6200 children detained since inauguration.
As some of you know, I’m new to Texas. I’m all in and have my voter registration, library card, and driver’s license, secured in that order. Having grown up on the East coast, I admit I came with my preconceived notions of Texas. Truth be told, I really love living here in San Antonio. The people are among the friendliest I have ever encountered, and it has been so easy to make friends and connections. The political ads here are wild, so that takes some getting used to. My Congressman Greg Casar (a fellow UVA alum and chair of the progressive caucus) and hero Joaquin Castro represent us here in San Antonio, and they are both phenomenal advocates and champions for children. But there is one thing that keeps me up at night (and no, it’s not menopause).
In Dilley, Texas, which is not far from where I live, infants and toddlers wake up in immigration detention, essentially a prison. This is not an abstraction. This is not dystopian fiction. It is a policy choice. And a dystopian reality. Private prison company CoreCivic profits off of this unimaginable suffering, and shareholders don’t balk at the cruelty because they pad their pockets and can easily turn a blind eye. Core Civic is sinister, to put it mildly. I encourage you to check them out to see if they walk the talk. Spoiler alert: they don’t.
Their mission looks great on paper, but their practices indicate something different entirely. “CoreCivic is committed to providing high quality, compassionate treatment to all those in our care.”
At the South Texas Family Residential Center, the only family detention center in the country, infants, toddlers, and school-aged children are held in immigration detention with their mothers. The dorm-like moniker of a “family residential center” masks what unfolds within its walls. Even “Dilley” sounds silly and playful, masking the horrors within. These children sleep in cold, institutional rooms. They line up for meals, many of which are reported to be inedible and make children sick, which is exacerbated by having little access to quality, compassionate medical care. These children wait for court dates they do not understand. They carry trauma in bodies too small to hold it. And this trauma will unfurl its sharp coils into every fiber to harm their health and mental health for years to come. Trauma and toxic stress serve as poison, and this abuse is government-sanctioned, paid for by the very taxes we’ll all be forking over on April 15.
Children are not bargaining chips. They are not policy leverage. They are not pawns. They are human beings whose rights do not evaporate at a border.
Children in immigration detention cannot advocate for themselves. They are dependent on adults and on government actors for basic necessities – food, healthcare, and safety. And when those systems fail, and those people fail them, the children have no independent framework of rights explicitly centered on their best interests. You know what I’m going to say here. Remember which country is the only country who didn’t ratify the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. We see this mindset as a war on children day after day in policy failures that stack up from here to the moon (Artemis being a much needed bright light that we needed!).
We know what detention does to children. Decades of research on toxic stress and adverse childhood experiences show that prolonged uncertainty, confinement, and exposure to fear disrupt brain development, impair emotional regulation, and increase lifelong risk of chronic disease, depression, and anxiety. The damage does not disappear when the gates open. It travels home with them. It follows them into classrooms and communities. As a mother, as a human, I cannot fathom being complicit in this abuse.
And yet, here we are. Childhood itself has become politicized, and we deem only certain children worthy. We debate whether migrant children deserve basic human needs and legal counsel. Nay, we debate this about children based on their heritage, the color of their skin, their last name, their gender, their age, the list goes on, and the racism threads through it all like mucousy spittle. We argue about whether these children should have access to education and play while detained. We treat basic protections as bargaining chips in broader immigration fights. The cruelty is astonishing, and even worse things are happening on our watch.
What if we centered child welfare in every policy decision?
-
Would we separate families?
-
Would we confine toddlers behind barbed wire?
-
Would we accept prolonged detention as a default?
-
Would we terrorize communities?
-
Or would we design systems grounded in child development, trauma science, and human dignity?
The American Academy of Pediatrics, along with decades of adverse childhood experience (ACE) research, is unambiguous: detention is harmful to children’s physical and mental health. Full stop. There is no safe version of locking up babies and toddlers, or children of any age for that matter. Immigration enforcement goals do not override developmental science. Let’s trust the pediatricians.
And above all else, we know Ms. Rachel and Pedro Pascal wouldn’t steer us wrong.
If we claim to champion children’s rights globally, how can we do so credibly while failing to guarantee them at home? For the record, we’re not doing such a great job globally either.
Children have the right to family unity, to freedom from arbitrary detention, to healthcare, to education, to protection from violence, and to have their voices heard in matters affecting them. These are not radical demands. They are the bare minimum of a humane society. Childhood is among the most precious gifts.
In Dilley, children color pictures on institutional floors. They learn new English words. They cling to their mothers in courtrooms. They are resilient, but resilience should never be an excuse for harm. We cannot continue to treat childhood as only worthy of conditional love and respect. The measure of a nation is not how loudly it proclaims its values, but how faithfully it protects its children.
And right now, behind locked doors in Texas, children are waiting for us to decide who we are as a nation.
No one can be silent. Raise your voice.
Follow these fierce women and read about the movement they fueled.
TAKE ACTION
Sign the petition to close Dilley and share with your networks.
Sign up here to go live with 10,000 Moms and the Blue Bunny Brigade on Thursday, April 16. See all the details in this toolkit.
CONTACT YOUR REPRESENTATIVES
Call and email your Senators and House representative. Demand they oppose family detention, support legal representation for children, and prioritize community-based alternatives. 5 Calls is a terrific resource that makes this turnkey.
DONATE TO ORGANIZATIONS ON THE FRONT LINES
National Immigrant Justice Center
I don’t know how many ways I can say that WE ARE UNDERREACTING
“Creating a world that is truly fit for children does not imply simply the absence of war. It means having the confidence that our children would not die of measles or malaria. It means having access to clean water and proper sanitation. It means having primary schools nearby that educate children, free of charge. It means changing the world with children, ensuring their right to participate, and that their views are heard and considered. It means building a world fit for children, where every child can grow to adulthood in health, peace and dignity.” –Carol Bellamy