“Little children at their parents’ hearings, walking around with these agents towering over them, uncertain of what the future is going to bring, and if their family could be separated in those hallways next.” This evocative sentence by NBC’s Jacob Soboroff is not a momentary image it’s the every-day life for families who pass through the foreboding halls of 26 Federal Plaza, the New York City federal immigration court. The 26 Federal Plaza office building, now notorious for its makeshift 10th-floor detention facility, has become an emblem of the human toll of immigration enforcement.
Despite promises by the Trump administration to prioritize violent criminals, the statistics contradict this narrative. In May and June, 67% of those arrested in 26 Federal Plaza their records wiped clean 968 out of 1,453 people, had no prior criminal record, according to The City. They are simply classified as “other immigration violators,” and that might mean anything from exceeding the time allowed on a visa to being without proper documents. And they’re stuck in an system that for many is as much about fear and uncertainty as it is justice.
Conditions at the so-called “processing center” on the 10th floor have brought a wave of alarm. Videos made public by the New York Immigration Coalition depict migrants packed into small cells, on the floor in some cases with only Mylar blankets to keep warm. “Look how they have us,” one of them says in Spanish, “like dogs in here.” People are reported to be held for a 29-hour average, and others are being detained up to eight days many of them showerless, without privacy, or adequate food. But officials at the Department of Homeland Security assert, “26 Federal Plaza is not a detention center,” saying there are no overcrowding or deplorable conditions.
That’s not a semantic distinction there are material consequences. Members of Congress, who are legally permitted to tour detention centers, have been systematically barred from the 10th floor. As Rep. Nydia Velázquez stated, “They’ve claimed it’s not a detention facility, just a ‘processing center,’ to block members of Congress from exercising our legal right to conduct oversight.” The absence of transparency has only added to the fear of families and advocates, fueling calls for direct inspections and continuous oversight.
But the impact of these detentions stretches far beyond those who are detained inside. The collateral harm is deeply experienced by families particularly children who bring loved ones to court, only to have them suddenly arrested or worse, suddenly removed. The emotional impact is significant. Mixed-status children live in a state of persistent anticipatory fear, anxiously anticipating that any routine day might lead to detention or deportation of a loved one. Studies indicate that anxiety of this sort can result in school absenteeism, emotional distress, and even long-term mental illness such as PTSD and depression. One national study found that U.S.-born youth whose families had a deported or detained parent were linked with increased risk for suicidal thoughts, externalizing behavior, and alcohol use.
Mental health professionals characterize the trauma experienced by these families as both long-term. The constant danger of separation together with the anxiety of working in a vague legal climate can undermine emotional safety and endanger healthy development for children. For example, authors such as Dr. Lisa Fortuna propose trauma-informed, culture-focused, and community-partnered interventions that allow for healing and resilience. This encompasses not just access to mental health services but also the strengthening of protective relationships, cultural tradition, and social connections that assist families in responding to adversity.
Legal activists, however, keep demanding greater responsibility and openness. Recently enacted in New York State, the Protect Our Courts Act seeks to protect individuals from ICE arrests while going to court, in recognition of the chilling effect enforcement has caused on access to justice. Still, continued denials of congressional investigation and continued courthouse arrests speak to the imperative for systemic reform.
With enforcement growing stronger, families and activists must walk a landscape of uncertainty and fear. Amidst such adversity, however, community groups, lawyers, and mental health professionals are at the frontlines of providing support, fighting for reform, and assuring those affected that they are not alone. The fight for dignity, transparency, and decent treatment persists one family, one hearing, and one story at a time.
