Detained children often wait months, even years, for a decision. Those nearing their 18th birthday face the added terror of being transferred to adult detention. We should be moving heaven and earth to protect them, not letting them fall through the cracks of our system.”
By Juliana Manzanarez | Via Law Group
There’s no such thing as a typical day in immigration law. One morning, I might be preparing a legal brief; by afternoon, I might explain asylum law to a family and help them understand their legal choices, create educational material that my clients can take with them, or meet a person or a kid in detention. The law never stops moving — and neither do the lives it touches.
I’ve had the privilege and heartbreak of representing children in deportation proceedings. Some arrived alone. Others were separated from their parents or caregivers. Many had endured violence, exploitation or neglect in their home countries. They are resilient, but resilience should not be a prerequisite for basic dignity.
Internationally, the United National Convention on the Rights of the Child — ratified by every country except the U.S. — recognizes children’s rights in sweeping terms. The CRC affirms that every child has the right to life, development, family unity and protection from harm. Most crucially, it declares that children have the right to be safe, happy and heard.
In the U.S., our legal commitments fall short of those ideals. Plyler v. Doe (1982) guaranteed all children access to public education, regardless of immigration status. The Court rightly warned that denying education “imposes a lifetime of hardship.” But that compassion vanishes once these same children walk into immigration court.
Unlike criminal proceedings, immigration cases are civil, which means children have no right to a government-appointed attorney. They are expected to navigate a complex legal system in a language they may not understand, applying rules even most adults struggle to grasp. The stakes couldn’t be higher: a lost case could mean deportation to danger, or permanent separation from loved ones.
I once represented a child under 10 years old. In court, they gripped my arm for reassurance. That moment — utterly human and utterly unjust — reminded me how ill-equipped our system is to handle children with the care they deserve.
These aren’t rare occurrences. A 2024 report from the Houston Chronicle documented 36 out of 37 unaccompanied children in one courtroom without legal counsel — the youngest just 6 years old. And earlier this year, the Arizona Mirror reported that a freeze in federal funding threatened legal aid for 26,000 unaccompanied minors nationwide. Without intervention, thousands could be forced to face court alone.
It’s worth repeating: children with attorneys are five times more likely to win protection. But access to counsel remains profoundly unequal. According to the American Immigration Council, only about half of unaccompanied children have lawyers by the time their cases conclude.
Legislation like the Fair Day in Court for Kids Act, reintroduced in Congress, seeks to guarantee legal representation for children. This isn’t just about legal fairness — it’s about moral responsibility. No child should be treated as a file number. No child should be expected to carry the weight of a legal battle meant for adults.
Children are not equipped to act as their own advocates. The legal hurdles they face—complex asylum requirements, documentation for Special Immigrant Juvenile Status or navigating the rules around detention — are difficult even for adults. Expecting a child to manage them alone is not just inefficient; it’s inhumane.
We must also embrace trauma-informed practices. Children process fear and uncertainty differently from adults. Many don’t have the vocabulary — or the emotional safety — to describe what they’ve endured. In my cases, I’ve relied on creative communication, outside experts and patience. And still, it’s never easy.
Detained children often wait months, even years, for a decision. Those nearing their 18th birthday face the added terror of being transferred to adult detention. We should be moving heaven and earth to protect them, not letting them fall through the cracks of our system.
We already have guiding principles in place. The “best interests of the child” is a standard recognized in family courts, international law and child welfare systems. But it’s rarely applied in immigration courts. That must change. Specialized children’s dockets, trained advocates and trauma-informed judges should be the norm, not the exception.
The U.S. cannot claim to be a defender of human rights while forcing children to defend themselves in court. It’s time our policies reflect not just our laws but our values.
Let them be children. Let them be safe. And above all, let them be heard — with someone standing beside them.
To truly protect immigrant children, we must ensure that no child ever stands alone in immigration court again. It’s not just a legal imperative — it’s a moral one.
Editor’s note: Juliana Manzanarez is an immigration attorney and founder of Via Law Group in Phoenix. She also assists with legal advice for the Proyecto Progreso - Tus Derechos campaign.Please send your comments to AzOpinions@iniusa.org. We are committed to publishing a wide variety of reader opinions, as long as they meet our Civility Guidelines.
