By Rebecca Sheff, Senior Staff Attorney at the ACLU of New Mexico & Zoe Bowman, Supervising Attorney at Las Americas Immigrant Advocacy Center 

Editor’s note: Trigger Warning: this narrative mentions thoughts of self-harm and suicidal ideation. This is the third in a series of stories from inside the Otero County Processing Center, based on interviews conducted in the summer of 2024 by Colorado College students: Alex Reynolds, Sandra Torres, Karen Henriquez Fajardo, and Michelle Ortiz. We are grateful for their invaluable work on this project.

We spoke with Leonel Jose Rivas Gonzalez at the Otero County Processing Center in June 2024. Leonel is one of three men, represented by Las Americas, Center for Constitutional Rights, and the ACLU of New Mexico, who recently petitioned a federal district court to prevent their transfer to Guantánamo. Despite initially obtaining a temporary restraining order enjoining their transfer, Leonel and the other petitioners were deported to Venezuela on February 10, 2025—less than 24 hours after the court order was issued. They were put on the first deportation flights to Venezuela in over a year.

Leonel was born in Venezuela in 1997 and, along with his siblings, was raised by his grandparents after his mother passed away. Growing up, his family would gather to celebrate birthdays and Christmas together.

Leonel described himself as a “salsero” who enjoys dancing and sports, though he emphasized that more than anything, “I liked to study.” His dream of becoming a businessman led him to study sales and management. What he talked about loving most was “playing with my daughter” and his simple wish for “Un buen vivir”—a good life. 

“I feel kidnapped…
Sometimes I could not stop crying,”

Leonel entered the US in December 2023 and was taken into ICE custody. An immigration judge ordered his deportation in March 2024. Months later, he was still detained in Otero, even though there were no deportation flights from the US to Venezuela due to the diplomatic breakdown between the two countries.

“I feel kidnapped,” Leonel told us. 

He found the arbitrary rules at Otero dehumanizing: “You can’t even put your hand on another detainee’s shoulder without the guards coming at you. They see everything as bad.” 

Leonel and other immigrants held in Otero were placed in solitary confinement as punishment for participating in a hunger strike protesting conditions at the Otero facility and ICE not responding to their release requests. 

He spent 45 days in solitary. During this ordeal, “I thought about cutting my wrists,” he confessed, “but thinking about my [partner] and daughter gave me strength.” The guards sometimes “shut their windows,” intensifying his anxiety. “Sometimes I could not stop crying,” he said.

With only “a really small window” connecting him to the outside world, Leonel turned to reading—”mainly the Bible or Bible analysis books”—to maintain his sanity.

“Los Venezolanos no somos peligrosos a la sociedad.”

To cope with detention, Leonel watched TV and slept. He used to talk more with family, but the facility restricted calls and charged high rates. When mental health staff visited, he stayed silent, having heard that conditions are worse in the mental health clinic. 

Leonel has held onto dreams for life beyond detention. He hopes to be reunited with his family, travel the country and see new sights, and work. 

“Los Venezolanos no somos peligrosos a la sociedad,” Leonel emphasized—Venezuelans are not dangerous to society. His story, like Junior’s and Yofer’s, underscores why New Mexico must pass House Bill 9, the Immigrant Safety Act. Our state must not continue to enable a detention system that strips immigrants of their dignity, subjects them to arbitrary punishment, and denies them the chance to contribute to our communities.