After they eloped, the couple, who are interfaith, sought the district court鈥檚 protection from their parents and broader society. Imran is a Muslim man and Neha is a Hindu woman in a country that has always frowned upon interfaith relationships, but they are even more vulnerable now due to rising religious extremism. The court instructed police to mediate between the couple and their families, leading Imran and Neha to relocate to a safe home.
A similar scenario played out for Suhana Begum*, a Muslim woman who lived with her family in Bharog, also near Ambala. Her parents forcibly confined her to their house in 2019 after she told them she loved a Hindu man named Rajiv Saini* and wanted to marry him, despite the difference in their religious backgrounds.
鈥淲e met at my aunt鈥檚 wedding where he worked as a DJ operator,鈥� Begum, who is 32, says. 鈥淗e gave me his number through friends, and a few months later we started talking to each other.鈥� But when her family discovered their relationship, they held her captive to prevent her from communicating with Saini. 鈥淔or two years, we couldn鈥檛 speak to each other, let alone see each other,鈥� she says.聽Since their villages are close to one another, she would hear news of his well-being from mutual contacts.聽
After being confined for four years, Begum persuaded her family to allow her to join a polytechnic school in the village so she could enroll in a grooming and beauty course. That鈥檚 when the couple decided to elope and seek refuge at the Ambala safe home, where they would both have police protection.
Begum joined Arya Samaj, a Hindu temple that conducts legally valid Vedic wedding ceremonies without elaborate rituals or caste restrictions, and converted to Hinduism in order to marry Saini. 鈥淥ur parents were upset with us when we ran away from our homes,鈥� she says. 鈥淲e were scared that they might come after us, so we decided to seek legal help. One of Rajiv鈥檚 friends had also had an intercaste marriage, so he helped us get married and get police protection in the safe home.鈥澛�
Begum says she endured taunts and mockery from Saini鈥檚 village community and his family for being a Muslim. 鈥淏ut eventually, everyone calmed down,鈥� she shares. 鈥淲e moved to Ambala right after we got married. 鈥� Initially, it was difficult to get everyone to love us and respect us. But slowly, they have come to terms with our marriage. Everyone in his family calls me Khushi since I changed my name to Khushboo after our wedding.鈥澛�
Begum and Saini never considered religion a barrier to their love. Now, even her own family agrees that Saini is the best partner for their daughter. 鈥淚t doesn鈥檛 matter that his religion is different,鈥� she says. 鈥淗e is a good person, so I fell in love with him.鈥�
In the early 2000s, people in Haryana scorned and actively attacked intercaste and interfaith couples, as well as couples from the same Gotra (clan), village, or adjoining villages because these were considered incestuous relationships. Their resistance to these couples helped give rise to honor-based killings. The families of these interfaith and intercaste couples鈥攐r an unlawful village council, called a Khap Panchayat鈥攕ocially ostracized, harmed, or killed their relatives for wanting to marry people of their own choosing rather than those chosen by their families.聽
Thanks to concerted efforts from social activists, socially conscious law-enforcing agents, and the judiciary, in 2010 the High Court of Punjab and Haryana directed police in Haryana and Punjab and the union territory of Chandigarh to create operational safe homes for runaway couples. Since Haryana had a deeply entrenched tradition of honor killing those involved in self-choice marriages, the then Haryana government became the first state to establish these safe homes.
Jagmati Sangwan, a member of All India Democratic Women鈥檚 Association (AIDWA) and an active campaigner for safe homes, remembers how the honor killings of several couples pushed AIDWA to call for safe homes, an idea favored by Haryana鈥檚 government at the time.
鈥淭hese safe homes have been instrumental in saving so many couples from being mercilessly killed, and it allows space for runaway couples to rebuild themselves to face society together,鈥� says Sangwan. However, as Sangwan notes, 鈥淎fter the safe homes were formed in Haryana, we pushed for a law against honor killing, but that was never enacted.鈥澛�
It is difficult to ascertain accurate data on honor killings because they are grossly underreported, and in most cases, the families of the couples, the Khaps, and the village community hide such killings until they are reported by the media. 鈥淭he bride鈥檚 parents faced a lot of social pressure, so they would coax the newlywed couple to come to the village and meet them,鈥澛� says Vikas Narain Rai, retired deputy general of law and order of Haryana. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 when they would kill them, or if they see them in the market then they would murder them.鈥澛�
In 2000, conducted a study that estimated that as many as 5,000 girls and women lose their lives to honor killings around the world each year, though some nongovernmental organizations estimate that there are each year. By June 2024, with one in the Jind, Sirsa, and Hisar districts, respectively.
Given these statistics, Rai explains there has been a 鈥渂arrage of petitions from young couples seeking police protection,鈥� so 鈥渢he High Court ordered that the couples be given protection in the initial period until the pressure from their families is tapered and they can figure out their life forward.鈥�
Aside from social disapproval of self-choice marriages, India is seeing a growing trend of brutal attacks on interfaith couples, particularly Hindu鈥揗uslim couples, by Hindu supremacists and Bajrang Dal members鈥攖he youth wing of the Sangh Parivar, which is the ideological branch of India鈥檚 ruling Bharatiya Janata Party. 鈥淭he opposition against interfaith marriages has become more aggressive than ever before,鈥� Rai says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 gone beyond the families in the current scenario.鈥�
Ashutosh Kumar* married Alfia,* a Muslim woman, in June 2023 after meeting on Instagram and feeling instantly connected. They lived less than one mile apart from each other, so they decided to run away from their families to seek protection in the Ambala safe home for seven days. Now, nearly two years later, Alfia鈥檚 parents don鈥檛 speak with them, though Kumar鈥檚 parents were on board with the marriage.
鈥淲e were in a relationship for about two and a half years before we ran away to get married,鈥� Kumar shares. 鈥淚鈥檇 started saving up money for a year because I knew she would call me any day to say that she had run away from her house and then I鈥檇 have to run too.鈥�
When the two landed at the Ambala safe house, Alfia had nothing with her. However, Kumar had taken a friend鈥檚 advice and withdrew more than $175 (Rs15000 in his own currency) from his bank account, so they were able to begin rebuilding their lives. 鈥淥ne doesn鈥檛 need phones to pass the time,鈥� Kumar says. 鈥淲e were accompanied by five [other] couples, so everyone would share their stories, and that鈥檚 how we spent our time away from everyone at the safe home.鈥� The couple made friends with others in similar circumstances. 鈥淲e continue to stay connected,鈥� he says.
The couple eventually left the safe home and married at Arya Samaj temple, after which they stayed with different relatives and friends for more than a month before returning to Kumar鈥檚 home. However, it wasn鈥檛 a smooth journey for the couple, as Alfia鈥檚 parents kept intimidating and invoking fear among Kumar鈥檚 family and distressing the couple.聽
Meanwhile, Kumar benefited from being a Hindu man marrying a Muslim woman and was able to gain a Bajrang Dal member鈥檚 support. When the scenario is reversed and Hindu woman marries a Muslim man, right-wing agents call the pairing a 鈥渓ove jihad,鈥� an unverified conspiracy theory in India that alleges Muslim men lure Hindu women into relationships to convert them to Islam.聽聽
Asif Iqbal, founder of , a nongovernmental organization that helps interfaith couples register and legalize their marriage without religious conversion, says it has become an increasingly common practice for Hindu men marrying Muslim women to approach a right-wing organization and persuade them into intimidating their families into accepting the marriage.
Between 2018 and 2021, 10,736 couples took advantage of the shelter offered by safe homes. A female guard at one of Haryana鈥檚 safe homes tells 大象传媒 that most couples consist of young women between the ages of 18 and 21 while most of the young men are between the ages of 21 and 24. 鈥淭he highest numbers are that of intercaste [couples,] but interfaith couples also come, and about 10% are from the general category or same-caste couples,鈥� says the guard, who asked to remain anonymous. 鈥淥nce the couples arrive at the safe home, they are not allowed to step out even to the verandah of the building but they are free to roam around inside. We are responsible for them so we have to ensure their safety.鈥�
Couples from the neighboring state of Rajasthan also use safe homes in Haryana because there are none in their state.聽However, as more couples seek safety in these homes, the homes themselves are facing a major funding challenge. As a police superintendent who asked to remain anonymous explains, 鈥淭he police department doesn鈥檛 have an additional budget for the maintenance of the safe home.鈥�
There is a 2018 apex court directive for all 22 Indian states to implement safe homes. As a result, there are such facilities in Punjab, Maharashtra, and New Delhi. However, neither the state governments nor the central government has passed a law to implement the directive.聽
In current-day India where interfaith unions are increasingly under state-sanctioned assault, Dhanak for Humanity鈥檚 Iqbal points out the need for political will to be used to expand Haryana鈥檚 model and make safe homes a part of the legal system across the country. 鈥淭he future for safe homes is bleak, and it will continue to be a makeshift arrangement unless an act is brought in to formalize it,鈥� he adds.
Despite the challenges, safe homes are critical to the security of runaway couples and help reduce incidents of honor killing in Haryana. 鈥淪afe homes are a very good thing for couples like us,鈥� Kumar concludes. 鈥淧eople should not look at love marriages negatively. Whether parents choose or the boy and girl choose, ultimately, it is the couple who have to live together, right?鈥�
* The names of some people have been changed to safeguard them from potential abuse and harassment.
]]>Here鈥檚 a simple way to understand how trauma starts and how trauma spreads: A person goes to sit in a chair, but the chair breaks. Perhaps they are embarrassed because someone witnessed their humiliation. The primal part of their brain automatically wants to prevent a similar event, so they begin to fear chairs. They might think twice before they sit in a chair again. Maybe they avoid chairs altogether or let someone else sit in the chair first to ensure it won鈥檛 break.
In this instance, the traumatic memory of the event has changed the way the person responds to similar situations.
Now, let鈥檚 apply this metaphor to real life. If a young person witnesses one parent being beaten by another parent, then that young person may feel both fearful and helpless. They may even subconsciously say to themselves, 鈥淚鈥檓 never going to let that happen to me.鈥� As that young person gets older, they may have a fervent desire to acquire a knife or a gun without actually realizing why they have such a strong need to feel protected.
, which is when people repeat behaviors associated with past traumas, may manifest in the form of bullying aimed at their peers. As they spread their trauma onto others, they or their peers may take it out on society. They may rob or otherwise hurt others. They may even harm themselves through cutting, substance abuse, or violent crimes against others.
When someone hurts others, their victims and the criminal justice system push for them to be prosecuted to the maximum extent of the law. This is the real-life contagion of trauma. While we very rarely link such outcomes to the initial traumatic events, this is the way trauma actually works: Hurt people tend to hurt others.
Modern American society is marked by , , , , and , all of which cause stress and hurt people, and thereby fuel trauma.
We have the means to equalize social strata. Yet too often we choose to spend disproportionate public revenue on reacting to crimes rather than preventing them, enforcing inequality through 鈥渢ough on crime鈥� policies such as policing, aggressive prosecution, and harsh sentencing. Punishment does not stop the cycle of trauma but worsens and either fuels existing trauma or creates new ones.聽
When people suffering from the trauma caused by inequality are violently policed, they suffer even more, their families and communities suffer, and such suffering continues for years, decades, or even generations. When children of the incarcerated grow up without parents around to support them, we contribute to the contagion of trauma. We merely rinse and repeat the cycle of trauma to no end.
It鈥檚 no wonder the United States, whose cities invest between of public revenue into policing, subsequently has high levels of incarceration. There are currently confined behind bars around the U.S. About half a million of those are jailed before trial, which means they may be innocent. The trauma such systems inflict can be measured by the level of trauma reenactment in any given society. Yet, we continue to pour limited resources into a system that fails to keep us safe.
Our current system does little to address the hurt victims of crime suffer. Indeed, victims are not the loudest advocates of policing and mass incarceration and tend to support non-punitive approaches. The found that victims 鈥渟upport rehabilitative over punitive responses to crime鈥� and 鈥減refer state spending on mental health and drug treatment, job creation, and education over spending on prisons and jails.鈥� And 鈥�60% of victims prefer shorter prison sentences focused on rehabilitation over longer sentences aimed at incapacitation for extended periods.鈥�
What if, instead of spending huge percentages of our city budgets on policing and prisons, we reduce the source of the traumas that fuel crime and pain? Effective crime mitigation includes , , , , and publicly funded , all of which are that remain poorly funded.
In 2020, when mass public protests against racist policing and violence made connections between city and police budgets, the idea of 鈥溾€� became a rallying cry. The was swift, as politicians equated the idea to an attack on police officers as individuals.
Yet if we envision a fairer world where we aim to prevent traumas before they begin, where people have the collective apparatus to build strong social connections and have their needs met, we can reduce the need for policing and prisons altogether.
Today鈥檚 modern-day abolitionist movement鈥攏amed deliberately to draw parallels with the movement to abolish slavery鈥攃ould be called trauma abolition, and is centered on investing public dollars into stopping trauma, and therefore crime, before it begins, and divesting from the architecture of trauma contagion, such as violent policing and mass incarceration. It is an idea we need to keep .
On the other side of abolition is a fairer world where there is less need and thus, less violence. In this world, crime and punishment are prevented rather than responded to. Who wouldn鈥檛 want to live in such a world?
]]>For 30 years, Gastelum鈥檚 routine in Tucson, Arizona, was based on congeniality and familiarity. But when the Trump administration鈥檚 crackdown on immigrants without legal status in the United States hit close to home, nabbing an employee of the bakery near him, an unsettling uncertainty set in around his Southside neighborhood.
鈥淵ou don鈥檛 see as many people out and about,鈥� he says. 鈥淪tores that used to be quite busy are now nearly empty.鈥�
Some 7 miles north, at the nonprofit , located near the city鈥檚 downtown, Xochitl Mercado and her colleagues field a daily flood of calls from worried undocumented people. The organization is among various advocacy groups offering resources to immigrants. 鈥淧eople are looking for guidance on what to do if they have an encounter with immigration agents or police officers,鈥� Mercado says. The nonprofit is distributing packets with materials informing undocumented people of their rights and various means to access legal services and community support.
Just days after President Donald Trump took office for his second term on Jan. 20, 2025, his administration launched the he repeatedly promised during his campaign. Border czar immigration agents would first focus on , but made it clear that no one would be immune from deportation. And, despite news reports that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement isn鈥檛 , the mere threat of mass deportations has had a chilling effect in immigrant communities.
鈥淭here鈥檚 definitely more uneasiness in our community now than during the last Trump administration,鈥� Mercado says. 鈥淲e鈥檙e hearing from many callers that they鈥檙e not sending their children to school, that they鈥檙e afraid to go to work.鈥�
In response, a coalition of immigrant advocates quickly moved to quell concerns of undocumented immigrants. Many of them have mixed-status families that include U.S. citizens and permanent legal residents. At a recent community gathering, attendees received training on exercising their rights when confronted by immigration agents and learned of an available hotline for rapid assistance. Parents were also encouraged to make arrangements with a relative or trusted friend to care for their children if they are suddenly deported.
鈥淲e鈥檙e living in very difficult times, very aggressive times,鈥� stemming from policies that justify racism, attorney Alba Jaramillo, a defender of immigrants鈥� rights, told the crowd. 鈥淏ut we are not going to allow them to separate our families,鈥� she said, referring to immigration authorities. 鈥淲e are not going to allow them to keep us terrorized. We will not allow them to enter our homes without judicial search warrants.鈥�
Rafael Barcel贸 Durazo, the Mexican consul in Tucson, encouraged those at the gathering to use a mobile app that Mexico鈥檚 government rolled out as an emergency communication tool through its 53 U.S. consulates to assist expatriates at risk of deportation. He also highlighted, a that includes free transportation from border cities to the country鈥檚 interior for Mexicans who are deported, as well as those who choose to return on their own.
At the consulate, there鈥檚 been an increase in the number of people seeking official documentation that could help ease a transition to rebuild a life in Mexico, Barcel贸 Durazo says. 鈥淢any people are interested in having their Mexican nationality, probably because they feel that the political environment is different.鈥�
Among those trying to secure documentation are fathers and mothers lacking legal status and whose children were born in the U.S., the consul says. Across the country, an estimated 4.4 million U.S.-born children under 18 live with an undocumented parent, according to the .
In 2022, the U.S. undocumented immigrant population was estimated at around 11 million, or about 3% of the total population, according to the center data. But the Migration Policy Institute, a think tank in Washington, D.C., puts it at 12.8 million, or 3.3% of the population. By mid-2023, according to the Institute, a record number of migrants arriving from the Northern Triangle countries of El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras helped swell the undocumented population to about 13.7 million (about 4% of the total population).
In Arizona, where some of the nation鈥檚 strictest immigration laws have consistently targeted undocumented residents, an estimated 250,000 people live in the state without legal authorization.聽
Margo Cowan, an attorney who has practiced immigration law since the early 1970s, says in all those years she鈥檚 never seen the level of anti-immigrant sentiment now pervading many parts of the country. In Texas, in early February after being taunted in school about her family鈥檚 immigration status. 鈥淭here are many layers of assault against the undocumented community: psychological, obviously physical, name calling, disparaging, no recognition of the contributions that folks make to our economy and to our communities in every aspect,鈥� Cowan says.
She founded Keep Tucson Together in 2011, a year after the state鈥檚 , commonly known as the 鈥渟how me your papers鈥� law, went into effect. The U.S. Supreme Court in 2012 found the measure to be largely unconstitutional, although it upheld a provision allowing police to ask the immigration status of people suspected of being in the country unlawfully.
Since those days, Cowan and a cadre of volunteers have held weekly legal workshops where people seeking permanent legal residency, citizenship, or some form of legal status can get help navigating the complex immigration system. The workshops also teach undocumented people about certain protections they have in this country, including the right to due process, the right against unreasonable searches and seizures, the right to legal counsel and the right to education.
鈥淢any people think that because they have no status, they have no rights,鈥� the attorney says. 鈥淎nd that鈥檚 not true.鈥�
Meanwhile, educators reassure worried parents that student rights are still protected at school. Gabriel Trujillo, superintendent of the Tucson Unified School District, held a news conference to address community fear over Trump鈥檚 rollback of a federal policy prohibiting immigration authorities from making arrests at sensitive locations such as schools, churches, and hospitals. Immigration agents and police officers will be permitted to enter public school campuses only if they present a judicial warrant and valid identification, Trujillo said.
He emphasized that , a 1982 landmark case ensuring equal access to education for undocumented children, remains in place. 鈥淲e stand firmly behind the belief that the traditional public school is, and always will be, safe for children and young people, regardless of immigration status,鈥� Trujillo said.
That鈥檚 the message Mercado works to impart at Keep Tucson Together, both by phone and in person, to worried parents who want to keep their children at home. But, she says, the threat of life-changing deportation can weigh heavily on people鈥檚 minds.
Back on the Southside, home to many Latino residents, a woman stands quietly inside an unassuming food truck adorned with photos of tacos, burritos, and other Mexican specialties. Customers are hard to come by since immigration raids were announced, says the woman, who declined to give her name.
Under the shade tree outside the bakery, Gastelum and his friends lament the anxiety undocumented people and their families are feeling these days. He empathizes; he was once in their shoes. To peacefully protest Trump鈥檚 mass deportations, Latino immigrant communities鈥攑eople with and without papers鈥攕hould boycott all businesses for a day, he says. 鈥淭hat would show the impact that we have on the economy.鈥�
]]>Gonzalez, 56, had spent most of her adult life recovering from the pain and trauma of childhood abuse and domestic violence. She has a loving family and a stable marriage of 25 years. Her family couldn鈥檛 understand why she would want to talk to the kind of person she鈥檇 spent her life trying to escape.
But for Gonzalez, sharing her story was a way to bring her healing journey full circle. After years of perseverance, she鈥檇 established herself as a community services manager for House of Ruth, a nonprofit organization based in Pomona, California. Every day, she helps survivors wrestle with similar challenges to the ones she鈥檚 faced.
When she received an invitation to speak at the California Institution for Men, a prison in the city of Chino, California, in August, she saw a new opportunity to help interrupt the cycle of domestic and sexual violence: talking directly with people who have caused harm.
鈥淚 know that change is possible,鈥� Gonzalez says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 good when somebody is able to tell you that a life without violence and any type of abuse in the home is possible.鈥�
The panel was organized by a program called the Victim Offender Education Group. Founded by, the program provides rehabilitation activities for men at the California Institution for Men. The curriculum is grounded in principles of restorative justice, commonly defined as an alternative to punitive justice that promotes healing for the person who was harmed, the person who carried out the harm, and the communities they both belong to.
Although the group was not created specifically for people involved in domestic violence and intimate partner violence, it has increasingly focused on serving this population as it became clear that many program participants had committed these types of crimes, said Rev. Nora Jacob, a minister at Covina Community Church and program lead in restorative justice at the prison.
Jacob has been organizing education groups in prison settings since 2014 and has facilitated the rehabilitation of several cohorts of men who have committed a variety of crimes, including domestic violence and intimate partner violence. A two-hour session is held once per week and consists of a mix of readings and empathy-building exercises. Participants spend time sharing and self-reflecting on the decisions and circumstances that led to their incarceration.
鈥淧eople come out changed,鈥� Jacob says. At the introductory meeting, she tells participants: 鈥淲e are asking you to share as much as you鈥檙e willing to share, and we are going to ask about everything.鈥�
Reconciling with hurt is something that Jacob has had to do in her own life. As a child growing up in upstate New York, she was sexually abused. 鈥淲hat I鈥檇 been told about God鈥攖hat a creator was real, that God had not seen or heard me when I cried out鈥� she could no longer believe, she says. 鈥淪o I rejected any kind of organized religion for a long time.鈥�
Decades passed, and Jacob found herself married and living in Orange County, California. She then faced a crisis when her husband of 19 years suddenly passed away from a brain aneurysm. 鈥淥ne night I was contemplating suicide and called out to God鈥擨 didn鈥檛 believe in God鈥攁nd had a feeling of the Holy Spirit coming over and reassuring me.鈥�
Jacob, a library services director at the time, joined the Disciples of Christ denomination church in her county. She eventually enrolled in Claremont School of Theology where she spent time with social justice activists. After graduating, Jacob trained at Insight Prison Project in the Bay Area to be a restorative justice facilitator and eventually secured her current position at the California Institution for Men.
鈥淚鈥檓 committed to restorative justice,鈥� Jacob says. 鈥淚 live differently because of restorative justice, and anything that can do that [kind of transformation] for a person I think is worth the pursuit.鈥�
Restorative justice started gaining momentum among grassroots organizations in the 1970s, but it is not a new practice, as its roots are in Indigenous customs, such as talking circles. Restorative justice has grown in popularity for its, which is the likelihood that a previously incarcerated person will re-offend for the same crime. That鈥檚 what Jacob has seen among the men her program works with. Incarcerated individuals who take part in rehabilitative programs are less likely to reoffend than their counterparts who don鈥檛, according to by the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.
Domestic violence refers to any type of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse inflicted on a person by their partner, family member, or cohabitant. Intimate partner violence is similar, but refers specifically to violence from a partner, spouse, or ex-partner. These crimes don鈥檛 just affect the victims and their families; they also have huge financial implications for society at large.
Intimate partner violence against women costs California $73.7 billion in health care, lost earnings, criminal justice expenses, and survivor support, which accounted for 2% of California鈥檚 gross domestic product in 2022 alone, according to . The study, which primarily uses data compiled from the, measures both the tangible and intangible costs of intimate partner violence. The study also draws on data from other sources, including the U.S. Department of Justice, the state budget, health care providers, the Centers for Disease Control, and many others.
, PhD, an associate professor at UC San Diego and principal investigator for the survey, said that while the price tag might be high, it only represents a fraction of these crimes鈥� negative impacts because of gaps in data collection.
Thomas gave some examples, such as lack of data quantifying the amount of time police spend investigating intimate partner violence, or more specific data regarding health care costs and the impact on survivors鈥� quality of life. 鈥溾€奣his is not just costing taxpayers,鈥� Thomas says. 鈥淚t costs the people who have to deal with that violence quite dearly, both financially and in intangible ways.鈥�
For the panel event, Gonzalez and other nonprofit advocates were paired with an education group member and filled the role of a surrogate survivor, someone who could tell their member how it felt to be the victim of domestic or intimate partner violence. The exercise represented the culmination of the members鈥� education and was meant to gauge whether each man could feel empathy for their surrogate survivor and remorse for the immense hurt they had caused others.
For the surrogate survivors, sharing their stories is potentially a cathartic experience, said Melissa Pitts, the chief program officer for , who also served on the panel. That鈥檚 because many survivors have never had the opportunity to address the people who caused them harm.
That鈥檚 what convinced Gonzalez to participate in the panel. She said she was initially skeptical of the idea. 鈥淭hen I thought about it and [realized] I鈥檝e never been able to face any of my attackers and let someone know exactly how I felt,鈥� Gonzalez says.
Pitts said that organizations like House of Ruth are increasingly interested in restorative justice practices, while remaining survivor centered. One motivation, she said, is that domestic violence is widespread, but carceral solutions typically don鈥檛 get to the root of the problem. For example, many people who cause harm are replicating abusive patterns they learned in childhood, she explained.
The need is widespread. 鈥淚f you go to the prison system, a corrections officer will tell you 90% of their caseload has experienced domestic violence growing up in the home,鈥� Pitts says. 鈥淎nd then you can go to an affluent community with lots of monetary resources, and they are experiencing domestic violence.鈥�
One former education group participant at the California Institution for Men, who requested anonymity because of safety concerns, believes the harm he committed stems back to his traumatic adolescence. The participant was sentenced to 15 years to life in prison for a domestic-violence-related murder.
The man said he grew up in a household where violence was commonplace. Years of neglect and abuse carried out by his father, mother, and other adults in his life pushed him toward drugs and gangs, he said. The violence also distorted how he viewed relationships. 鈥淭he way that my mom, father, and stepfather talked about women led me to believe that you couldn鈥檛 trust women, and I carried that into my relationships,鈥� he says.
Once incarcerated at the California Institution for Men, the man began to meet other people in rehabilitation classes who had faced similar struggles. After connecting with Jacob and other advocates affiliated with the Victim Offender Education Group, he decided to apply. He spent the next few years in group restorative justice circles unpacking his pain and learning to accept responsibility for the violence he inflicted upon women and others.
The man said his life-changing moment came when, after years of therapy and reflection, he took part in a surrogate survivor panel. 鈥淗earing the raw emotions coming out of someone that had been a victim of a similar crime, it stirred up something in me which I had never felt, which was empathy,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 really started to realize the harm that I caused. Before, I always felt that no one cared about me, so why should I care about anybody?鈥�
The participant was paroled over a year ago and is now involved in restorative justice advocacy, speaking to youth in juvenile hall. He also visits the California Institution of Men to share his story with those who are incarcerated. For him, being able to feel guilt and remorse for his past actions has been the key to genuinely turning his life around.
鈥淔or me, genuine change is remorse,鈥� he says. 鈥淚t changes who you are, so you don鈥檛 鈥� continue to harm people.鈥�
For Gonzalez, participating in the panel didn鈥檛 go as well as she鈥檇 hoped. She said she left the event feeling like the incarcerated person she鈥檇 spoken with had more work to do, a sentiment she shared with Jacob afterward.
鈥淭he reaction I got from this individual wasn鈥檛 what I was expecting, so I walked out of there feeling a little confused,鈥� she says. 鈥淚 thought I was going to see the remorse. My expectation was to see something visual.鈥�
Instead, the man didn鈥檛 say much and, according to her, didn鈥檛 appear to show empathy. Still, Gonzalez said she believes in the program鈥檚 mission and thinks the person she talked to can benefit from it.
鈥淓ven with the harm he鈥檚 caused, I feel he deserves to have somebody continue to teach him, whatever needs to be done for him to come to terms with how he has caused harm,鈥� Gonzalez says.
She also walked away feeling proud of the progress she鈥檇 made to date.
鈥淭he biggest thing I took [away] is that change is so powerful,鈥� she says. 鈥淓ven as a victim, it鈥檚 possible to become 100% a survivor and have full control.鈥�
This story was produced in collaboration with the.
]]>When Tisoy was 20, she began transitioning. Within five years of her transition, Bucaramanga, which was once her refuge, no longer felt safe. So in late 2024, Tisoy, who is now 25, decided to begin journeying toward the United States because she鈥檚 drawn to what she calls the country鈥檚 鈥渙pen-minded culture.鈥�
鈥淭he last time I went [to my community] was very difficult because there was criticism, insults, threats, and I made the decision to leave Colombia,鈥� Tisoy said from a migrant shelter in northern Mexico. 鈥淚 said I鈥檓 [also] not doing well in Bucaramanga, so I want to change my life.鈥�
Since taking office, U.S. President Donald Trump has taken a series of as well as transgender and nonbinary people. For trans migrants like Tisoy, who are already undertaking arduous journeys to the United States, asylum options have been shut down, and the hope of finding safe haven is dwindling.
In response to the changing environment, key initiatives in Mexico are focusing on developing more long-term and comprehensive support for LGBTQ migrants, who may be in Mexico for a longer time than originally intended.
The LGBTQ community experiences continuous displacement, especially if they are rejected by their communities and families and are seeking access to medical care. However, there is little data on LGBTQ refugees and asylum seekers in the U.S., which hinders a better understanding of their characteristics and experiences.
found that between 2012 and 2017 an estimated 11,400 asylum applications were filed by LGBTQ individuals. Nearly 4,000 of these applicants sought asylum specifically due to fear of persecution based on their sexual orientation or gender identity.
Ra煤l Caporal, director of , which provides refuge for LGBTQ migrants in Mexico City, Tapachula, and Monterrey, Mexico, explained that the majority of the individuals they serve are fleeing violence and seeking international protection.
鈥淭he population we focus on leaves their countries because of persecution and violence motivated by sexual orientation, gender identity, and expression,鈥� Caporal says.
鈥淸This is compounded] by organized crime taking advantage of their vulnerability, the absence of the state, and the inability to access justice institutions when they try to report crimes.鈥�
Latin America and the Caribbean report the highest number of trans murders of any region in the world. According to Transrespect Versus Transphobia Worldwide, globally occur there, with the majority of victims being Black trans women, trans women of color, and trans sex workers. In Mexico alone, according to data from Mexico鈥檚 National Trans and Nonbinary Assembly (Asamblea Nacional Trans No Binarie), last year, making it the second deadliest country in the world for trans people, after Brazil.
Brigitte Baltazar, a Mexican trans activist who resides in Tijuana, Mexico, after being deported from the U.S. in 2021, explains that trans asylum seekers no longer see the U.S. as a safe haven as Donald Trump signs harsh executive orders targeting trans and nonbinary people as well as immigrants. Baltazar says that these executive orders 鈥渋ncrease the stigma and discrimination [trans migrants are] already experiencing,鈥� which 鈥渃reates a state of panic.鈥�
Though Casa Frida documented that 67% of the people they served in 2024 didn鈥檛 have the U.S. as their final destination, the remaining 33% intended to reach the U.S. using CBP One, a mobile app that migrants can use to apply to enter the U.S. However, that option was discontinued by the Trump administration in January.
Activists and organizations agree that strengthening access to asylum in Mexico, along with health care and job opportunities, is key to sustaining support for trans migrants.
鈥淢exico has a great opportunity to strengthen its local public policies on integration, particularly at the municipal and state levels,鈥� Caporal adds. 鈥淯ltimately, it is the municipalities where refugees will reside, where they will find work close to their homes, where they will generate an income, and where people can continue their studies.鈥�
The persecution and violence LGBTQ individuals face often continue during their journey. Shortly after crossing the Mexico鈥揋uatemala border, Tisoy and a fellow group of migrants were kidnapped. She recalled being held in the backyard of a house for 12 days until her best friend in the United States could raise $1,000 to meet a ransom demand.
Caporal explained that the lack of state protection and inaccessible justice institutions increases the vulnerability of trans migrants, making them easy targets for organized crime. In its latest report, highlights the risks and precariousness faced by people in the U.S.鈥揗exico border, at the hands of both state and non-state actors. The report warns that many migrants are forced to pay bribes to Mexican authorities, criminal groups, or individuals at checkpoints.
Tisoy arrived in Matamoros, Tamaulipas鈥攁 city less than three miles away from Brownsville, Texas鈥攄ays before Trump鈥檚 inauguration. She planned to cross the river and request asylum, but she didn鈥檛 have the $200 fee she needed to pay the cartel to cross. With deportations beginning, she now waits near the border as she doesn鈥檛 want to risk being taken back to Colombia.
鈥淚n this journey, you have to be very positive because if you get depressed, you鈥檙e in a city that isn鈥檛 yours, in a country that isn鈥檛 your own,鈥� Tisoy says. 鈥淚 cried and prayed a lot, but then I realized I had to keep going. I wiped away my tears and here I am.鈥�
Waiting near the U.S.鈥揗exico border is increasingly dangerous. Most migrants in Matamoros remain in shelters due to threats of being kidnapped and robbed. For Tisoy, even being at the shelter can be uncomfortable due to the lack of specific support for LGBTQ individuals.
After families complained about her presence in a shelter with children, she moved to a neutral room in a nearby shelter, but her stay is uncertain with more migrants seeking an extended stay in Mexico. 鈥淚 arrived normally, and no one had said anything to me,鈥� Tisoy explained. 鈥淭hen one mother said I was trans and went to complain, but I didn鈥檛 understand why she did it.鈥�
After the cancellation of CBP appointments, some migrants returned to Casa Frida to seek legal advice for requesting asylum in Mexico. To seek asylum in Mexico, individuals must apply within 30 days of arrival at a Commission for Refugee Aid (COMAR) office. The application requires completing a form explaining their reasons for leaving their home country, providing supporting documentation, and detailing their fear of persecution based on factors such as race, religion, nationality, political opinion, gender, or social group membership.
Casa Frida, along with other organizations, is currently working with COMAR to find alternatives to the 30-day rule for those who didn鈥檛 apply for asylum because they were waiting for their CBP appointment. Caporal says that Mexico must strengthen its asylum system and provide COMAR with the resources to meet the increasing demand for guidance, incorporating both gender and sexual diversity perspectives.聽
鈥淲e are preparing a draft bill to reform the refugee law in the Chamber of Deputies, which seeks to include persecution based on sexual orientation and gender identity as a direct cause for obtaining and recognizing refugee status,鈥� he added.
Along with legal counseling, Baltazar said 鈥渄ignified access to health care鈥� is also a critical need. Baltazar, who also coordinates the LGBTQ program at the migrant organization , explained that Mexico鈥檚 bureaucratic and often inhumane health system poses a significant challenge, particularly for trans individuals.
She regularly accompanies trans migrants to health centers to access antiretrovirals or STI medications, a challenge even for internally displaced Mexicans. The lack of documentation鈥攃ommon for both domestic and foreign migrants who fled without documents or lost them on their journey鈥攆urther complicates their access to proper health care.
鈥淲ith hormone treatments, unfortunately there is no program and there are no specialized doctors, like endocrinologists, who can care for this population,鈥� Baltazar added. 鈥淭his puts their health at risk since they do not have a hormone treatment controlled by a specialist.鈥�
Tisoy has been struggling to get tested after being sexually assaulted on the train north. 鈥淚 spent 15 days on the train, and I was raped. So it鈥檚 important to me to get tested,鈥� she says. During a stop at Casa Frida in Mexico City, she tried to get tested, but after three days, she decided to continue her journey rather than waiting.
Before Trump鈥檚 inauguration, there was a focus on helping people 鈥渨hile they were able to cross,鈥� but now, Baltazar says there鈥檚 an urgent need for a longer-term strategy where people can access health care and other services and opportunities in Mexico.
鈥淧eople cannot return to their countries or regions because their lives are in danger. The idea is to offer them workshops and integration support, giving vulnerable people tools so they can do anything in a new country,鈥� Baltazar added. 鈥淧erhaps they even discover passions they didn鈥檛 have the opportunity to explore in their countries because they weren鈥檛 free or didn鈥檛 have access to schools, universities, or job training.鈥�
Most shelters and resources for LGBTQ asylum seekers rely on grassroots efforts by activists like Baltazar and organizations like Casa Frida, which depend on volunteer and community support. Casa Frida obtained external funding to continue growing, but nearly 60% of its 2025-2026 budget is at risk due to USAID cuts.
Though they are developing an emergency plan to continue operations, Caporal warned that wait times for services will likely increase. 鈥淥ur operational capacity will likely be reduced,鈥� Caporal says. 鈥淭his may result in longer wait times for those who visit our facilities daily and we will have to ensure that we continue providing the 54,000 meals we serve daily.鈥澛�
Caporal agrees that the focus should be on strengthening paths to settle in Mexico and pushing to implement these integration policies, particularly at the local level. Casa Frida is concentrating on these local integration opportunities, providing a safer environment where individuals can explore a wide range of life options.聽
鈥淭hat is when they begin to make the decision that in reality it is not that they want to reach the United States,鈥� Caporal added. 鈥淚n reality what they want is to reach a safe territory where they can live in freedom, autonomy, and鈥攁bove all鈥攚ith pride in being who they are.鈥�
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