The baby-faced teen called his mom for the fourth time that November day. He was homesick, but he wanted her to know he was OK.<\/p>\n
Benjamin Guerrero Cruz had recently turned 18, and he was farther from his mother and younger siblings than he\u2019d ever been before.<\/p>\n
But he wasn\u2019t off at college or starting a new job. He was calling from San Bernardino County, where he\u2019d been held in an immigration detention center for months.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have to be strong,\u201d he consoled his mother. <\/p>\n
In August, days before Benjamin was set to start his senior year at Reseda Charter High School, masked agents surrounded him as he walked his family\u2019s puppy, Athena. He said they did not identify themselves. <\/p>\n
He was still wearing what he slept in \u2014 black shorts and a T-shirt \u2014 when the agents arrested him, he told The Times in his first interview with a news outlet since his ordeal began.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know who they were, I didn\u2019t know what they wanted,\u201d he said. \u201cBut they handcuffed me and left me wondering: \u2018What did I do?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
Tricia McLaughlin, a spokesperson for the Department of Homeland Security, said that Benjamin, a Chilean national, overstayed his visa by more than two years. She said Border Patrol agents arrested Benjamin and placed him into the custody of Immigration and Customs Enforcement pending removal.<\/p>\n
The teenager had fled his home country to seek asylum in the U.S. because of threats of violence, according to the Immigrant Defenders Law Center, which is representing Benjamin in his immigration case and argued for his release in federal court. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Benjamin Guerrero Cruz, 18, was set to start his senior year of high school when he was arrested by immigration agents.<\/p>\n
(Courtesy of Benjamin Guerrero Cruz\u2019s family)<\/p>\n
Benjamin is among more than 10,000 undocumented immigrants who have been arrested in the L.A. area since raids began in June, according to the Department of Homeland Security<\/a>.<\/p>\n As Benjamin sat in ICE detention, community members \u2014 many of them local teachers \u2014 rallied around him and his family, raising tens of thousands of dollars and holding news conferences demanding his release.<\/p>\n But as weeks of detention turned into months, Benjamin obsessed over the school semester, well underway. He worried about what he\u2019d be missing in class. He wondered if he\u2019d get back to his family. And if he\u2019d be able to accomplish his dream of graduating from high school.<\/p>\n ::<\/p>\n Benjamin arrived in the U.S. from Chile through the Visa Waiver Program, which required him to depart on March 15, 2023, according to the Department of Homeland Security.<\/p>\n The teenager quickly built a life in Los Angeles. He played soccer like he had since he was 5 years old. He started dating. His favorite food became the spaghetti at Olive Garden. <\/p>\n And, like other newcomers to the country, he began learning English.<\/p>\n His English language development teacher, Lizette Becerra, affectionately called him a \u201cvelcro kid.\u201d He would come up to her desk and talk for so long that she\u2019d pull up a chair for him. He talked about soccer and his life in South America. <\/p>\n \u201cHe just had this really warm charisma,\u201d Becerra recalled. He was the only newcomer from Chile, she said, earning him the nickname \u201cel Chileno\u201d among his classmates.<\/p>\n Like everyone else, Benjamin said he watched the raids unfolding across the L.A. area starting in June. He tried to avoid the news as much as he could, because he said it was so distressing.<\/p>\n \u201cI never thought it would happen to me,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n The morning of Aug. 8, he\u2019d awakened late. He needed to walk Athena, a mini Pomsky, and they left their home shortly before 8 a.m. It was his brother\u2019s dog, but because the 6-year-old was so young, Benjamin said, he had taken it upon himself to care for the puppy.<\/p>\n It was a Friday and Benjamin was preparing for school, which was scheduled to start the following week. That weekend, he planned to buy a backpack, notebook, pencils and other school supplies.<\/p>\n As he walked Athena, Benjamin said, he spotted unfamiliar, unmarked black SUVs on his residential street. Within minutes, several agents \u2014 in plainclothes and some wearing vests that read \u201cPolice\u201d \u2014 surrounded him. He said the agents gave him the name of someone else they were looking for. <\/p>\n But it wasn\u2019t him. He told them they had the wrong person, but he said it didn\u2019t make a difference. The agents took Athena\u2019s leash and cuffed Benjamin\u2019s hands behind his back. He said they told him to call a family member to get the dog.<\/p>\n He watched from inside an SUV as a neighbor, who asked to be identified only as Valerie T., confronted the agents. In an interview with The Times, Valerie said she\u2019d been out walking her dog Leroy when she spotted the scene unfolding. She said she saw Athena wrapping her leash around an agent\u2019s leg and barking frantically.<\/p>\n After turning away briefly to give her dog\u2019s leash to her boyfriend, she said, she turned back and saw that Athena\u2019s collar had been unclipped and the black and white puppy was now in the middle of the street. Benjamin said he saw an agent unclip the collar, although officials deny that claim.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy did you do that? Whose dog is that?\u201d Valerie demanded of an agent. She and another neighbor tried to catch Athena, but the dog, frantic, kept running out of reach, almost getting hit by a car, she said.<\/p>\n When Valerie demanded to know where the person they detained lived, she said, an agent vaguely motioned at a nearby apartment building. Valerie wrote a note with her contact information and taped it on the apartment building front door.<\/p>\n \u201cI witnessed an ICE kidnapping on our block,\u201d she wrote, offering to help.<\/p>\n ::<\/p>\n Soon after, Benjamin was shackled and transported to the chilly downtown Los Angeles ICE facility known as B-18. Once he was there, he said, officials took his sandals, leaving him barefoot.<\/p>\n People line up on a driveway in August to enter the downtown Los Angeles ICE facility known as B-18.<\/p>\n (Carlin Stiehl \/ Los Angeles Times)<\/p>\n That afternoon, he said, he was transported to Santa Ana, where 25 detainees shared a room. He said they slept on the floor with nothing to cover themselves to keep warm. <\/p>\n He heard stories from other detainees. A man grabbed as he left work, his face still cut up after agents shattered his car window and dragged him out. Another taken as he bought construction materials for work. A man arrested on a Friday, his baby born the following Monday. Benjamin shared his story, telling them he was supposed to start school soon.<\/p>\n \u201cAqui vamos a aprender,\u201d they said, joking that he was going to get a different kind of education.<\/p>\n Back home, his mother called Valerie, who works as a teacher. Athena had made it home, but Benjamin\u2019s mom had no idea where her son was being held. Valerie enlisted a friend and fellow teacher, who asked to be identified only by her first name, Rita, to help. <\/p>\n The two women have known each other for more than 15 years, previously worked at a school together and have always connected on social justice work. They reached out to their community of moms and teachers, started a meal train and bought the family essentials, such as diapers and wipes for Benjamin\u2019s months-old twin brothers. They launched a GoFundMe<\/a> and figured out how to put money onto Benjamin\u2019s detainee account so he could call home.<\/p>\n \u201cWe had to really fully immerse ourselves into figuring out this whole system and trying to become as expert as possible,\u201d Rita told The Times. Another mother in the community, Alida Garcia, helped connect them with the Immigrant Defenders Law Center.<\/p>\n Benjamin spoke with his mom on the Monday after he was seized. Unable to mark the passing hours, he asked her what time it was and how the family was doing. Four days later, he was transferred to the Adelanto ICE Processing Center, where, he said, he finally received shoes after seven days barefoot.<\/p>\n As the GoFundMe gained traction, someone flagged it to Becerra, Benjamin\u2019s former teacher, asking: \u201cIs this Benji?\u201d<\/p>\n Becerra reached out to Rita and soon joined the teachers in their efforts. On Aug. 17, Becerra was Benjamin\u2019s first visitor at Adelanto. She wondered if her former student, whom she hadn\u2019t seen in years, would recognize her.<\/p>\n \u201cTanto tiempo sin mirarnos,\u201d he told her when he saw her. \u201cSo much time without seeing each other.\u201d<\/p>\n Benjamin stayed strong throughout their visit, she said. But as Becerra turned back as she walked away, she said, she saw him wiping tears from his eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cI just came out of there livid,\u201d Becerra said. \u201cI came out with the fire and drive to do something about what was happening.\u201d<\/p>\n Lizette Becerra, left, and Valerie T. sprang into action after Benjamin Guerrero Cruz was detained and taken into ICE custody.<\/p>\n (Genaro Molina \/ Los Angeles Times)<\/p>\n Becerra worked with Uni\u00f3n del Barrio, an independent political organization advocating for immigrant rights and social justice, to hold a news conference the following Tuesday.<\/p>\n Former classmates of Benjamin were present, alongside teachers from the Los Angeles Unified School District. The crowd chanted: \u201cBring Benji home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe wants to graduate,\u201d Becerra told attendees. \u201cHe is in detention, he should be in a classroom with us.\u201d<\/p>\n ::<\/p>\n At the end of August, Benjamin said, he was put on a plane and transferred to Arizona. He was scheduled to be transferred to Louisiana, a major hub for deportation flights<\/a>, but at the last minute he was taken off the plane and sent back to Adelanto.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n