Dangerous Detention
COVID-19 poses acute threat to transgender migrants in federal custody
By Cora Cervantes
Inside an immigration detention facility in Aurora, Colorado, Kelly and Kendra recently joined a group of women huddled around phones in the center’s “transgender pod.” They gathered to speak with representatives of La Resistencia, a group that advocates for the rights of detainees.
This call was about the COVID-19 pandemic and the grave health threats it poses to transgender people in detention.
Medical experts say the trans community faces unique challenges from COVID-19 because many have compromised immune systems.
“They are constantly fumigating with chemicals that are incredibly toxic for us,” Kendra said. “It is impacting our breathing capacity. Our lungs are getting irritated. We are really scared. Things are getting really ugly.”
(Kendra is a pseudonym. She fears reprisals, so palabra. is respecting her request for anonymity in this article.)
Recently, detainee rights groups have complained that officials have misused chemical disinfectants inside some detention facilities run by private contractors for the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency.
“One of our mates is in the medical unit. She is not well,” added Kelly Gonzalez Aguilar during the phone conference call. Kelly is a 24-year-old transgender woman who fled Honduras a decade ago because of bigotry and violence against her. “The medication they gave her is making her very sick … This was aggravated by the harsh sanitizing chemicals that are being used. Her skin became irritated and her chest became very red. Her body was covered in rashes. They didn't give her … proper treatment. She had been going unattended.”
Concern for people like Kendra and Gonzalez Aguilar stems from a history of neglect that activists say has led to deaths of trans women in detention.
“Members of the trans community face magnified harassment, degradation and violence by the guards and discrimination (from other detainees) in detention,” said Úmi Vera, Organizing Director of Familia: Trans Queer Liberation Movement. “COVID-19 is putting people at an even deadlier risk. There is a complete disregard for trans lives.”
A particular threat
According to the National Center for Transgender Equality, the pandemic has created a special risk to the LGBTQ community, which already reports higher rates of HIV infections and cancer.
The Centers for Diseases Control and Prevention attributes the high rates to “certain risk factors directly tied to transphobia and the marginalization that transgender people face, including, higher rates of drug and alcohol abuse, sex work, incarceration, homelessness, attempted suicide, unemployment, lack of familial support, violence, stigma and discrimination, limited health care access, and negative health care encounters.”
Compounding the threat: Researchers predict that the COVID-19 crisis will worsen in immigration detention centers, which are considered robust infection sites. Their projections say that eventually, a majority of U.S. immigration detainees could be exposed to the coronavirus.
Last week, news reports said that 40% of the staff at the Eloy Detention Center in Arizona tested positive for the coronavirus. That’s 128 staffers in addition to at least 242 infected detainees, making the privately run facility one of the worst COVID-19 hotspots in the nationwide immigration detention system.
Vera fears existing challenges faced by the trans community have been exacerbated by the coronavirus pandemic. She said the “transgender pod” in the Aurora, Colorado facility, and the now-closed Cibola Detention Center in New Mexico are examples of detention centers where trans detainee health has been mismanaged.
Neglect and death
For the undocumented trans community, Vera said, health threats are already abundant. Their legal status limits access to medical care, a problem for those undergoing hormone therapy. For many, long journeys from Central America and Mexico have taken a toll. And then there’s the constant fear of deportation and the threat of detention in dreaded ICE facilities.
One example: In 2018, Roxsana Hernandez Rodriguez, 33, died after more than two weeks in federal custody, including a prolonged stay in a “hielera” -- an icebox -- a holding cell kept unusually cold.
After a few years of undocumented crossings in the United States, and deportations, Hernandez Rodriguez finally joined a northbound caravan of migrants from Honduras. In her home country she feared violence and transphobia. In early May, 2018, she crossed the border at San Diego and was placed in federal custody. On May 16th she was transferred to the Cibola Detention Center in New Mexico. On the 17th, medical personnel conducted a medical screening. ICE records of her detention note that the next day Hernandez Rodriguez was admitted to Cibola General Hospital with symptoms of pneumonia, dehydration, and complications associated with HIV.
Immigrant rights advocates say Hernandez Rodriguez did not get timely medical care and HIV treatment. They claim that the neglect she experienced while in U.S. custody opened the door to the pneumonia Hernandez Rodriguez developed.
She died on May 25th. Medical records list the cause of death as cardiac arrest.
In a statement at the time, ICE said: “Consistent with the agency’s protocols, the appropriate state health and local law enforcement agencies have been notified about this death...ICE’s Health Service Corps (IHSC) ensures the provision of necessary medical care services as required by ICE Performance-Based National Detention Standards and based on the medical needs of the detainee. Comprehensive medical care is provided from the moment detainees arrive and throughout the entirety of their stay.”
Food delivery truck driver Jose Hernandez, with his three sons. Hernandez is an undocumented worker in Los Angeles who continues to work despite the danger of exposure. He delivers food to grocery stores in California, Nevada and Arizona. Photo courtesy of the Hernandez family.
Forcing change
It is difficult to say how many transgender people are in federal immigration detention amid the pandemic. A survey in 2017 had put the number of trans detainees in the ICE system at 700.
“Other facilities may be holding transgender folks if they are en route, quarantined, or some other circumstance I might not know. Several organizations got many transgender folks released from detention once COVID hit,” said Jordan Garcia of the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC), a Quaker-based group working with transgender people in detention.
Even before the pandemic, lawsuits had pushed the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency to rewrite health screenings for detainees.
The agency’s policy says: “Detainees shall have access to a continuum of health care services, including screening, prevention, health education, diagnosis, and treatment.”
ICE defends its handling of transgender detainees, saying they “have access to mental health care, and other transgender-related health care and medication based on medical need. Treatment shall follow accepted guidelines regarding medically necessary transition-related care.”
ICE also has a 19-step health screening process for all detainees, which is supposed to start within five days of custody.
Using a list of questions about physical and mental health, screeners inquire about a “transgender detainee’s gender self-identification and history of transition-related care when a detainee self-identifies as transgender.” Moreover, “Transgender detainees who were already receiving hormone therapy when taken into ICE custody shall have continued access. All transgender detainees shall have access to mental health care, and other transgender-related health care and medication based on medical need. Treatment shall follow accepted guidelines regarding medically necessary transition-related care.”
Rights activists say this has not been enough to protect trans detainees. They argue that the protocols still allow detainees to be exposed to the coronavirus before they’re examined by medical personnel. And they point to the death of Johana Medina León, almost a year after Hernandez Rodriguez died.
Medina León was a nurse in El Salvador who fled threats and gang violence. In custody, she is said to have repeatedly asked for medical help. Shortly before her death, Medina León asked to be deported home so she could get medical attention.
A constant state of fear
“The fear of contracting coronavirus is always present because we don’t have the resources to care for ourselves properly,” Kendra said of the conditions in the Aurora, Colorado facility. “I am very scared. All of us are very scared. The doctor’s office isn’t giving us the proper medication or care. We feel a tremendous amount of fear.”
The use of punishment like solitary confinement and the toll of inadequate health services has led trans rights groups to file new lawsuits and pursue transparency about ICE’s COVID-19 practices for at-risk detainees.
“Solitary confinement is cruel and further dehumanizes people,” said Bamby Salcedo, founder of the TransLatin@ Coalition. “When they isolate us simply because of who we are, they are saying that our humanity is not real and that our lives don't matter.”
Meanwhile, trans migrants in detention are speaking out about the conditions they face.
After three years in detention, Kelly Gonzalez Aguilar went public, reporting that she faced anti-trans retaliation at the Aurora facility.
Community groups launched a campaign to free her. Lawyers reminded ICE and judges that Gonzalez Aguilar had long ago become eligible for parole, and more than 90,000 people signed petitions calling for her release.
Today, she’s finally out, although she still faces possible deportation.
"Kelly’s release is a reminder that ICE could have released her at any point during the 1,051 days that she was stripped of her freedom,” the TransLatin@ Coalition said in a statement. “It is a reminder that ICE has the discretion to release all people from their custody, and that community organizing works! We strongly believe ICE was forced to release Kelly, largely due to the community advocacy that was happening online, outside the detention center, and in their inboxes."
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Cora Cervantes is a freelance journalist in Los Angeles who focuses on immigration and diversity, equality and inclusion issues. She has produced stories for multimedia outlets, including NBC News, Al-Jazeera, NPR’s Latino USA, and Narratively.