When immigrant survivors of domestic violence contacted Libby Hasse in a crisis, the attorney had clear advice: Call the police. But when a client called earlier this year to say that her abusive ex-husband was stalking her and sending threatening text messages, Hasse had to think twice. Her client worried that calling the police would mean involving Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers who could detain and deport her. "She's in this situation where she's trying to weigh that risk and the benefit," said Hasse, who works for the Tahirih Justice Center, a national nonprofit that serves domestic violence survivors. "If she calls the police today, are they actually going to be able to do anything against this guy that's stalking her and if not, are they going to be working with ICE?" Hasse and her client aren't the only ones hesitant to call police, appear in court or even go to a domestic violence shelter as the administration of President Donald Trump ramps up its deportation efforts. The Alliance for Immigrant Survivors, a national network of advocates for those hurt by domestic violence, found that 75% of the 170 advocates they surveyed across the country said the immigrants they serve fear they'll face arrest or deportation if they contact authorities. Half of the advocates surveyed in the report said the immigrant survivors they worked with ultimately chose not to contact law enforcement due to fear, and even when they did and proceeded to trial, 70% were concerned about going to court. Additionally, advocates say that fewer women are going to domestic violence shelters after the Trump administration removed them from a list of places protected from ICE enforcement. ICE detained a human trafficking survivor with no criminal record after she spoke to the police, the alliance's report said. It also highlighted a survivor with a broken nose who waited two days to go to the hospital and who filed a police report only after her immigration attorney assured her it would be safe. The number of people calling for help and information has tripled at the Tahirih Justice Center nationally during the first five months of 2025 compared to the same period last year, said Casey Swegman, the center's director of public policy. "They're so afraid to call or go anywhere else," she said. USA TODAY reached out to ICE for comment last week, but an agency spokesman did not respond. Police and ICE:More than 600 local police agencies are partnering with ICE. See if yours is one of them. Some abusers use the fear of increased ICE arrests to keep immigrant survivors from leaving, Swegman said. Recently, the center's Atlanta office got a call from a woman who said that her abuser was threatening to report her to ICE. "Her abuser was saying, 'look at the TV, look at what they're saying, nobody cares about you. I can hurt you and nobody cares,' basically making her feel like if she called the police, he would have the power to get her deported just by pointing a finger at her and saying that she doesn't have lawful immigration status," Swegman said. "We have an entire population of survivors really living in the shadows right now, feeling too scared to come forward." Earlier this month one of Hasse's clients, a domestic violence survivor with six children who are U.S. citizens, was in immigration court for her pending U visa, which protects immigrant victims of violence from deportation during their case. The client saw ICE agents by the elevator when she was leaving the courthouse in Houston, Hasse said, and later in the day, she heard that ICE had detained people in the courthouse. "Every time she walks back into court for her case, that's what she's going to be thinking about, 'Am I going to be detained today? Am I going to be separated from my kids?'" Hasse said. In 2017, just a month after Trump took office for his first term, an undocumented woman who was seeking a protective order against her abuser wasarrested by six ICE agentsoutside the courthouse in El Paso, Texas. The woman was eventually deported. Christina Sanchez, an El Paso County attorney, said the woman's abuser had reported her to ICE and told them that she would be at the courthouse. Since then, Sanchez has seen a decline in protective order cases. When domestic violence survivors don't come forward and work with law enforcement and the courts, Sanchez said it's harder to prosecute the abuser, who could harm other women as well. "I think we all universally can agree that when you report crimes and when you are a victim of a crime that that should be reported," Sanchez said. "When you have individuals that are reporting crimes to law enforcement and are working with law enforcement, it makes our community safer." Across the country, as ICEincreases its presence in courts, officials are grappling with how to protect victims and witnesses from federal agents during their cases. In Harris County, Texas, home to Houston, the district attorney's investigators give witnesses and victims a card with the case number and investigator's phone number. If an ICE agent picks them up, they present the card so the agent can verify that they are important to an ongoing case. Harris County began handing out the cards in March, followinga case in which ICE arrested Carmelo Gonzalez, a witness in his own daughter's murder trial, in early February. He was on a plane to be deported when one of the prosecutors found out about his arrest and contacted ICE to let him go. "We're trying to fight violent crime, and that is going to require ICE taking into account that people they are deporting are not only victims of crimes quite often committed by American citizens upon them, but also they are witnesses in extremely violent felonies," Harris County District Attorney Sean Teare said. "This card is part of that mission to make sure that we are able to do our jobs." Zain Lakhani, director of migrant rights and justice at theWomen's Refugee Commission, said the long backlog ofU visascan take between 10 to 20 years before an immigrant survivor is given protection. While survivors can be protected from ICE while they are in the process of obtaining a U visa, Lakhani said "it's a very arduous process in terms of what you have to demonstrate and what you have to prove in order to get a U visa." The long wait and time for a U-visa can impede a survivor from getting the resources to be able to safely leave an abuse situation and begin rebuilding their lives. "That leaves survivors who are waiting for those visas just anxiously, kind of in the pipeline, not able to really access the benefits that they need in order to rebuild their lives, to protect themselves and their children," Lakhani said. At the same time, the chilling effects of increased ICE presence and arrests in immigrant communities are reaching domestic violence shelters as well. The director of a domestic violence shelter that predominantly helps Hispanic women in El Paso, Texas, said she has seen a 25% decrease in people seeking help since the Trump administration rolled back a Biden administration policy that had barred ICE agents from entering shelters. The director requested not to be named for fear of ICE retaliation. She is worried that survivors are staying in a violent situation because they fear ICE. She also said that 75% of the people her shelter serves are children. "They want to leave the violent situation, but they can't, because they're afraid they're going to lose their children," she said. "Families are being separated or deported. A lot of them were raised here. They've never been to another country, and they don't know what they would do if they were to be deported." She said her shelter has ramped up security and trained staff to identify a valid warrant. Since Trump took office, some domestic violence shelters have also lost funding. Matt Mirarchi, director of operations atEnlace Comunitario, a domestic violence survivor support organization for the Latino and immigrant community in New Mexico, said the shelter lost close to $600,000 in federal funding that helps house up to 30 clients for up to two years. Mirarchi said he also saw a decrease in attendance at the group's prevention classes. "The fear there is very palpable," he said. But Enlace Comunitario isn't pulling back. "We're going to continue to be a resource here locally for immigrant domestic violence survivors and provide them with the tools and resources they need to disclose domestic violence to get the support that they need, and to do so in a way that is safe and effective and confidential for them and their families," Mirarchi said. Fabiola Landeros, an immigration rights organizer atEl Centro de Igualdad y Derechosin Albuquerque, New Mexico, said that to make survivors feel safe coming forward, it is important to separate law enforcement from ICE and make sure the two agencies are not cooperating. She said that collaboration does not exist in Albuquerque, as it has adopted immigrant friendly policies. "When we separate these two systems, people will feel more safe to make those calls to our first responders," Landeros said. "They don't need to be entangled. Any person deserves the right to have a fair process in this justice system, separate from immigration." This article originally appeared on USA TODAY:Immigrant domestic violence survivors avoid police, courts, shelters
