Truth-telling without fearmongering: Reporting on immigrant health at a moment of crisis

President Trump’s sweeping orders on immigration and deportation orders are having deep effects on the mental health and well-being of immigrant communities across the nation. 

With anti-immigrant sentiment surging, advocates, doctors and journalists are starting to relay stories of the health impacts of these unfolding changes. 

“Most of our patients have anxiety,” said Dr. Eva Perusquía, an internal medicine physician from Mexico working in a federally qualified health center caring for farmworkers in Salinas, California under the Licensed Physicians from Mexico Pilot Program. “Really, it’s a consequence of the fear, frustration, exploitation, social isolation, loneliness and discrimination that they’re living.” 

Perusquía was joined by Andrea Castillo, a reporter based in Washington, D.C. covering immigration for the Los Angeles Times, and Luz Gallegos, the executive director of the TODEC Legal Center, which assists Latino immigrants in California’s Coachella Valley.

Michelle Levander, director of the USC Center for Health Journalism, moderated the panel discussion, during the center’s 2025 California Health Equity Fellowship last week. 

“Whether or not Trump succeeds with mass deportations, he has succeeded in terrifying the population, and that has huge consequences for people’s health and participation in a civic society,” Levander said. 

Perusquía said many immigrants have a history of emotional stress from exposure to violence and other adversities in their country of origin. On arrival in the U.S., they often work in risky jobs, consume unhealthy diets and live in crowded conditions, all of which contribute to poor physical and mental health. 

“They don’t have access to anything, (not) to health care,” said Perusquía. Currently, California and Oregon are the only two states that allow Medicaid access to undocumented immigrants. 

Castillo pointed to the raft of new policies targeting immigrants from the administration, with announcements seemingly every day. For example, last week Trump invoked the Alien Enemies Act to deport alleged Venezuelan gang members, without the customary due process. The act allows the president to detain and deport citizens of an enemy nation, during a declared war. The deportations of the Venezuelans proceeded despite a block by a federal judge.

“At some point, (the administration) is going to start to target a very, very broad number of people,” said Castillo.

More than 130 lawsuits, including at least two dozen related to immigration, have been filed against the Trump administration as of March 15, according to The New York Times. 

Gallegos said that the administration’s actions are terrorizing her community in the Coachella Valley, where she works. She told a story about a local family with two children and an undocumented father who had not left their house since the election. Unable to support his family without access to work, the father killed himself earlier this month.

TODEC advocates on behalf of migrant communities, primarily farmworkers and their families, about 100 miles from the Mexico-U.S. border. 

“We are seeing the impact of this crisis not only on the parents, (but) also their kids,” Gallegos said.

Her organization is taking part in the national “Know Your Rights” campaign, which seeks to educate undocumented residents and surrounding communities on their constitutional rights if they’re approached by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents or law enforcement. The organization includes children as young as 6 in the campaign’s education. She said being informed helps kids address their fears and protect themselves and their family.

Trump’s immigration policies could have a direct economic impact, Gallegos said. 

If farm laborers aren’t working, children aren’t going to school and families aren’t supporting small businesses, everyone’s bottom line is hurt. 

“The backbone of our state’s economy is agriculture. If the workers aren’t good, the economy’s not good,” said Gallegos. 

Undocumented immigrants in California contribute about $8.5 billion to the state’s economy, and nearly one-third of the state’s workforce is comprised of immigrants.

“At our organization, we learned that we have to stay loud with our advocacy (and) telling the stories of our community to create awareness,” she said.

She said that’s why it’s important for advocates to engage with journalists. But the challenge is getting these stories out without fearmongering or traumatizing vulnerable people. 

“Our bottom line as journalists is to do no harm,” said Castillo, the reporter for the Times.

Early in the first Trump administration, she would often have to educate her editors about why using the full names of some immigrant sources could pose dangers for them. Now, most major outlets routinely use initials, middle names or other aliases to protect vulnerable sources. 

“How I approach it is to really overexplain what my story is and what the possible consequences of talking to me could be,” Castillo said, referring to her interaction with sources.

The choice to participate in a story belongs to the individual, but it’s imperative that it’s an informed choice, she said. If she has any doubts about using someone’s identity, she discusses it with her editor or a trusted journalist friend.

Perusquía said talking about immigrant health problems isn’t new, but social media is, and it can quickly broadcast misinformation. 

“Social media is spreading fake and real news, and this can cause more anxiety,” said Perusquía, “In your work, it’s important to say the truth without causing more harm.”

For journalists covering immigration, Castillo urged reporters to go beyond just repeating stories or claims that incite fear or misinformation. Her antidote to fearmongering is truth telling. 

“Write out what the official said, and then write out what is actually true,” said Castillo.