The Visible and Invisible Violence of a New Immigration Expedited Removal Process

By Fatema Juhra, Julia del Olmo Parrado and Kelly Nilan

As students in Dr. Rebecca Galemba's Qualitative Research Methods course, we partnered with the Colorado Asylum Center and the Rocky Mountain Immigrant Advocacy Network (RMIAN) to research the Family Expedited Removal Management (FERM) program. Under this program, families are apprehended at the U.S. border and subject to rigorous surveillance and rapid asylum screening. We conducted interviews with attorneys and advocacy groups and collaborated with the University of Denver's Sturm College of Law to understand FERM. Our research focused on how resource availability and community dynamics impact FERM. Announced by the Biden administration in May 2023 as an alternative to detention, FERM allows families to stay together while pursuing their immigration cases. 

In existing literature, FERM is seen as discriminatory and punitive, as the process increases the likelihood of failure in asylum-seeking for families. Run by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), families have one week after arrival to complete the credible fear” interview that determines their eligibility for asylum. If the interview result is negative, they have another week to request a review by an immigration judge. If the hearing is unsuccessful, they must report for deportation within seven days. Families could be potentially deported within 20-30 days of arrival. Additionally, FERM requires the head of household to wear an ankle monitor, abide by a “home curfew, and be constantly surveilled through a smartphone app.  

The FERM program’s problems, including rushed timelines, surveillance via ankle monitors, and lack of time to find legal assistance for asylum cases – only 2.6% in FERM families have access to legal counseling – are well-identified, but a new system requires additional scrutiny. Our preliminary observations and interviews with attorneys have uncovered more factors contributing to obstacles for passing the credible fear interview (CFI).  

Why is this interview process so complex?  

For one, it is a rushed timeline in a period when families must focus on finding food and housing. Secondly, interviews to evaluate the source of persecution in their home countries are conducted over the phone (this may be in-person depending on the city and office) at the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) office. Families in FERM must answer asylum officers' questions through interpreters, often without legal services or counseling of their own. The National Immigrant Justice Centre (NIJC) describes this process as dehumanizing and undermining fairness, and criticizes it as a means to rapidly deport families. 

Despite our university’s backing, we could not easily access interviews or observe FERM cases. Our group conducted five interviews, four of which mentioned having no experience with FERM cases. We observed Denver’s immigration court but were unable to access a FERM case until week eight of the 10-week quarter. This lack of transparency made us more inquisitive about the process. Families in FERM are difficult to find, and their hearings are often scheduled at the last minute.  

We were only able to reach one FERM case during our research through our community partner, Rocky Mountain Immigrant Advocacy Network (RMIAN). RMIAN was notified about this case just two days before it occurred. This case – along with the insights we gained from interviews with experts and available information – highlights the inherent violence and lack of accountability within the FERM process. Compounding a migrant’s vulnerability is the threat of violence or persecution if they return to their home countries, the expedited timeline for their cases, and the secrecy that surrounds them. This process not only places them on an accelerated and stressful path, but also renders them invisible, even to those actively seeking to help.  

In the case we encountered, a woman had recently made a perilous journey from Colombia to the United States, fleeing the violence she was facing there. Her exhaustion was palpable, not only from the threats she shared of escaping Colombia but also from her experiences within the FERM process. This case serves as a microcosm of the broader issues at play, underscoring the urgent need for transparency and accountability in how these cases are overseen. 

Upon arrival, her CFI was conducted over the phone at the border. She had to briefly recount the traumatic details of National Liberation Army (ELN) soldiers killing family members in front of her and her child. During our interview with the attorney, we learned the woman omitted crucial details, such as being part of the LGBTQ+ community, which is stigmatized in Colombia and unknown to her daughter. This was significant, as she faced threats due to her identity. Translation issues complicated the interview further, as the translator repeated questions louder instead of rephrasing them. After a negative decision, the woman had to request a judicial review to retell her story to a judge, who would decide whether to grant her legal status in the U.S. or confirm her removal. 

Due to FERM monitoring guidelines, the woman had to wear an ankle monitor, abide by a curfew, and regularly upload selfies via a required smartphone app. She expressed to our community partner that the ankle monitor was bulky, uncomfortable, and required frequent charging. She recalled a night when the battery malfunctioned, requiring an ICE officer to visit to replace it, which was burdensome.  Unfamiliar with the American legal system, she assumed a lawyer would be provided, but she had to find her own representation. Hiring an attorney is expensive. Pro bono options are available, but they are limited and overwhelmed with clients. RMIAN was notified of her judicial review only two days before the hearing, further complicating her ability to find representation. 

The day we went to the court to observe, the woman was scheduled for her negative credible fear review (NCFR), where she would once again share her fear of persecution, this time in a courtroom. She had her child with her and the court had not scheduled a Spanish interpreter because her hearing had been scheduled on such short notice. Our community partner recommended that she ask for a continuance so she would have access to an interpreter, could better prepare for her case, and find someone to watch her child. She reluctantly agreed. She was so exhausted by the process that she just wanted it to be over. Her NCFR was moved to the following week. We wanted to observe the hearing and were told by our community partner that we may be able to, but we did not receive notice.  

Though we followed just this one case, it exceptionally demonstrated Bridget Haas’s concept of the ‘violence of in/visibility’, where “the choice is between enrolling in a program about which one is given little or no information or being detained by ICE.” (Haas, 2023). The woman, who did not know much about the U.S. legal system, was unaware she could have found someone to care for child so the CFI could proceed in private. Given that she wanted to proceed without an interpreter that day, we relate this case with other cases described by Haas where families are exhausted due to the criminalization and humiliation they are subjected to because of having to use ankle monitors (Haas, 2023). In this case, Haas explains, the ankle monitor is “a material object” with the “symbolic meaning of alterity and criminality.” The ankle monitor caused problems with her blood circulation in her ankle. It symbolically reminded her of her sense of “otherness” in the country to which she fled. Through her case, we questioned: Why is the legal process designed like this? Is it so complex on purpose?  

Our group posed these questions while conducting interviews with attorneys, and they opened layers of discussion on the whole immigration system being racialized. Where is the violence behind the ‘in/visibility’ of this issue? The violence is in giving asylum officers power to deport a family when it does not understand the process or the interpretations. Through the case we observed what has Haas argues as the continuum of violence that asylum seekers endure. The rushed processing timeline, a lack of access to legal counseling, and the process of conducting CFIs reveal the bureaucratic stronghold the U.S. legal system has over migrants.  

From an attorney, we learned about another case. During her CFI, a mother enrolled in FERM was forced to share the violence she experienced in her home country – a gang rape – in front of her 9-year-old son. This shows the harm perpetuated by a lack of information and logistical support for a mother to find childcare for her son while she went to court. 

Thus, the ‘violence of in/visibility’ dehumanizes and criminalizes immigrants by forcing them to wear ankle monitors for surveillance, asking vulnerable questions in front of their children, and hiding legal tools that create the perception of being a “illegal alien.” Reforming the system by giving families early legal counseling could address bureaucratic violence and minimize the harm. Moreover, stress management and bias training should be required for immigration agency officials – specifically those conducting CFIs. FERM requires a more humane approach. Otherwise, it will continue to discriminate against immigrants in the carceral state system.

 

Fatema Juhra is a Master’s graduate in Public Policy from the Josef Korbel School of International Studies in the University of Denver. Currently, she is working as a faculty of International Relations at Bangladesh University of Professionals (BUP) in Bangladesh. As a J. William Fulbright Fellow, Fatema aspires to work more on the carceral state system and racial migration policy. 

Julia del Olmo is a Master’s graduate in International Human Rights with a certification in Humanitarian Assistance. After earning her degree from the Josef Korbel School of International Studies in June 2024, Julia continued her humanitarian work at the International Rescue Committee (IRC), where she supports refugees and asylum seekers in their journey toward self-sufficiency, specializing in housing and casework.  

Kelly Nilan is a graduate student at the Josef Korbel School of International Studies in the University of Denver. She is perusing her Master's degree in Public Policy with a specialization in social policy. She is currently an intern at the City of Denver on a project that aims to reduce stigma towards people who use drugs and has continued research on the FERM program under the guidance of Dr. Rebecca Galemba.