
Room Raids Intensify After Protests (Image Credits: Upload.wikimedia.org)
Parents held at the Dilley Detention Center detailed a sharp increase in restrictions, including the removal of children’s artwork and constant oversight by guards, as families sought to share their experiences publicly.[1]
Room Raids Intensify After Protests
Public attention triggered a wave of stricter enforcement at the South Texas Family Residential Center. Reporters visited in mid-January, prompting children to document their daily struggles through letters and drawings. Days later, on January 24, dozens of detainees staged a protest in the yard, holding handmade signs.
Guards responded with more frequent room searches. Previously handled by two staff members, these inspections now involved eight to ten personnel who lifted mattresses and sifted through belongings. One mother watched as workers stripped drawings from walls and bagged crayons and colored pencils. Christian Hinojosa concealed an envelope of her children’s artwork in her jacket during one such raid, relieved by the cool weather.[1]
Children’s Drawings Convey Despair
Art served as a vital outlet for children confined indoors due to cold weather and limited schooling. Guards confiscated supplies like pencils stored in cups and paper used for sketches, leaving kids without diversion. One drawing depicted Bratz dolls; others showed stick-figure families trapped behind fences.[1]
Released parents smuggled out collections of these works. Hinojosa gathered 34 pages, including images of a teddy bear, a bus heading home, and a pet cat named Willi. Frowning faces dotted many pieces. Children also penned heartfelt pleas:
- Seven-year-old Mathias Bermeo wrote, “I’m writing this letter so that you can hear my story. I need you to help us… we are kidnapped help!”
- Nine-year-old Valentina shared, “I have been detained for a long time… I just want to go to the United States to be with my grandparents and finally end this nightmare.”
- Thirteen-year-old Edison declared, “I see how they treat us like criminals, and we’re not.”
- Seven-year-old Diana missed her stuffed animals and friends, insisting, “we are not criminals.”
These accounts revealed boredom, tears, and longing for home.[1]
Monitored Calls and Hidden Messages
Surveillance extended to communications. Guards positioned themselves near video calls to relatives and journalists, sometimes half a dozen in the room. One father noted an agent watching his son Edison, who sounded panicked on the line.
Access to library computers worsened when Gmail and Google services vanished, complicating lawyer contacts. Staff warned detainees against speaking to U.S. Rep. Joaquin Castro during his January 28 visit. Parents like Hinojosa collected writings at a reporter’s request, hiding them until release. A former detainee delivered a packet on January 22.[1]
Facility Operators Deny Wrongdoing
CoreCivic, which manages the center for ICE, called the searches routine and denied destroying artwork. The company pointed to displayed examples in the facility and rules allowing personal decorations if non-hazardous. The Department of Homeland Security acknowledged one seizure during an investigation but insisted facilities meet safety needs.
Rep. Castro affirmed similar accounts from his visits, citing an atmosphere of secrecy. Neither CoreCivic nor DHS addressed Google access or call monitoring directly. The center, reopened last spring amid low border crossings, now holds families long settled in the U.S., exceeding a 20-day detention limit from past agreements.[1]
These revelations underscore the tension between security measures and basic comforts for detained families. As children’s simple drawings and words pierce the silence, questions persist about conditions in facilities like Dilley. What do you think of these reports? Tell us in the comments.
Key Takeaways
- Room searches escalated post-protest, leading to art supply confiscations.
- Children expressed fear and isolation through smuggled letters and sketches.
- Officials maintain operations are standard, amid calls for transparency.
Details drawn from firsthand accounts in a ProPublica investigation.
