Advocates warn LGBTQ immigrants in ICE detention—many of them Latino—are being exposed to violence, medical neglect, and erased protections
The abuse of LGBTQ+ people in U.S. immigration detention did not begin with Donald Trump. But advocates say policies enacted during his administration—and revived or reinforced in its return—have dramatically intensified the danger for one of the system’s most vulnerable populations.
On his first day back in office, Trump signed executive orders instructing federal agencies to eliminate references to “gender ideology,” effectively requiring the government to define people strictly by the sex assigned at birth. Among the immediate consequences was the revocation of the 2015 Transgender Care Memorandum, a policy designed to address long-documented systemic failures affecting transgender people in immigration detention, including medical neglect, sexual violence, and improper housing.
For LGBTQ+ immigrants—many fleeing violence in Latin America—those decisions have had life-altering consequences.
“With the rapid expansion of immigration detention centers and the elimination of oversight mechanisms under the Trump administration, this dangerous system is worsening exponentially,” said Bridget Crawford, director of law and policy at Immigration Equality, the national advocacy organization for LGBTQ+ and HIV-positive immigrants.
Oversight Blocked, Abuse Reported
Immigration Equality says its ability to monitor conditions has been sharply curtailed. Crawford told EL PAÍS that the organization was denied access to the area where transgender detainees are held at a detention center in Aurora, Colorado, allegedly due to unspecified “security concerns.”
At the same time, calls to the group’s detention hotline have surged.
In recent months, Immigration Equality has documented a significant increase in reports from LGBTQ+ detainees describing:
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Sexual assaults that were ignored or inadequately investigated
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Physical violence and threats from other detainees
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Delays or denial of HIV treatment and hormone therapy
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Unsanitary living conditions and prolonged isolation
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Lack of food and barriers to accessing legal counsel
“These are not isolated incidents,” Crawford said. “They are systemic.”
A Venezuelan Asylum Seeker’s Story
At his parents’ home in Táchira, Venezuela, stylist Andry Hernández Romero recalls the humiliation and fear he endured inside the Otay Mesa detention center in San Diego.
Other detainees mocked him relentlessly for having undergone buttock augmentation surgery.
“They told me I had a big ass, that I was a woman, that I should get breast implants,” Romero said. “They used that to discriminate against me. They looked at me strangely because I’m effeminate.”
Romero entered the United States last year through an appointment scheduled via the CBP One app, expecting to seek asylum. Instead, he was immediately taken into ICE custody.
“In a detention center, your sexual orientation becomes everything,” he said. “They told me I had to behave. I was the only gay man in a cell of more than 100 people.”
He says he was housed alongside people convicted of violent crimes.
“I kept asking myself, ‘What am I doing here if I haven’t committed any crime?’”
Labeled a Gang Member—Then Disappeared
Despite no criminal conviction, U.S. authorities accused Romero of being affiliated with Tren de Aragua, the Venezuelan criminal organization that has become a frequent target of Trump administration rhetoric.
In mid-March, Romero was among more than 200 Venezuelans transferred to El Salvador, despite a judge’s order barring the move. The administration invoked the 1798 Enemy Aliens Act, an obscure wartime statute rarely used in modern immigration enforcement.
Romero was sent to CECOT, El Salvador’s infamous Terrorism Confinement Center, where conditions were even harsher.
“The guards themselves told me I had to marry one of them to get Salvadoran citizenship,” he said. “They discriminated against me even more than before.”
Latino, LGBTQ+, and Trapped Between Systems
Advocates say Romero’s experience reflects a broader pattern affecting LGBTQ+ migrants from Latin America, particularly those who are transgender or gender-nonconforming. Many flee violence at home only to encounter new forms of abuse inside U.S. detention—now compounded by policies that erase their identities altogether.
By dismantling protections and restricting oversight, critics argue, the Trump administration has created a detention system where abuse is easier to hide and harder to challenge.
For LGBTQ+ Latino migrants, the result is a grim paradox: seeking refuge in the United States can mean entering a system that places them in even greater danger—physically, medically, and psychologically.
As immigration detention continues to expand, advocates warn that without accountability, these stories will multiply—out of sight, but not without consequence.
