ALVARADO — Patricio Galera wants to be deported.
Sitting inside the Prairieland Detention Center in Alvarado, the 27-year-old Chilean man didn’t think his May 27 court date in Dallas would lead to his detention. Tears rolled down his cheeks, as he spoke with a Dallas Morning News reporter in an empty room. By this June 4 interview, Galera had already spent more than a week in Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s detention.
He felt miserable, saying the food was horrible and the mattress was thin. Calls to his wife cost money, so he has to be measured on how often he reaches out.
“I don’t know what to do and I don’t know what’s going to happen to me,” he said in Spanish. “I need this nightmare to end.”
Galera previously lived in Dallas with his family. Now, he is one of 27 men since May 22 whom reporters with The News have witnessed being detained by plainclothes federal agents at the Dallas immigration court, after having their cases dismissed.
These arrests are part of a pattern of enforcement actions happening in immigration courtrooms across the country, as the Trump istration seeks to ramp up expedited removal and follow through on a campaign promise of mass deportation of undocumented immigrants.
Expedited removal allows immigration officers to deport migrants without the usual process of appearing before an immigration judge, according to the American Immigration Council. Those who arrived within the past two years are subject to this process, the Department of Homeland Security has previously stated.
The istration’s aggressive deportation effort, especially the use of expedited removals, has spurred protests across the country. In Los Angeles, days of mostly peaceful protests have attracted some acts of violence and vandalism, prompting President Donald Trump to deploy the National Guard and U.S. Marines over the objections of California’s Democratic governor.
In Dallas, an anti-ICE protest near downtown on Monday led to the arrest of a man accused of assaulting a police officer. Dallas police say it was the only arrest at the protest, which drew hundreds of people.
Proponents of the istration’s latest deportation strategy said it will send a message that there are consequences to breaking the law.
“I think it’s necessary to expand expedited removal, to use whatever discretionary powers that the istration has, to put some teeth back in the law,” said Simon Hankinson, a senior research fellow for the Heritage Foundation’s border security and immigration center.
The operation has drawn criticism from advocates and immigration attorneys, who worry it will lead people to not show up for their immigration court hearings for fear of arrest. Priscilla Olivarez, a senior policy attorney with the Immigrant Legal Resource Center, believes it’s an unfair tactic to deport individuals that may have credible asylum claims.
The arrests can also have consequences for those who are left behind. Galera’s wife, who asked not to be identified for fear of retaliation, doesn’t speak English and largely relied on his income. Now, she’s struggling to stay afloat while trying to navigate the immigration system without a lawyer.
“It’s not only heartbreaking,” Olivarez said, “but it’s infuriating to see what they’re doing to our communities and what they’re doing to these families.”
A spokesman for ICE did not respond to questions Monday.
‘You have to be responsible’
On the days leading up to his hearing on May 27, Galera was filled with doubt.
He had heard about the arrests at the Dallas immigration court, which had been happening for almost a week by that point. At stake was also the new life that he had just built from scratch for his family.
Galera and his wife, who is from Colombia, first met and got married in Chile. He said they decided to move north after facing persecution in the country.
After travelling through several countries by bus and plane, they arrived in the United States in February 2024. Eventually, the couple — along with his wife’s sister and her son — settled into a one-bedroom apartment in Dallas, where some slept on an inflatable mattress. Galera found construction work, bringing in most of the income to them.
His wife insisted he follow the process correctly: “You have to be responsible.”
So on that Tuesday morning, Galera was sitting in Courtroom 6 in front of Judge Dietrich Sims without representation. He resolved to push the arrests out of his mind, planning to grab breakfast with his family after the hearing at the McDonald’s across the street from the Earle Cabell Federal Building.
Shortly after the hearing started, the government attorney moved to dismiss his immigration case. In a subsequent back-and-forth interaction with Sims, Galera appeared confused and nervously asked several questions.
“Honestly, I don’t understand this very well,” the interpreter translated at one point.
Eventually, Galera exited the courtroom. Two plainclothes agents followed him and held him by his arms as they walked him down the hallway. “Like a criminal,” he later recalled. At the same time, he strained to look back and communicate with his wife, who was following behind with a stunned look on her face. “Honey, stay calm, everything is going to be OK,” he tried to tell her.
Nearby, some people filmed the incident with their cellphones and called out to the agents. “Don’t be mean to him. Are you ICE or are you Proud Boys?” a woman said.
As the agents turned the corner and led Galera through a set of double doors, his wife tried to follow them. “Private area,” an agent told her before closing the doors.
Galera’s cries could be heard through the barrier. Then, they went quiet.
‘I’m in hell’
Galera said he would rather face danger in Chile than continue staying at Prairieland.
His mattress is an inch thick. His pillow is a roll of toilet paper. His shower is often scalding hot. He finds the food awful. His back constantly hurts.
“I’m in hell,” he said.
There are two televisions in his unit tuned to Telemundo, a Spanish-language network, for most of the day. When immigration news comes on, he said, the guards change the channel.
Galera said he spends his days talking with other people in detention. It’s not clear if he ever made with those who were also detained at the Dallas immigration court. Of the 27 men whom The News witnessed being arrested, more than half were sent to Prairieland, according to online records.
The remainder went to other detention facilities in North Texas, Oklahoma and Louisiana.
Galera questioned why federal agents are going after people like him who are showing up to their immigration court hearings instead of just those with criminal records.
Prior to being detained, he had been arrested once since arriving in the United States. According to records from Polk County, Fla., he faced a battery charge — a first-degree misdemeanor in the state — following an altercation with a roommate. The case eventually was dropped, records show, and he and his wife told The News it was self-defense.
The News ran his name through a public records database as well as federal and county court records — including for Dallas and four other metropolitan areas where he said he had worked — but didn’t find cases in these areas.
“Because I decided to do things right,” he said, “they came out worse.”
On June 10, Galera was moved to a detention facility in Oklahoma. He was still there as of Saturday noon, according to online records.
‘I just feel guilty’
Galera’s detention has left his wife adrift.
Eight days after he was detained at court, she received an eviction notice. She works at a factory and her sister paints houses, trying to stay afloat. It hasn’t worked. They owe $1,146.
She is desperately trying to find answers for her husband’s case, but has struggled to find an attorney to help them. Through it all, she battles the regret for telling him to attend court that day.
“I just feel guilty for convincing him to go,” she said.
She worries for her own safety, too. She has an immigration court date scheduled for October and fears she will be arrested just like her husband. She’s constantly nervous and wary of her surroundings. She doesn’t answer the door when a stranger knocks, afraid it will be an ICE officer.
She wonders if it’s worth staying in the United States or if they should leave the country. Going back to Chile or Colombia, where she is from, is out of the question.
Over the weekend, she left her apartment and stayed with a friend.
She plans to head to Florida soon.
