Just about every Saturday, Ulises Parias drives two hours to visit his father, Carlitos Ricardo "Richard" Parias, at the Adelanto Detention Center in California.
They talk on the phone regularly. Parias tells his father about his 16-year-old sister and about his college classes.
Occasionally, his dad's health comes up: his left arm hurts and he gets headaches, fevers and blurry vision. It has been over eight months since Parias' father was shot by federal agents during an immigration enforcement arrest in Los Angeles. Immigration attorneys representing Parias allege he is not receiving adequate medical care, including pain medication and physical therapy, following an encounter with federal agents that resulted in Parias being shot near his left elbow.
"The last thing he told me was, have a good day at school. Then, like five minutes later, I heard some commotion outside," Parias, 20, said in an interview with NPR. "My heart stopped for a minute, and then I quickly went outside [to] the streets. And that's when I found my dad's car. The window was shattered."
Attorneys for Parias have tried to secure his release from detention while his immigration case plays out.
So far, that request has been denied. Parias' case, his attorneys say, is one that exemplifies the challenges facing many detainees in a judicial and detention system with limited resources and dwindling avenues for any recourse, including for people with no criminal record.
This year brought increased scrutiny on federal law enforcement's use of force, after two federal agents shot and killed two U.S. citizens in Minneapolis, and on the conditions within immigration detention centers, including medical care amid some of the highest numbers of people in detention and of deaths of those in custody. Parias' case showcases the nexus of the issues — and the narrow scope of oversight and resources within the judicial and agency level for someone injured by the federal agency that is also detaining them.
"There are not enough people, and there's not enough concern. And that's leading to permanent disability and death," said Margaret Hellerstein, an immigration attorney representing Parias. "The legal avenues have been exhausted at this point."
Parias entered the country illegally in 2002 from Mexico and spent the last two decades living in the Los Angeles area, including with his two U.S. citizen children.
He gained a large social media following, monetizing his TikTok account as a primary source of income as he shared community events. When the Trump administration increased enforcement in Los Angeles last year, Parias began documenting immigration arrests and federal officer presence for his more than 250,000 followers. After more than two decades of living and working in the U.S. unnoticed, his activism put him on ICE's radar.
"I was worried. I was scared. I would keep telling him, 'Please be careful,'" Ulises Parias recounted. "'The only thing they care about is that you're not a citizen. That's all.'"
Encounter with ICE leads to shooting
In October, Parias was leaving his house when vehicles driven by federal officers blocked his path. Body camera footage released by the Los Angeles Times shows several federal agents surrounding the vehicle.
"I'm going to break the window," one yelled, shortly after Parias came to a stop, and began to smash the passenger-side window of the car Parias was driving, while holding a gun in the other hand. Yelling in Spanish can be heard from officers saying, "I am going to shoot you" and "turn off the car." Others yell, "Police, get out!"
Several officers drew their firearms as Parias appeared to try to move his car, which was blocked by a larger police vehicle.
Parias can be heard yelling in Spanish, "I don't have anything" and "kill me."
Officers yelled various instructions, including "if you move we will shoot" and "turn off the car," and seconds later, an officer opened fire.
"All use-of-force incidents involving individuals in ICE custody are documented and subject to internal review, consistent with ICE detention standards and DHS oversight requirements," an unnamed DHS spokesperson told NPR in a statement. The agency did not respond to questions about the outcome of any investigation into this use of force.
Following the shooting, Parias was taken to a hospital to be treated for a gunshot wound near his left elbow. The bullet also hit a U.S. marshal who was a part of the operation. The federal government brought criminal charges against Parias: assault on a federal officer.
Parias did not have any criminal history or infraction before the incident where he was shot, Hellerstein said.
NPR reviewed medical records from November to May that show Parias reported consistent pain and decreased mobility. A report from May includes details of pain radiating from his neck, down his arm, to his hand on his left side. The report also says no therapy was completed and Parias had been in a sling for six months. The records detail that there is decreased mobility in the left shoulder, and when "palpating his left forearm … presents tears in his eyes due to pain."
For months following the shooting, he was primarily prescribed Motrin, seizure and nerve pain medication gabapentin and muscle rub cream for the pain, as well as other medications.
DHS told NPR that from November to June, Parias has been seen by a nurse who, among other things, provided him a brace and sling, educated him on exercises to improve his range of motion and prescribed various pain and anti-inflammatory medications.
In March, a nurse assessed Parias for complaints of increasing pain, and the nurse noted decreased mobility, prompting the nurse to submit a referral for an orthopedic evaluation, as well as additional medications. An orthopedic surgeon evaluated Parias and also provided a physical therapy referral, according to DHS, though by May his pain was still not relieving. He has seen a doctor as recently as this week.
Immigration detention hinges on a bill that passed with bipartisan support
After spending nearly a week in the hospital in October immediately after the shooting, Parias was placed in federal criminal custody while the charges against him played out in federal court. In November, he was released and transferred to ICE custody, which according to court records, was done pursuant to the Laken Riley Act.
That legislation was the very first bill President Trump signed into law in his second term.
The measure, passed with the help of Democrats, directs federal immigration enforcement to detain and deport those without legal status charged with minor theft or shoplifting, assault of a law enforcement officer, or crimes resulting in death or serious bodily injury of another person.
It broadly expanded the scope of who ICE would prioritize for detention.
In December, U.S. District Judge Fernando Olgin dismissed the charges against Parias, citing, among other reasons, that he had not received constitutionally adequate access to legal representation. The government is appealing that decision, disputing that Parias was deprived of access to counsel.
While Parias remained in ICE custody, immigration attorneys submitted a habeas petition in District Court also to Judge Olgin. That is a legal avenue to argue that a person should not be detained.
"No one is eligible for bond. No one is eligible for a [bond] hearing … You have to file a habeas," Hellerstein said. "Which means, unfortunately, that for people like Richard who are languishing in detention and have serious medical concerns, you could be waiting for your decision for months and months and months."
A federal judge then ordered an immigration judge to hold a bond hearing. In court filings to immigration court, ICE argued that the immigration judge didn't have jurisdiction over the case because of the Laken Riley Act. The judge, according to filings reviewed by NPR, agreed and ultimately denied bond, adding that she would have done so even if the act was not in effect because Parias could be considered a flight risk due to his lack of legal status.
"I don't think that he was given a constitutionally adequate bond hearing. And to be clear, this is not unique to him. It's the way the law is at the moment," Hellerstein said, adding that the Trump administration also created a mandatory detention policy in addition to the Laken Riley Act, which mandates that anyone who entered the country illegally be held in detention while they fight their case. That has resulted in high numbers of habeas petitions in federal courts.
Hellerstein is going back to Judge Olgin, who ordered the bond hearing, asking for him to let Parias out of detention. That request has been pending since February.
Limited options for recourse
Seeking additional help, the family and lawyers reached out to the office of Rep. Sydney Kamlager-Dove, D-Calif., who later visited Parias at the Adelanto Detention Center.
"I have a constituent who is being detained in a facility hours from where his family lives. Who is in pain," Kamlager-Dove said in an interview with NPR. "What I am seeking is for him to get the treatment that he needs so that he can heal and so he can also want to live."
Caseworkers in the congresswoman's office have been in touch with DHS about Parias, including with the ICE officer assigned to the case. But she said that although the agency has been responsive, including in facilitating her visits, it is not providing what she is asking for.
"What I need to hear is that he is going to physical therapy, he is getting the kind of antibiotics and medical and prescription medication that he needs to help him with his vision, to help him with his headaches, to help him with his pain," Kamlager-Dove said.
Recently, congressional Republicans approved $70 billion for immigration enforcement, including detention capacity. But internal oversight offices at the agency are unfunded, including those that specifically investigated complaints about immigration detention conditions such as allegations about insufficient access to medical care.
Without control of either chamber of Congress, Democratic lawmakers and immigration advocates have limited options to ask for help.
"We don't have that many oversight tools. We have stretched ourselves to the limit in the hearings as a party in the minority," Kamlager-Dove said.
In recent weeks, other Democrats have continued to go to detention centers, including in New Jersey and Texas, seeking to review detainees' access to food and medical care, and information about detention capacity. But without legislative might, the lawmakers' options to go further are dwindling. Like others in her party, Kamlager-Dove is eyeing the upcoming midterms as a moment for potential change.
"If we are victorious in November, then we will have a lot more tools at our disposal," she said.
Detention policy adds pressure to families to leave
In the meantime, Ulises, Parias' son, has been working to fix the car in which his father was shot. He has cleaned up the blood and the broken glass.
He picks his sister up from school, talks to his father nearly every day on the phone and has helped his family navigate the complicated legal landscape.
"Every time a lawyer came to the house to speak with us, I had to translate everything," he said. "So basically I was the only person basically helping out the family just because I was the oldest."
Hellerstein sees Parias' detention as another example of the administration using detention as a tool to encourage detained and other undocumented immigrants to opt to leave the country.
"For most people, ICE detention is not punitive. Detention is civil detention," Hellerstein said. "You are not in ICE detention because you're being punished. You're in ICE detention because they think you're a danger or a flight risk."
A DHS spokesperson, in the statement to NPR, also said, "ICE detention is still not punitive."
For someone like Parias, who does not have a criminal record, the allegation of him being a danger to a community is easy to refute, she said. But a flight risk could be anyone without a clear path to legal status.
For now, Parias' son is trying to focus on his grades as he works on earning a mechanical engineering degree and find moments of joy like watching the World Cup games. But even that is bittersweet.
"This is the first World Cup where I'm experiencing it alone. And it feels wrong. Honestly, it feels wrong knowing that I don't have my dad to watch it with me," Parias said. "So I'm hoping the next step is to get a call from the lawyer saying soon he will be with us again."
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