Jessie

Jessie (39) is from Mexico has been with his wife since 2010. They met in California and lived for a time in the US while he worked and his wife was in school. Then they moved to Mexico where she had spent much of her childhood. They have one daughter who is now 10 years old.

In 2023, they decided to move back to the US to escape hassles they were getting from gangs at the business they ran in Tijuana, as these were getting scarier and more frequent. Jessie’s wife filed a petition on his behalf as the spouse of a US citizen, and that petition is still in process, so they don’t feel comfortable sharing their full names or photos.

In October of 2024, Jessie tried to enter the US with his dad on the CPB-1 app. His wife and daughter, both US citizens, had gone through using their passports. Jessie’s dad was released in the US, but because Jessie had lived in the US previously, this was considered a “re-entry,” and he was detained. Other than his previous illegal entry into the US, Jessie has no criminal record.

“First, they took us to a cell. It was too small, I don't know how small it could be, about two meters… very small. There were 31 of us in that cell. there was no way to bathe. The smells were ugly.

I mean, the toilets are right there, and you end up lying down wherever you can. It was also extremely cold. I told my wife if I were eating ice cream there, it would never melt.

People got sick there and they ignored them. You feel like you have no rights, you're worthless; you have no value there.”

After spending over a week in that freezing cold, crowded holding cell, Jessie was moved to Otay Mesa Detention Center, a private prison owned by CoreCivic, a company that contracts with the US government to hold migrant detainees in California.  There, he spent over four months until he was deported back to Mexico in February 2025.

Jessie shared pages from a handbook he received at Otay, describing the employment offer for inmates, because he feels CoreCivic’s system of forced labor for food, for the poorest of the migrant inmates, is unjust.

According to Jessie, the free food offered to inmates is limited and poor quality. “For a young man, it’s not enough food,” he said.

CoreCivic also offers a for-profit commissary where inmates can buy better food at high prices. If a family of an inmate has the resources, they can put credit on their account to buy commissary food, but if they don’t, the inmate goes hungry and doesn’t have any extra nutritional options. Jessie provided a list of food and prices from the commissary including a 6 oz of beef for $4.60 and a 8 oz package of Doritos for $3.00. Sanitary supplies such as soap and deodorant must also be purchased through the commissary.

If a migrant in detention has no one to put money in their account, the only way they can get extra food is to work in the detention center. CoreCivic pays inmates $1/day for cleaning, or to work in the kitchens. A migrant would have to work five days to buy one 6 oz serving of beef.

Jessie describes, with anger, the poor conditions and the treatment of the workers who were working for pennies/hour.

“They pressure people, certain people who can't defend themselves. I don't know if it's a threat, but under pressure they force the people inside to work. The detainees themselves mix chemicals to make the soap they use to clean, without any protection. They don't give them goggles, they don't give them gloves, the shoes are just plastic with no traction,” Jessie said. “I witnessed a man who was cleaning and fell hard on the slippery floor. And the guards just said, ‘You’re not a man, stand up,’” he added.

Jessie said he learned from the guards that CoreCivic, the world’s largest private prison company which has a history of human rights abuses,  makes additional money from federal contracts doing inmate transfers. This was how Jessie described being transferred.

“They took us out at three in the morning and said they were sending us to Arizona. I said I didn’t want to go to Arizona, because my family, my wife and my daughter, visit me. He [the guard] says that doesn't matter. ‘If you don't leave, six people are coming for you and we're going to take you out by force.’”

They put a chain around our waists and handcuffs on our hands on our feet. We were chained together and they put us in a truck. The trip in the truck lasted about six hours.

Because of the chains we can't use the truck's bathroom, so, I’m embarrassed to say, at least three people had to relieve themselves in their clothes. When we got to Arizona, they kept us there for another three hours before we could get to a bathroom.

After three or four days, they took five people away. There were 27 of us there, including two people of Russian origin, Armenians, people from Jordan, people from Honduras, people from Mexico. We asked them, “why are they taking them away and why are we here?” They said some were going to Louisiana and others were going to Texas. And they took them away.

Then, when it was my turn, because I was on the second trip, they took me out of there and sent us back to Otay.

That week I had my court date. Several of us had court dates, and they didn't let us go to court. There was a girl who I think was from El Salvador. She had her court date, and since she missed it, they ended up deporting her. That's what happens with the transfers.”  

 

Jessie also said that he heard of abuses by guards, especially where the women migrants are detained. He said that he remembers a new guard being transferred to the men’s area, who told the inmates, himself, that he was transferred from the women’s detention section because he “messed with the women.” Jessie also told of being strip searched every time he was visited by his family and that the guards would mock and belittle his body.  He described a culture among the guards of verbal and physical abuse that made him feel devalued.

After four months in detention, Jessie had had enough, and he finally signed deportation papers.

Even after signing, he waited almost two weeks for his deportation to Mexico. Jessie is now back with his family in Tiajuana. His father, who had moved to California, plans on returning to Mexico as well.

“I am an immigrant, but before I am an immigrant, I am a human being. And I believe that we all have the right to be treated with dignity. Just because they committed a civil offense, they don't have the right to be treated like that. Sometimes that treatment is so contemptuous and horrible. I understand that everyone is looking for someone to take out their anger and frustration on. And I understand that the most vulnerable people are the ones who end up suffering the frustrations and complexes of others. But that doesn't give them the right. Justice is supposed to exist for a reason. We are supposed to have laws for a reason. We don't have laws to make people suffer,” Jessie said.

 

Phone conversation with Jessie August 9, 2025

https://investigate.afsc.org/company/corecivic

https://www.aclu.org/news/immigrants-rights/unchecked-growth-private-prison-corporations-and-immigration-detention-three-years-into-the-biden-administration#:~:text=The%20Biden%20Administration%20Increasingly%20Relies,operated%20by%20private%20prison%20corporations.