Laura Pinho, a 51-year-old dance teacher at Canoga Park Senior High School in California, married a Gaza resident named Salem S.E. Abu Amra on April 5, 2026 — via Zoom, through Utah's virtual marriage system — and then went on a CODEPINK webinar to brag about it.
She framed the whole thing as activism. For Palestinian rights and freedoms, she said.
The marriage itself was conducted remotely through Utah County, which allows virtual ceremonies with a secured license, valid ID, and two witnesses. No one has to be physically present. Convenient setup if you're trying to fast-track a green card for someone living in an active war zone without, say, actually living with them.
Pinho announced the marriage on June 16 during a CODEPINK webinar titled "Challenging Zionism In Our Schools" — a title that tells you everything about the crowd she runs with. CODEPINK activist Marcy Winograd congratulated her during the session. The whole thing played out like a victory lap.
The marriage records were obtained by NGO Monitor, an Israeli nonprofit, after they were posted online by the Utah County Clerk. The New York Post picked up the story on June 27, and by the 28th, Twitchy had the screenshots circulating everywhere.
Here's what federal law says about this: entering into a marriage for the purpose of obtaining immigration benefits is a felony under 8 U.S.C. § 1325(c). It carries up to five years in prison and a $250,000 fine. That's not a gray area. That's not a matter of interpretation. That's the statute.
Pinho didn't hide in the shadows. She went on a recorded webinar, in front of an activist audience, and told them what she did and why she did it. She framed a federal crime as civil disobedience and expected applause.
And she got it — from that room, anyway.
The defense will inevitably be that this was a "real" marriage, that love transcends borders, that questioning her motives is Islamophobic or anti-Palestinian or whatever the word of the week is. But Pinho herself connected the marriage to a political cause, not a personal relationship. She announced it at a political event. She described it in political terms.
This is a public school teacher. She stands in front of students at Canoga Park Senior High every day. She's entrusted with other people's children. And she went on the internet and told the world she committed what appears to be textbook immigration fraud — then waited for the standing ovation.
Utah's virtual marriage system exists for deployed military members, couples separated by medical emergencies, people who can't physically be in the same room for legitimate reasons. It wasn't designed as a pipeline for activist teachers to marry foreign nationals they've never lived with as a political statement.
The FBI and USCIS have not publicly commented on whether they're investigating. But the evidence isn't buried in classified files or hidden behind lawyer-client privilege. It's on a recorded webinar and a public marriage record.
She confessed on camera, named the cause, and posted the receipts. If federal prosecutors need a case that builds itself, this one comes with a bow on it.