Safety for Whom?
Hi!
As we mentioned last month, we’re going to spend this issue highlighting connections between immigration and the criminal legal system. Perhaps the most prominent overlap between these systems is the increasingly large role that local police play in immigration enforcement. Since the beginning of the year, the Department of Homeland Security has signed more than 300 new 287(g) agreements, which allow state and local policing agencies to perform certain functions of federal immigration agents. The Attorney General has threatened to withhold federal funding from jurisdictions that limit their cooperation with ICE. And let’s not forget that the deportation of Kilmar Abrego Garcia was kicked off by an arrest that resulted in no criminal charges by a since-suspended local police officer in Maryland.
But policing isn’t the only connection between the immigration and criminal legal systems. Both feature heavily in the way politicians talk about, and the way the public conceives of, public safety. We unpack what we think is missing from these conversations below.
BUT, before we dive in, we wanted to share a few new resources. The Center for Just Journalism added a new section to the issue brief on changes to the criminal legal system under Trump 2.0 to include new reporting guidance on the role of local police in immigration enforcement— with data, sources, and story ideas. And tomorrow at noon ET, we’re hosting a panel to mark Trump’s first 100 days back in office (yes, somehow, we’re already here). Our panel will dig into the quieter but deeply consequential shifts in criminal legal policy that have been eclipsed by all the other stuff going on, but deserve media coverage too. Hannah will be moderating a conversation with Alejandro Fernandez, a federal public defender; Jessica Pishko, attorney, journalist, and expert on sheriffs; and Wanda Bertram, communications strategist from the Prison Policy Initiative. You can register here.
Safety for Whom?
What counts as a crime—and who gets labeled a criminal—has never been neutral.
Crime is an inherently political, and often arbitrary, concept. Politicians decide what’s a crime and what’s not, and in doing so, they decide who is punished, who is protected, and who is pushed out. These choices shape everything from who gets arrested to who gets deported. And they’re always shifting.
We see this happening all around us right now. Marrying someone of a different race used to be illegal, and obviously it’s not anymore. Abortion was legal, but now, in many places, it’s a crime. Sleeping on public land, feeding unhoused people, and even protesting are being criminalized in new ways.
This same fuzziness applies to the politically freighted term “public safety.” The official justification for immigrant detention is that it’s necessary to keep Americans safe. This argument has been pretty thoroughly debunked by lots of research showing that immigration doesn’t drive crime (see a couple of examples here and here) and that immigration enforcement drives down several measures of community safety and wellbeing. This raises the question: when we talk about safety, we have to ask: safety for whom?
Crimes Inside Detention Centers
Detention centers, like other prisons and jails in America, are rife with abuse. The thefts, assaults, rapes, and murders that happen in prisons, jails, and detention centers are rarely included in the national crime rate, which serves as the dominant measure of public safety in the U.S.
This 2012 N+1 piece by Christopher Glazek contains a paragraph that has long stuck with us:
“...The Justice Department finally released an estimate of the prevalence of sexual abuse in penitentiaries… After asking around, and performing some calculations, the Justice Department came up with a new number: 216,000. That’s 216,000 victims, not instances… The Justice Department now seems to be saying that prison rape accounted for the majority of all rapes committed in the US in 2008, likely making the United States the first country in the history of the world to count more rapes for men than for women.1”
There’s been lots of great reporting on the experiences of people in immigration detention, from staff violence to medical neglect and unsafe conditions, and we hope to see more during this time of rising detention rates. It’s probably worth mentioning that this kind of reporting is going to get harder for many reasons, among them that DHS has recently gutted three watchdog agencies that advocated for the rights of immigrants, particularly those being detained. There also might be a decrease in reports of various abuses, generally, due to fear of retaliation. But it’s not impossible to report on these issues. Here are a few ideas for where to start:
FOIA the DHS Office of Civil Rights and Civil Liberties (CRCL) complaints, OIG reports, and incident reports or medical logs from ICE, local jails, or private contractors. As noted above, CRCL is essentially non-existent now, as are the Office of the Immigration Detention Ombudsman and the Office of the Citizenship and Immigration Services Ombudsman. Depending on the state, you can also sometimes obtain facility inspection reports through state agencies (especially when detention centers are county-run jails contracted by ICE). You can also look through ICE’s PREA audit reports of individual facilities.
Look at the lawsuits. Civil complaints filed in court by victims often include harrowing, detailed allegations. Class-action suits or filings in immigration court may also reference systemic abuses.
Check in with advocacy groups and legal clinics. Freedom for Immigrants, Detention Watch Network, National Immigration Law Center, Texas Civil Rights Project, Project South, National Immigrant Justice Center and others often collect testimonies, investigate complaints, and publish reports. These organizations may also help you connect with current or formerly detained individuals willing to speak to journalists.
Talk to the people who have been caged in these facilities. Interviewing people released from detention is often the most direct way to uncover abuse. You can build relationships with deportation defense organizations, bail funds, or immigrant justice groups that support people after their release. Take a trauma-informed approach, and do everything you can to ensure safety and confidentiality.
Collateral Damage in the Community
Immigration enforcement doesn’t just impact the individuals who are detained or deported—it alters the safety, health, and stability of entire communities. Fear of deportation can push people into the shadows and away from the support systems they need, which has a negative impact on public safety for immigrants and citizens alike. When people don’t report workplace abuse or get preventable illnesses treated, everyone in the community suffers more as a result. Here’s where journalists can dig in:
Workplace Exploitation. Undocumented workers are especially vulnerable to wage theft, unsafe working conditions, and employer retaliation. Investigate labor complaints through local labor boards, OSHA violations, and legal aid organizations. Look into industries with high concentrations of undocumented labor—like agriculture, construction, domestic work, and meatpacking—for patterns of systemic abuse. Connect with worker centers and immigrant labor organizers. This might seem daunting because undocumented people are in general less likely to report these violations out of fear, but we’ve seen great examples from Investigate Midwest, Washington Post, The Guardian, and In These Times (all linked above.)
Public Health Gaps. Fear of detention or deportation – or just general distrust of the government – keeps people from seeking healthcare. Look at local clinic usage data, public health department reports, and FOIA records related to “public charge” policy impacts. Compare outcomes from places that allow Medicaid coverage for immigrants versus those that don’t. Interview healthcare providers about service declines after immigration raids or policy shifts, especially in maternal and mental health services.
Housing Insecurity. Landlords often exploit tenants’ immigration status, counting on fear to avoid scrutiny. Examine code enforcement complaints in immigrant neighborhoods, cases of illegal eviction, and civil court data. Talk to tenants' rights groups and legal aid lawyers working on housing issues. Again, fear of reporting is a real thing, but advocates and attorneys will be of use here.
Barriers in Schools. We’ve seen reports across the country of school attendance declines in the wake of increased immigration enforcement. Track attendance data in your community, identify school districts that fail to enroll or support undocumented students, and ask your sources how fear of deportation affects mental health, graduation rates, or college access. Interview educators and immigrant youth advocates. Pay attention to the role of school police in immigration enforcement.
What We’ve Been Reading
This CJR piece documents a powerful example of local journalists holding power to account in real time. It follows reporters at Denver’s 9News covering a highly publicized ICE operation, revealing a pretty big gap between official claims and on-the-ground reality. The CJR piece captures not just the facts (way fewer arrests than announced, little evidence of “gang ties”) but also the broader context: the growing pressure on journalists who cover immigration enforcement critically.
This is a very cool project – both exposing the disturbing political erasure of critical climate data and actively working to counter it. By resurrecting FEMA’s deleted Future Risk Index, The Guardian isn’t just reporting on the Trump administration’s censorship, it’s restoring access to critical, potentially life-saving information. The FEMA tool, which was deleted after Trump won, helps communities plan for real risks like flooding, wildfires, and extreme heat.
The New York Times is doing some great solutions journalism with 50 States, 50 Fixes – highlighting bulwarks against the worst impacts of the climate crisis in each state.
That’s all for now — see y’all next month.
To be clear, only about a quarter of women report sexual assaults to the police, which means the data is already not at all representative of what’s actually happening.