An End to Migrant Aid on the Border? A Visit to Casa Alitas
Diego Piña Lopez at the entrance of the Casa Alitas Welcome Center
In October, 2023 I traveled along the US-Mexico border from San Diego, California to Brownsville, Texas. Along the way, I worked with humanitarian volunteers along the border in California, Arizona, and New Mexico. I also talked with some of the migrant service providers.
Casa Alitas in South Tucson, a program of the Catholic Community Services of Southern Arizona, is one of these organizations.
The facility was shut down at midnight on January 26, 2025, according to The Arizona Daily Star. This move came after news that Pima County, which distributes reimbursements to shelters, would receive no more money to service asylum seekers from the federal government. This news was closely related to the fact that no migrants had been released to county shelters since January 20, the day of Donald Trump’s inauguration.
The following diary excerpt recalls my experience talking with Diego Piña Lopez, the program manager of Casa Alitas, a program of the Catholic Community Services of Southern Arizona.
October 15, 2023: Casa Alitas, South Tucson
Carol Wingo, from the humanitarian group Samaritans without Borders, put me in touch with Diego Piña Lopez who, she said, will help me understand migration processes at the southern border. Wingo lives in Ajo, Arizona with her husband Tom. They also volunteer for Humane Borders. From October 10 through October 12, I worked with Tom distributing water to migrants who had just crossed through freshly-cut holes in the border fence south of Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. In those three days, I had seen around 1,000 asylum-seeking migrants—from Ecuador, India, Senegal and elsewhere—crossing the border. I also saw Border Patrol arrest some of these migrants—before transporting them inland for further processing and releasing them into the US with a notice to appear at a future court date.
At least some of these migrants would pass through Casa Alitas, in South Tucson.
Lopez, a tall guy with wavy black hair and a well-kept beard greets me promptly at 10 a.m. in the parking lot of the Casa Alitas Welcome Center, housed in an unused wing of the Pima County Juvenile Detention Center, in South Tucson.
Lopez is program manager here.
A mural on the outside wall of the facility shows off the iconic landmarks of the Americas: the Golden Gate Bridge, the Statue of Liberty, and the Toltec Pyramids. We walk together past this mural into the large, airy ramada that asylum-seekers encounter during the intake process, where Casa Alitas volunteers tested migrants for COVID during the pandemic.
The humanitarian nonprofit organization uses federal funds distributed to them through state agencies to care for legally processed asylum seekers. It’s also an organization that has the capacity to shelter for a few days after being released from Border Patrol or ICE custody. Spending some time in a facility like this is their next logical step on the way to finding shelter with friends or family already in the United States, if they have any. It’s also the next logical step in my journey along the border.
Lopez is showing me around the ramada, but it’s empty save for a couple of volunteers sitting near the entrance.
“We worked with the county on building this ramada out; we converted it so if it rains, that's how we guide people in,” Lopez tells me before diving into his history with Casa Alitas.
When he started in 2015, he and his cohorts would greet migrants at the Tucson bus station, he tells me. As the organization grew and adapted to the shifting needs of migrant populations, they operated a Catholic Community Services safe drop and then moved into a five-bedroom house. They acquired their current facility from Pima County in 2019. During part of that year, Lopez was the only paid staffer.
We exit the ramada and walk into the main hall, decorated with the flags of countries from which the facility has received migrants. Two tall dudes—Lopez says they’re from Senegal—are sitting on a table filling out paperwork. But the hall is otherwise empty except for two of the 900 volunteers Diego directs along with 40 to 50 paid staffers (whose numbers fluctuate based on need).
I meet one of the volunteers, a white-haired woman in a tracksuit sorting through bins of clothes. “Hello,” she greets me with a smile. “I'm Cathy. I'm the lead, whatever that means.” She clarifies: “OK, that means I’m here more than other people.” She sketches out her distribution system: “As we get to colder weather, we have a supply of hoodies and jackets and stuff and out when it's time for them to leave.”
Casa Alitas interior
Lopez tells me about the change that he saw from Trump, which kept migrants in Mexico under the Remain in Mexico, which forced migrants to remain outside US borders while applying for asylum, and Title 42 —the COVID-19 health emergency that allowed Border Patrol to deport migrants before they could apply for asylum—and Biden who dropped both.
“We saw the numbers dipped down significantly during the Trump administration early on, and then the policy of metering where you would see those people kind of waiting in line on the Mexico side,” he says. “It used to be maybe like 30 to 50 per day allowed to come through. But sometimes it would drop into the single digits. From there, we started seeing the numbers rise, the cartels taking advantage of it, crossing people through the desert, and then having them drop off those larger groups as you might have seen.”
All of these migrants had been shepherded through the border fence by cartel members who were exploiting the complexity of American law. That is, while it’s illegal to cross the border between ports of entry, it’s legal to ask for asylum/appeal removal once inside the US. While most claims will eventually be rejected, asylum seekers have the right to a court hearing to appeal. Court dates for these hearings, however, might take years to arrive. In the meantime, migrants, under current laws and current Biden administration policy, can wait out the interval in the US.
It occurs to me to show Lopez a souvenir of sorts, one likely related to cartel activity, that I found by the border fence. I get out my wallet and show him two halves of a travel agency card, wallet-sized, reading “Agencia de Viajes: Excel Tours” that I had taped together with clear tape.
The travel agency was based in Valle de Santiago, 150 miles northwest of Mexico City. The card gave out the director’s regular telephone, cell phone number, and website address.
“You look it up, it's just like any other travel website,” I tell Lopez, recalling my experiences over the past several days. “But the fact that this card was in a migrant’s possession makes me think the cartels are colluding with the travel agencies, like the travel agencies are booking trips for migrants. And at Organ Pipe Cactus, there was a highway on the Mexican side. You had whole groups of people there transported by bus and then the cartels would cut the bollards of the fence and let them through.”
Lopez pauses and considers. Then he tells me that the severe restrictions on the flow of migrants through ports of entry have created huge opportunities for the cartels to exploit migrants. He compares what the cartels offer to Walmart. “Now a Walmart is not just where you just buy random items; a Walmart's where you buy your groceries now. The cartel is where you buy your pathway to the US.”
He has also seen migration become a more global affair during his tenure at Casa Alitas.
“We used to just see Central Americans,” he says. “It was like 60 percent Guatemalans now Guatemalans are like 30 or 40 percent. “We're seeing the people from Senegal and a lot of that is to do with the displacement of people globally… So as we've globalized—on how to get me this T-shirt and so forth—we have globalized entry from other areas of the world.”
Lopez excuses himself to answer a call. When he gets back, he tells me he needs to hightail it across town to a hotel near the Tucson International Airport where Casa Alita is housing migrants. I’m welcome to pay a visit as well, he says, so I follow him there in my Nissan and park beside him in the parking lot.
We walk into the lobby of the hotel that is hosting asylum seekers, the hotel with which Casa Alitas has arrangements, a hotel he doesn’t want me to name in this article because of the sensitivity of the immigration issue.
(In February 2024, Fox News Reporter Rachel Campos-Duffy visited one of these locations and aired a report on Fox News about Casa Alitas, titled “Staffers at unmarked building refuse to answer questions about housing migrants.”)
I ask what I can write about these arrangements without violating his confidence.
"We have relationships with hotels on an as-need basis between rooms, which can make it challenging when there's surges of local events like football games or events,” he tells me.
The hotel conference rooms are crowded as we walk in; I see hundreds of people, people from all over the world, seated on folding chairs, waiting in various lines. I see lines for COVID testing, for WI-FI passwords. I see children playing in the hallways. Aside from feeding and temporarily housing migrants who pass through their doors, Casa Alitas personnel try to connect migrants with relatives, with transportation, and with medical services. I take a quick look around and try to spot Luisa and her kids. No luck.
As soon as we walk in, a young woman, a Casa Alitas volunteer, walks up and asks Lopez a question. He answers it. He takes me into the kitchen area to take my questions and, just as we sit on rolling carts across from each other, a young woman spots Diego and asks him a question in Spanish. He replies in Spanish, directing her to one of the volunteers, pointing her out, across the hall. She nods and walks off in that direction
“The woman I was just talking to was talking about the food.” As some of the migrants are vegetarian, he says, Casa Alitas has started to offer vegetarian meals. “The challenge,” he says, “is making sure that we are supporting a way to recognize every culture, every kid coming through. No one flees their home country, just because, right?”
I ask Lopez how he got involved in this line of work, and he reflects on his childhood.
“I was born in Nogales, Arizona,” he says. “But even though it’s a border town, I wasn’t aware of the migration issue. And I remember seeing somebody's belongings in the desert near the school and that kind of coming to terms, like, what is this kind of thing? Is this a homeless person? Technically it is a homeless person, but it's also a migrant coming through.”
In addition to his work with Casa Alitas, and his consultant work with Catholic Charities USA, Lopez is a third-year Ph.D student at the College of Public Health at the University of Arizona, and he hopes to use his research to improve health outcomes for recent migrants.
“Everyone's in God's image and everyone's on the same playing field,” he says, echoing Catholic doctrine, which is apropos, considering that Casa Alitas does its work under the auspices of Catholic Community Services of Southern Arizona. “I feel like the communities that have the least resources, that are the least tapped into, are those that have been fleeing persecution,” he continues. “If we can make things work in our country for these people, we can make it work for anybody.”
On that note we part ways, and he wishes me luck on my journey, and I wish him luck on his.
Postscript:
Diego Piña Lopez stepped down from his position with Casa Alitas in May 2024, after it was discovered during an audit that the laundry company that serviced Casa Alitas was owned by Lopez’ mother and that Catholic Community Services was overcharged for these services.
Per the Casa Alitas website regarding its closure: “While this marks the end of one chapter, our mission to serve the most vulnerable in Pima County remains unwavering. Through our wide range of programs—including housing support, behavioral health services, care for families and seniors, and assistance for those experiencing homelessness—we will continue to meet the pressing needs of our community.”
