Justice Was Not Served
Dy Nguyen is being deported to Viet Nam
Phi Nguyễn, supervising attorney at Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund, wrote today’s update on the continuing saga of Dy Nguyen, an Atlanta father torn from his family by the Trump administration’s mass deportation campaign. Partly because she has important insights to offer. Partly because I am at a loss for words. And finally because I am not ready to bother Tammy or Dy in the last days before Dy’s deportation.
This is Part 3 of Dy’s story. Read Part 1: Love in a Time of Absurdity and Part 2: A Family Waits. Also related: Refugee to Detainee: How the U.S. is Deporting Those Seeking a Safe Haven.
BY PHI NGUYEN
ATLANTA, May 29, 2026
On Tuesday, my client Dy learned he would be transferred out of state by Friday morning to be deported to Vietnam next week. This gave his loved ones not quite three days to say goodbye. Early Thursday morning, I drove the 150 miles south to Stewart Detention Center to see Dy one last time behind Plexiglas.
I met Dy in 2017 when ICE snatched him from his home and family under the first Trump administration. I distinctly remember his wife Tammy, then only five months into motherhood, calling me on the phone and imploring: “Chị, can you help?”
In what was one of my first lawsuits against the federal government, I fought for Dy’s release. And after six months of being locked up hundreds of miles from his family, Dy came home. Not long after, we celebrated his freedom over steaming bowls of pho. In the eight years since then, Dy and Tammy have grown their family from three to six, built enduring friendships, and poured themselves into their faith community. In one of my last text exchanges with Dy, he laughingly called his crew of kids both a bundle of joy and a mess to handle.
But last October, Tammy reached out with the news I’d been dreading since Trump’s re-election: ICE had re-detained Dy at his check-in and transferred him to Stewart Detention Center. In November, I sued ICE once more. But the court let the lawsuit idle for over six months, even as other courts across the country urgently ordered ICE to release hundreds of people in similar cases. All the while, Dy languished in an ICE prison, missing out on countless moments of his life, big and small. Most crushingly, he did not get to be by his wife’s side during her C-section or welcome his son to the world. And now he will be deported to Vietnam having still not met his newborn baby.
Yet, when I saw Dy yesterday, he still greeted me with a bright smile and named several things he’s looking forward to: most immediately, his freedom. Next, Vietnamese food – in Vietnam! Third, ringing in his fortieth birthday this summer not behind bars but in the company of a friend who was also recently deported. And finally – though the timeline for this is still uncertain – he cannot wait to reunite with his family.
Though my heart has been heavy since learning of Dy’s impending deportation, I am buoyed by Dy’s confidence – which I share – that he and his family will weather this upheaval with grace, grit, humor, and unflappable faith while wrapped in the care of the many, many people who love them. Based on how I’ve seen them navigate this grueling journey so far, I know that they will, in the end, bloom where they are planted.
I’m far less sure, though, that the U.S. will recover from its campaign to expel some of the best of us. Dy and Tammy deserved so much better from the country that took them in as refugees decades ago, touting promises of liberty and the pursuit of happiness. So do countless others.
Yesterday, while breathing in the stale air of a 3 x 3 visitation room and reeling from seeing the warden refuse to let a family that had also driven 2.5 hours from Atlanta say goodbye to Dy, I expressed anger at the cruelty of our immigration system. But Dy, even while facing down a 40-hour deportation flight where he will be shackled the entire length of the trip, did what he usually does. He extended grace. “I don’t hate our government or anyone,” he said. “I just wish the policy was better for people who want a second chance.”
One of the best ways you can support deportees to Viet Nam is to donate to The Ba Lô Project. They are a grassroots mutual aid project based in the U.S., “grown out of the desire to ensure that our deported siblings are not forgotten.” Ba Lô in Vietnamese means backpack. One of the things they provide to deportees is someone to meet them at the airport in Viet Nam with a backpack of essentials, and the help they need to get a Vietnamese ID and begin to navigate the challenges of starting life again from scratch. The Ba Lô Project has a fundraising campaign that you can donate to here.
Donated!!
So sorry to hear this! Thank you for sharing this update.