“Know Your Rights” Push Will Distribute Over 30,000 Multilingual Flyers and Booklets to Faith Institutions Across the City
Today, at the first annual Interfaith Breakfast of his administration, Mayor Zohran Mamdani announced sweeping new actions to uphold New York City’s sanctuary city laws and protect immigrant New Yorkers. The breakfast brought together nearly 400 faith and community leaders from across the five boroughs.
During the event, Mayor Mamdani signed a comprehensive executive order to reaffirm the city’s commitment to being a sanctuary for all New Yorkers. The order protects the privacy and data of immigrants and all residents; bolsters restrictions on federal immigration enforcement on city property; initiates an audit to make sure city agencies are complying with sanctuary laws; and establishes a committee to coordinate crisis response across city government in the event of escalating federal immigration actions or other major events.
Mayor Mamdani also launched a citywide “Know Your Rights” push, distributing nearly 32,000 flyers and booklets in 10 languages for faith leaders to share with their congregations. The materials provide clear, accessible information about New Yorkers’ rights during interactions with federal immigration authorities, including the right to remain silent, the right to speak to an attorney, and the right to a translator.
View Mayor Mamdani’s full address HERE.
“Across this country, day after day, we bear witness to cruelty that staggers the conscience. Masked agents, paid by our own tax dollars, violate the Constitution and visit terror upon our neighbors,” said Mayor Mamdani. “That is why this morning, I am signing an executive order that will strengthen our city’s protection of our fellow New Yorkers from abusive immigration enforcement. This order is a sweeping reaffirmation of our commitment to our immigrant neighbors. We have also prepared 30,000 guides to New Yorkers’ rights in ten languages spoken by some of the most heavily targeted populations in our city, teaching our neighbors what to do if ICE comes for them. These guides are here today, ready for you to take. If you run out, we will print more. I urge you to share these with your congregants — even those who are citizens, even those whom you think ICE may not target. These materials apply to us all: those who have been here for five generations, those who arrived last year. They apply to us all because the obligation is upon us all. To love thy neighbor, to look out for the stranger.”
Executive Order 13 takes critical steps to keep not only immigrant New Yorkers but all New Yorkers safe from aggressive, unlawful, and xenophobic federal actions as well as deepen trust between New Yorkers and their city government.
Executive Order 13 reaffirms that information collected by city agencies for city purposes must remain protected and cannot be shared with federal immigration authorities, except as required by law. Under the order, each agency has 14 days to appoint a privacy officer, conduct training, and certify compliance with sanctuary protections limiting information sharing.
Executive Order 13 also makes clear that city property — including parking garages, parking lots, schools, shelters, hospitals, and other public spaces — is for city purposes only. Federal authorities may not enter city property without a judicial warrant. The order also directs core agencies to develop and distribute training for city employees on how to interact with federal immigration authorities.
Moreover, Executive Order 13 requires agencies — including the NYPD, New York City Department of Correction (DOC), New York City Department of Probation (DOP), Administration for Children’s Services (ACS), and Department of Social Services (DSS) — to conduct comprehensive audits of all internal policies governing interactions with federal immigration authorities, update protocols and guidance as needed, and provide public transparency into any new policies that are created as a result.
Finally, Executive Order 13 establishes an Interagency Response Committee to coordinate crisis policy across city agencies and ensure a whole-of-government response.
As part of the new “Know Your Rights” push, the city is distributing nearly 32,000 flyers and booklets to faith institutions across New York City. The materials are available in English, Spanish, Mandarin, French, Bangla, Russian, Arabic, Kreyole, Urdu, and Yiddish – languages spoken by those most targeted by federal immigration crackdowns.
The materials outline key rights and options during encounters with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), including the right to remain silent, the right to ask for a judicial warrant, the right to speak with an attorney and the right to request an interpreter. They also explain New York City’s sanctuary laws and provide information about the Mayor’s Office of Immigrant Affairs (MOIA) Legal Support Hotline.
The hotline, available Monday through Friday from 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. at 1-800-354-0365, offers free information and referrals to immigration legal assistance. During his remarks, Mayor Mamdani called on faith leaders to help ensure this information reaches every corner of the city by distributing the flyers to their congregations.
Below are Mayor Mamdani’s remarks as prepared for delivery:
Good morning. What a privilege it is to be here with you all. I join everyone present in sending our best wishes to Rabbi Schneier, and our hopes for a quick recovery.
And I know that many of us are shocked by the news that we’ve just heard from Pakistan, where dozens of people were killed in a horrific attack on a Shia Mosque. Innaa lillaahi wa innaa ilaihi raajioon.
I look around this room, and I see the faces of friends I have marched with through searing heat and bracing cold. People I have mourned alongside, celebrated alongside, organized alongside. And I see so many others I have only just met, but whom I am eager to work alongside to improve New York.
And I see those whom the people of this city turn to for guidance and grace. This city may have only one Mayor, but it has countless leaders. When our neighbors seek to make sense of a world where sense is not there to be found, they often turn first not to those they elected, but to you.
Thank you for welcoming me today — and for all that you do, in ways seen and unseen, for those you serve.
I was raised in New York City as a Muslim kid with a Hindu mother. I celebrated Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha with my family, lit diyas in Riverside Park for Diwali, and like any New Yorker, encountered faiths different from my own. I still remember coming home from a friend’s Bar Mitzvah one night and demanding an explanation from my father. “Baba,” I asked, “Why don’t Muslim kids have Bar Mitzvahs too?”
And over the past fifteen months, as I ran to become Mayor of our incredible city, that encounter only deepened as I came face-to-face with the living tapestry of faith that is New York.
Faith, we’re told, is the belief in things unseen. And while it certainly took faith to imagine a thing truly unseen—a path to victory—it was nothing compared to the faith I saw New Yorkers summon just to make it through the day. Faith that the bus would arrive. Faith that somehow, some way, the rent would get paid. Faith that a leader would place the concerns of the many before the interests of the few.
I saw that faith everywhere. On subways and street corners, at forums and front doors. And increasingly, as the winter snow melted into the renewal of spring and then the heat of summer, I found it where many New Yorkers return, week after week, in search of meaning.
You welcomed a stranger into your sanctuaries. And whether we were together at Shul, at church services on Saturday or Sunday morning, at a Gurdwara or a mosque or a mandir or a temple, New Yorkers told me of the worries they hold close, the dreams they refuse to let go.
What a gift they gave me. Not just understanding New York better — but understanding how close we truly are.
Because for all our different faiths, we share a common belief: that our city can be restored, and it must. That the wealthiest city in the wealthiest country in the history of the world has enough for everyone to live a life of dignity. That we need not worship the same God to share the same values, or to fight for the same future.
If anything unifies every religion across our city, it is an understanding of faith not solely as a tool for reflection, but as a call to action.
Standing before you today, I think of Deuteronomy 10:17-18, which describes the lord as one who: “shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. He defends the cause of the orphan and the widow, and loves the stranger residing among you, giving them food and clothing.”
Over the past fifteen months, New Yorkers of all faiths built a movement inspired by that cause of the orphan, the widow, and the stranger.
Seniors spent hours making phone calls to strangers because they believed every kid deserves child care. If that is not defending the cause of the orphan, what is?
Neighbors climbed six-floor walkups to knock doors because they believed a single mother in a rent-stabilized apartment should be able to sleep easily on the last night of the month, knowing that her rent would not climb the next day. If that is not defending the cause of the widow, what is?
And today, my friends, I want to reflect on the third charge: loving the stranger.
Across this country, day after day, we bear witness to cruelty that staggers the conscience. Masked agents, paid by our own tax dollars, violate the Constitution and visit terror upon our neighbors. They arrive as if atop a pale horse, and they leave a path of wreckage in their wake. People ripped from their cars. Guns drawn against the unarmed. Families torn apart. Lives shattered—quietly, swiftly, brutally.
If these are not attacks upon the stranger among us, what is?
This cruelty is no faraway concept. ICE operates here in New York. In our courthouses. Our workplaces. They skulk at 26 Federal Plaza—the same building where I waited in fear as my father had his citizenship interview.
If these are not attacks upon the stranger among us, what is?
ICE is more than a rogue agency — it is a manifestation of the abuse of power. And it is also new. It was founded only in 2002. Four Mayors ago, it did not exist. Its wrongs need not be treated as inevitable or inherited. In fact, there is no reforming something so rotten and base.
I think of a story that Reverend Galbreath — the senior pastor at Clarendon Road Church — shared recently. Two Haitian immigrants in his congregation, a father and son, had traveled to 26 Federal Plaza for fingerprinting. The man’s wife, the boy’s mother, had gone the week before without incident. They thought little of the trip. It was routine. In New York, surely one would be safe at an appointment like this.
And then, without explanation or warning, they were whisked away. ICE took them first to the Brooklyn Detention Center. The next day, they were flown to Louisiana. They felt hopeless and helpless, Reverend Galbreath said. Hopeless and helpless.
If these are not attacks upon the stranger among us, what is?
As the federal government attacks our neighbors — those who worship in the next pew over — they command us not to believe what we see. They compel us, as George Orwell wrote nearly eighty years ago, “to reject the evidence of our eyes and ears.” And they would succeed, were it not for the many among us who have not only read the scripture, but who live the scripture—those who refuse to abandon the stranger.
I speak of Renee Good, whose final words to the man who murdered her moments later were: “I’m not mad at you.”
I speak of Alex Pretti, who died as he lived, caring for the stranger. Here was a man who held the hand of the afraid and the afflicted in their final moments. Here was a man who dedicated his life to healing those he had never met. ICE shot him ten times because he did something they could never fathom doing themselves: he extended his arm towards a stranger—not to push her down, but to help her up.
I speak of the tens of thousands across our city and nation who took to snowbound streets in the dead of winter, refusing to allow those with the most power to impose their will upon those with the least.
If that is not love for the stranger among us, what is?
In a moment such as this, I look to the Bhagavad Gita, which teaches us that the highest calling is to become someone “who sees the true equality of all living beings and responds to the joys and sorrows of others as if they were their own.”
Each of us has been a stranger at one point in our lives. Each of us has known the feeling of arriving somewhere new alone, of depending on the kindness of someone else. As ICE fosters a culture of suspicion and fear, let this city of strangers set an example for how to make the sorrows of others our own. Let us offer a new path — one of defiance through compassion.
In so doing, we can offer something more expansive and durable than a mere rejection of atrocity. We can rely on our faith to offer an embrace of one another. After all, few forces hold as much power to extend humanity to all. As Dr. King once said: “The church is the one place where a doctor ought to forget that he's a doctor. The church is the one place where the lawyer ought to forget that he's a lawyer. When the church is true to its nature, it says, "Whosoever will, let him come."
That doctrine—whosoever will, let him come — is not limited to Christianity. Each of our faiths asks the same of us.
I think of Exodus 23:9, the words of the Torah: "Thou shalt not oppress a stranger: for ye know the heart of a stranger, seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt." Few have stood so steadfast alongside the persecuted as Jewish New Yorkers. I think of Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman, who gave their lives alongside James Chaney so that all could exercise the right to the franchise. I think of Rabbi Heschel and marched from Selma alongside Dr. King. And I think of Yip Harburg, born on the Lower East Side, who wrote ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ and uplifted Americans waiting on breadlines during the Great Depression.
I think of the freedom from suffering that Buddhism teaches us is only possible if we remove the three poisons of desire, hatred, and ignorance from our daily lives. We need not accept suffering as unchangeable. We need not treat hatred as the natural state. We have the power to set ourselves free.
And I consider my own faith, Islam, a religion built upon a narrative of migration. The story of the Hijra reminds us that Prophet Muhammad (SWT) was a stranger too, who fled Mecca and was welcomed in Medina. Sura An-Nahl 16:42 tells us: “As for those who emigrated in the cause of Allah after being persecuted, we will surely bless them with a good home in this world.”
Or, as the Prophet Muhammad (SWT) said: “Islam began as something strange and will go back to being strange, so glad tidings to the strangers.”
If faith offers us the moral compass to stand alongside the stranger, government can provide the resources. Let us create a new expectation of City Hall, where power is wielded to love, to embrace, to protect. We will stand with the stranger today, tomorrow, and all the days that are still to come.
That is why this morning, I am signing an executive order that will uphold our city’s protection not just of our fellow immigrant New Yorkers — but of all New Yorkers — from abusive immigration enforcement.
This order is a sweeping reaffirmation of our commitment to our immigrant neighbors and to public safety as a whole. We will make clear that ICE will not be able to enter New York City property without a judicial warrant. That means our schools, our shelters, our hospitals, our parking lots.
We will protect New Yorkers’ private data from being unlawfully accessed by the federal government and stand firmly against any effort to intrude on our privacy. No New Yorker should be afraid to apply for city services like child care because they are an immigrant.
This order will mandate that essential city agencies are complying with city laws and conduct thorough audits of all policies guiding agency interactions with immigration authorities.
And it will establish an Interagency Response Committee, so that in the event of a major crisis, we are ready and equipped to do the job of protecting New Yorkers. We will create a centralized mechanism for coordinating policy across agencies, so that government speaks with one voice in times of need.
City Hall will not look away.
But we need our faith leaders with us. Your moral clarity, your integrity — they are the pillars upon which countless movements for justice have been built. Many of you have long practiced the tradition of supporting the forgotten and the downtrodden. When our immigrant neighbors are in trouble, they often turn first to their faith networks — for counsel, for legal aid, for someone to accompany them to court.
Today, I call upon you to help us give language to courage. Help us remind New Yorkers that they are not alone.
We have prepared 30,000 guides to New Yorkers’ rights, in ten languages spoken by some of the most heavily targeted populations in our city, teaching our neighbors what to do if ICE comes for them. These guides are here today, ready for you to take. If you run out, we will print more.
I urge you to share these with your congregants — even those who are citizens, even those whom you think ICE may not target. These materials apply to us all: those who have been here for five generations, those who arrived last year. They apply to us all because the obligation is upon us all. To love thy neighbor, to look out for the stranger.
If we are truly to champion the cause of the stranger, let these materials serve as instructions for how to stand in solidarity. If anything can turn back the rising tide of hatred, it is a chorus of those who worship differently and live differently, singing the same undaunted song.
For we are all New Yorkers. And yet that has not always been accepted.
My friends — for as long as people have called New York home, a question has been contested: who is a New Yorker? At each juncture, many have sought to narrow the answer. The stranger has been ostracized on job postings, on placards denying entry to restaurants and shops, in neighborhoods where only some New Yorkers were allowed to live. Every conceivable crack has been exploited into a chasm of division.
On every occasion where the forces of darkness have raised the question, “Who is a New Yorker?” The people of this city have offered our own answer. All of us.
And yet we know that that answer is not permanent, nor is it predetermined. Each generation must assert what we know to be true, because New York serves as living proof—we are stronger when we welcome the stranger.
This will not be an easy contest. Those on the other side, the ICE agents of the world, hold power and weaponry and a sense of impunity. And yet, we hold one advantage over them, one advantage that no matter how hard they try, they cannot overcome, as they mask their faces to attack and murder: we are not ashamed of our answer.
So let us answer the question — who is a New Yorker? — once more, with conviction, and without shame. It is all of us.
So together, New York, let us advance the cause of the orphan.
Together, New York, let us advance the cause of the widow.
Together, New York, let us love the stranger among us, because we are them, and they are us.
