Across the country, children face immigration proceedings that could determine whether they can remain in the United States. Some of them are doing so without any legal representation. Since July 31, immigrant minors have had to navigate those proceedings without an attorney by their side, following the Trump administration’s decision to withhold funding from a federal legal services program.
The decision led to the expiration of a partnership between the U.S. government and the Acacia Center for Justice, whose network had provided legal services to more than 20,000 unaccompanied children – a minor who has no lawful immigration status in the United States and has no parent or legal guardian in the country available to provide care and physical custody.
Dalia Castillo-Granados, director of the Children’s Immigration Law Academy at the American Bar Association, said legal services for immigrant minors have varied across organizations following the disruptions in federal funding. Some organizations found other sources of funding or continued working on existing cases, while others reduced staff.
“The organizations that have been working with children are unable to provide the same legal services,” Castillo-Granados said.
The end of the contract does not necessarily mean that all of the more than 20,000 children automatically lost legal representation. Trudy Taylor Smith, senior administrator of policy and advocacy at Children’s Defense Fund-Texas, said some attorneys have continued representing children even without being paid.
“Many attorneys are doing their best to continue representing these kids as long as they possibly can, even without pay,” Taylor Smith said.
A Journey That is Not Over
Four years ago, the son of a Mexican woman left with a smuggler. He was 14. He swam across the Rio Grande and was detained by immigration authorities.
For three or four days, his mother (she asked not to have her name published due to immigration concerns), who was already living in the United States, did not know where he was.
“I was worried because I thought, ‘Oh, my son isn’t answering me. How is he? What happened to them?’” she recalled in Spanish.
He was later transferred to the Office of Refugee Resettlement, the federal agency responsible for the care and placement of unaccompanied children. ORR later contacted his mother as a potential sponsor.
Although his mother was already in the country, authorities processed him as an unaccompanied child because he had arrived without a parent or legal guardian traveling with him.
But leaving federal custody did not end his immigration case. His mother received his A-number, a government-issued identification number used in immigration proceedings, and began checking the court system to find out when he had to appear before a judge.
Over the next four years, he continued attending immigration hearings.
Days before his April 2026 hearing, the now-18-year-old kept telling his mother about the same fear. He had to travel from Austin to San Antonio to appear before an immigration judge again
“Mom, I’m scared they’re going to get me,” his mother recalled him saying. “I honestly don’t want to go back to my country. I want to be here with you.”
When the day of the hearing came, she did not go with him.
“I feel really bad when he goes by himself,” she said.
His mother waited outside the courthouse, fearful that entering could result in her detention.
The hearing ended without a resolution. His case remains open, and he is scheduled to return to court in April 2027.
When There is No Lawyer at the Table
For a child without an attorney, even understanding what a judge is asking can be difficult, said Marcela Evans, managing attorney at the Texas Immigration Law Council.
“If they don’t have an attorney, they don’t have anybody sitting with them at the table when they’re talking to the judge,” Evans said. “They don’t have somebody who understands maybe what the judge is even asking them.”
In Texas, ORR reported that 3,418 unaccompanied children were released to sponsors during fiscal year 2025, including 316 in Travis County. But those numbers do not show how many of those children currently have attorneys representing them in immigration proceedings.
Determining how many unaccompanied children in Texas are currently without an attorney is difficult, said Krystal Gómez, interim director of the children’s immigration network at Children at Risk.
Nationally, data from the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse shows the share of completed immigration court cases with legal representation fell from 63% in fiscal year 2021 to 32% in fiscal year 2026, though it does not specifically account for unaccompanied children.
The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services Office of Public Affairs told the Chronicle that ORR provided a grant supplement to the U.S. Committee for Refugees and Immigrants on Aug. 5 to provide temporary representation for children in ORR custody. The office also said that on Aug. 25, ORR expanded its cooperative agreement with USCRI to include appearances at immigration hearings, legal consultations, and direct representation for unaccompanied children and that it is providing legal representation and legal orientation for children in ORR custody nationwide, including in Texas.
ORR also said a review found that between November and March, at least 3,500 children per month did not have a notice of legal representation filed with the Department of Homeland Security or the Executive Office for Immigration Review.
An HHS spokesperson told ABC News that ORR had offered Acacia a new contract requiring the organization to provide information about the children it represented and submit invoices when filing applications for immigration relief. The organization said it rejected that bridge contract “because it would have required legal service providers to turn over confidential client information” to receive payment.
“Have Faith, Mom”
Having an attorney has not ended the young man’s court hearings. Before his April hearing, his mother said he was worried about the possibility of being deported.
“Well, I’m scared. I’m scared,” she recalled him saying.
Four years ago, she spent days not knowing where her son was. Today, he lives with her, continues his studies, and has an attorney. His immigration case remains open.
His mother said her own fear of immigration enforcement has made her reluctant to leave home, even for routine errands such as going to the grocery store.
In April 2027, he is scheduled to return to court. When his mother starts worrying about what could happen, she said, sometimes her son is the one who tries to reassure her.
“Have faith, Mom,” he tells her. “Everything is going to be OK.”
This article appears in October 9 • 2026.