In the past, Josué Alvardo, 19, would have been an unlikely detainee: He had entered the country legally on parole and with work authorization. He had a pending asylum claim and was taking English classes at Onondaga Community College, hoping to soon return to the studies he had left behind when he fled Ecuador.

Instead, Josué had been in detention for about two weeks when a judge denied a legal action filed by his mother seeking his release. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials detained the young Ecuadorian in mid-February as he walked into his job at an Onondaga County Popeyes, just minutes after his ride had driven away. 

Just days after his detention, his mother Juliana filed a habeas corpus petition. She submitted it without the help of an attorney, or pro se, as she was unable to pay for legal representation. But John Sinatra, a federal judge in the U.S. Western District of New York, denied it. 

Juliana has since filed again, this time with the help of a lawyer. But Sinatra has not yet decided on that case. 

Josué appears to have been unlucky — Sinatra is known for denying nearly every immigration habeas corpus case that comes before him. 

“I have done everything I can to get him out but they are not giving him bail. He has gotten no response about his habeas corpus petition,” said Juliana, shortly after filing a second petition. “They say this is a judge who takes his time.”

Josué’s case is one of many playing out in federal court in the U.S. Western District of New York where hundreds of detainees await judicial decisions on their habeas corpus cases.

Habeas corpus is a legal defense used by detainees to argue they are being held unlawfully by the government and deserve to have a bond hearing or immediately be released. In many cases, habeas corpus can decide whether immigrants have a future in the United States.

Hundreds of detained migrants have filed habeas corpus petitions since last September. The petition has increasingly become one of the only legal strategies for immigrants across the country seeking their release from ICE detention. 

In New York, more than 500 of those petitions have been filed in the 17-county Western District federal courts, which is home to one of the state’s largest detention centers. 

In the Western District of New York, the outcome can depend as much on the assigned judge as on the case itself. Four judges in the district typically hear habeas corpus cases with variable outcomes. 

Attorneys describe a system where federal judges apply markedly different standards to similar claims, producing inconsistent results for detained immigrants seeking release. 

“You could put the same case in front of two or three judges and have two or three very different outcomes,” said immigration attorney Andrew Russell. 

Petitioners assigned to Sinatra have won 1.4% of their cases. The other three judges on the bench found for the petitioner in more than 75% of cases. Since Jan. 1, 2025, Sinatra has been assigned 149 habeas cases. He has ruled on 71 of them. So far, only one has resulted in release.

Attempts by Central Current to reach Sinatra’s office were directed to the clerk of court, who said “the court does not comment on the deliberative process.”

In Josué’s case, his mother filed the petition as a “next friend,” a legal process whereby another person files on the behalf of someone who is unable to file themselves due to disability status, age, lack of access to counsel or other reasons. Juliana and Josué have seen other migrants in similar situations across the country released from ICE detention in recent months. 

Sinatra denied the petition, citing that Josué’s signature wasn’t on the documents and that the need for a “next friend” to file the petition was unsubstantiated. In his decision, written at the beginning of March, Sinatra gave the family until April 1 to file again. 

They did within two weeks. This time, Josué would be represented by a lawyer. 

Now, a month and a half after his second filing, Josué has still not seen Sinatra again. He has an asylum hearing scheduled for May 1. The family still has heard nothing from Sinatra, Juliana told Central Current on April 28. 

Right now, all the family can do is wait. Juliana believes Josue should not have been detained in the first place. The family, she said, waited in Mexico for their immigration appointment through the CBP One app. They entered the United States with immigration parole and work authorization. They have social security cards and attended every scheduled hearing. 

“We have done everything they have asked,” she said. “They have given us no reason why he has been detained.”

Among some immigration attorneys, having their clients’ cases assigned to Sinatra is synonymous with longer detention periods and no bond hearings. 

“[Sinatra] has been either denying or refusing to take any action on these habeas corpus petitions that have been filed,” said Buffalo-based immigration attorney Matthew Borowski.

Borowski has taken on almost 150 cases since last year and began representing Josué after his first case was denied. 

An analysis by Central Current of habeas corpus petitions shows that while U.S. District Judges Lawrence Vilardo, Elizabeth Wolford and Meredith Vacca rule that an immediate release or a bond hearing are justified in a majority of cases, Sinatra does so very rarely. 

The one Sinatra case that resulted in release had very unique circumstances. 

The released man, who Central Current will not name because he could not be reached for this story, was an Indian citizen who spent several years as a permanent resident before becoming a naturalized U.S. citizen. 

The day after his naturalization, he was arrested in the North Country and accused of sexual assault of a minor. He later pled guilty to the crime but in letters attached to his habeas corpus case, denied committing the “heinous crimes.” 

A U.S. district court later found him guilty of naturalization fraud, saying he obscured criminal history while applying for naturalization. His citizenship was revoked. But the man no longer had Indian citizenship either. India does not allow dual citizenship, so he had lost that status when he’d been naturalized. 

Sinatra ultimately ruled to release the man, saying that there was “no significant likelihood of removal in the reasonably foreseeable future.” 

‘We don’t know what else to do for him to be free’

Though Sinatra was appointed by President Donald Trump, Borowski and other lawyers believe his varied decisions are simply due to his interpretation of the case law. 

In deciding who is granted a bond hearing or release, there are two key factors that judges consider: if the person is a flight risk or a danger to the community. Some judges require the detainees to prove that they are neither, a task that Borowski believes is an “unconstitutional burden” to place on someone in detention. 

“Some people tell me to wait, to be patient. Josué is a young man with no record,” Juliana said. “He is harmless.”

As the family waits for Sinatra’s ruling, they are hoping Josué’s strong community connections will strengthen his chances for release.

His petition for habeas corpus is full of letters of support. There are letters from his manager at Popeyes, from his pastor, from friends in the community and from his younger brother. Each speaks to the fact that he is a good child, and a responsible member of his community. 

A friend of the Alvarados described Josué as a “very, very sweet” young man who loved to read and to help his mother. 

“He has a good head on his shoulders,” said Lilibeth Correa, the friend. “I tell his mom, ‘Girl, let me tell you something. You are doing a great job with that kid.’”

Josué’s detention marked the first time he and his younger brother, Israel, had been separated in their lives. In the weeks after his detention, Israel was terrified to go to school, fearing that he, too, might be detained. He cries for Josué at night, their mother said. 

“We came to this country for [Josué] to go to school,” Juliana said. “We don’t know what else to do for him to be free and continue his process on the outside.”

But Sinatra may determine those connections are not enough to prove that he is harmless and unlikely to flee. 

Other federal judges like Wolford and Vilardo differ from Sinatra in their interpretation of the law. Wolford and Vilardo require the government to prove detainees are a flight risk or a danger to their community, according to Borowski, which makes it more likely that a bond hearing will be granted.

Immigration attorneys say the variability in decisions not only stems from the broad discretion judges have in habeas cases, but also the growing volume of immigration detention challenges in Western New York. 

As ICE rapidly transfers detainees across jurisdictions, lawyers must argue before judges in different courts, each applying the law in their own way. Many habeas cases are now filing with temporary restraining orders preventing ICE from transferring habeas seekers out of the district in retribution. 

Because many federal judges only began handling these cases at this volume in the summer of 2025, when habeas filings surged, they often have limited experience to draw on when making their decisions. 

This often leads to judges ruling similarly to each other, said Lauren DesRosiers, director of the immigration law clinic at Albany Law School. 

Disparities in the legal interpretations play out against a backdrop of mounting caseloads and pressure within the immigration system, which lawyers say prioritizes speed over individual review. On average, federal judges in the Western District take about a month to rule on these cases. 

“When they don’t have the time to really consider the cases in front of them, they have a lot of pressure to just get through cases,” DeRosiers said. 

Deportation could place Josue in grave danger.

Before coming to the U.S., the Alvarados lived in Ecuador. Josué was enrolled in university in the city of Milagro, studying law. He wanted to be a lawyer. Juliana had a hair salon. 


Then, members of a gang asked Juliana to pay for “la vacuna,” she said. Though this literally translates to “the vaccine,” in Ecuador some gangs use this term to request protection money, extorting small business owners. The gang members told her that if she didn’t pay, they would kill her and her Josué, she said. They knew where he was studying. 

“That is why we decided to migrate,” Juliana said. “We were under their threat.” 

After the family decided to flee, they spent six months traveling from Ecuador to El Paso, crossing through the infamous Darién Gap. They waited in Mexico for a CBP One appointment. When they arrived in El Paso, Texas they knew no one. 

Once in the U.S., they filed for asylum. Josué still has a pending claim. His next court hearing for his asylum case is on May 1. 

“We are now in limbo,” said Juliana Alvarado. “They tell us we are here illegally. We don’t know now if we are legal or not.”

Read more of Central Current’s coverage

Laura Robertson is a staff reporter covering Onondaga County. Prior to joining Central Current, she lived on the edge of the Bering Strait in Nome, Alaska, where she worked as a reporter for a year. She...

Mikayla Melo is a reporting intern at Central Current and a graduating senior at Syracuse University, studying psychology and magazine, news, and digital journalism. She has interned with CBS News in Los...