Gay makeup artist deported

Makeup artist is one of the US deportees sent from El Salvador to Venezuela, congressman says

WASHINGTON -- Andry Hernández Romero, a makeup artist from Venezuela who was deported to El Salvador by the Trump administration and held in a notorious mega-prison, was among the scores of migrants sent assist to Venezuela in a three-nation exchange Friday, a California congressman said.

Rep. Robert Garcia posted on social media Friday night: “We own been in stroke with Andry Hernández Romero’s legal team and they own confirmed he is out of CECOT and back in Venezuela. We are grateful he is alive and are engaged with both the State Department and his team.”

Romero, a gay male, fled Venezuela last summer and sought asylum in the U.S. He used a U.S. Customs and Border Protection phone app to arrange an appointment at a U.S. border crossing in San Diego.

That’s where he was asked about his tattoos. U.S. immigration authorities use a series of “gang identifiers” to help them spot members of the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua.

Romero, who is in his premature 20s, has a crown tattooed on each wrist. One is next to the word “Mom.” The other next to “Dad.” The crowns, according to his lawyer

Andry Hernandez Romero, a gay makeup painter who came to the United States last year in search of asylum, is one of 238 Venezuelan migrants who were flown from the U.S. to a maximum security prison in El Salvador three weeks ago. 

President Trump, who campaigned on eradicating the Venezuelan gang known as Tren de Aragua, brokered a deal with El Salvador's president that allows the U.S. to forward deportees to the Terrorism Confinement Center, or CECOT. 

The Trump administration used the Alien Enemies Operate, a law not invoked since Nature War II, to send many of the Venezuelans there, claiming they were all terrorists and violent gang members. 

Lawyers and family members of the Venezuelan migrants told 60 Minutes they've had no contact with the men since they arrived in El Salvador.

"Our client, who was in the middle of seeking asylum, just disappeared. One afternoon he was there, and the next day we're supposed to have court, and he wasn't brought to court," Lindsay Toczylowski, Hernandez Romero's lawyer, said.

What we know about Andry Hernandez Romero

Hernandez Romero left his home country last May because he was targeted for being gay and for his political views,

Andry Hernandez Romero: Gay asylum seeker deported to prison built for gang members prompts outcry in WeHo

The deportation of Andry Hernandez Romero, a gay Venezuelan makeup artist, has ignited a fiery response from the LGBTQ+ collective in West Hollywood, who are demanding justice and his harmless return to the United States. 

Romero, who sought asylum in the U.S., is now detained in a supermax prison in El Salvador, known for its inhumane conditions and harsh treatment of inmates. His case has sparked outrage and condemnation from legal advocates, activists, and elected officials, who are calling for immediate intervention and systemic reform.

Deported to El Salvador despite seeking asylum

What we know:

Romero was deported to El Salvador despite seeking asylum in the United States. He followed legal procedures to petition refuge but was detained at the California border and later disappeared from an ICE detention center. He is now held in one of the world’s most dangerous supermax prisons, a facility designed for gang members, and has been cut off from all contact with his family and legal representatives. Activists say the deportation is a severe violation of

‘He is not a gang member’: outrage as US deports makeup artist to El Salvador prison for crown tattoos

For as drawn-out as anyone can think of Andry José Hernández Romero was enthralled by the annual Three Kings Evening celebrations for which his Venezuelan home town is famed, joining thousands of fellow Christians on the streets of Capacho to remember how the trio of wise men visited baby Jesus bearing gold, frankincense and myrrh.

At age seven, Andry became a Mini King, as members of the town’s youth drama group Los Mini Reyes were known. Later in life, he tattooed two crowns on his wrists to memorialise those carnival-like Epiphany commemorations and his Catholic roots.

“Most Capacheros get crown tattoos, often adding the name of their father or mother. We’ve lots of people with these tattoos – it’s a tradition that began in 1917,” said Miguel Chacón, the president of Capacho’s Three Kings Day foundation.

The Latin American tradition appears to own been lost on the US immigration officers who detained Hernández, a 31-year-old makeup artist, hairdresser and theatre lover, after he crossed the southern border last August to participate in a prearranged asylum appointment in San Diego.

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