This September, the US Supreme Court ruled against an order meant to prevent Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) from racially profiling and targeting people whom they suspect are of Latine descent. The Supreme Court’s decision means that people will become suspects for normal aspects of their everyday lives. Where someone works, the languages they speak, and the communities they live in can be justifiable causes for detention and questioning. The Supreme Court could later review the order on the merits, as the case is still pending at the Ninth Circuit.
As constitutional rights are debated among judges, Latines are being routinely dehumanized by government officials, ICE agents, and the media. This treatment shouldn’t be the norm. Latines make up over 19% of the U.S. population, and yet our diverse cultures and qualities are largely undermined, satirized, and exploited. The overruling of protections from discrimination hugely overlooks the simple fact that there is no real way to “look like an illegal immigrant”. If masked ICE agents are legally permitted to choose “Latino-looking” suspects as targets, who decides what “Latino” looks like?
“we should not have to live in a country where the Government can seize anyone who looks Latino, speaks Spanish, and appears to work a low wage job.”
Justice Sonia Sotomayor
With a fair complexion in the winter and a minimal understanding of the Spanish language, many people are surprised to hear me talk about my Abuelita. Although I have been compared to the likeness of well-known mixed Latine celebrities like Jenna Ortega and Selena Gomez, general suspicions of my ancestry end there. My parents, both mixed between their separate Latine ethnicities and white, have mostly disregarded their connection with their Hispanic cultures; my paternal grandmother is an immigrant from Ecuador, and my maternal grandfather is Puerto Rican. For the duration of my childhood I had very little understanding of my heritage. I knew that my Abuelita, who I grew up to nickname “Grandma-lita”, spoke differently than me. I knew that I was able to understand her accent while others struggled. I still have never met my maternal grandfather, but I saw in pictures he resembled my mother, with black curly hair and tan skin. These facts were never significant to me until I felt the ways my hidden identity meant danger to those who weren’t able to blend in.
I identify as a Latina woman, more so now than ever. Shying away from my privilege only prevented me from standing in solidarity with my Latine brothers and sisters. But I understand that I do not live in fear of ICE detainment while others do; my features, cultural background, and accent do not match their criteria for what they might deem an “illegal”. Latino erasure, the representation of Hispanic identities from a post-colonial perspective that lacks nuance and historical context, is a dangerous cultural phenomenon that has encouraged stereotypes and negativity towards the community for decades.
With the idea of Latino erasure in mind, the overarching representation for Hispanic communities in the U.S. has long been debated. Latines amount to less than 4% of protagonists in American films. Even when we are included, 25% of Latine-speaking characters across 100 movies of 2019 were depicted as criminals. As we have discourse about Latine, Latino, Latinidad, Hispanic, or Latinx identities— the labels we use often vary and are debated between those within and outside of the community. Each of these umbrella terms faces skepticism in regards to how well they represent the multi-cultural and indigenous heritages of Latines in the U.S.
“If we look at the dominant Latine narratives in the media, they are generally from the same countries and backgrounds, and perhaps more importantly from the same race or skin color. As stories are continuing to be told, we have to realize what we see isn’t the totality of the Latine ethnicity.”
Jennifer A. Ferretti, Cristina Fontánez RodrĂguez, Yvette RamĂrez, Amanda Toledo, and Gabby Womack
Too often, Latines are grouped into a narrow box that allows for very little inclusion. The reality is, we come in all different colors and from many different backgrounds. As I rediscover my indigenous heritage outside of the Spanish lens, I feel more connected with the mission to end injustice against people who also identify as Latine. We are united through our connected heritages, and we are unique because of our individual personhood. No one gets to decide what “Latino” looks like, and especially not a government built on our colonization.