Immigration status, along with language and cultural barriers, increases the vulnerability of domestic violence survivors and makes it harder for them to seek and find help. These problems are exacerbated in an environment of government hostility toward immigrants. The erosion of legal pathways toward safety for immigrants who experience violence, exclusion from social safety net programs, and fear of engaging with authorities put survivors at extreme risk for abuse.
When survivors are cut off from systems — either by their abuser or by the systems themselves — they find themselves experiencing domestic violence as a private matter and are less able to access resources for healing and prevention. At the relationship level, differences in immigration status, English language ability and understanding of U.S. systems can create a power gap that a person causing harm exploits. A partner with legal status, for example, may threaten to report an undocumented spouse to immigration authorities. If the person causing harm speaks better English than their partner, they’re likely to have a communication advantage if police are called.
People without legal immigration status are also vulnerable to abuse from people outside of their intimate relationships. Landlords or employers, for example, may use knowledge of the person’s status to threaten them or deny them rights. Vanessa Flores, a community reporter at El Tímpano in Oakland, said her organization hears from immigrants facing harassment or eviction threats from landlords related to their immigration status. These situations add to survivors’ sense of precarity and lack of options.
Fear of calling the police is extremely common among immigrant survivors, especially in an era of stepped-up immigration enforcement and — in some communities — cooperation between local police and federal immigration agents. In a 2025 survey of survivor advocates and attorneys, 75% reported that immigrant survivors had concerns about contacting the police. This fear extends to accessing services, including shelters, medical care, and mental health support. Language barriers can also make it hard for survivors to access these services. And because federal funding for safety-net programs such as housing vouchers and food aid excludes undocumented immigrants, survivors may find they’re ineligible for assistance.
The U.S. does offer pathways for undocumented survivors of domestic violence to obtain legal status. The U visa program, created by the federal Victims of Trafficking and Violence Protection Act of 2000, is available to survivors who report abuse and assist law enforcement in investigating the crime. But a massive backlog in cases has made U visas hard to obtain. Another pathway called the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) self-petition allows immigrants to petition for a green card if they come to the U.S. with a citizen or legal resident spouse who then subjects them to violence. But as of 2025, advocates report this avenue is under pressure from stepped up administrative requirements and processing delays.
Journalists reporting on immigrant communities should be mindful not to treat them simply as sources for extracting information, Flores said. Instead, she said reporters can build trust by being sources of reliable information themselves.