TL;DR
- Andry Hernández Romero, a Venezuelan gay makeup artist, is rebuilding his life in Spain after being released from a notorious prison.
- He advocates for voiceless immigrants while dealing with trauma from his past experiences.
- Hernández Romero’s asylum application is pending, and he aims to raise awareness about the struggles of fellow detainees.
- His story highlights the flawed immigration system and the dangers faced by LGBTQ+ individuals.
- He emphasizes that tattoos do not equate to criminality, challenging stereotypes against immigrants.
Andry Hernández Romero is not just a name; he’s a symbol of resilience and a beacon of hope for countless voiceless immigrants. The Venezuelan makeup artist, who became the face of a controversial deportation case, is now rebuilding his life in Spain after enduring the horrors of El Salvador’s notorious CECOT prison. But don’t let the smile fool you; the trauma still lingers, and Andry is determined to speak up for those who remain unheard.
After being wrongfully accused of gang affiliation by the Trump administration, Andry spent 125 days in a hellhole that most people can only imagine. “If I’m walking down the street and I see a police officer carrying handcuffs or a baton, it affects me,” he admits, highlighting the lasting impact of his experience. Now, he finds himself in a safer environment, yet the shadows of his past are hard to shake off.

His asylum application in Spain is still pending, and while he’s no longer behind bars, the road to recovery is fraught with challenges. “I’m in a safe place, but this bitter experience isn’t going to disappear overnight,” he says, reminding us that freedom isn’t just about physical release; it’s about healing.
Andry’s story is not just his own; it’s a rallying cry for the hundreds of other Venezuelan men who were swept into the same unjust system. He recalls receiving daily messages from former detainees and their families, all seeking help and visibility. “There are many innocent people in prisons today who do not have the opportunity to raise their voices,” he says, urging the world to remember those still trapped in the system.
His activism is fueled by the belief that every person’s human rights should be respected, regardless of their background. “I want the world to know that being Venezuelan is not a crime,” he passionately declares, challenging the stereotypes that have unjustly labeled many immigrants as criminals based solely on their appearance or past.
Andry’s tattoos, which were misinterpreted as gang symbols, now serve as a testament to his journey. “A tattoo is not solid proof that someone is a criminal,” he states, emphasizing the need for a more humane approach to immigration. He’s not just fighting for his own narrative; he’s advocating for the rights of LGBTQ+ immigrants who face discrimination and violence in detention centers.
As he awaits the resolution of his asylum case, Andry dreams of returning to his passion as a makeup artist and fashion designer in Los Angeles. “The final destination for Andry is Los Angeles, California,” he shares, envisioning a future where he can truly thrive.
In a world where many are quick to judge, Andry Hernández Romero stands as a reminder that behind every statistic and headline is a human being with dreams, struggles, and an unyielding spirit. His journey from prisoner to advocate is just beginning, and he’s determined to ensure that no one else has to endure what he has faced. “By nationality, I’m Venezuelan, but in my heart, I’m American,” he reflects, capturing the complex identity of a man who has seen the worst but continues to fight for the best.