America’s CHILDREN Act of 2023

Madam President, less than a mile from where we are right now--just a 15-minute walk away--are two curving, blue-gray limestone walls about 304 feet long. They curve their way through the center of Judiciary Square, under the shadow of neatly organized trees, adjacent to the National Law Enforcement Museum. Built and dedicated in 1991, these walls were inscribed with nearly 12,000 names at the time they were built.

Each year since then, more names have been added. In fact, just this weekend, families, loved ones--Americans of all backgrounds, Americans of all beliefs, a tapestry of our humanity--gathered under the night sky for a candlelight vigil; and very solemnly, additional names were read aloud and inscribed into that limestone, adding, once again, to the total.

These are hallowed names, engraved into those walls and etched forever into our Nation's memory. These are names that belong to our fallen heroes. The names are of brave, loyal, patriotic law enforcement officers--our great citizens--who answered the call, who sacrificed for their communities.

No greater love hath a man than this, than to give his life for his friends, for his Nation.

These were men and women who knew, every day when they suited up, that they could face danger, potentially even the ultimate call. They are the names of police officers who had tragedy visited upon them and their families and their loved ones. They are also police officers who took their own lives. They are the names of officers who fell to COVID--officers who, in the midst of the pandemic and when we were sheltering in place, were out doing their duty.

Each one of these names is a son. Each one of these people is a daughter. They are husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, friends and colleagues. They are parents who have perished. In short, they are the names of public servants--of men and women--who made the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty.

It pains me to say that I am familiar with some of these names listed on the walls. I am familiar from my time as mayor when I oversaw a city, including a mighty police department. I remember vividly those times when I would receive that call that one of our officers had been injured in the line of duty or had been shot or, in two cases, when they were tragically killed. I remember those phone calls. I remember the visits with loved ones, with their fellow officers, with friends. I remember the pain and the hurt and the agony. I remember the eulogies and the funerals--the grief that lingers still. I remember the families and communities shattered then and still feeling the loss now.

It first happened in March of 2007, just months after I had become mayor. Sergeant Tommaso Popolizio was the youngest of seven siblings. He was an avid paintball player and a loyal son of Newark. His family had immigrated from Italy back in the sixties and had settled in the city, where Sergeant Popolizio attended high school. Police work, you could say, was in his DNA. Two of his older brothers were Newark officers, and Sergeant Popolizio was following in his family's footsteps.

He had been a Newark police officer for 12 years when he had responded to a call, on a late night, of dangerous drag racing going on. Sergeant Popolizio pursued a subject in a high-speed chase during which his SUV crashed into a pole and rolled several times. He succumbed to head injuries 2 hours later.

I remember vividly, that day, speaking to news media at the hospital. I remember speaking to his heroism. I remember speaking to his dedication, to his commitment. And those words are as true today as they were then.

Those words of heroism ring true also for Detective Michael Morgan, a 6-year veteran of the Newark police force, who was tragically taken from us in November of 2011. It was said that Detective Morgan was destined to be a

cop. When he was a young boy, he would sit by his window and make siren noises as police cars went past his New Jersey home. Two of his cousins were police officers. His uncle was a police officer--a retired deputy chief no less. He was an athlete. He played linebacker and fullback for New Jersey City University.

During his years on the force, he helped take hundreds of guns off the streets, protecting people from gun violence. He was more than just a Newark police officer. He was a community leader from Newark, serving Newark, involved in the community, loving his city in every way.

On that November day, Detective Morgan was off duty when he attempted to stop an armed robbery suspect. Just as he was about to pull his weapon, he was shot in the torso. Other officers there tried to save his life. They rushed him to a nearby hospital, but he was pronounced dead.

Today, these stories cut even deeper. They weigh even heavier. New Jersey has lost too many police officers.

New Jersey grieves, recently, the loss of Deptford Police Officer Robert ``Bobby'' Shisler. He tragically passed away just this Sunday from a gunshot wound that he suffered 2 months ago following a pedestrian stop. A 4-year veteran of the force, he was the first Deptford police officer killed in the line of duty. He was just 27 years old.

The stories of these officers, of these three individuals--Sergeant Popolizio, Detective Morgan, and Officer Shisler--are among the hundreds and hundreds of stories of fallen officers whose names are on that wall. They are forever emblazoned on the heart and the soul and the character of our country. Their stories show duty; they show honor; stories of service, of selfless purpose and the ultimate sacrifice, stories that remind us of the dangers that every single day law enforcement officers face.

Most importantly, they demonstrate what it takes in this democracy, the greatest Nation on the planet still--the call of duty, the challenge of what it takes to preserve peace. Without officers who put themselves in harms' way, I struggle to think how the challenges we face would be all the deeper.

This week, as we commemorate National Police Week, the purpose of these days is for us to pay tribute. Police Week is about paying tribute to the law enforcement officers who made the ultimate sacrifice to our country. Let's not forget that.

It is a chance for all of us to pause and reflect on how we can continue to work together to ensure that police officers have the support that they deserve in doing some of the most difficult jobs in America.

Every day, law enforcement officers are on the frontlines of major crimes. They are there in our crises. They are there when we are afraid. They are there when we are under assault. They are there in our communities and our neighbors with a noble purpose to serve, to keep us safe, to make us strong. They respond to mass shootings, to domestic violence, to horrible accidents, and to painful crimes. They have to confront the scourge of the rising rates of gun violence in our country, walking into situations where they face individuals sometimes with weapons that belong not on our streets or in our neighborhoods but in theaters of war.

I have seen situations, active shooter situations, where other people are running out; they are running in. Other people are ducking for cover; they stand strong to protect us.

In the past few years, during the pandemic, I began to hear the stories of officers, with little regard for their own safety, still going out and doing their job. When fear and the unknown of this pandemic was hitting, you still had officers showing up for duty, going into dangerous situations, and I began to worry about their well-being.

It is why, working with Senator Grassley, I was proud, in the depth of the pandemic, to introduce legislation with other colleagues from both sides of the aisle to expand the PSOB Program so that death benefits are given to survivors of police officers and first responders who lose their lives to COVID-19; that the presumption is, if an officer dies, that it was a line-of-duty death.

Today, I introduced bipartisan legislation to ensure officers across the Federal Government receive their full retirement benefits. They are there for us for their whole career; we can make sure that we are there for them when they retire.

Of all these bills that are introduced and debated in this body, I know that it is a shadow of the work being done by the law enforcement officers in this Nation. Many of us in this body were reminded of their heroism when this Chamber was attacked on January 6, and we saw officer after officer put their lives on the line. Indeed, as a result of that attack, we lost Capitol Police officers, including Brian Sicknick from the State of New Jersey. We stand here, and we debate. We stand here, and we legislate. But out on the walls just yards from where I stand are the officers who show that every single day they face a danger that we will never know.

So this week, a week in which we remember our police officers, law enforcement themselves are still out there serving our community. Law enforcement officers are still, with little regard for their safety, running into situations of great danger. Whether it is a rookie cop on their first day or a seasoned veteran who has been on the job for decades, police officers put on their uniform, head outside, and their families and their children and their loved ones know the challenges and the dangers of the job. Most of them will come home. Most of them will raise their kids. Most of them will see retirement. But, tragically, some of them will not.

So this week, we call it Police Week, but it is a bit of a divergence from the understanding of why this week came to be. This week is here to remember the sacrifice and the service and the patriotism: ``My country `tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing;'' land where fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers died who wear the uniform, land of patriotism and pride. Let us not forget those who have fallen, and let us continue in a bipartisan way to protect them, to serve them who so nobly serve us, protect us, and advance this Nation forward each and every day.

Madam President, I rise to introduce the Citizenship for Essential Workers Act.

This legislation would provide a pathway to citizenship for these workers and their families, who have played a critical role in getting us through the pandemic and are helping with recovery efforts.

A little over 2 years ago, after I was first sworn into the U.S. Senate, this was the very first bill I introduced.

Every day, over 5 million essential workers without permanent legal status kept Americans healthy, fed, and safe during the COVID pandemic--all while risking their own health and the health of their families.

They couldn't just Zoom into the office.

Many served us while living in constant fear of deportation.

Back then, for the first time, Americans were waking up to a reality what families like mine knew for years: that not only were these immigrant workers saving lives in a time of need but that their work had always been essential to our country.

As the proud son of immigrants from Mexico whose mother worked as a housekeeper and father a short order cook--two jobs that today would be deemed essential--I can only imagine the fear and uncertainty my family would have experienced every day my dad walked out the door or my mom set off to enter another family's home in the middle of a pandemic.

The Federal COVID-19 public health emergency comes to an end next month, but we can't forget the sacrifices these workers made--and still make every single day--for our country.

And my legislation not only honors their sacrifice but also recognizes how critical essential workers are to our

economy even beyond a public health emergency.

They have earned their place in this country.

Madam President, I rise to introduce the Citizenship for Essential Workers Act.

This legislation would provide a pathway to citizenship for these workers and their families, who have played a critical role in getting us through the pandemic and are helping with recovery efforts.

A little over 2 years ago, after I was first sworn into the U.S. Senate, this was the very first bill I introduced.

Every day, over 5 million essential workers without permanent legal status kept Americans healthy, fed, and safe during the COVID pandemic--all while risking their own health and the health of their families.

They couldn't just Zoom into the office.

Many served us while living in constant fear of deportation.

Back then, for the first time, Americans were waking up to a reality what families like mine knew for years: that not only were these immigrant workers saving lives in a time of need but that their work had always been essential to our country.

As the proud son of immigrants from Mexico whose mother worked as a housekeeper and father a short order cook--two jobs that today would be deemed essential--I can only imagine the fear and uncertainty my family would have experienced every day my dad walked out the door or my mom set off to enter another family's home in the middle of a pandemic.

The Federal COVID-19 public health emergency comes to an end next month, but we can't forget the sacrifices these workers made--and still make every single day--for our country.

And my legislation not only honors their sacrifice but also recognizes how critical essential workers are to our

economy even beyond a public health emergency.

They have earned their place in this country.

Madam President, I ask unanimous consent that the text of the bill be printed in the Record.