Almost 500 men held at the T Don Hutto immigration detention centre in Taylor, Texas, have smuggled a clandestine chronicle out of the facility nicknamed “la perrera” – Spanish for “the dog pound”. Over a few months between July and September 2026 they compiled hundreds of pages of handwritten testimonies, sketches and even two protest songs, which were mailed from inside the privately run ICE jail to a relative and then passed to the advocacy group Center for Popular Democracy before reaching The Guardian. The collection, totalling roughly 200 pages, paints a vivid picture of life behind bars, detailing alleged guard misconduct, sub‑standard food and medical care, and the psychological toll of prolonged detention.
A clandestine chronicle from inside the ‘dog pound’
One detainee, identified as Julian Osorio Garcia, an asylum seeker from Colombia, sang a defiant protest song over a prison pay‑phone: “We are the people, raising our voice. You are my brother, brother I am. Today as you find yourself in this prison, give me a hug, I give you love.” Another wrote, “We are immigrants, we are not criminals,” while a third declared, “We are victims of racism. We live it first‑hand. We ourselves are the proof. We are not criminals.” The artists also sketched scenes of a man waving to his family before being arrested at a grocery store, bleak cells, and an immigration court, all intended “for those who will be here, for those of us who are here, and for those who left.”
The facility, operated by CoreCivic under contract to ICE, held 497 detainees at the end of September 2026 – nearly full capacity – with many arriving in 2025 and 2026 and a few having been incarcerated since September 2023. The detainees described feeling treated as “inventory” rather than human beings, and they sent a list of demands including faster case processing, family reunification, release of children and detainees with developmental disabilities, and investigations into rising immigrant deaths in ICE custody.
Testimonies of alleged mistreatment and systemic neglect
Personal accounts detail violent encounters with guards. In one incident a Cuban man attempted to take a piece of bread back to his cell; after guards refused, he ate it in defiance. According to the written record, guards then beat him to the floor, leaving him bleeding while other detainees “only saw through glass how they beat their companion.” CoreCivic responded that the episode was reviewed with ICE and concluded no excessive force was used. DHS, meanwhile, dismissed the allegations as “FALSE” and asserted that all detainees receive three meals a day, clean water, clothing, showers and access to phones.
A Honduran father recounted his arrest in San Antonio in August 2026 after seven years in the US. He was driving to a convenience store when a black vehicle sped toward him; people leapt out, pepper‑sprayed him, and he lost consciousness. Waking to officials splashing water on his face, he realised they were ICE officers. The Guardian could not verify the story. The testimonies also highlight medical neglect, solitary confinement, and retaliation against whistleblowers, according to Alejandro Caceres of the Austin Sanctuary Network, who said he receives frequent reports of “how bad it is” inside.
The human cost: personal stories and legal battles
Julian Osorio Garcia, who requested asylum after being threatened in Colombia, was arrested in Texas in May 2026 following a traffic stop involving local police working with ICE. Despite holding a work permit while his case proceeds, a federal judge denied his habeas petition in late October, keeping him in ICE custody. “It’s a migratory process that is costing tears, the separation of families, the loss of so much money for families [trying to fight their cases] – it’s leading to death,” he said. “And how can a private company profit from all this?” he asked, referring to CoreCivic.
Another detainee, a Honduran father, described the moment ICE agents apprehended him as a “final goodbye” to his normal life, leaving him “behind bars, living an experience that marks a ‘before’ and ‘after’ for the detainee and his family.” The collection also includes a map of a cell drawn from the interior, and a photograph of a guard frisking a detainee near the food hall, with a security gate leading to isolation.
Official responses and the ongoing controversy
CoreCivic issued a statement saying its role is “limited but important” and that it strives to provide “safe, humane and dignified” care while cases are pending. The company added that it does not decide who is detained or for how long. DHS countered by calling all allegations of substandard conditions “FALSE” and listed the services it claims to provide. However, the department declined to comment on specific claims, stating it “will not entertain unnamed allegations from the Guardian.”
The advocacy group Center for Popular Democracy, which helped release the documents, described the accounts as exposing “an entire system that strips people of their dignity, separates families and treats fundamental constitutional rights as optional.” Co‑founder DaMareo Cooper praised the detainees’ “extraordinary courage” in speaking out despite the risk.
Why it Matters
The smuggled archive from T Don Hutto reveals more than isolated misconduct; it lays bare a pattern of systemic neglect within a private immigration detention system that operates largely out of public view. By giving voice to those who are otherwise silenced, the testimonies underscore the human cost of current policies and fuel a growing demand for transparency, accountability and reform. As the debate over immigration enforcement intensifies, the stories of these detainees serve as a stark reminder that behind every legal proceeding is a real person enduring profound hardship, making the call for humane treatment impossible to ignore.
