After four hours with a clenched jaw and tense shoulders, he was finally able to let his guard down. The judge gave his family a new court date, and agents from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), who patrol the hallways and daily detain migrants like them when they show up for their appointments, let them go.
At the door, Amanda Aguilar, a worker at a non-governmental organization that helps immigrants, approached the Colombian-Venezuelan family. Cadena looked at his wife, the tension of the morning still reflected on her face, and smiled as he took the paper.
Immigration Courts in the Crosshairs of ICE U.S. immigration courts, where individuals facing deportation proceedings can defend their cases, have become an emblem of the Donald Trump administration's campaign to speed up the detention and expulsion of migrants from the country. The presence of ICE agents in these spaces, once extraordinary, has become part of the daily routine.
In a policy shift, the government is urging immigration judges—who are part of the Department of Justice—to dismiss the cases of migrants, and at the conclusion of hearings, plainclothed agents with face masks are detaining them as they leave the building.
Aid to Migrants Pushed to the Sidewalks Before ICE agents began appearing at the courts, the Trump administration ended the contracts and funding of several organizations that provided legal support to detained migrants, unaccompanied minors, and individuals declared "mentally incompetent." As a result, organizations like American Gateways, where Aguilar works as an attorney, lost their physical presence within the immigration courts, and with it, the ability to advise migrants more directly.
"We lost our office in the San Antonio court and also a lot of funding, so now we have less staff," the activist told EFE. To compensate for this shortfall and continue to lend a hand, volunteers and lawyers from the NGO park their car in front of the courthouse building—located in downtown San Antonio—from Monday to Thursday, use the trunk as a desk, and approach migrants with appointments that day to inform them of their rights, take their information if they are detained, and provide guidance on how to navigate the system.
"Many don't know what's going on, they don't know they can be arrested because they think: 'I have no criminal charges, I'm just here for my appointment,'" Gomez explained. The primary tool the organization has to protect migrants from being detained at the court is to get their hearings to be virtual, the lawyer added.
"It is the will of God, only He knows what can happen," she added.
Cadena and his family, who have their next hearing in December, decided to appear in court despite the risk of detention because they wanted to follow the law. "We have a friend who came recently and did not get out (...), but we came here to do things right; if we do them wrong, we change nothing," the Venezuelan told EFE. His three-year-old son is already learning English at school, and he works in the construction sector. "For their next hearing, they can request that it be a virtual appearance," she told them.
