Chicago-area processing center used in Trump immigration crackdown prompts complaints of inhumane conditions
Advocates allege overcrowding, limited access to basics, and restricted communication at a Broadview facility serving as a primary processing site for arrestees as federal enforcement intensifies.

A boarded-up building in Broadview, a small suburb just west of Chicago, has become the focal point of a federal immigration crackdown, with hundreds of arrests reported in the past three weeks. Although the site has operated as a processing center for years, critics say it has become a de facto detention facility under heightened enforcement, and they point to complaints about conditions and access that they describe as inadequate for people being processed there.
Immigrant advocates and relatives describe a facility that can hold as many as about 200 people at a time, with some detainees remaining for as long as five days. They say the space lacks showers or a cafeteria, and that detainees receive little food, water or access to medication. Communication with attorneys and family members is described as limited, and one advocate called the site a “black hole.” Erendira Rendón of The Resurrection Project said the group has been inundated with requests for legal help from detained immigrants and has struggled to establish contact with people inside.
[IMAGE] Broadview processing center in the Chicago area is shown in a file photo from ABC News.
Officials with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement did not respond to repeated requests for comment in recent weeks, including on Thursday, and have denied tour requests. ICE lists detention-capacity numbers for its facilities, but Broadview’s processing site is not published as a detention center. Broadview, a town of about 8,000 residents, has long housed a federal immigration processing operation and has frequently drawn peaceful protests as well as tearful departures before deportations. The current push comes as President Donald Trump has framed immigration enforcement as a core policy objective of his administration.
Illinois sits among states with some of the strictest sanctuary laws, and it bans most local cooperation with federal immigration authorities on detention matters. Local legislation effectively ended cooperation agreements between federal authorities and county jails in 2021, and Illinois banned private detention in 2019 after attempts to build a new facility faltered. There are no federally operated detention centers in Illinois, a point critics say heightens the importance of the Broadview center’s role in the national crackdown but complicates local oversight.
Relatives and lawmakers say immigrants have reported being told to sleep on floors, including areas near bathrooms, and to wait long stretches without basic provisions. Brenda Perez said her husband was arrested on Chicago’s South Side on his way to work as a mechanic and was later identified as being at Broadview. She described his account in brief calls: he could not sleep because there were too many people, went more than 24 hours without food and was given only one bottle of water. He was eventually moved to a jail in Michigan. Perez cried as she recounted his pleas for food and water that went unanswered, and the frustration of not being able to communicate freely with him.
Advocates and several residents said the center’s conditions appear designed to make detainees uncomfortable and deter them from seeking assistance or pursuing legal rights. They cited reports from families and attorneys that prisoners are asked to sign deportation papers quickly rather than advocate for themselves. Giselle Maldonado, whose two uncles were detained at Broadview for two days before deportation, described the conditions as “ugly.” She said it was crowded, with inadequate food and water, constant bright lights, and little opportunity for rest. “They wouldn’t feed them right. They wouldn’t give them water when they asked for water. These bright lights were on 24/7, and they couldn’t sleep,” Maldonado said.
The facility has become a flashpoint for tensions in the town of Broadview, where local officials say the presence of the processing site has altered everyday life. The village’s police force—now deployed in greater numbers to help manage protests—has had to respond to demonstrations that have grown more tense in recent weeks. Broadview Mayor Katrina Thompson said the processing center has created fear among residents and business owners who rely on a steady flow of workers.
Federal authorities have defended their approach, saying their priority is the safety of officers and the public, and characterizing arrestees as rioters. DHS officials initially provided a heads-up that the Broadview site would be used as the primary processing location for the operation, but communications with the town have since been limited. Residents say they were not consistently informed about whether chemical agents would be used to disperse protests. In response to the protests, authorities erected a fence that extended onto a public roadway and boarded up the building’s windows, measures that prompted scrutiny from village officials who argued the fence was illegally installed from a safety perspective.
The Mexican consulate in Chicago has remained among the few entities communicating with authorities overseeing Broadview. Ambassador Reyna Torres Mendivil, the consul general, said in general terms that the current enforcement environment is unprecedented for Mexican nationals and that the consulate has helped some detainees obtain medicine; she did not discuss specifics. The consulate’s involvement underscores the international dimension of the enforcement surge in Illinois and the added sensitivity around treatment of foreign nationals in processing facilities.
The broader enforcement push has included efforts to expand detention space in cooperating county jails in neighboring states, including Kentucky, Wisconsin and Indiana, according to immigrant-rights advocates. They say the approach is designed to swell detention capacity and compel self-deportation by making confinement conditions intolerable. Nonetheless, state and local leaders have emphasized the importance of oversight and transparency as federal authorities tighten implementation of new enforcement strategies.
Observers cautioned against equating Broadview’s processing center with traditional detention facilities, noting the lack of a formal detention-center designation in state and federal records. Still, families and advocates argue that the line between processing and detention has blurred, especially as reports of long waits, limited access to essentials, and restricted communication accumulate.
The situation in Broadview highlights larger questions about how immigration enforcement intersects with state laws that limit cooperation, as well as the capacity and accountability of federal agencies when operating outside traditional detention settings. For residents, it is not only a policy debate but a daily reality that shapes how they live, work and respond to a crisis that has drawn national attention.