Long before it became part of his official job duties, Minneapolis police Cmdr. Giovanni Veliz built a reputation as a trusted liaison between police and the city's growing immigrant populations.

He spent hours coaxing vulnerable crime victims — many of whom were distrustful of law enforcement or terrified of retaliation — to file police reports and speak with an attorney. Veliz maintained a constant presence in the community, educating Spanish-speaking residents on their rights.

As head of the MPD's U-Visa program, which certifies crime victim visas to noncitizens who cooperate with authorities, he set a new standard for how officers should handle cases of domestic violence. Even those who waited many years to document the abuse received help creating the paper trail required to apply, an act of deference that opened a path toward citizenship for dozens who wouldn't otherwise qualify.

"He's transformed the lives of so many women and children who have been the victims of crime and abuse," said Gloria Contreras Edin, a St. Paul immigration attorney who's worked with Veliz for two decades.

The Ecuadorian-born officer, who became the first immigrant to serve as a lieutenant in the Minneapolis Police Department, retired earlier this month after 30 years on the job. Those who know him best describe him as a tireless advocate of Minneapolis' Latino community, who was unafraid of pursuing cultural change within the embattled agency.

During a period of fractured trust in the '90s, when many Hispanic residents perceived the department as an arm of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), Veliz emerged as an "exceptional bridgebuilder," said former police chief Medaria Arradondo.

"He has this uncanny ability to connect with people and meet them where they are," said Arradondo, who credits Veliz with launching the first Latino Citizens Academy to help generate pathways into law enforcement.

Veliz, affectionately known as "Gio," steadily moved up the ranks, from beat cop to patrol and later serving as administrative sergeant to the chief, director of the Police Activities League and, mostly recently, commander of the Special Crimes Investigations Division.

But achieving that dream was not easy. He emigrated from Guayaquil, Ecuador, as a teenager knowing only a few words of English, sharing a one-bedroom apartment in Queens, N.Y., with his mother and two brothers. The language barrier made it difficult to access basic services, he recalled in an interview.

"I carry a lot of empathy for new arrivals who are victims of crimes," said Veliz, 58. "I can feel what they're going through when they say, 'Oh I didn't know how to call 911.'"

Parents who instilled the value of public service — and a love of the 1960s "Mission: Impossible" TV show — propelled him toward a career in law enforcement. Veliz enrolled at John Jay College of Criminal Justice, where he supported himself by buzzing around New York City as a diamond courier. The bachelor's degree opened doors for Veliz, who joined the Minneapolis police academy in 1992, a time when the department employed few Latino cops — and even fewer bilingual ones.

Supervisors castigated his thick accent and encouraged him to drop out, Veliz said. He chose to stay.

Over time, Veliz found purpose in community policing, devoting himself to bolstering relationships with marginalized groups and improving outdated service policies that fell short of cultural competence. Sometimes, that required a willingness to stand up to the top brass.

In 2005, then-Sgt. Veliz filed two civil rights complaints after some officers unlawfully denied requests from the Spanish-speaking community for translators and continued to forward written communication to Hispanic residents in English only. He alleged retaliation for voicing those concerns, later pursuing a federal lawsuit after being denied a promotion.

"I admired him for doing that. And I feared for him," said Susana De León, an immigration attorney in south Minneapolis who served on Veliz's legal team. "It was courageous."

She recalled how officers sometimes forced young children to act as interpreters for parents who were victimized, rather than calling the language line available to them. "He wanted to remedy that," De León said, "because Gio really cares about making our community safer."

Yet, the experience took a toll. Colleagues ostracized him for breaking the "blue wall of silence," and Veliz, feeling increasingly isolated at work, lost sleep over the pending litigation. Eventually, a federal jury rejected his claim of retaliation, and higher-ups relegated him to the mediation compliance unit.

"They put you in the penalty box," joked Veliz, who used the downtime to educate himself in the City Hall library by poring over whatever contracts and public documents he could find. That sparked a desire to pursue more research opportunities, including a stint at the Harvard Kennedy School, a 2016 Bush Fellowship and a Ph.D.

After a few years, Veliz climbed back up the ladder. Mayor Jacob Frey eventually tapped him to revamp the U-Visa program, designed to ensure that victims feel safe reporting serious crimes to police despite their immigration status.

Veliz, who earned certification as a national trainer, established strong protocols that made Minneapolis a model in how to guide a fair process, immigration attorneys said. He established himself as someone willing to go the extra mile to investigate qualifying crimes and approve emergency U-Visa requests.

In the aftermath of George Floyd's murder in 2020, Veliz stepped in to help dozens of Latino small-business owners whose storefronts were targeted on Lake Street amid civil unrest. He guided dozens through the process of reporting qualifying crimes, like arson, and signed corresponding U-Visa applications.

"Now their lives are headed towards citizenship," said Contreras Edin, whose clients benefited from Veliz's aid. "When everything was looking dark, he was a bright light."

On Feb. 7, Veliz invited a small group of longtime friends and colleagues to join him for a private proclamation ceremony at City Hall to celebrate his career. Supporters took turns sharing anecdotes about his contributions to the city, then snapped photos as Frey declared it Giovanni Veliz Day in Minneapolis.

Retirement will grant Veliz the free time to wrap up that doctorate he's spent seven years pursuing at Hamline University. He is expected to defend his dissertation, "Latinxs' perception of the Minneapolis police and crime control," later this spring.

"Now the next journey," quipped his wife, Dawn Veliz, "is finishing the Ph.D."