Give Me Your Tired — As Long as They Can Hear

January 8, 2023

Guest blogger: Nikoo Taghdiri, law student, University of San Francisco:

On 10400 Rancho Road in the city of Adelanto, California sits the Adelanto Detention Facility, a private-owned immigration detention center built around what used to be a prison, both owned and operated by the GEO Group. Adelanto Detention Facility has a colorful history of being accused of “medical neglect, poor treatment by guards, [and a] lack of response to complaints and other problems,” from detainees attempting to slip letters to Adelanto officials letting them know they’ve only been given ibuprofen in lieu of medical attention to others submitting to deportation to escape the facility’s ill-treatment.

Not only has the Adelanto Detention Facility consistently failed to identify and provide accommodations for their detainees with disabilities, but the accommodations they do manage to provide are often deficient or in disrepair. At times, attempts are not even made to aid those within their walls.

In Fischer, Gonzalez, & Diaz’s There is No Safety Here, we are introduced to Juan, a 22-year-old Deaf asylum seeker from Central America. In seeking asylum in the United States, Juan was sent to Adelanto while his case was pending. Despite Juan knowing Guatemalan Sign Language, the staff at Adelanto “did not provide him a sign language interpreter, including for medical appointments,” forcing him to rely on “point[ing] at the area of his body that was hurting” in hopes that he would be understood. Perhaps most jarring, though, is that Adelanto medical staff reported Juan was not able to sign at all, writing the following: “Detainee is deaf but does not sign in American or Spanish Sign Language. Per signing interpreters in the past, detainee is using ‘made up’ signs.”

When a cursory Google search indicates Geo Group Inc. is worth roughly 1.34 billion USD, it’s only natural to ask why none of those funds are being redirected to help individuals like Juan—to hire better (or any) sign language interpreters, to learn more than just American or Spanish Sign Language, and other accommodations that are vital for their disabled populations.

Perhaps the most frustrating question that comes from Juan’s circumstance is how his case is a perfect representation of how racism, disability, and citizenship status can intersect in the sphere of U.S. immigration today. Not only did Juan have to contend with a medical system that refused to accommodate him in a way that would provide him the most basic healthcare at best, but the Adelanto Detention Facility’s staff—staff that only works with immigrants—did not even consider whether Juan, a man from Central America, would know sign language outside of ASL or LSE (Lengua de Signos Española, or Spanish Sign Language). Juan’s treatment indicates a complete lack of understanding, true, but it also heavily demonstrates the lack of care that is exhibited in detention facilities when disabled noncitizens surface.

Unfortunately, Juan’s circumstances are not unique—they are rather quite commonplace for hard-of-hearing or Deaf immigrants in detention centers. However, Juan’s circumstances have been publicized, and that is something that cannot be said for many disabled immigrants subject to the United States’s harrowing detention process. For every story that is shared, there are many more that are silenced, and merely sharing such stories does little for those experiencing the pain and suffering within them.

The question that we’re left with at the end of this piece is a tricky one. What comes next? To present stories like Juan’s with the expectation that we’ve achieved morality by merely exposing faults of the immigration system is hypocritical and, frankly, ridiculous. For actual change to occur, we need to act. However, thinking of ways to fix such deeply embedded issues also feels impossible—if this is how our system has operated this entire time, how can we hope to change it fast enough to prevent more suffering?

Ultimately, I believe we must use the resources at our disposal to enact change as much as we can. A vague, unsatisfying answer, sure, but one that I imagine I’ll be working on and developing for the rest of my career and, more importantly, my life.

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