Donald Trump’s second administration has fully clarified Latinos’ racial position in America: our ethnic group’s labor, culture, and aspirations are too much for his supporters to stomach. The Latino presence in America triggers too many uneasy questions (are they White?), too many doubts (are they really American?), and too much resentment (why are they doing better than me?).
Trump’s targeted deportations of undocumented Latinos, unwarranted arrests of Latino citizens, and heightened ICE presence in Latino neighborhoods address these worries by lumping Latinos with Black people. Simply put, we have become yet another visible population that America socially stigmatizes, economically exploits, and politically terrorizes because aggrieved White adults want to preserve their rank as our nation’s premier racial group. The cumulative impacts are serious: just yesterday, an international panel of investigators on human rights and racism, backed by the U.N., found that such actions have resulted in “grave human rights violations.”
Racism like this is a major liability for a multi-racial democracy like ours—and Latinos must push back against it by nurturing greater political solidarity with Black Americans. Doing so will ensure that our children and grandchildren enjoy more equity and opportunity than we do in a society where our voices are actively silenced and regularly ignored. It will also guarantee that democracy is practiced to its fullest capacity by the time our children and grandchildren become voting-age adults.
U.S. society often lures Latinos to think of themselves as ambitious and hard-working, usually to distinguish themselves from racist tropes about Black people. Do not take the bait! This is a short-sighted strategy devoid of historical understanding. All immigrant groups before us—Irish, Italians, Jews— actively chose to distance themselves from Black people, which means they were highly aware of the price of being Black in America.
The truth is that Latinos have always been substantially closer to the Black experience in America than the trajectory of Irish, Italian, Jewish, and other European immigrants—and we must start acting like it. As a Latino person, if you sense that democracy is falling apart because your voting rights are being rolled back, because law enforcement is abusing rather than protecting your communities, or because you feel that no matter how hard you work, things are less affordable, then the answer is to combine your voices with Black Americans, who share these and other opinions.
My lab’s data-driven research shows that when Latinos and Blacks view themselves as being on the same political “team,” they make real progress toward democratic goals. Indeed, when Latinos and Blacks are reminded about the similarities between their experiences with racial discrimination, Black adults become more supportive of policies that benefit Latinos (e.g., flexible immigration procedures) while Latinos express more generous attitudes toward Blacks (e.g., support for Black Lives Matter).
My message to my Latino co-ethnics is simple. Today, we can do what is right for our ethnic group and others who are positioned similarly, and join communities, activists, and other groups working to dismantle the structures that create racial disparities and promote Black-Latino conflict. Some of these efforts will involve new coalitions between grassroots organizations seeking to enhance the well-being of Black and Latino families during these trying times, as is now happening in Northern California. Other efforts will involve recharged alliances between Black and Latino elected officials and civic leaders, such as those led by Mayor Karen Bass in Los Angeles and Mayor Brandon Johnson in Chicago.
Before Trump’s arrival, we Latinos told ourselves that we were also “minorities”—but only temporarily. Sure, our parents and grandparents came here with little, often lived in squalor, and experienced exclusion from the mainstream. But this would eventually pass, we told ourselves, because our children and grandchildren would experience upward mobility.
But that strategy isn’t working out for us. Yes, we can take out mortgages for homes. We can finance cars. We can even send some of our kids to college. But these developments are deceptive. We are accumulating little intergenerational wealth, we have atrociously weak political representation, and we remain stuck in jobs where our skill sets far outstrip our pay. As a result, despite working hard, our future prospects are dimming amid all these trappings of progress.
The goal here is not to pretend that we are all the same; it’s to acknowledge that we are more similar than different. This simple shift in perception produces more camaraderie between Latinos and African Americans, especially among Democratic people of color. This political unity translates into larger and more energized blocs of Latino and Black voters that support political candidates and policy proposals that uplift the voices and concerns of our communities.
In our political system, victories still demand large numbers of votes. So, it is in our collective interest for Latino and Black people to unify and act in tandem when opportunities present themselves, just as they are at this very moment. Together we can achieve what we and others most fundamentally need – a truly multi-racial democracy that faithfully responds to our interests and preserves our rights.
Dr. Efrén Pérez is a professor of political science and psychology at UCLA, where he directs the Race, Ethnicity, Politics, & Society (REPS) Lab. He is the author of several award-winning books, including Diversity’s Child: People of Color and the Politics of Identity. His data-based research can be accessed at https://eoperez.com