What's at stake:
Since USCIS now requires migrants to bring their own interpreters to appointments, many immigrants face language barriers among other barriers that can make it difficult to understand their due process rights.
In March, Esterella’s brother and his wife were detained in Fresno while working on thinning orchards.
All Esterella knew was that her brother and his wife had been taken from the fields in Fresno, and their vehicle was left on the side of the road. There was no time to make arrangements for the couple’s children, who were located in Fresno County.
Esterella is not her real name. Fresnoland chose to use the pseudonym to protect the 42-year-old caretaker and her family from possible retaliation.
She was born in Guerrero, Mexico and, while she speaks Spanish, her primary language is Mixteco. For the first two or three days after her brother essentially vanished into federal custody, Esterella couldn’t get any information, with the enormous, frequently antagonistic federal bureaucracy even more challenging to navigate by language barriers.
She quickly took custody of her brother’s three young boys but had no answers for them about their parents.
“The thing is, I’m out of work right now, too,” Esterella said in a recent interview with Fresnoland. “I’m worried about my nephews and my own children, I have two of my own, plus the rent is very expensive. My brother used to help me, but since he isn’t here now, I have to do everything myself so we don’t get evicted.”
Finally, after several grueling, stressful days, she heard from her brother. He was in Tijuana, already deported, separated from his sons by the U.S. government.
And Esterella wants to know why.
Why didn’t immigration officials give him a chance to make arrangements for his children? Why is it impossible for family members to even locate their loved ones in custody, forget about communicating directly with them.
And her story is far from unique.
For many Indigenous migrants from Mexico and Central America living in the Central Valley, language barriers, a lack of identification documents and fears of immigration enforcement can make it difficult to traverse an immigration system that was never built for them.
The Mexican Consulate in Fresno estimates Indigenous people make up roughly 20% of migrants from Mexico served across Fresno, Kern, Tulare, Madera, Merced, Mariposa, Kings and Inyo counties.
Those communities include Mixtec, Zapotec, Purépecha, Nahua, Chatino and Triqui people who migrated from states including Oaxaca, Guerrero, Michoacán, Puebla and Chiapas.
And these communities speak a range of Indigenous languages that federal offices do not provide interpretation for and immigration authorities have stopped providing interpreters in most cases. Some federal offices can provide limited Spanish interpretation services, but that wouldn’t be helpful to Esterella’s family, or to any other Indigenous people who don’t speak Spanish.
“It’s very sad to see what the children are going through; it’s heartbreaking,” Esterella said. “The little ones ask me, ‘When are we going back? When can we go to the park?’ There were so many issues my brother couldn’t resolve. That’s why things have been so hard.”
‘Spanish interpretation is not enough’
For Indigenous migrants facing deportation, language barriers can mean the difference between defending your right to stay and accidentally signing your own deportation order, according to Fresno immigration attorney Armida Mendoza.
“Spanish interpretation is not enough,” Mendoza said. “We need to at least try to find an appropriate interpretation and provide this person with the ability to fully understand their case.”
In one case, Mendoza assisted an Indigenous client from a rural community in Guerrero, Mexico, who was being held in immigration detention while suffering severe asthma attacks and was not receiving access to his inhaler.
“We wanted to ensure that the mom and the client understood what we were explaining,” Mendoza said. “We tried with different organizations to try to find a match for the interpreter, and we were unable to locate one.”
USCIS announced in August 2025 that people are now required to bring their own interpreters and follow specific guidelines when doing so. If someone is unable to find an interpreter for their interview date, then they must contact USCIS to reschedule to avoid having their application delayed or denied.
Eventually, family members helped bridge the communication gap, allowing attorneys to explain the man’s rights and connect him with legal assistance. He was released from detention within days.
Mendoza said such challenges are common in immigration cases involving Indigenous migrants, particularly in detention settings where decisions often move quickly.
“A lot of the time, ICE is providing inaccurate information to people as they’re detaining them, saying that they don’t have any rights and they basically have no options but to sign their deportation,” Mendoza said.
The Central Valley’s shortage of immigration attorneys and legal resources can make those obstacles even more treacherous, Mendoza said, especially for Indigenous farmworker communities concentrated in rural towns.
Mendoza said Indigenous migrants are often among the most vulnerable people navigating the immigration system, as language barriers, geographic isolation and racial profiling can compound one another. She said Indigenous communities face higher risks in their cases and are more likely to encounter situations where no one makes the effort to communicate with them.
“We need to slow down and stop treating Indigenous communities the same as any other native Spanish speaker,” Mendoza said. “They’re facing not only a hostile immigration system, but they’re also facing the inability to communicate or understand their situation.”
Language access can determine whether Indigenous migrants can fully understand their rights or whether they can meaningfully defend themselves in court, said Janet Martinez, executive director of Communidades Indígenas en Liderazgo (CIELO).
Through CIELO’s Center for Indigenous Languages and Power, the organization provides interpretation in Indigenous languages such as Mixteco, Zapoteco and Triqui in courtrooms, hospitals, schools and Mexican consulates in about 30 states. The service is provided both remotely and in person, including at the Mexican Consulate in Fresno.
“It’s really fundamental to have interpretation in these cases, because it allows you a better chance for your due process,” Martinez said. “If we’re unable to have that, then of course it weakens our chances and our ability to make a real case for ourselves without the interpretation.”
Last year, CIELO handled several thousand interpretation calls in Indigenous languages across the country, Martinez said. The organization is also working with researchers to map Indigenous language interpretation data to better understand migration patterns and the growing need for language access nationwide.
Despite being among the fastest-growing immigrant communities, Indigenous migrants from Mexico and Central America are often grouped under the broader Latino category. As a result, they have long pushed for separate recognition in data collection, Martinez said, which often fails to capture their identities accurately.
Even when migrants are able to find legal representation, a shortage of qualified Indigenous language interpreters can undermine their cases before they ever reach a judge, said Ambar Tovar, immigration legal services director for the UFW Foundation.
Tovar recently worked with an Indigenous woman seeking asylum whose dialect was so specific to her hometown that attorneys were unable to locate a qualified interpreter. While the legal team completed her asylum application, they warned the court that any omissions should not be held against her because interpretation in her native dialect was unavailable.
“In lay terms, that means that the court cannot adequately examine that person’s case,” Tovar said. “If they are not able to present testimony, evidence in support of their claim because there is a language barrier, then they haven’t been afforded due process.”
Under immigration law, she said, interpretation is part of an immigrant’s due process rights. But as immigration courts move cases more quickly, Indigenous migrants face an even greater disadvantage because securing interpreters for less common dialects often takes time.
“If we are already fighting very short timelines, that gets compounded for the Indigenous community, who then have to work even harder to secure proper interpretation support,” Tovar said.
Tovar said language barriers have also made Indigenous migrants more vulnerable to immigration scams and fraudulent legal services.
Access to basic services
Valeria Solorio, consul for protection and legal affairs at the Mexican Consulate in Fresno, said many Indigenous migrants lack regular immigration status and cannot obtain government-issued U.S. identification, making it harder to access healthcare or receive other services.
“Giving them an identity is what we call the first step to be able to protect their rights in the U.S.,” Solorio said. “Having access to an ID is crucial because that’s the main requirement that authorities will ask for if they want access to basic services.”
Solorio said the current immigration climate has also increased demand for information about legal rights. The consulate regularly hosts Know Your Rights workshops and has expanded access to information by offering presentations in Indigenous languages.
She urged community members to seek information directly from trusted sources as rumors and misinformation spread online.
“The consulate is here to assist them,” Solorio said. “We consider ourselves a safe zone, and we are committed to serving all Mexican nationals with dignity, respect and without discrimination.”
