'I Don't Want To Be in This Place:' Would You Read These Letters from Children Detained at ICE Facilities?
Behind the cold walls, children's voices demand recognition and compassion.

On a chilly January morning, a young girl's crayon appears alongside a handwritten plea: 'I have been here too long.'
It's a stark, heartbreaking reminder that behind the walls of the Dilley Immigration Processing Center in Texas, children are grappling with a reality far removed from childhood's innocence. Their words and drawings simple yet profound offer a rare, unfiltered glimpse into lives overshadowed by confinement, fear, and longing.
While the US often boasts about its commitment to human rights and due process, the truth lurking in places like Dilley feels more like a quiet crisis. In early February, over 750 families nearly half of them children were held at this single facility. It's the only detention centre in the country specifically designed to hold families, but that fact alone hints at a broader and troubling trend: the number of children detained by ICE has surged sixfold since the Trump administration's tough-on-immigration policies took hold.
These children are not faceless statistics. They are real kids, caught in a system that often seems indifferent to their pain.
Will you read their stories?
ProPublica's recent publication of their letters reveals a side of the immigration debate that is seldom seen. Eight children, all of whom had been living in the US before their detention, shared their stories through words and pictures of a childhood interrupted.
You can find the original letters here.
'I have been 50 days in Dilley Immigration Processing Center. And I want to go to my country. But I miss my school and friends, I feel bad since when I came here to this place, because I have been here too long.'
- Susej, 9 years old
'Since I got to this Center all you will feel is sadness and mostly depression.'
- Ariana, 14 years old
'I don't want to be in this place I want to go to my school.'
- Mia, 7 years old
'I feel so much sadness and depression of not being able to leave, its really sad to hear that peoples cases are being denied and getting send back to their countrys.'
- Gabby, 14 years old
They write of missing their schools and friends, of missing family, bland food, etc. Their drawings are simple but evocative depict rainbows, hearts, family portraits, and at times, stark symbols of loneliness.
'A system that claims care'
The Department of Homeland Security (DHS), which oversees ICE, insists that detainees at Dilley receive proper medical care, three meals a day, clean water, and access to teachers and educational materials.
A DHS spokesperson highlighted the availability of certified dieticians and educational curricula, attempting to paint a picture of stability amidst chaos.
But for the children who penned those letters, the assurances feel distant almost meaningless. Their words reveal a narrative of neglect and uncertainty. They miss their homes, their routines, their loved ones. Some have fallen sick more often than they can count, yet many describe feeling ignored or powerless in the face of their circumstances.
Inside the silence: what these letters uncover
The process of collecting these letters by reporter Mica Rosenberg was delicate. They knew these artefacts would travel beyond the prison walls, an act of quiet rebellion.
What is striking is how candid the children are, sometimes painfully so. They do not sugarcoat their experiences; instead, their words act as a mirror held up to a system that often seems deaf to their suffering.
One letter, penned by a child, simply states, 'I don't want to be here anymore.' Another, from a boy, lists his symptoms with the innocence of someone who has seen too much, yet still longs for normality.
While some of these children have since been released, the uncertainty remains for many others. Their stories are not isolated incidents but part of a broader, systemic issue that cannot be ignored.
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