put me in a chokehold threatened me. He told me that my dad will pay the consequences if I press charges. At one point, I asked for my phone and one officer told me not to worry about it. The officer drove me to my house where my father and I prayed one last time. I tried to hug him from heat, but he couldn't hug me back because I was handcuffed, because he was handcuffed. The officers gave my backpack, but I later learned that my phone was missing. My sister Maria, who is here with me today, took me to the children's hospital where I was sent to the trauma unit. I received morphine for my pain. When I finally recovered, I used the application Find My to locate my phone. Two miles from where my father was detained, my phone was inside a kiosk for people to sell electronics. Someone sold my phone. When I tried to share what happened to the local police, they told me that they couldn't, they can't do anything to federal officers. I later learned that my father was threatened. Unless he signed papers to self-deport, the government will send me to juvie and federal prison. So my father signed. I couldn't drink correctly for weeks. My body ached for days. I couldn't sleep. I missed school. All of this affects me to this day. When I go to school, I pray I come back home safely. Whenever I hear sirens or I see an officer, my heart starts racing. I don't even know when I'll see my father again. I'm sharing this story so it doesn't happen to other people. This is not the America I know.