The Democratic National Committee on Thursday filed a lawsuit alleging that President Trump’s administration secretly changed a postcard used by U.S. citizens overseas in a way that makes it harder to register to vote.
The lawsuit contends that the Department of Defense made the change by declaring an emergency, which allowed it to eliminate a specific box on the form. That box is typically checked by potential voters who acknowledge they are U.S. citizens but who have never lived in the United States.
They are usually the children of U.S. citizens, and 38 states allow them to cast ballots provided they have close family connections. Since 2013, the box has appeared on postcards sent to overseas voters.
Republicans have filed lawsuits in multiple states trying to prevent those voters, who typically support Democrats, from casting ballots. Thursday’s lawsuit contends that the administration simply made the change on its own without giving proper notice.
“These American citizens pay U.S. federal and state taxes, but now a years-old plan has culminated in a manufactured ‘emergency’ to justify impeding their right to vote in American elections and potentially disenfranchising them entirely,” the lawsuit states.
The Department of Defense, which administers the form, did not immediately respond to a request for comment.
The number of Americans overseas who have never lived in the United States yet cast ballots in the country was estimated at about 11,500 in 2016. The lawsuit contends the number has likely grown.
Some are already registered and are due to receive ballots for November. Others can opt to check other boxes saying they’re citizens who either intend to return to the U.S. or do not intend to return in order to receive ballots.
The move follows Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth urging members of the military to cast ballots en masse, implying they could out-vote Democratic jurisdictions, such as Detroit, if they all cast ballots. The same federal law that lets members of the military who live overseas cast ballots also requires that civilians who live overseas be given the same opportunity.
But as Democratic-leaning civilians overseas have out-voted Republican-leaning members of the military in recent years, the GOP hasstarted to target the law, known as the Uniformed and Overseas Citizens Absentee Voting Act, or UOCAVA. Republicans were able to win a court case forbidding the votes of overseas citizens who have never lived in North Carolina from being counted there, but have not yet succeeded in lawsuits in other states, including swing state Michigan.
Susan Dzieduszycka-Suinat is a U.S. citizen in Munich whose 28-year-old daughter also is a U.S. citizen who has never resided in the country but votes regularly. She said the administration’s move was alarming.
“If this works in slicing off a piece of the electorate,” said Dzieduszycka-Suinat, who is president of the U.S. Vote Foundation, “wait until the next emergency.”
Riccardi writes for the Associated Press. AP writer Konstantin Toropin in Washington contributed to this report.
“The Pineapple” promised to be intense, but even hours before the show had begun, it had me startled.
I was warned, via a waiver attendees must sign to experience the production, to expect “intimate, and/or aggressive physical contact,” “confined spaces and passageways,” and that I may be asked to crawl, kneel or lie down. All of it would happen in a show that I was cautioned would present simulated violence or “disturbing imagery.”
As much as I love participatory, immersive theater — productions that often rely on some form of audience participation — “The Pineapple” was providing me with a checklist of things I generally avoid. It was a feeling that only grew when I reached the waiver’s end, and signed off that I was OK with claustrophobia (I am not).
What had I done?
None of it, though, had fully prepared me for what Candle House’s “The Pineapple” actually was. By the time the hourlong experience in North Hollywood had reached its conclusion, I had been straddled by a woman who forced a gloved finger down my throat, outfitted with hooded, vision-impairing face masks, grabbed by the wrists as they were taped together, ordered to crawl toward a blood-stained room, and spooned or kissed by multiple male performers.
“The Pineapple” is a secretive hourlong show that seeks to disorient attendees.
(Sona Earnest)
“The Pineapple” is a buzzed-about show among the tight-knit immersive community, one that fits into the medium’s long tradition of productions designed for a sole audience member. A short run last year in New Jersey sold out. Candle House has such a devoted following that its L.A. shows have been selling out almost as instantly as they are announced. While it’s thus far been shrouded in secrecy — “The Pineapple” will not even release a program or cast list until its run has concluded — it comes highly recommended from acquaintances who saw it on the East Coast. I was alternately excited and apprehensive to take part, and my editor would like me to note that I pitched this story on my own accord.
“The Pineapple” in its limited online description promises an alien encounter. Sign up, and an email will tell you that it will “change your life.”
For the passionate crowd of immersive enthusiasts who may want to experience “The Pineapple” and are worried I just spoiled the show, I call nonsense. For one, I believe audiences should know exactly what they are paying for, and two, I do not think “The Pineapple” can be properly spoiled. It was at times otherworldly, in moments psychedelic, and while there were scenes in which I felt fear, there were also others in which I laughed. While “The Pineapple” flirts with horror, torture and conspiracy nuts, it also provides space for Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville.”
And in “The Pineapple’s” best instances, it created a sense of personal intimacy with its performers. These were actors who may have earlier been needling at or attempting to push my boundaries. “The Pineapple” wants to toy with our trust, to create a safe space where it can intermix themes of abuse and empathy until their lines are blurred. Consider its waiver, then, not just a warning but an attempt to weed out those who may be offended or triggered.
“The Pineapple” tries to break us. And it charges nearly $250 for the privilege.
“How do I put this,” says the show’s core creator/director Evan Neiden when asked his intentions behind “The Pineapple.” “I think the show is designed to boil you. Like the lobster in the pot. It gets warmer and warmer and warmer and it’s slowly acclimating you to this new set of rules that keep changing to this new environment of degeneracy and conspiracy.”
“The Pineapple” teases an alien encounter. It is theatrical production designed for one guest.
(Sona Earnest)
Neiden, the 27 year-old founder of Candle House, has long specialized in one-on-one phone productions designed to be done from the caller’s home. While drastically different in narrative content, his horror show “Claws,” in which its solo guest acts as an emergency line operator, is good prep for “The Pineapple” as it also seeks to push people to the brink of comfort.
If there is an artistic thesis behind the work of the New York-based Candle House, it is to cast its audience as performers, but then poke, prod and disorient until they stop performing and start reacting on instinct — or, in theory, become unguarded. It’s an idea that simply to get through the day we are playing a role of sorts, tuning our conversations to please others, or presenting exaggerated, false or tidied-up versions of ourselves on social media.
“In an experience like this, you’re alone with the inhabitants of the world, and they’re all there as part of your hallucination, your dream and your journey,” Neiden says. “You don’t need to worry about presenting a certain way or being perceived in a certain way. All the characters in ‘The Pineapple’ are degenerates, and this show invites you to become one as well. That’s very hard to do if someone from the respectable, outside world is watching.”
The setup for “The Pineapple” is simple. I was playing a respondent to an ad for a meeting with an alien. But things quickly spiral beyond clear narrative recognition, as piecing together the story becomes a puzzle unto itself. And it will shift depending on how one reacts, as there are multiple endings. But know only that in its opening minutes we learn that we have been swindled and are now part of a ritual of sorts to summon said alien.
“The Pineapple” offers intimate actor interactions designed to push boundaries.
(Sona Earnest)
You may find yourself, as I did, raising your voice, as “The Pineapple” did light research on me. My career was insulted, and I was mocked for fumbling around while attempting to juice a pineapple with a woefully inadequate kitchen utensil. Neiden says many attendees try to break the show itself, to push back and see how far its narrative can bend. This is typically not how I play, wanting to experience a production as its designers have intended and thus I let “The Pineapple” take the lead rather than trying to force my will upon it.
I am not easily offended and never used the safe word provided, although there were instances where I came close, namely when my feet were being aggressively, unwelcomely massaged. And yet there were scenes in which I thought about deeply personal relationships I have had, specifically when a character asked me to think of a time when forgiveness or an apology was craved from someone I am no longer closely connected with.
“The Pineapple” then began to feel like a metaphor. As I moved from darkened room to darkened room, ridiculed in one, flirted with in another, a thread of finding one’s own personal paradise in a hellscape began to emerge. Is it aliens we are seeking, “The Pineapple” begins to ask, or simply perhaps purpose? The act of forgiveness, Neiden tells me, was on his mind when crafting the show.
“I never really felt like I fully understand it,” Neiden says. “What is forgiveness? Some people say it’s letting someone off the hook. Others say it’s releasing yourself of the burden of a grudge. And it’s a word wrapped in religion and politics. There are so many definitions of it, and we hear it everywhere — forgiveness and its counterparts of guilt, shame and accountability. What does it mean? The show doesn’t answer that.”
Maybe. That’s up to the audience, not its creator.
Days after I’ve seen “The Pineapple,” friends and peers keep asking if I enjoyed it, and I don’t think it’s a simple answer. It’s not for everyone. I’m not sure it’s even for me. Simulated torture is not my idea of a good time. But “The Pineapple” did wear me down, and it’s beautiful in the way it highlights the lonely anguish at the heart of Buffett’s “Margaritaville.”
As its small cast obsesses over a fabled alien encounter and seems willing to stop at nothing to find release in a divine being, be careful, “The Pineapple” argues, of the personal Eden you seek.
At least that was my takeaway. You might walk away with an entirely different message.
“Maybe you just fell in with the wrong crowd and got abducted by aliens,” Neiden says.
An unprecedented surge in border crossings over the last decade reshaped America: Millions of people from more than 150 countries arrived, bringing the U.S. immigrant population to its highest levels.
Now, data obtained exclusively by the Associated Press paint a picture of who these migrants are, where they went and what happened after the border.
Some went to cities that have long been magnets for immigrants — New York, Miami — but increasingly, others found their way to smaller cities with less developed immigrant footholds. Blocks, neighborhoods and entire cities were remade in places like Elkhart, Ind., Knoxville, Tenn.,and Dodge City, Kan.
And while the vast majority of migrants traditionally were from Mexico, this surge included people from an astonishing number and diversity of countries: India, Ecuador, Ghana.
Via a Freedom of Information Act request, AP obtained federal records on the self-reported destinations of 4.5 million migrants released in the United States after crossing the Mexican border — both legally and illegally — between October 2018 and July 2025.
Migrants must provide U.S. Customs and Border Protection with a street address. AP obtained their destination ZIP codes, citizenship by country, ages, genders and the dates and border regions where they encountered authorities.
Some probably never arrived at the addresses they gave. Authorities lacked resources to check, though migrants must report truthfully to pursue their cases in court and get work permits. Some have moved elsewhere in the United States or left the country, voluntarily or involuntarily. But many have stayed put.
Data on their initial destinations after the southern border provides both a sweeping and an unusually granular look at how the immigration surge — one that peaked during President Biden’s administration and was a major reason voters returned his predecessor, Donald Trump, to the White House — is playing out today.
Here are some key takeaways from the data.
Cities drew migrants from several continents
The Border Patrol encountered migrants from 174 countries in one year alone, a sharp departure from earlier periods when they were nearly all Mexican and Central American. The growth of social media and new migration routes were key in bringing people from around the world. Cincinnati, for example, experienced a large number of arrivals from West Africa, Uzbekistan and India.
Some cities — ones that for generations have had robust international communities — were further diversified by the range of countries from which people arrived.
New York City’s Queens borough registered at least 25 nationalities with significant arrivals, including five countries that each sent more than 7,000 people: Ecuador, China, Colombia, Venezuela and India.
Philadelphia had 11 nationalities with at least 1,000 new arrivals, led by Brazil, Haiti and the Dominican Republic but also including Russia and Venezuela. The city’s metro area also received more than 1,000 migrants from Georgia.
Florida remained No. 1, but many people looked elsewhere
While Florida was the most popular state, Latin American immigrants increasingly looked elsewhere for more promising job prospects and a better quality of life. Many turned to places with small but established communities of immigrants from their homelands.
For Cubans, nine of the top 10 destination ZIP codes were in Florida, but people of the Caribbean nation also flocked to Louisville, Ky., Grand Island, Neb., and Odessa, Texas. Colombians went to the Denver suburb of Aurora. Paterson, N.J., was the top pick among Peruvians. Some Venezuelans headed to the growing suburbs south of Salt Lake City; others to pockets of Atlanta, Chicago and Denver.
More women and children came than men
Nearly 6 of every 10 migrants released at the border were women and children, a dramatic shift from a few years earlier when migrants were predominantly men.
The change is visible in many places and across nationalities, but some stand out. Tulsa, Okla., attracted Mexican women and children. Ecuadorian women and children went to Spring Valley, N.Y. Guatemalan women were drawn to Chattanooga, Tenn.
Those who came from China headed to L.A. and New York
Chinese migrants, who trekked by hundreds nightly in California’s mountainous border with Mexico, largely gravitated to two places: New York City, especially the Queens and Brooklyn boroughs, and a cluster of neighborhoods in the Los Angeles area.
Trump’s deportation machine hit some migrant magnets and overlooked others
Immigration arrests have hit some areas that ranked among the most popular destinations for migrants in recent years, including Miami and New York. Others that experienced a large migrant influx have gotten less attention from authorities, including Silicon Valley, Madison, Wis, and Stamford, Conn.
Jarrett, Kessler, Lodhi and Spagat write for the Associated Press.
California and other Democratic-led states and localities filed a pair of lawsuits Monday challenging new Trump administration rules giving immigration officials more power to deny green cards to applicants whose families have relied on public assistance programs in the past.
California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta, whose office is helping lead the states’ challenge, said the rule changes seek to “rewrite more than 100 years of law” by making even brief use of public benefits in years past grounds for the federal government to deny a person’s application for legal permanent residency in the future — which he said was clearly illegal and would push tremendous costs onto states, counties and cities.
“No family should have to choose between accessing healthcare and nutrition assistance today — or protecting their pathway to a green card tomorrow,” Bonta said. “We’re going to court on behalf of the millions of immigrants who call this state home — and we will fight to get this unlawful rule undone.”
San Francisco City Atty. David Chiu, whose office is helping lead a separate challenge from Democratic-led cities and counties, said in a statement that the new Trump administration policies are “a blatant attempt to sow fear and confusion in our immigrant communities and coerce people into withdrawing from critical government services” — which he also said would shift millions in costs to local governments.
A spokesperson for the Department of Homeland Security, which promulgated the new rules, said the lawsuits were proof that immigrants are unlawfully tapping into benefits programs intended for U.S. citizens.
“Sanctuary states are terrified they will lose federal funds because hundreds of thousands of illegals and noncitizens might remove themselves from American welfare programs,” the spokesperson said. “This is the ideological contortion required by left-wing leaders to justify their defrauding of the American taxpayer at the hands of illegal criminals.”
The White House did not respond to a request for comment.
President Trump won office on a promise to rein in illegal immigration. Since taking office, his administration has launched a mass crackdown that has targeted both undocumented and documented immigrants. It has done so in part by targeting federal and state programs that offer immigrant assistance — which Trump has derided as diverting resources away from U.S. citizens.
In their lawsuit, the states acknowledge that federal law enacted by Congress in 1882 allows the U.S. to deny noncitizens entry to the country if they would be a “public charge,” or someone who is unable to support themselves and must rely on the government for assistance.
However, the states argue that Congress, the courts and federal government agencies have for “over 140 years” understood the term “public charge” to mean a person “who has become, or is likely to become, primarily dependent on the government for long-term subsistence” — not someone who has ever taken public assistance of any kind in the past, even in the short term.
And yet, the new policy promulgated by Homeland Security and U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services gives immigration officers “unprecedented, sweeping new discretion to deny admission” to families that have tapped any number of public assistance programs for which both Congress and individual states have chosen to make them eligible, the states wrote.
The lawsuit, joined by Bonta, the attorneys general of 19 other states and the District of Columbia, and the governor of Pennsylvania, was filed in federal court in New York.
A separate lawsuit was filed in the same court by San Francisco and Santa Clara County in California, as well as New York City, Chicago, and Seattle and surrounding King County, Wash.
In a morning news conference, Bonta said the Trump administration’s new rules target families in unprecedented ways.
As one example, he said the new rules would potentially allow immigration officials to deny permanent residency to immigrant parents based on their U.S. citizen children accessing public benefits that they are clearly entitled to under the law.
As another, he said the new rules could penalize immigrant families for accessing basic, preventative healthcare that actually helps control the broader public cost of illness to localities and states.
Chiu said federal limits on residency for those who would be a “public charge” have in the past been applied in a “narrow and consistent way,” focusing on certain cash assistance and long-term medical needs. The new rules, he said, make “almost any” kind of government assistance grounds for residency denial.
The states’ lawsuit — California’s 92nd against the current Trump administration — revises a policy battle that began during Trump’s first administration, when it attempted in 2019 to implement similar policies, was sued by California, San Francisco and Santa Clara County, and lost.
The Biden administration later dropped the plans to change the rules.
Tony LoPresti, county counsel for Santa Clara County — which has per capita one of the largest foreign-born populations in the country — said that it was “déjà vu all over again.” and that the Trump administration will lose again because the new “public charge” policy is “outright illegal.”
It “bullies our community members into dropping health insurance, bypassing food assistance and turning their back on critical services out of fear” and constitutes “a wealth test for residents who are lawfully seeking status,” LoPresti said.
