Seeking Help, Instead Imprisoned—Until They Found Representation

Raina and Ana’s story.
Erica Bryant Associate Director of Writing
Nov 29, 2022

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Raina and Ana* could not understand the papers that were given to them as they sat, shackled hand and foot, in an upstate New York jail. Both from Mexico, Raina had escaped domestic violence and Ana had fled her hometown after receiving threats from the people who had tortured and killed her brother. Although they came to the United States separately, and for different reasons, both women saw the country as a beacon of hope and safety.

U.S. and international laws permit people fleeing danger to seek asylum. But when Raina and Ana were intercepted by Border Patrol agents after entering the United States to seek safety, they found themselves imprisoned instead of aided. Research shows that detaining people in prison-like conditions is not necessary to ensure they participate in immigration court proceedings. Yet, Raina and Ana were forced to spend weeks locked up at Clinton County Jail, part of the massive U.S. immigration detention system.

Ana reported being shackled hand and foot at Clinton County Jail. Illustration by Mike Centeno.

“I was crying a lot”

The U.S. immigration detention system is made up of a shadowy network of local jails, prisons, privately run facilities, and even fenced enclosures. Ana said that the cells in Clinton County Jail were very cold, and the experience of incarceration was hard. “We felt very sad,” she said. “I was crying a lot.”

Both women were surprised at their treatment when they came to the United States. “When you come here, you are looking to get away from danger,” Ana said. “I felt devastated when we got to the jail. They take you in handcuffs; not just around your hands but also chains at your feet.”

It was at Clinton County Jail that a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officer presented both Raina and Ana with expedited removal orders to sign. But the orders were in English, and no Spanish translation was offered. Their questions about what they were given went unanswered. “They just said, ‘sign it here, sign it here, sign it here,’” Ana recalled.

They did as they were told. With their signatures, they had unknowingly given up their right to seek asylum and agreed to be sent back to Mexico.

Another detained woman, who could read English, informed Raina and Ana that by signing the papers they had essentially agreed to be deported. They felt devastated and alone. Forcing someone to sign documents they can’t read is an all-too-common occurrence in immigration detention, where far too many people are denied the ability to understand and exercise their legal options and make informed choices.

An ICE officer presented both Raina and Ana with expedited removal orders to sign. But the orders were in English, and no Spanish translation was offered. Their questions about what they were given went unanswered. Illustration by Mike Centeno.

The cruelty of immigration detention

Raina and Ana would have all but certainly been deported if not for the intervention of Halinka Zolcik, an accredited representative of Prisoners’ Legal Services of New York, which participates in the New York Immigrant Family Unity Project (NYIFUP). New York was the first of a growing number of states and municipalities across the country to build a public defender-style system so that people facing deportation can have free legal representation. The Vera Institute of Justice and the National Partnership for New Americans have launched the Fairness to Freedom campaign to push for legislation that would establish this right at the federal level.

Public funding allows people like Zolcik to provide legal services to those who desperately need them. Fortunately, she connected with Raina and Ana just in time. “If we hadn’t caught this right then, they could have been deported back to their abusers,” said Zolcik. “It scares me to imagine how many expedited removal orders are signed when the people don’t even know what they are signing.”

The need for publicly funded representatives like Zolcik is dire. Although people who face criminal charges are guaranteed the right to legal representation as a component of due process, no such right exists for people who face civil immigration proceedings. And while people like Raina and Ana often have their freedom taken from them and face other severe consequences while waiting for their day in court, most people in their situation do not have a legal representative to protect their rights. In contrast, the government that is seeking to deport them is always represented by a highly trained attorney.

Immigration law is notoriously complicated, and vast legal expertise is usually required for a person to prove their right to stay in the United States. It is also nearly impossible for people like Raina and Ana to escape this country’s massive detention and deportation machine without an attorney once they’ve been sucked into it. People in detention who have legal representation are 3.5 times more likely to be granted bond than those who don’t and 10.5 times more likely to prove their right to remain in the United States.

But immigration legal services can cost many thousands of dollars to resolve an individual case, which makes hiring someone to help impossible for many people. Of the 1.6 million people with cases pending in immigration court, more than 800,000 lack legal representation. As a result, every day, people with a legal right to remain in the United States are deported simply because they can’t afford an attorney.

Halinka Zolcik is an accredited representative of Prisoners’ Legal Services of New York, which participates in the New York Immigrant Family Unity Project (NYIFUP). Illustration by Mike Centeno.

No longer alone

Once Zolcik was named as their representative, Raina and Ana say that their treatment improved. For example, immigration officials began to provide them with translated documents. They were also given clearer information about the process ahead. “Everything change[s] once you can say that you have a lawyer and you are not alone,” Raina said.

Zolcik says it is typical for immigrants with lawyers and without lawyers to have wildly different experiences in immigration detention and in court. “After I started working with these ladies, [ICE] started being careful,” she said. “It 1,000 percent changed how they were treated.”

Raina and Ana’s orders of removal were reversed after Zolcik managed to get testimony from a corrections officer confirming that the women were not given a Spanish translation of the documents and that they had no idea what they were signing. Zolcik went to the officer who oversaw the women’s cases and outlined the reasons they had a right to seek asylum. The officer said that he was unaware that the women were afraid of returning to their country and that they had not requested a credible fear interview, which is a first step in the process of requesting asylum. Neither woman knew what a credible fear interview was, nor had any idea of how asylum applications are submitted.

Zolcik sat with Raina and Ana during both of their interviews as they explained why they fled their homes.

“In Mexico, the police don’t really protect you,” said Raina, who left the country after a partner threatened to kill her. “Everybody knows that in Mexico many women have disappeared. I was scared of being one of those women.”

Ana was grateful not to have to be alone as she sat with chains around her wrists and ankles and recounted over the four-hour interview the worst, most traumatic moments of her life, including the gruesome murder of her brother. “It was very tough,” she said. “I had to tell and explain a lot of hard moments that I have been through in my country. I felt like I was living everything again. [Zolcik] helped me to have mental balance.”

Zolcik was able to secure bond for both Raina and Ana. They had passed their credible fear interviews, with the officer determining that they were eligible to apply for asylum due to the circumstances they recounted. They could both finally leave the jail.

While people like Raina and Ana often have their freedom taken from them and face other severe consequences while waiting for their day in court, most in their situation do not have a legal representative to protect their rights. Illustration by Mike Centeno.

A path forward

Now, Raina and Ana say they feel hopeful, peaceful, relieved, and grateful for the assistance Zolcik is providing. Zolcik has been able to help them complete their asylum applications and has determined that they may be eligible for U visas, which are available to survivors of certain qualifying crimes, including domestic violence. Before meeting Zolcik, they were totally unaware of this pathway to legal residence. “In my case, (she) is an angel. She helped me not be treated as a bad person, even though I am an immigrant,” said Ana. “She knew how to guide me on the journey.”

More and more states and municipalities are working to provide government-funded lawyers to people facing deportation so that they don’t have to fight these kinds of battles alone. Although New York's investment in NYIFUP and other deportation defense initiatives has established powerful examples of the benefits of universal representation programs, there are still more than 50,000 people in New York State who are facing deportation without a lawyer.

The proposed Access to Representation Act would establish the right to legal counsel in immigration court proceedings in New York State. This bill’s passage would mean that anyone in New York who is at risk of being deported would be provided with legal representation, regardless of their ability to pay. Such initiatives across the country are the building blocks for a federal system of universal representation that can ensure no one appears in immigration court without an attorney there to help them understand their options, make informed choices, and affirm their rights. The Fairness to Freedom campaign is also working to build that federal system of universal representation that will help keep families together, disrupt the criminalization of people who are part of already marginalized communities, and protect people from the deplorable conditions of immigration detention.

“It is too important to have a lawyer,” said Raina. “Their duty is to defend our rights because we are human beings. Even though we are in another country, we are human beings.”

*Names have been changed to protect identity.

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