Scroll To Top
News

Andry Hernández Romero explains how he survived CECOT after the U.S. government disappeared him

Tim Miller Andry Hernandez Romero on The Bullwark
footage stills via The Bullwark

Tim Miller speaks with Andry Hernández Romero on The Bullwark

Andry Hernández Romero spoke with The Bulwark's Tim Miller about the torment the U.S. government put him though.

Cwnewser
We need your help
Your support makes The Advocate's original LGBTQ+ reporting possible. Become a member today to help us continue this work.

A gay Venezuelan man who had sought asylum in the U.S. before being deported to one of the most feared prisons in Latin America under the Trump administration recounted in detail how he endured beatings, sexual assault, and months of uncertainty inside El Salvador’s CECOT supermax and why he still says he loves the United States.

Keep up with the latest in LGBTQ+ news and politics. Sign up for The Advocate's email newsletter.

In one of his first extensive U.S. press interviews since being released from custody in July, conducted via video conference on Wednesday and published Thursday, Andry Hernández Romero described finding ways to survive by adapting to his fellow inmates, keeping a low profile about his sexuality, and clinging to his faith, even as advocates warn he remains unsafe in Venezuela. He spoke with The Bulwark’s Tim Miller in Spanish, his words later translated into English. The 31-year-old makeup artist was back in his home country after a 125-day disappearance into El Salvador’s CECOT prison, the sprawling complex the local government calls a Terrorism Confinement Center, and human rights advocates have compared to a modern concentration camp.

Hernández Romero spoke without bitterness, even as he recounted being misidentified by U.S. immigration officials as a gang member, being deceived into believing he was being deported to Venezuela, and sexually assaulted while in custody.

Related: Gay asylum seeker Andry Hernández Romero remains in danger, advocates warn

Hernández Romero said he entered the United States legally on August 29, 2024, through the CBP One app, seeking asylum from anti-LGBTQ+ persecution in Venezuela. He was detained immediately. Within a week, officials accused him of belonging to the Venezuelan Tren de Aragua gang based solely on two tattoos: the words “mom” and “dad” with a crown.

“The crown represents for me that they are kings, my pillars,” Hernández Romero said, “and it’s also a tribute to a theater group I belonged to.” He said he formally requested a meeting to challenge the classification but was never granted one. “I tried by every means I could, and my family could, to prove my innocence … but the detention center never wanted to believe me.”

In March, Hernández Romero was deported under the Trump administration’s revived use of the Alien Enemies Act, a centuries-old wartime law historically used to detain or deport immigrants en masse. He had no ties to El Salvador and was sent there without a hearing.

He told Miller that ICE officers lied to detainees about their destination, staging delays in Honduras before landing in San Salvador late on a Saturday, when courts in the U.S. were closed. “It was the perfect day to take us out of the country,” Hernández Romero said. Once off the plane, he recalled, “They started hitting and kicking us … between two officers, they dragged us down the stairs.”

Inside CECOT, he feared he would never get out. “My fellow inmates said anyone who entered there would never leave,” he said. Hernández Romero explained that he made a conscious decision to survive by finding common ground with the people around him and keeping a low profile about his sexuality. “Instead of them adapting to me, which is harder because of my sexual orientation, I preferred to adapt to how they were, how they think, how they see life,” he said. “That made companionship and coexistence healthier.”

Related: Hundreds rallying at Supreme Court demand Trump return disappeared gay asylum-seeker Andry Hernández Romero

Hernández Romero said the group entered the prison as “252 strangers” but emerged as “252 brothers,” a connection forged in prayer, mutual protection, and the daily effort to survive. He told Miller he plans to do makeup for the brides of several men with whom he was imprisoned, including one from his home state who is marrying in two weeks. “The happiness we all have right now is immense,” he said.

Asked about media reports of sexual assault, Hernández Romero confirmed the abuse was “totally true” but declined further details on advice from his lawyers. To those who doubt his account, he urged empathy and reflected on the cruelty of public judgment. “We cannot make firewood from a fallen tree,” he said. “It’s easy to speak badly of someone, but they don’t like it when people speak badly of them. As a family member told me, everyone throws stones at the tree that bears fruit.”

He said part of the pain of his detention was enduring false narratives about who he was. “A nadie le gusta que hablen mal de uno,” he told Miller: “Nobody likes having their name dragged through the mud.”

His July 18 release, part of a prisoner swap delayed for weeks by chaos inside the Trump administration, was not the legal victory his supporters had fought for. Lindsay Toczylowski, cofounder and CEO of the Immigrant Defenders Law Center, told The Advocate last month that while the release brought relief, “he remains unsafe” in Venezuela, the country he had fled.

Related: Jon Lovett and Tim Miller team up to ‘raise hell’ over gay asylum-seeker vanished to El Salvador by Trump

Rep. Robert Garcia, a gay California Democrat and the House Oversight Committee’s ranking member, has vowed to continue pressing for Hernández Romero’s safety and a return to the U.S. “We’ll do everything we can to protect him, make sure he has his due process rights, but most importantly … that he’s actually safe,” Garcia said in July. Rep. Ritchie Torres, a gay New York Democrat, called the deportation “a deeply cruel and dangerous decision” and said Hernández Romero is “owed an apology from the White House.”

From Venezuela, Hernández Romero told Miller he holds no resentment toward the U.S. “It’s a country that offers many opportunities,” he said. “The time of God is perfect … this is a life purpose He gave us to see His greatness and view things differently.”

“I hope this isn’t the last interview,” Hernández Romero added. “There’s a Venezuelan here who loves the United States.”

Watch Tim Miller’s interview with Andry Hernandez Romero for The Bulwark below.

EXCLUSIVE: Andry Hernández Romero Tells His Story www.youtube.com

Cwnewser
The Advocate TV show now on Scripps News network

From our Sponsors

Most Popular

Latest Stories

Christopher Wiggins

Christopher Wiggins is The Advocate’s senior national reporter in Washington, D.C., covering the intersection of public policy and politics with LGBTQ+ lives, including The White House, U.S. Congress, Supreme Court, and federal agencies. He has written multiple cover story profiles for The Advocate’s print magazine, profiling figures like Delaware Congresswoman Sarah McBride, longtime LGBTQ+ ally Vice President Kamala Harris, and ABC Good Morning America Weekend anchor Gio Benitez. Wiggins is committed to amplifying untold stories, especially as the second Trump administration’s policies impact LGBTQ+ (and particularly transgender) rights, and can be reached at christopher.wiggins@equalpride.com or on BlueSky at cwnewser.bsky.social; whistleblowers can securely contact him on Signal at cwdc.98.
Christopher Wiggins is The Advocate’s senior national reporter in Washington, D.C., covering the intersection of public policy and politics with LGBTQ+ lives, including The White House, U.S. Congress, Supreme Court, and federal agencies. He has written multiple cover story profiles for The Advocate’s print magazine, profiling figures like Delaware Congresswoman Sarah McBride, longtime LGBTQ+ ally Vice President Kamala Harris, and ABC Good Morning America Weekend anchor Gio Benitez. Wiggins is committed to amplifying untold stories, especially as the second Trump administration’s policies impact LGBTQ+ (and particularly transgender) rights, and can be reached at christopher.wiggins@equalpride.com or on BlueSky at cwnewser.bsky.social; whistleblowers can securely contact him on Signal at cwdc.98.