HUMAN TRAFFICKING WATCH · DISPATCH
Washington bar case shakes humanitarian visas
Allegations against a prominent attorney ripple through thousands of immigrant cases.
After Alexandra Lozano surrendered her license and closed Luz del Camino Legal, thousands of immigration cases with her signature were left in limbo as lawsuits, witness accounts, and a federal fraud probe questioned how humanitarian visas were pursued and filed.
On June 10, 2026, the immigration practice Luz del Camino Legal closed its doors in Washington state after its founder, Alexandra Lozano, permanently surrendered her law license rather than contest disciplinary charges, according to bar filings; in May, the Washington State Bar had formally accused her of fraud tied to a portfolio of humanitarian visa work, and emails show the fraud unit at U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services had opened an investigation. The closure did not end the matter; the bar has said Lozano’s signature appears on more than 53,000 pending immigration cases, a volume that, if even a fraction requires remediation, threatens unusual strain on families and on adjudicators across the United States. Lozano has denied wrongdoing through counsel, but the fallout from the firm’s shutdown, and the sudden need for former clients to understand what was submitted in their names, defined the days that followed. The case has landed at the intersection of ethics enforcement and federal benefit adjudication, where the consequences reach beyond one office and toward trust in protections Congress created for survivors of domestic violence and of trafficking who qualify to apply for relief (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
Lawsuits and an ethics investigation described a pattern: clients recruited for humanitarian visas, domestic abuse and human trafficking narratives drafted without their knowledge, and signatures affixed to filings the clients say they never reviewed, all under the brand of a high-volume practice. Former employees alleged an assembly-line system—intake calls routed abroad, templates reworked, documents packaged—where contractors in Colombia, Mexico, and Argentina prepped applications and, at times, dispensed legal advice they were not licensed to give. Rafael Alvarez, who worked with the firm between 2022 and 2024 in Colombia, said staff were pushed to invent details of harm, an allegation that sits at the core of the bar’s charge and the federal inquiry. The firm’s footprint extended far beyond Washington state through online marketing and referral streams, magnifying the reach of anything done correctly, and of anything done improperly, into households that believed they had found a path to status and protection (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
The stories that surfaced after the closure were concrete: Gabriel Martinez Garcia said his family paid for trusted help and that his mother was later placed in removal proceedings; Erika Sanchez and Nora Murillo Moreno said they discovered invented abuse claims embedded in their files, in one case on the eve of a green card interview. In community centers and church halls in Washington and Oregon, recent volunteer legal clinics drew hundreds of former clients seeking copies of their files and a sober assessment of next steps. Several have filed malpractice claims or moved to join existing suits, seeking reimbursement for fees, replacement counsel, and, where possible, a corrective path to the benefit they thought they were pursuing. Attorney Vicente Omar Barraza has been among those coordinating litigation on behalf of affected families, a sign that the response, like the original practice’s clientele, has spread across states and into courts that will need to separate error from fraud and salvage what can be salvaged (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
Inside accounts added operational detail: Alvarez’s description of pressure to manufacture abuse, and testimony from former chief operating officer Amy Rios that in 2024 the firm earned approximately $1.7 million teaching other law offices the strategies it used in humanitarian visa work. The model, Rios suggested, was not just a case pipeline but a business template, replicated in seminars and courses that promised results while disclaiming that outcomes could vary. The bar’s new case followed an earlier 2023 ethics complaint that was dismissed after reviewers credited disclaimers, a procedural history that sharpened questions about what, if anything, had changed by the time of this year’s allegations. By the time bar investigators moved to block Lozano from practicing, the firm’s client base had grown, and with it the number of people now facing uncertainty about documents filed under their names and the narratives those documents carried into federal systems that will not forget them easily (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
Counsel for Lozano has pushed back with equal clarity: Angelo Calfo said clients were expected to review submissions before signing and rejected claims that the office fabricated stories, arguing that the record would show the necessary client participation. Lozano, through counsel, denies wrongdoing, a position consistent with the 2023 dismissal and with the choice to surrender her license without admitting the bar’s allegations—an administrative end to practice that is not the same as a finding of fact. Bar spokesperson Sara Niegowski said the association worked to prevent further practice as quickly as rules allowed, a message to clients and to the profession about the urgency officials perceived. The defense now rests not just on policy abstractions but on file-by-file review, signatures and attestations, and whether any process described on paper matches what former clients and staff say happened in reality (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
The allegations arrived amid a volatile landscape for humanitarian relief: federal data cited in the reporting show domestic abuse visa applications rising from nearly 15,000 in fiscal 2020 to about 53,000 in fiscal 2025, and trafficking visa claims climbing from roughly 1,000 to more than 37,000 over the same span. The Trump administration began overhauling these programs in 2025, narrowing definitions of abuse and adjusting evidentiary weight, moves that slowed processing and raised the stakes of any defective filing. At the same time, at least 920 immigration service scams were reported in 2025, according to Federal Trade Commission data analyzed by journalists, a marker of demand colliding with opportunism. Against that backdrop, any practice that automated narratives or dulled client oversight would be more likely to pass incorrect statements into a system primed for skepticism and delay, with consequences that stack case by case until they look like policy (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
Advocates emphasized the human cost layered onto policy: Erika Gonzalez, with the Coalition to Abolish Slavery and Trafficking, warned that alleged fraud erodes trust in protections survivors of trafficking and domestic violence rely on when they risk disclosure; Cecelia Levin, with the Alliance for Immigrant Survivors, pointed to a chilling effect that could follow honest applicants into interviews and requests for evidence. They argued that the integrity of humanitarian programs is measured not only by fraud control but by whether bona fide victims can access relief without being second-guessed into silence. Those cautions mirror the practical advice clinics have offered—retrieve your file, read every page, and correct what is wrong before it calcifies into a denial that might have been avoided, particularly in states like Texas and Ohio where former clients now seek replacement counsel across long distances. Policy debates matter, they said, but the stakes here are families and status, not headlines (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
What happens next will be decentralized and slow: bar proceedings concluded with a license surrender, federal fraud investigators continue their review, and former clients in Washington state, Oregon, Texas, and beyond face the methodical work of reconstructing files, amending statements, and deciding whether to persist with, restart, or withdraw applications. Lawsuits will test malpractice theories and fee recovery, and immigration adjudicators will have to decide, one record at a time, whether the facts asserted can be trusted enough to grant relief. For anyone who believes their case was mishandled, local legal aid and pro bono clinics remain essential starting points for independent review. If you or someone you know needs help or suspects human trafficking, call the U.S. National Human Trafficking Hotline at 1-888-373-7888 or text 233733 (BEFREE); help is available in more than 200 languages, 24/7 (SRN News, n.d.; WTOP, n.d.)
Locations: Washington state, Oregon, Texas, Ohio, Colombia, Mexico, Argentina, United States
Tags: investigation, federal, policy, survivor, state