ST

First, I will say that there are a lot of similarities. The kids I was looking at in my 2015 book had crossed alone, and because they were not with a primary caregiver or biological relative when they were apprehended, they were designated as unaccompanied children and put into mandatory detention, at which point the government then became their legal guardian. But in some sense, the designation of unaccompanied minors was a fiction. Over 90 percent of those kids did have family members or surrogate caregivers in the United States who were more than willing to provide care for them. So, there was family separation at play in those cases as well.

I didn’t speak to kids who were currently in detention, because of the power dynamic. I felt that because of the constraints and constant surveillance they were under, they could not truthfully answer, or I might put them in a bad position by asking them to reflect critically on the conditions they were experiencing at the time. So, I spoke to kids after their stays in Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) detention, and I tried to get a sense of their remembered experience. And one of the central challenges in getting kids to talk to me is the stigma that they felt having been apprehended, having been treated like criminals.

When you’re in detention, you can’t leave. ORR describes these facilities as home-like settings. But home-like settings do not provide twenty-four-hour surveillance, line of sight checks, monitored entrances and exits, and all the features of a closed penal or psychiatric facility. What I found across the board was frustration — kids were frustrated because they had family in this country, and it was the government that, in becoming their legal guardian, made all the decisions about when they would leave, who they would be released to, who would qualify as an approved sponsor, and how long they would stay in detention.

Many of the kids were depressed, they were anxious, and this was exacerbated by the fact that they had no way of knowing whether they would get legal status. Under the current system, they’re not guaranteed any legal counsel. Yes, they have the right to hear attorneys tell them what their rights are, but at the time I was doing research those attorneys were absolutely legally forbidden from representing the kids. So, one of their central challenges was getting attorneys to represent them. Most of them were indigent. They couldn’t afford to hire their own attorneys, and they didn’t have the linguistic or cultural competence to do that anyway. Moreover, it was extremely difficult to secure counsel from detention, because they had limited access to phones, their calls were monitored, etc.

So, they experienced stigma and frustration at the very least — and worse. The longer the stays extended, the more likely it was that they would act out. Kids who acted out or attempted or threatened to escape were at risk of what the system calls being “stepped up,” or moved to a higher-security facility. And that made everything even more difficult.

Now what we’re seeing is a wave of kids who are being separated from their parents and in effect being turned into unaccompanied minors. The length of stay is increasing. So many of these kids will experience the exact same problems.