The Brief

This story was originally reported by Shefali Luthra and Mel Leonor Barclay of The 19th. Meet Shefali and Mel and read more of their reporting on gender, politics and policy.

Cary López Alvarado, of Hawthorne, California, was nine months pregnant when she was arrested by immigration officials alongside her husband, an immigrant from Guatemala. Alvarado was held overnight but was never sent to a detention facility: After taking her into custody, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) learned she was a U.S. citizen.

Immediately after her release, she began to experience sharp pains in her stomach, according to a claim she filed against the federal government. She gave birth a few days later.

Angie Rodriguez, an immigrant from Colombia, was taken into ICE custody following a routine check-in with immigration officials in July, and soon after found out she was pregnant. At the Mesa Verde ICE Processing Center where she was held, Rodriguez could hardly bring herself to eat the small meals that the detention facility served because of how they looked and smelled, and her only other option was buying processed food like instant noodles and chips.

Rodriguez went on to miscarry while in custody, according to a lawsuit she filed against the federal government.

Antonia Aguilar Maldonano, a mother of two from El Salvador, was arrested by ICE on her way to work and detained at the Kandiyohi County Jail in Minnesota for almost a month. Her youngest child is 22 months old and still nursing; he has acid reflux and an allergy to other forms of milk. The jail was not equipped to house someone who was nursing, said Gloria Contreras Edin, her lawyer: It did not have a breast pump when Aguilar Maldonado arrived, forcing her to use her hands to massage milk out until the facility was able to buy a pump.

Antonia Aguilar Maldonano, a mother of two from El Salvador, was arrested by ICE on her way to work and detained at the Kandiyohi County Jail in Minnesota for almost a month.

(

Courtesy Antonia Aguilar Maldonano

)

Lawyers successfully argued for her release on bond — $10,000, paid for by members of her church — while the government makes the case that she be deported.

A Biden-era policy restricts ICE from arresting or detaining immigrants who are pregnant, postpartum or nursing, except in extreme circumstances. While President Donald Trump has not formally rescinded the policy, it’s clear from lawsuits, news reports and advocates for immigrants who are detained that it’s not being followed.

Quantifying the exact number of pregnant, postpartum or nursing immigrants in custody has become impossible: This March, Congress let lapse a requirement that the administration report twice a year on how many of these immigrants are being held in immigration facilities. Since the fall of 2019, Congress had required the Department of Homeland Security to publicly report the count every six months and include “detailed justification” for every single detained immigrant who was pregnant, postpartum or nursing.

ICE did not respond to The 19th’s request for this data.

While the agency said in a statement in August that pregnant immigrants are receiving sufficient care in custody, medical professionals say the conditions in these facilities can heighten the risk for complications. Limited food can impact nutrition at a vulnerable time; access to medical appointments is spotty and often not aligned with standards of care; and pregnant, postpartum and nursing detainees also face the stress of arrest and separation from their families.

The impact of arrests and detention

In 2021, following public outcry against the first Trump administration’s immigration policies, the Biden administration directed ICE not to detain pregnant, postpartum or nursing people except in “exceptional circumstances" — they are a national security threat or pose immediate harm to themselves or other people. Those who are detained are supposed to be held in facilities suited to appropriate health care. ICE-employed medical professionals are supposed to provide weekly updates on those detainees to relevant agency directors. The ICE Health Service Corps is also supposed to keep consistent records of all pregnant, postpartum and nursing detainees, providing monthly updates to the organization’s leadership.

Since returning to the White House, Trump has not formally rescinded that policy, but administration officials argued in court that he had done so implicitly through a sweeping anti-immigration executive order that supercharged immigration enforcement. A federal judge refuted that argument, but on its website, ICE says the policy is “not reflective of current practice.”

“We're seeing more pregnant women detained again after not seeing much of that, at least not in ICE detention,” said Amanda Heffernan, a longtime nurse-midwife and professor of midwifery at Seattle University.

Rebecca Cassler, an attorney at the American Immigration Lawyers Association, said her organization’s pro bono program has seen an increase in cases of detained pregnant, postpartum and nursing people. She says no one outside ICE really knows how many, but it’s enough to make her “very concerned.”

Though the federal government has not made public how many pregnant people have been detained, Democratic lawmakers have published multiple investigations documenting known cases.

One report, published this summer by the office of Sen. Jon Ossoff of Georgia, identified 14 credible cases of pregnant women being mistreated in detention facilities. The report included a description of pregnant women sleeping on cell floors, one detainee being told to “just drink water” when needing medical support, and another miscarrying alone after days of bleeding.

ICE has disputed the report. "Pregnant women receive regular prenatal visits, mental health services, nutritional support, and accommodations aligned with community standards of care. Detention of pregnant women is rare and has elevated oversight and review. No pregnant woman has been forced to sleep on the floor," ICE said in a statement on its website.

A September 18 letter signed by 29 Democratic senators and addressed to Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem directed federal officials to clarify just how many pregnant, postpartum and breastfeeding people are being detained, how many have been deported and what health care is being made available to them. DHS has not acknowledged receipt, said a spokesperson for Sen. Patty Murray, a Democrat from Washington who organized the letter.

“We do not know how many pregnant women are in ICE custody, whether U.S. citizen babies have been born in ICE custody, and what provisions have been made for mothers’ and children’s health, safety, and wellbeing,” the senators wrote.

The Women’s Refugee Commission, an advocacy group, is seeking records from Homeland Security pertaining to pregnant, postpartum or nursing individuals who have been detained. It recently launched its own independent tracker, encouraging health providers, lawyers and family members to submit information about pregnant people who have been detained. The commission said it’s too early to provide an accurate count from its tracker.

Zain Lakhani, a lawyer and director of migrant rights and justice for the commission, said credible reports of pregnant people being detained suggest a frequency higher than ICE’s policy would suggest.

“It would be shocking that we would be able to have this level of detained pregnant people under the guidance,” she said. “We are seeing just this shocking number of detained postpartum and pregnant women.”

Dozens of people participate in an anti-ICE rally outside of the Brooklyn Metropolitan Detention Center on Sept. 2, 2025, in New York City.

(

Spencer Platt

/

Getty Images

)

Workers helping integrate deported immigrants in Honduras told researchers from the Women’s Refugee Commission that nursing women who were deported had not received enough food and water to continue lactating.

“They arrive with hardly any milk — or milk that looks like water — and this affects the babies’ weight,” one worker said, according to a report published by the organization.

The impact of arrests and detention

By the time Aguilar Maldonado left the jail, her breast milk had started to dry up, Contreras Edin said. She is particularly worried about the impact of detention on her children, who were not with her and now follow her wherever she goes, including to the bathroom. Her boyfriend has been deported; she is asking a judge to let her leave voluntarily — a process that has fewer legal penalties than being deported — so she and her children can follow him.

“Her children were traumatized and her youngest was especially traumatized,” Contreras Edin said. “That bond was broken during detention and that left a permanent impression on her children.”

There is no way to ethically research how detention specifically may affect pregnancy outcomes, including whether it could increase the possibility of miscarriage, said Dr. Carolyn Sufrin, an associate professor of obstetrics and gynecology at Johns Hopkins University who studies the reproductive health of incarcerated women. But evidence does show that physical and psychological strain — the kind people can suffer while detained — threatens the health of a pregnancy and can mean greater risk of preterm birth.

“I’m very concerned because of the conditions we’ve already heard about that could be increasing the risks of adverse outcomes,” Sufrin said. “I’m very concerned about the outcomes for these moms as well as for the outcomes for their babies.”

ICE did not respond to a request for comment on the conditions or available accommodations for pregnant, postpartum or nursing immigrants.

Alvarado, who is seeking $1 million following her arrest, citing “the unconstitutional conduct, unlawful arrest, and the tortious conduct of Border Patrol and ICE agents,” said her daughter is healthy and growing. But she’s still dealing with the aftermath of her detention.

Footage of the arrest shows federal agents holding her hands behind her — despite guidance advising that officers generally not use physical restraints on pregnant people and that, if they do, they should keep a pregnant person’s hands in front.

Her husband has now been deported, and Alvarado has no income. She’s watching her savings dwindle and relying on her family to help care for her little girl. She said she was unsure if she’d have to pick up multiple jobs to make ends meet — and if so, who would be able to care for her infant. She remembers the terror she felt while in government custody.

“Every time I see a news or video, it does rewind in my head,” she said. “It does get me very emotional, seeing stuff like that.”

Victoria Petty, an attorney with the Lawyers' Committee for Civil Rights of the San Francisco Bay Area who is representing Rodriguez — the woman who suffered a miscarriage in detention — said that she first connected with her client’s husband in late August, about a month after his wife’s detention.

He had left Petty a voicemail and text explaining that his wife was pregnant in a detention center and that he was really worried about her. Days later, he called again. “He’s crying on the other line, and he's like, ‘She had a miscarriage. I don't know what to do. She's in the hospital. Help,’” Petty recalled.

Rodriguez described in court records being “unignorably hungry” inside the Bakersfield, California, detention facility and lacking prenatal health care and education for weeks after her pregnancy was confirmed. Eventually, she began to see brown discharge and was taken to an off-site hospital where, days later, health care providers confirmed she had miscarried.

Petty moved quickly to file a lawsuit claiming unconstitutional detention. Court documents show that upon release from the hospital, Rodriguez was placed in medical isolation at the ICE detention center.

“It was very scary. She was in pain. So after this really traumatic experience, and her going to the hospital and confirming that they did not see the fetus on the ultrasound — after all of that, they brought her back to the detention center and put her in medical isolation,” Petty said, adding that her client was distraught.

Petty said it’s hard to determine whether detention conditions caused or contributed to Rodriguez’ miscarriage, a very wanted first pregnancy. But, she said, it’s important to consider the stress of being suddenly detained in a van — her client is from Colombia; kidnappings and murders have left lasting scars on the Latin American nation — along with the strain and lack of food options in detention.

“These are the conditions that she was in when she was pregnant. And we cannot rule out that having been under that level of stress and fear and having that little care contributed to her pregnancy loss,” Petty said.

Heffernan, who has worked with several immigrants who were detained while pregnant, said she has seen pregnant immigrants get a few small accommodations: being placed in a lower bunk instead of the top bunk for sleep or getting extra milk with their meals and sometimes an extra sandwich or snack before bedtime.

Medical care, she said, can be “very haphazard and spotty,” with prenatal appointments often not happening on schedule.

“You do see people getting a prenatal visit here and there, but not in a timely fashion, and not according to the standard of care for people that are outside,” Heffernan said. “For instance, in a couple of people that I've been in contact with recently, one had been in detention for several months and had had no prenatal care at all. Another had had one visit.”

Pregnant immigrants are also more vulnerable to more severe cases of COVID-19, flu and other illnesses, which spread quickly in crowded places like detention centers.

There is an extensive list of best practices for detained pregnant and postpartum people, Sufrin said, including but not limited to regular access to comprehensive physical and mental health care, nutrition, the ability to exercise and adequate housing.

But from a medical standpoint, she said, “The best practices would be not to detain them.”

This story first appeared on Long Beach Post.

From his veranda on the Peninsula, VR Venkataraman gets a front-row seat as wave after wave fueled by Tropical Storm Rachel slams the bulkhead and sprays upwards, more than two stories into the air.

For now, his defenses are holding.

In recent days, city officials and work crews reinforced the bulkhead with 12-by-2 boards and added vertical columns supported by wooden braces, riveted into the boardwalk at the angles Venkataraman determined would provide the most support. He’s not an engineer, but he’s acting like one to protect his Seaside Walk home.

“I did the geometry, figured it out, taught the crew how to do it, and did one with them,” said Venkataraman, a former doctor who now owns an Indian-Mexican fusion cafe. “I’m a human being with adequate knowledge and experience of life. That’s all.”

He is one of many Long Beach Peninsula residents taking swift, creative action in an attempt to save their homes after high surf and tides from multiple storms have eroded beaches and battered properties along the coast. On Saturday, though some residents expressed frustration that there wasn’t more preventative action ahead of this fall’s extreme weather, they said they appreciated how the city has sprung into action and partnered with them to salvage whatever they can. Venkataraman praised Jake Heflin with the fire department and Cory Forrester of Parks, Recreation and Marine for their work to help him harden his property, as well as the support provided by Councilmember Kristina Duggan.

“It’s a process of learning,” Venkataraman said.

On Saturday, city crews continued to shore up beaches where sand was washed away as surf driven by Hurricane Marie pounded the Peninsula last month. By morning, sand berms were piled up ahead of high tide. Other emergency repairs included pumping water off streets and filling in the exposed bulkhead with 1,000 sandbags. Storm drains appeared clear and were able to receive water from flooded streets.

“In an emergency, we act. We spend the money we need to. We protect life and safety, but then we record all of those costs,” City Manager Tom Modica said at a press conference Saturday afternoon.

More than $1 million in one-time costs has already been spent so far, he said. The city will aggressively pursue funding from other sources as it undertakes a seven-part plan for near- and long-term resiliency, Modica said. The city is currently in conversation with the governor’s Office of Emergency Services, he added.

More than $1 million spent so far

Venkataraman was not prepared last month when high surf rushed into his ground floor and dumped more than a foot of sand, rubble and shells into his crawl space, he said. He was forced to rip out several feet of drywall and air out his home with 66 heaters and 18 dehumidifiers from Home Depot.

His first floor was still torn up when powerful waves charged by Tropical Storm Rachel arrived at his door again this week. But this time, he knew he had to take quicker preventative action. He reinforced the planter on his lower level with wood and sandbags and bolstered the bulkhead with various supports.

Though he and his family evacuated and are staying in another home they own, he has been returning to his Peninsula residence during high tides to check on the reinforcements and evaluate what else needs to be done.

He said he now hopes to reinforce the bulkhead on the ocean side, adding 2-by-4 planks for stability. And he said he will continue to periodically tighten the rivets on the support beams, as they loosen with each wall of water that crashes down.

Caught off guard by Hurricane Marie

Other residents have also stepped in to buttress the bulkhead. On Friday, the sand berm protecting 62nd Place washed away, and waves “brought the whole ocean and sand down the street,” said Marc Moore, who lives there. Once the water had receded, he started picking up 10-foot pieces of wood and digging them into the sand near the bulkhead — a DIY solution in the hopes of taking a bit of power out of each swell. “Every wave you can stop might protect somebody’s home,” he said. He added the city should have done more to avoid this current disaster, but now they were fully activated and working closely with residents.

The worst may be yet to come

Some residents said they were anxious for what was to come throughout the weekend; the National Weather Service issued a coastal flood warning and a high surf advisory on Sunday as rainy weather set to arrive threatened more damage. Flooding impacts could be the most significant the region has seen this season, according to the NWS.

Eight properties were red-tagged as too dangerous for residents to remain, and several structures noticeably creaked and sagged as the waves continued to hit. City officials said they expect the coastal erosion and property damage to worsen on Sunday and throughout the El Niño season.

Still, Venkataraman and his neighbors remained hopeful and focused on action.

“It may be a losing battle,” Venkataraman said, adding he is not ready to give up. “I’m a warrior. I will fight until the bitter end.”

Police officers in cities across the U.S. are quick to extol the virtues of real-time crime centers as a game changer that helps them find missing children, monitor large events from the skies and scope out dangerous scenes before putting an officer in harm's way.

Hundreds of police departments have one of these central hubs, which have existed for years. But many are now being powered with AI software, such as Fusus, from the public-safety technology giant Axon.

Fusus, by Axon's own description, is a "rapidly deployable real-time crime center in the cloud." It functions like the brain of a crime center, synthesizing the data it pulls in and allowing police command centers to watch an entire city from one place.

Flock cameras, the automated license plate readers (ALPRs), have faced intense backlash in recent months amid stories of abuse. Yet privacy experts say they're just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to police surveillance.

"I have been watching the debate about Flock with a little bit of puzzlement," says Andrew Guthrie Ferguson, a law professor at George Washington University. "Because real-time crime centers have not just ALPR cameras and sensors, but video analytics and drones and essentially a way to create a visual single-pane-of-glass vision of what's going on in a city, with time machine capabilities where you can go back and investigate crime."

How AI-powered software fuels real-time crime centers

Tools like Axon Fusus, which is a leader in this type of software, also pull in footage and data from police body cameras, law enforcement dashcams, 911 dispatch, gunshot detectors and surveillance cameras, including sometimes those of private businesses that opt in.

Its use is growing fast. In 2024, the technology news site 404 Media reported that just over 100 law enforcement agencies had deployed Fusus, which was then its own company and was acquired by Axon that year. The number of law enforcement agencies using the tool has more than doubled since then, according to Axon.

Police officers in departments that use Fusus told NPR that the tool serves as a time-saver and a force multiplier for their agencies.

"We could put analysts in a room and have them access 40 different systems," says Benjamin Weir, a captain with the Oklahoma City Police Department. "But that slows them down. So the biggest leveraging factor for a real-time information center to be productive is to have software that can incorporate all these things into one usable area."

Quincy Whitner, a lieutenant with the Greenville County Sheriff's Office in South Carolina, says Fusus helped his department find a man who shot a police officer and fled the scene, by combining city surveillance footage with license plate data.

"Instead of having to go to a million different systems, a million different places to find answers, we can get it in one platform in one place somewhat instantaneously," says Whitner.

Privacy concerns when surveillance is easy

But that push-of-a-button mentality is exactly what makes privacy experts nervous.

Rachel Levinson-Waldman, director of the Liberty and National Security Program at New York University's Brennan Center for Justice, says even a few decades ago, there were more hurdles to overcome when police officers wanted to surveil members of the community. They might have to physically follow someone or do a stakeout. It took time, staffing and resources.

"In addition to all of the things that you would want in place requiring some kind of criminal predicate to launch it, there is just this kind of organic friction that imposes some constraints," she says. "As that friction gets lifted, it becomes easier and easier to do investigations, to look at people and even to pull up broad-scale information."

Police told NPR that they understand those concerns but that the good — the potential for stopping and solving crime — outweighs the bad — the potential for misuse and mass surveillance.

"I understand people's concerns, but if you're not up to no good, we're not looking at you. We are looking at people who are committing crimes," says Michelle Iezzi, deputy director of the Operational Intelligence Division at the Montgomery County Police Department in Maryland.

Axon did not respond to multiple requests for comment. But CEO Rick Smith said on the latest earnings call that the company strongly values privacy: "We just have to be thoughtful and understand those concerns and say, 'Look, this is a tool to amplify human ability, not to replace human judgment.'"

But there is broad potential for abuse when a police department is always watching, privacy experts say; surveillance technology can sweep up innocent people by mistake, and it can enable targeting.

"What happens if there is a government that wants to silence a particular group or even a particular person? And you just built the architecture of surveillance that makes that super-easy," says Ferguson, the George Washington University law professor.

Courts are moving slowly in deciding when or if this kind of surveillance crosses a constitutional line. In the meantime, Ferguson says, lawmakers could act by limiting how long data is stored, for instance, mandating regular audits or restricting surveillance near sensitive sites like abortion clinics or immigration courts.

He says those conversations should be happening before a tool ever is used.

Copyright 2026 NPR

Once a year Crenshaw Boulevard comes alive with music, food and celebration at the Taste of Soul Family Festival. What organizers bill as Southern California’s “largest free street festival,” now in its 21st year, takes over nearly three miles between Obama Boulevard and Stocker Street on Saturday, Oct.17.

Come on in, it’s free

Crowds fill Crenshaw Boulevard at Taste of Soul.

(

E. Mesiyah McGinnis

/

Los Angeles Sentinel

)

And “free” is the operative word.

“At Coachella, it's $500 a ticket. At Taste of Soul, you come free,” said Pamela Bakewell with Bakewell Media, the festival's organizer.

Danny J. Bakewell Sr. — chairman of the organization and Pamela’s brother — pitched the festival to then-L.A. Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa.

“He went to him and said, ‘Look, if they can do these things in New Orleans, then why can't we do it in Los Angeles?’”

Tiffany Haddish with Danny J. Bakewell Sr. at Taste of Soul 2025.

(

Ian Foxx

/

Los Angeles Sentinel

)

That first festival in 2005 drew about 25,000 people, according to organizers. Now, some 350,000 people attend every year.

A world of vendors

Organizers say the festival has become an economic boost for small businesses in Southern California, featuring over 100 food vendors of serving a variety of cuisines.

A food vendor cooks at Taste of Soul 2018.

(

Trarell Torrence

/

Los Angeles Sentinel

)

“It's the biggest event that I do all year,” said Brian McMillan, owner of The Kobbler King in South L.A. “People place orders after the event. They taste the cobbler;  it sets us up for Thanksgiving.”

McMillan has been a vendor at Taste of Soul for 20 years.

Montell Jordan performs on the KJLH Music Stage at Taste of Soul 2025.

(

Malcolm Ali

/

Los Angeles Sentinel

)

“You got food from all over. I have a friend from East Africa; his food is some of the best food I've ever had, and it's extremely healthy,” McMillan said.

And plenty more to see

Visitors and staff at the Watts Healthcare tent during Taste of Soul 2025.

(

Ian Foxx

/

Los Angeles Sentinel

)

McMillan said he relishes seeing different generations of neighbors and customers come by to say hello and get some cobbler.

“It's like a family reunion, and I think that's very important because you don't see that with too many festivals at all.”

Long Beach is famously surrounded by a breakwater to protect its harbor, but that massive barrier hasn’t been able to shield homes on the city’s Peninsula from hurricane-charged swells recently.

Over the last few weeks, strong waves have repeatedly stripped away sand, broken through a boardwalk bulkhead and threatened to collapse beachside homes by clawing away the sand underneath them. All of this keeps happening in a narrow stretch of homes along the Peninsula, mostly between 62nd and 69th places.

Those few blocks are vulnerable to swells coming from the south because of an opening in the breakwater and jetty that allows boat access to Alamitos Bay.

In order to protect those homes, Long Beach typically builds a sand berm to block waves. When waves rip it away, the breakwater keeps it from washing out to sea, and it instead piles up to the west near downtown (a phenomenon called littoral drift.) The city spends $1 million to $1.5 million a year on trucking that sand back to the Peninsula and rebuilding the beach.

This year, it hasn’t been enough.

El Niño’s warm waters have supercharged high tides. That, combined with hurricane-driven waves coming up from the south, has stripped so much sand away from the Peninsula’s beach that the wooden bulkhead under the coastal boardwalk has been exposed.

At high tide, breakers now slap directly against the wood, repeatedly splintering it.

The city is hoping to soon start a $11.4 million dredging project to gather enough sand to rebuild the beach and protect the boardwalk, but that can’t happen while it’s getting pounded by the surf.

There may be some relief soon. Hurricane season in the eastern Pacific runs from mid-May through November. Hurricanes later in the year are much more likely to form in the western Pacific — as opposed to the southeast — and the federal breakwater that shields Long Beach’s harbor blunts the swells that originate from the west. That’s why much of California’s western coast may still see dangerous waves through the winter, though Long Beach is usually safe.

To bolster the Peninsula’s defenses, Long Beach is now considering a $6.8 million plan to build a rock revetment — a wall of boulders that would sit behind the beach as a backup.

This aerial view of the Peninsula was included in a city report on ways to replenish its sand.

(

City of Long Beach

/

via Long Beach Post

)

But for a long-term solution, officials say it may cost $150 million to $350 million for a full habitat and shoreline restoration — funded partly by state mitigation credits.

It’s the kind of project that would take massive amounts of approvals and planning and likely some delays. The city council, for now, has approved $30,000 to look into it further.