A jarring sight plays out in federal immigration courts in Massachusetts every week: Children, often without their parents, appear before judges to fight their deportations.
Some go to court in person. Many appear on video, sitting stone-faced in lawyers’ offices. It’s not uncommon to see children aged 7 or 8 and younger summoned to court.
In Boston, immigration Judge Brenda O’Malley reads children the charges they face: “You are in removal proceedings. The government charges that you are present in the United States without permission or papers.”
As the Trump administration carries out its aggressive deportation agenda, immigrant children here and across the country are subject to court proceedings similar to the ones adults face. The core of these hearings happen behind closed doors, with almost no way for the public to know if the children are afforded legal rights and protections — or what rulings judges make on their future.
In Massachusetts, juvenile cases are heard in U.S. immigration courts in Boston and Chelmsford. On numerous visits, WBUR was able to watch group hearings for long lists of children. Called “masters” sessions, these are essentially status hearings, with few details about the individual cases disclosed. The judge is typically in the courtroom, while most children come before the bench by video.
When children do go to court in person, parents usually don’t accompany them, for fear of being detained by immigration agents.
The weekly sessions move swiftly and glimpses of family situations emerge: A young boy seated alone in front of a filing cabinet. A toddler babbling as she’s questioned by a judge. A group of kids packed into a large white-walled office. A boy whose brother died in Massachusetts while the family fought for legal status.
One morning, a father came to court in Boston with his two young children. The daughter wore a magenta-pink jacket, her feet swinging slightly above the floor. Her brother sat beside her, a little taller, but barely filling the seat.
As the judge addressed them, the father looked confused, struggling to follow the instructions in English.
The daughter leaned toward him, cupped her hand, and whispered a translation of the proceedings into his ear. She is 8 years old; her brother is 12.
The family fled Honduras in 2021 after enduring repeated home break-ins and violent threats, according to Juan, the father. WBUR agreed to use only his first name because his children’s immigration cases — separate from his own — are ongoing.
“If they receive deportation orders, I don’t know where they would go,” Juan said in a later interview with WBUR in Spanish. “Our whole family is here.”
Juan said at one hearing, a judge told him that without a lawyer, his children would have to represent themselves in court.
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‘Secret courtrooms’
Unlike other federal cases, court records for juveniles are not publicly available online. Hearing times are not posted on court websites, and the schedules are rarely available in the courthouse either. When it comes to each child’s individual hearing before a judge, the proceedings are kept secret.
Staff at both Massachusetts courthouses repeatedly declined to provide a reporter information about specific kids’ cases, saying hearing details are private.
“You have to ask all parties. They have to give permission,” one Boston clerk said. “We really can’t unless you have their permission.”
“We don’t want there to be secret courtrooms where people’s life and death decisions are made.”Shaina Aber, executive director of the Acacia Center for Justice
Unlike at most courts, clerks at immigration court in Boston are accessible only at a bank teller-sized window with a speaker vent. Asked when individual juvenile hearings would be held, clerks refused to disclose times or locations.
Shaina Aber, executive director of the Acacia Center for Justice in Washington, D.C., said reporters aren’t the only ones being denied access. Her group’s volunteers have had trouble even observing masters hearings, she said.
“ We don’t want there to be secret courtrooms where people’s life and death decisions are made,” Aber said. “We have to be able to protect the right of the public to know how justice is being administered in this country.”
The blanket closure WBUR found for juveniles’ individual sessions in the state appears to break the government’s own rules. The federal agency that oversees these courts, the Executive Office for Immigration Review, on its website says immigration hearings are “generally open to the public.” Its website lists “limited exceptions,” like cases involving national security, terrorism or abuse.
A spokesperson for the immigration review office in an email did not address whether the schedule for individual hearings should be blocked from the public, nor if the Massachusetts courts are improperly restricting access on a routine basis. She said to observe immigration court hearings, “members of the media are encouraged to coordinate their visits” with their office.
This level of control over court sessions is unusual in the American court system, where members of the public can generally walk into any courtroom to observe a case.
Aber, of the Acacia Center, said access to juvenile courts around the U.S. largely evaporated starting last June. Prior to that, Aber said, courts would routinely work with nonprofits like hers, helping connect people with free legal services when possible. Some courts would even send dockets in advance to give pro-bono attorneys time to prepare.
“All of these limitations on legal access and public access at the court are really undermining our commitment to children, to their wellbeing, and to their safety,” she said. “This is not what we want justice to look like in a country of laws.”
Nationally, more than 900,000 children faced deportation in 2025, according to federal immigration court data analyzed by the Vera Institute of Justice, an immigration research nonprofit. Many face these cases alone for a number of reasons. Some minors came across the border on their own. In other instances, parents have been deported, or await rulings in their own immigration cases.
Paola Gentile-Goldental, managing director for the Boston office of Kids In Need of Defense, said her office has seen a spike in deportation notices sent to juveniles.
“We have seen children under the age of 12 receiving removal orders more than ever in the last three decades,” Gentile‑Goldental said. In just one hearing in January, WBUR observed 10 children ordered deported “in absentia,” meaning their cases were decided after they failed to appear.
In many cases, kids miss court when they don’t have a lawyer.
According to an analysis by the Vera Institute, 43% of juvenile cases in Massachusetts are unrepresented. In essence, 13,000 kids didn’t have lawyers, as of 2025. This number does not include children who have their cases consolidated with family or who are in the government’s custody.
“We have seen children under the age of 12 receiving removal orders more than ever in the last three decades.”Paola Gentile-Goldental
Immigrant children being called to court is not new. In 2018, the Trump administration faced national backlash after reports showed toddlers and young children appearing alone in court after family separations.
Under former President Joe Biden, cases for unaccompanied children reached record highs. In response, the administration created a specialized “children’s docket” in 2023 and installed many child-friendly practices for courts to follow.
These practices included appointing child advocates to oversee cases and connect children to specialized pro-bono representation. In court, judges were even instructed to not wear their official robes; some allowed children to bring along a trusted adult or toys, if necessary, to make them feel more comfortable during their testimony.
The second Trump administration dismantled the docket and rolled back those policies. Last year, it also cut legal aid for migrant children.
Although border crossings have dropped sharply under Trump’s immigration crackdown, attorneys say more children are ending up in deportation proceedings. Families’ appeals for asylum can trigger orders for children to show up in court.
Boston immigration attorney Max Gonzalez, who works on juvenile cases, said given the government’s current hardline stance on immigration, he has largely stopped encouraging people living in the U.S. without legal status to start asylum cases.
“I advise people often to stay under the radar,” Gonzalez said. “At this point, there’s no benefit to putting yourself in proceedings.”
He said ramped‑up enforcement has led to more family separations, with children left behind when parents are detained or deported.
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What kids face in court
Jessica Pelletier, an attorney with Ascentria Care Alliance, a local nonprofit that represents unaccompanied immigrant children, said the need for pro-bono legal services far outpaces what groups like hers can provide.
“We’re working hundreds of cases, and we want to help as many people as possible,” Pelletier said. “But there are only so many hours in the day.”
Even with a lawyer, the court experience is a lot for kids to grasp. An Everett boy arrested in October for allegedly bringing a knife to school and threatening another student was taken by federal immigration agents to a juvenile detention center in Virginia. The boy’s attorney, Andrew Lattarulo, said his family members couldn’t go to court in-person due to their own immigration statuses.
The judge had asked if the boy “understood the pros and cons of what he’s doing and if he understands what’s going on,” Lattarulo recounted at the time. “ I had to, of course, explain it to a 13-year-old, which is much different than dealing with an adult client.”
The family ultimately agreed for the boy to go voluntarily to Brazil, where they have family, to avoid a U.S. deportation order.
“This seems to be the most humane thing that was allowed for him,” Lattarulo said.
WBUR was able to report on that proceeding only because a reporter managed to obtain the case number and locate the video stream, providing a window onto what a string of young children faced before a judge. Lattarulo was willing to discuss the Everett boy’s case, which was widely watched in Massachusetts.
Most cases don’t get this level of public scrutiny.
“Until you find yourself in this situation, and a single moment changes your life, you never expect life to become so complicated.”Juan
For Juan’s family, the future is uncertain. He said he’d hired an attorney who was charging nearly $10,000 for each of his two children. He thought he could manage that, until he fell from a roof at work and suffered a serious back injury. Out of work, the legal fees have become impossible.
Now, he said, the legal status of his children — and their futures in the United States — are in jeopardy.
“Until you find yourself in this situation, and a single moment changes your life, you never expect life to become so complicated,” Juan said.
For Juan’s kids and thousands like them, their fates lie in the hands of a federal judge, out of the public eye, while their families’ dreams of a better life are put on hold.
“You want your kids to be even better than you,” he said. “To reach things you never could.”
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WBUR’s Andrea Perdomo-Hernandez and Ally Jarmanning contributed to this report.
This article was originally published on WBUR.org.
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