Remember “detention” in high school? Looking back, it doesn’t sound too bad – at least not when compared to what ICE calls “detention.” Today’s “detention center” is a holding tank for immigrants until deportation, but ICE is having a hard time deporting immigrants because they are filing habeas petitions and refusing to self-deport. The result is that over 73,000 men, women and children are incarcerated and more are arrested every day. The Trump Administration has proposed opening dozens of new centers and adding space for 30,000 more people.

One of the nation’s largest centers is the Northwest ICE Processing Center (NWIPC) in Tacoma, Washington. It can hold 1,575 people and is the only center in Washington, Oregon and Idaho. The detainees come from practically every state, so few are near enough to family to have visitors. I found a non-profit in Tacoma called Advocates for Immigrants in Detention (AIDNW) that organizes volunteer visits and greets ex-detainees. After doing a security check, AIDNW arranged for me meet detainees every other week. The goal of the visits is to diminish the boredom and claustrophobia of being enclosed indefinitely in a windowless building and possibly to form a link with the family.

It has been a heart-warming and disturbing experience to visit detainees. Since the early 1980s, I’ve worked with refugees in Asia, Europe, the U.S. and Latin America but I wasn’t prepared for the U.S. detention system. The first immigration processing centers, Ellis Island and Angel Island, seem almost quaint when compared to today’s version that has become the largest incarceration system in the world. Guantanamo Bay is managed by the federal government, but most ICE prisons are run by private companies like GEO Group and Core Civic.

Partisan wrangling in Congress has blocked immigration reform for almost 40 years, so the population of undocumented immigrants keeps rising. Capitalism thrives on cheap, non-union labor, so employers rely on dependable, hard-working immigrants. Immigration reform will take place – eventually – and a bi-partisan bill will pass if it “controls the border” while welcoming immigrants who’ve paid their rent, taxes and utilities and have no criminal record.

In fact, this is exactly what President Reagan supported, and such a law was passed by Congress. In 1986, touting immigrants’ value to the economy, President Reagan signed a bill at the Statue of Liberty creating a legal path for almost three million undocumented immigrants. “Illegal force,” he said. “Those who have established equities in the United States should be recognized and accorded legal status… We draw our people… from every country… and by doing so we renew and enrich our nation.”

In response to the new law, the Catholic Diocese of NC asked me to set up an Immigration Counseling Center in Raleigh. I recruited a retired judge, and we helped dozens of immigrants get on a path to citizenship. In the late 1980s, when thousands of Haitians arrived in North Carolina as migrant workers, I obtained federal, state and private grants to set up a job training and literacy program called the Farmworker School. Within a few years, hundreds of Haitians gained the English-language skills to leave the semi-slavery of migrant labor.

Five years ago, in Reynosa, Mexico, I filled out over 500 “temporary parole status” (TPS) applications for migrants who then crossed legally into McAllen, TX. Later, in El Paso, I worked at Annunciation House, a shelter for thousands who crossed legally from Juarez. And, after the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan, I worked with a legal team at Holloman Air Force Base in NM helping former Afghan soldiers and their families fill out green card applications.

Working with immigrants and living overseas changed how I see myself and our nation. I believe that immigrants breathe life into our country with their personalities, language, food, culture, kindness and hard work; they bring faith and hope to a nation that needs both. They’ve made me realize I am an international citizen who has brothers and sisters around the world, some of whom have chosen to live and work in the United States.

In criminal law, a defendant usually has a right to an attorney, but this is not true in immigration law. An immigrant detainee has to become a jailhouse lawyer, find pro bono help or pay for an attorney. Due to firings of judges by Trump, immigration courts are understaffed and there is a shortage of affordable immigration attorneys, so most detainees are stuck in detention for months or years without assistance. Because detention is indefinite and hearings are not guaranteed, you might think that detainees would choose to self-deport, but most refuse. Juan (see below) is one of thousands who have spent much of their lives living in the U.S., so they have no desire to return to a country they barely know.

I asked immigration attorney Tony Hom to fill me in on asylum and he wrote that, “detainees may apply for political asylum within one year of their entry into the U.S., but often migrants on day of entry apply immediately for asylum.” In 2025, the Trump Administration instituted a total ban on reviewing asylum applications, but it was partially lifted in March 2026, though it remains in effect for 40 countries.

Except for pastors and chaplains, few outsiders are allowed inside the detention centers. We know that forty-six people have died since Trump was re-elected, including 36 among who were detained three months or less. There are countless lawsuits alleging unsanitary conditions, and, for some, the only way to get medical care is to go on a hunger strike (more below). Few detention centers have classes or any kind of avocational activities, so boredom is a major problem. A useful intervention would be English classes so detainees could communicate better with staff, talk with a lawyer and meet English-speaking visitors.

The few men and women who are released step through the chain link security doors without warm clothes and sometimes without phones, papers and money. Fortunately, they are greeted by teams of volunteers who wrap them with parkas, offer hot drinks and help them return home.

Before entering the NW Detention Center, I feared I’d get claustrophobia inside the windowless cellblock. Instead, I’ve met fellow humans who are teaching me about tenacity and love. I am amazed that, even when separated by bulletproof glass, friendship travels easily between us. The first detainee I met was Juan, a 35-year-old with bright eyes, a beautiful smile, inner confidence and a dry sense of humor. He told me that, after 11 months of incarceration, he finally had a visitor.

I am fortunate to be that person.

I parked in front of a beige warehouse surrounded by concertina wire and railroad tracks. I entered the visitor center, put my items in a locker and filled out a form for Geo Group, the company that runs the prison. I was “wanded” and took a seat in the waiting room. A Vietnamese woman from Ho Chi Minh City told me she was waiting to visit her husband. A lawyer with a computer and briefcase said the Department of Justice had made it almost impossible to get a bond hearing.

Then a guard called out Juan’s name, instructed me to open a steel door, go down a white hall, turn right and look for cell 1. The door slammed behind me, and I walked alone into the windowless cellblock. Panic crawled up my throat. I turned a corner and found myself in a tiny booth with bulletproof glass separating me from a man clutching a phone. I grabbed the old-timey black receiver.

“Hi. I’m Tito Craige from Seattle. Glad to meet you. English or Spanish?”

“English is good. I’m Juan. Thanks for visiting.”

Juan told me he was brought to the US as a child, went to high school and college, received Deferred Action for Childhood Arrival (DACA) status and started working. Before he was detained, he held two jobs and assisted his grandmother who suffers from dementia and cancer. Due to some kind of infraction, Juan had to meet probation requirements. He completed them and received a document stating no more reporting was necessary. After Trump was reelected, Juan’s release was rescinded and he was ordered to report to an office where he was arrested and sent to detention. Juan’s habeas petition argues that the government has no right to detain him without a hearing since he has documentation proving his probation was complete.

I asked Juan about life on the inside: “Detention will break you. It breaks a lot of people. I wasn’t prepared for it, but now I’m stronger and I’ve survived. It’s hard to be here and it’s not healthy. After a friend got a stomach bacteria and a foot infection, they cut off one of his toes, and ICE released him.”

Juan has channeled his energy into studying law in the prison library. His pro bono lawyer told him, “You’ve become a jailhouse lawyer who knows more about precedents than I do,” and now Juan is teaching other detainees how to file habeas petitions.

I asked if I could contribute to his commissary account and he said, “Sure. Then I can make calls and get snacks.” In the guard station I established an account and deposited $60.

Two weeks later, I visited Juan again. “To get anything,” he said, “you might have to go on a hunger strike. One guy was doubled over with pain and wouldn’t eat, so ICE finally sent him to a doctor. He was diagnosed with colitis, and now he’s now getting medication. A Jewish guy refused to eat so the administrator asked him what was going on. He said he had to have a special diet and that’s why he refused to eat prison food. Kosher food arrived a couple of days later.”

“Tito,” he said, “I appreciate the commissary donation. It was more than I needed, so I hope you don’t mind that I gave some of it away. No one should ever get left behind. You should have seen the look people’s faces when I gave them money. A few dollars go a long way. One man needed vitamin D, so I got him multivitamins and another needed skin cream for a rash. The company overcharges and shampoo is seven dollars. Someone should figure out how much they are making off the commissary. We get one hour a day outside, and it’s great to see nature, but a lot of people refuse to go out because they get depressed. I see people feeling really down, and the worst is when people lose at a hearing and start to look lifeless. That’s why there are suicides.”

Then he said, “I believe in God, so I focus on three things: gratitude, repentance and patience. I have to think about those things because, although I have been in the US for most of my life, ICE claimed I arrived two years ago. Short timers are forced to self deport, but I won’t agree to that because I have work, friends and my grandmother here. You see why I have to be patient.”

In drizzling rain, as daffodils began to bloom, I walked back to my car and drove home. Victor Frankl’s quote came to mind. “…everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”

Juan is choosing his attitude and he is surviving.

Then I looked at the train tracks and was reminded of Birkenau.

What are ways to get involved?

Oppose the acquisition of buildings for ICE detention. See: https://www.reuters.com/world/us/republican-senator-opposes-planned-ice-detention-center-mississippi-2026-02-04/

Pass laws that forbid the use of land for ICE facilities. See: https://www.urban.org/urban-wire/what-happens-when-ice-detention-facilities-conflict-land-use-rules-designed-promote#:~:text=Zoning%20for%20adequate%20services%20and,demands%20of%20a%20detention%20center

Require that detention centers allow visits by public officials. See: https://americanoversight.org/members-of-congress-ask-for-emergency-court-intervention-to-restore-congressional-oversight-in-ice-detention-facilities/#:~:text=More%20than%20a%20dozen%20members,and%20violence%20inside%20detention%20centers

Pass laws so immigrants can obtain legal representation. See: https://www.aila.org/blog/legal-representation-for-immigrants-protects-their-

Support an organization that assists and advocates for immigrants. https://www.dhhmn.com (collects and distributes food to shut-ins, advocates for immigrants in Minneapolis) https://aidnw.org (organizes visits to the detention center in Tacoma and supports those who are released) https://waisn.org/event/accompaniment-program-training-may/ (trains volunteers to respond to ICE, accompanies immigrants, educates the public) https://www.jewishcoalition.org (advocates for and accompanies immigrants)

https://www.dhhmn.com (collects and distributes food to shut-ins, advocates for immigrants in Minneapolis)

https://aidnw.org (organizes visits to the detention center in Tacoma and supports those who are released)

https://waisn.org/event/accompaniment-program-training-may/ (trains volunteers to respond to ICE, accompanies immigrants, educates the public)

https://www.jewishcoalition.org (advocates for and accompanies immigrants)

Read about immigrant deaths in detention. See: https://www.nytimes.com/2026/03/29/us/ice-detention-deaths-immigrants.html

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