Belinda* walks through her favorite park in Phoenix, a community she has called home for many years. She looks pensive while pausing on a footbridge, and she smiles by a tree that is not native to Arizona, but with care has thrived here, nonetheless.
“I love superhero movies, and I wished I had a superpower in certain moments of my life,” Belinda says. “All I have is my voice.” She hopes to raise awareness for what it’s like to be detained by immigration authorities. “That’s my superpower.”
Several years ago, Belinda worked as a hairstylist in Casa Grande, Arizona, until one day, an illness overwhelmed her on a night out with friends. Someone called an ambulance, and the emergency escalated into a crisis when law enforcement responded. Belinda was placed in immigration removal proceedings because she is a noncitizen.
“I believe all humans deserve respect, whether we’re trans, gay, men, women—we’re human beings,” Belinda says. She experienced verbal abuse from facility guards, she says. As a transgender woman, Belinda felt unsafe incarcerated in the men’s facility and at one point she was assaulted. Allegedly for her protection, Belinda was placed in solitary confinement. Transgender women are often put into segregation, punishing them rather than the people who victimize or harass them.
Suddenly, the sensitive woman whose favorite activity was to chat with customers at the salon found herself isolated and trapped. “They call it ‘the hole,’” Belinda recalls. “I was crying and asking God to get me out of there. I figured they would send me to my country. Not once did I think I would be like I am now, outside.”
Belinda struggled with the uncertainty about how long she would be detained. “For your sanity, you have to know those facts,” she says. Over time, Belinda’s panic and sorrow transformed into numb despair.
“When you’re detained, what you feel is immense sadness. After feeling this great sadness, there’s a great loneliness. You suffer depression,” Belinda explains. “Eventually, it’s like being submerged in a pool up to your head. You don’t have many thoughts. The few thoughts you do have, realistically, you can’t use because you’re locked up. You bury your feelings in your body and mind, and that makes you very sick.”
Belinda missed being around her loved ones; she migrated to the U.S. with her family many years ago. The minimal access to sunlight, the cold air-conditioned temperature, and mistreatment from guards also affected her.
She passed her time “in tears,” but hid her anguish inside. “I don’t like to be one of those people that shows I’m sad. I cried on the inside. Then when I laid down, I let myself cry. At times I didn’t sleep because I’d been crying. These months, for me, were hard.”
Belinda fantasized that a superhero would rescue her. Empowerment came instead when she connected with a Florence Project attorney who she described as “a light in my life.” Liz Bradley told Belinda about her rights and what types of relief she might qualify for under immigration law.
“It meant a lot to realize there are citizens of this country that support me,” Belinda says. “Liz told me she would fight for me. She looked at my case and told me, ‘We’re going to do everything possible to help you.’
“I thought to myself, ‘I’m going to get out of here.’ I’ve felt better ever since the first day we met and she said, ‘I’m your attorney. I work for the Florence Project.’”
After six months in detention, Belinda was released. But her case remains open, and the Florence Project continues to fight for her in court.
Belinda now works as a custodian. She still cuts her friends’ hair and takes pride in the fact that during her years at the salon, she retained some customers from when they were babies until they were teenagers.
Belinda misses helping people feel confident in their appearance. When she was a child, she didn’t always feel confident, which she relates to her “Super Chica” fandom.
“Wonder Woman is my favorite. Perhaps because my childhood wasn’t pretty, I want to recover what I never felt by watching these types of films.”
Despite the dangers faced by transgender women in Mexico, Belinda can still be deported. She remains resilient and thanks the Florence Project attorneys, legal assistants, social workers, and supporters for their vigorous support.
“All those I’ve met have given me lots of understanding,” she says. “It lifted me out of loneliness, because I was so lonely, not seeing anyone who was close to me. I was alone in a situation that I’d never been in. The Florence Project gave me confidence, peace of mind, and so much strength inside. I’ve believed in them since that moment, and I’m here, look, talking to you now.”
*Pseudonym used to protect privacy.