Milli Atkinson runs the San Francisco Bar Association’s Attorney of the Day program and the city’s Rapid Response Network, providing last-minute counsel and mobilizing volunteers for people detained by ICE. Courtroom arrests have surged — at least 88 asylum seekers were arrested at hearings — and interpreter failures, crowded dockets and harsh holding conditions have intensified the work. Since September, Atkinson’s team has won 44 releases through habeas corpus petitions, offering cautious hope amid persistent strain and burnout.
Inside the Chaos of San Francisco Immigration Court: One Lawyer’s Day on the Front Lines
Milli Atkinson, immigrant legal defense program director, at the Bar Association of San Francisco.Photograph: Ximena Natera/The Guardian
It has been a turbulent year in San Francisco’s immigration court. At least 88 asylum seekers were arrested by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) during their hearings, and more than half of immigration judges have been removed from their posts, creating a pervasive atmosphere of fear and uncertainty.
At the center of the response is immigration attorney Milli Atkinson, who runs the San Francisco Bar Association’s Attorney of the Day program and coordinates the city’s Rapid Response Network. Together with a network of volunteers, she provides last-minute legal advice to people from across Northern California and mobilizes counsel for anyone detained by ICE in the city.
From Dawn to Courtroom Pressure
Your alarm sounds at 5:00 a.m. You check Signal for overnight alerts to the Rapid Response Network hotline and prepare for an 8:00 a.m. start. If you aren’t at the courthouse by then, you risk missing the narrow window to advise undocumented people before their hearings — a delay that can lead to detention or deportation.
Volunteers travel from counties as far as Humboldt and Monterey. Atkinson’s team often represents clients in the minutes between being seated and the judge calling their case. During the first Trump administration, the network might have fielded one or two calls a month; now it dispatches two to three attorneys a week.
Interpreter Failures and High Stakes
The Bar Association staff speak more than 32 languages, but interpretation remains a critical choke point. Today the judge requests an interpreter for Kazakh but none can be located; others need Hindi or Mam, an indigenous Mayan language. The dial-in interpretation line crackles and fails. A mistranslation, a misfiled form or a misunderstood question can lead to accusations of lying and the loss of an asylum claim — or immediate arrest.
Atkinson whispers to clients in the courtroom: if a government attorney moves to dismiss and the judge grants it, ICE will likely arrest the respondent. Tell the judge you don’t want the case dismissed. These quiet urgencies play out while ICE officers wait outside.
Holding Conditions and Legal Hurdles
You guide journalists and a city supervisor through the sixth floor of the federal courthouse, where an ICE field office is used for temporary holding. Detainees report freezing rooms lit 24 hours a day, no beds, limited medical care, no private toilets, minimal hygiene supplies and inedible food. In response to an ACLU lawsuit, a district judge issued a preliminary injunction in November requiring improvements to holding conditions; ICE referred inquiries to the Department of Homeland Security, which did not respond before publication.
Attorney access to the glass-divided consultation room is restricted: without a detainee’s full legal name, ICE denies access. That policy has caused particular problems for trans asylum seekers whose chosen names don’t match official documents.
Coordination, Media, and Burnout
Between interviews, staff meetings and coordinating volunteers, the day feels relentless. Atkinson leads a weekly staff meeting to review schedules, share case updates and manage the Bar Association’s Immigrant Legal Defense Program. The team contends not only with vicarious trauma but with direct trauma — witnessing breastfeeding mothers and pregnant women handcuffed after appearing for hearings.
"There are days when you break down into tears," Atkinson says. "There are days when your staff breaks down into tears."
To avoid burnout, Atkinson enforces boundaries: she closes her laptop at 5 p.m., runs to clear her head, keeps cheap historical romance novels on hand to disengage, and preserves small rituals — tap dancing, mahjong with family — to sustain herself.
Legal Wins and a Fragile Hope
Despite the pressure, the team has developed legal strategies that have produced results. Since adopting a focused strategy in September of filing habeas corpus petitions in federal court to challenge unlawful detentions, Atkinson’s team has secured release for 44 people. Those wins, the steady presence of pro bono attorneys for Attorney of the Day, and community rallies offer cautious hope amid ongoing challenges.
Atkinson remains on call even for holidays — she plans to be available on Christmas Day — because ICE has been known to operate weekends and federal holidays. She grew up in a bilingual California community that valued mutual aid; that upbringing shapes her resolve to keep helping people even when the system seems to break down.
For now, the work continues: high-stakes minutes in crowded courtrooms, rushed lawyer-client consultations, tense coordination with volunteers, and the fragile hope that legal wins and public pressure can reverse unlawful policies.
