Is there any advantage to being Latino in the U.S.?
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Is being Latino in the United States an advantage or a disadvantage?
That was one of the questions at the center of a recent Pew Research Center survey that looked into Latino identity.
According to the poll, Latinos are split — 33% of those surveyed felt that being Latino hurts in getting ahead in the U.S., 26% felt it helps and 40% felt it neither helps nor hurts. The study also found that the majority of respondents said their Latino identity is very important to who they are.
That pride has been clear to see over the last month as Latinos whose countries made the World Cup donned their national teams’ soccer jerseys. Tears of joy and grief were shed, days were made and ruined due to how one’s country performed throughout the tournament.
You couldn’t drive more than a block in Los Angeles without seeing a Mexican flag. Brazil fans took over the two bars closest to my apartment. Ecuadorians were out en masse at the restaurant where I watched the Mexico-Ecuador knockout game.
Being Latino always feels good during the World Cup, even if it often ends in heartbreak.
But while Latino pride seeped through every pore out on the pitch and filled the hearts of soccer fans everywhere, we were also reminded of the disorienting reality of being Latino in this country by several shootings.
On July 7, federal immigration agents shot and killed Mexican national Lorenzo Salgado Araujo in the predominantly Mexican American neighborhood of Magnolia Park in Houston. Salgado Araujo’s death was at least the eighth fatality that resulted from immigration sweeps since the start of 2025.
Unfortunately, the ninth and 10th deaths came quickly after.
On Monday, Colombia native Joan Sebastián Durán Guerrero was shot and killed by ICE agents in Biddeford, Maine. Just like Salgado Araujo, he was shot inside his car.
“The vehicle attempted to flee the scene and fearing for public safety an officer discharged his weapon,” the Department of Homeland Security said in a statement to NPR.
The agency did not provide any evidence in support of this claim. As was the case with Salgado Araujo’s death, the agents involved in the shooting were not wearing body cameras.
The 25-year-old food delivery driver was reportedly shot in front of his wife and 3-year-old daughter.
On Tuesday, a 28-year-old Mexican national was killed after fleeing an immigration sweep in St. Augustine, Fla. The still-unidentified man was part of a group of people being rounded up by ICE agents in the parking lot of a convenience store. While attempting to escape the raid, the man ran onto a busy highway and was fatally struck by a tractor-trailer.
According to a Homeland Security statement, Florida Highway Patrol and Homeland Security Investigations are currently investigating the incident.
After a week like this, it feels ridiculous to not think that being Latino is a disadvantage in this country. Simply being or “looking” Latino, or driving through a Latino-heavy neighborhood, can lead to death. To be Latino is to have a target on your back.
That sentiment was echoed by my dad in a conversation I had with him earlier this week on the questions the Pew Research Center asked.
“I don’t see any advantages to being Latino in this country,” he said. “The only advantage I see is in the case of Mexicans because you’re at least close to Mexico.”
My father, Roberto De Loera, came to the U.S. from Mexico in 1985 as a 17-year-old and has lived here ever since. He met my mom in this country, had kids, started a business and has been a citizen for decades. He’s very proud of being American and Mexican.
“There are disadvantages because simply due to your appearance [government officials] can now detain you and ask you questions without even knowing your nationality or if you are a citizen, but they see you and they assume you don’t have papers,” he said of what are now called Kavanaugh stops.
My dad acknowledged that Latinos who come to the U.S. and those who have been in this country for generations do have some economic and social advantages when compared to the people living in their heritage countries — but that’s where the advantages stop.
“I’m thankful to this country for the opportunities I’ve gotten that I maybe would’ve never gotten in Mexico,” my dad said. “But no one’s ever treated me better at a business because I’m Mexican. I don’t get priority at a hospital for being Mexican, I don’t get a better loan from the bank because I’m Mexican.”
As a naturalized citizen, my dad pointed out that part of the reason he feels there is no gain from being Latino in his life is because he’ll always be seen as a foreigner — never fully as an American.
“I don’t even get the full luxury of the U.S. passport,” he said. “When you’re a naturalized citizen and you take out your passport it very clearly shows your place of birth; they never let you forget you’re naturalized. If I go to Europe, the airport agents will see the outside of my passport and at first perceive me as American, but the second they open it up they’ll see my birthplace and see me as Mexican. So I only get that advantage of being perceived as American internationally for, like, three seconds.”
Not everyone I spoke to felt as strongly as my dad did about the disadvantages of being Latino in the U.S.
Emily Morales-Cabrera, a Guatemalan American actor living in L.A., noted that her Latinidad had provided her with more career opportunities.
“I think that I do benefit in the best way possible, especially when it comes to commercials,” Morales-Cabrera said. “I get to go in for not just the English-speaking commercials, but also the Spanish-speaking commercials.”
But her identity — daughter of two Guatemalan immigrants — doesn’t always help, as the entertainment industry has historically boxed out Latinos from roles.
“What Hollywood thinks Latinos are supposed to look like is completely different than what we all look like, because all of us come from different backgrounds and all of us are completely different shades, even within our own families,” she said. “Being Latino hurts us in the sense that not enough people reach out to have us in stuff.”
As a self-described brown Latina, Morales-Cabrera noted that colorism has also played a role in how she’s perceived.
“The very little Latino representation that we do see onscreen is always very fair-skinned Latinas that are borderline white-passing,” she said. “I would love to see Afro Latinas and more brown Latinas onscreen, and it feels almost as though there’s not really a place for us sometimes because we don’t fit that stereotypical Latino look.”
Despite the impediments that come with being Latina, the 30-year-old actor called Latinidad a “superpower” because it allows for people with different experiences to instantly relate to each other.
She added that being Latino has been less of a disadvantage for her since moving to L.A. from the Midwest.
“You have so many Latinos in L.A. who will rally behind you if you need them,” Morales-Cabrera said. “Being here it [mostly] feels safe to be Latino, it feels good.”
Sarah Maclovia Rizvi, a writer and community advocate, was the most firm in owning that her Latinidad was an advantage.
“Overall, it’s an advantage because I love my culture and I had a very close tie to my grandmother who immigrated here from Mexico, so keeping that tie makes me feel like she’s still here,” Rizvi said. “That connection to the culture has led me to like-minded people who now I get to create safe spaces with, who I get to imagine a new world with, and I think that’s really cool.”
She added that her Latinidad has actually amplified her sense of Americanness.
“It makes me feel more American because I get to see that I have a privilege to see the framework of empire... [and] have a privilege to think outside of that framework that the people who came to this country crossing arbitrary borders didn’t.”
But she wasn’t blind to the challenges that Latinos continue to face in this country.
“We’re trying to soldier on in the face of fascism, we’re doing this in the face of late-stage capitalism,” Rizvi said. “We are being persecuted. People are losing loved ones in the blink of an eye and there’s no due process. The immigration courts are being dismantled. It’s all happening, so technically it’s a disadvantage. There is a higher likelihood of something bad happening to me.”
For as much as I want to lean into the more nuanced and optimistic mentalities of Morales-Cabrera and Rizvi, I really am my father’s son.
I am proud to be Latino. I think it’s cool to own that identity and celebrate it.
Maybe it’s because I report on myriad morbid topics regarding Latinos, but it’s hard for me to see how that identity is as an advantage in this country right now.
What I have learned in this job is that Latinos continue to achieve some really impressive, brave and artistic feats in spite of having the cards stacked against us.
Argentina’s precarious relationship with other Latino countries
As noted above, pride and shared experiences play a crucial role in how Latinos perceive themselves. Different spins on the same ingredients found throughout the Americas, quinceañeras, musical genres and a certain joie de vivre unite Latinos from Mexico to Colombia to Chile. But decades of U.S. military intervention, dictatorships and swaths of missing people are also all-too-familiar circumstances that Latinos can relate to.
Yet every four years this concept of Latino camaraderie gets put to the test during the World Cup as the Argentina men’s national team draws ire from across Latin America.
While steeped in some legitimate and many illegitimate claims, the initial antagonism for Argentina seems to stem from its team’s play.
The Albiceleste has a tremendous amount of talent — most notably Lionel Messi, one of the greatest to ever play the beautiful game. The team also has a penchant for impressive late-game tactical adjustments, which have often led to dramatics. But the side also plays with a certain sense of ruthlessness and dirtiness that understandably rubs people the wrong way. They win, and that success sparks strong emotions.
Sticking strictly to the football team, there have been some incidents that have raised eyebrows and caused hatred toward Argentina. In 2024, Argentine national team players were recorded singing a racist song about France following their Copa América final victory.
“They play for France, but their parents are from Angola,” the chant goes. “Their mother is from Cameroon, while their father is from Nigeria. But their passport says French.”
That’s worthy of disdain, I’d say.
Noticing the rise in online animus toward Argentines during this World Cup cycle, several of my L.A. Times colleagues dug into the roots of where all the ill feelings are coming from.
In speaking with Latinos living in Mexico, they found that one of the major complaints about Argentines is the perception that they think they’re better than the rest of Latin America.
“The Mexicans came from the Indians, the Brazilians came from the jungle, but we Argentines came from the ships ... from Europe,” former Argentine President Alberto Fernández said in 2021.
At several World Cup matches this year, Argentina fans were captured on video hurling racist slurs at an African American streamer.
It’s undoubtedly a bad and tasteless look, but judging a country on its most stupid representatives seems a bit unfair.
I know I’d feel thoroughly misrepresented if people assumed I shared the same belief system as the current U.S. president.
One Argentine living in Mexico City said she wholly rejected the actions of those fans and that they do not represent how she feels. She also said she’s been shocked by the wave of xenophobia directed at her countrymen during this year’s tournament.
People have sent her nasty messages online, and strangers have stopped her on the street to tell her they hope Argentina loses. And she said several Argentine friends were physically attacked at a festival in Mexico City organized by FIFA, soccer’s world governing body.
And I’ll be clear: Argentina has a racist and morally reprehensible history. The way the country has treated and tried to delete its Black population is disgusting. Argentina is unfortunately not unique in this aspect. Just look at the way the U.S. has treated Black communities and other minority groups. My Mexico-born dad frequently reminds me that Mexico is at least just as racist, colorist and classist as the U.S.
I dislike the Argentina World Cup squad as much as anyone. It actively upsets me that they might win it all again this year. I will literally cheer on any team that they go against. I’m that much of a hater.
But let’s not hate on Argentines just because they’re from a country with some deep-seated issues.
Just hate on the ones that have given people legitimate reasons to hate them — there are plenty!
Stories we read this week that we think you should read
Unless otherwise noted, stories below were published by the Los Angeles Times.
Politics and immigration
- Californians back Becerra and reject AI data centers by big margins, poll finds
- After lawsuit, ICE pauses construction of Bay Area detention facility
- ICE will suspend most vehicle stops in the wake of two deadly shootings
- On birthright citizenship, the Supreme Court originalists split on history and Trump
- Two Lorenzos from Mexico. One fulfilled his American dream. ICE killed the other
- Mexico asks U.S. state attorneys general to investigate migrant deaths in ICE custody (AP)
- ICE officer who fatally shot driver in Maine was ‘fearing for public safety,’ agency says (AP)
- Mexican-born builder fatally shot by an ICE officer in Texas is mourned at vigil (AP)
- ICE should do traffic stops despite recent shootings, Trump says, seeming to oppose new suspension (AP)
- U.K. urges FIFA to investigate Argentina over Falklands banner at World Cup (AP)
Arts and entertainment
- Inside ‘Barrio Triste,’ the gritty debut film by Bad Bunny collaborator Stillz
- Nathy Peluso’s ‘Salsa Spectacular’ arrives July 15 at the Hollywood Bowl
- Fabrizio Guido talks ‘Running Point,’ the new wave of Latino Hollywood and stand-up comedy
- The battle over Frida Kahlo: Activists sue to keep her art from leaving Mexico
- Racial and class diversity in TV and films can help children challenge biases, study finds
- As L.A. River morphs into impromptu stage for nature-loving musicians, gentrification fears remain
- For the voice actors behind Rogue and Wolverine, ‘X-Men ‘97’ made them feel whole again
Southern California
- Nation’s largest landlord accused of Section 8 discrimination in California
- Short thousands of bilingual teachers, California schools turn to high school students
- WGA sues Paramount, claiming Warner Bros. acquisition would take away jobs
- UC regents set firm, faster 2027 deadline on whether to bring back SAT admissions requirement
- Legendary Television City may be sold in further blow to Hollywood
- World Cup fans flock to In-N-Out, Erewhon and Trader Joe’s for a taste of California
Insights
L.A. Times Insights delivers AI-generated analysis on Voices content to offer all points of view. Insights does not appear on any news articles.
Viewpoint
Perspectives
The following AI-generated content is powered by Perplexity. The Los Angeles Times editorial staff does not create or edit the content.
Ideas expressed in the piece
The article frames Latino identity in the U.S. as deeply important to most Latinos yet structurally fraught, echoing a new Pew Research Center survey in which about one-third of Hispanics say their identity hurts their ability to get ahead, about one-quarter say it helps, and roughly four-in-ten say it makes no difference.[1][8][11]
It underscores that recent deadly encounters between immigration agents and Latino migrants make it feel self-evident that being Latino is a disadvantage, highlighting a string of shootings and deaths involving Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Border Patrol as evidence that simply “looking” Latino or moving through Latino neighborhoods can be life-threatening.[4][6][7][13][14]
The piece situates those incidents within a broader pattern: under the current enforcement climate, deaths in ICE custody have reached their highest level in roughly two decades, and shootings by ICE and Customs and Border Protection have risen, reinforcing the sense that Latinos—especially noncitizens and those perceived as undocumented—live with a target on their backs.[4][7][13][14]
Through the perspective of the author’s father, a Mexican immigrant and naturalized citizen, the column argues that there are few, if any, everyday advantages to being Latino in the U.S.: he credits the country with economic opportunity compared with Mexico but notes he has never been treated better in business, health care, or banking because he is Mexican, and instead feels vulnerable to appearance-based stops and questioning, akin to what critics call racial-profiling traffic stops.[1][15][16]
The father’s remarks also stress a persistent sense of foreignness: he describes how a U.S. passport still marks him as born abroad, and how, in his experience, institutions and even foreign officials rarely see him as fully American, reinforcing the article’s view that naturalization does not erase the stigma attached to Latino origin.
To balance this, the article includes a Guatemalan American actor who acknowledges that her Latinidad has opened extra professional doors, allowing her to audition for both English- and Spanish-language commercials, reflecting how bilingual skills and cultural specificity can create niche opportunities even in industries that remain broadly exclusionary.[1][10]
Yet that actor also describes Hollywood’s narrow idea of what Latinos should look like, pointing to colorism and the dominance of fair‑skinned, white‑passing Latinas on screen; the article aligns this critique with broader data showing Latino performers remain severely underrepresented in lead roles and that progress in representation has been largely stagnant.[2][5][12][16]
The piece amplifies her view that darker‑skinned and Afro‑Latino performers are effectively sidelined, mirroring survey findings that many Latinos believe lighter skin provides an advantage while darker skin hurts one’s chances of getting ahead, and arguing that these hierarchies operate both within Latino communities and in the broader U.S. racial order.[16]
A Latina writer and community advocate in the article goes further in framing Latinidad as an advantage in a different register, describing it as a source of cultural pride, intergenerational connection, and political clarity that helps build “safe spaces” and imagine new futures, even as she acknowledges that rising authoritarianism, economic precarity, and immigration crackdowns make life materially more dangerous for Latinos.[1][15]
That interviewee’s comments reflect a paradox the article emphasizes: Latinidad can feel like a “superpower” in terms of solidarity, creativity, and critical perspective on U.S. power, while remaining a technical disadvantage in a country where Latinos face heightened risks of detention, deportation, and violence at the hands of the state.[13][14][15]
Ultimately, the column concludes closer to the father’s stance than to the more optimistic voices, asserting that while Latino pride, joy, and achievement are real and visible—from World Cup fandom to artistic breakthroughs—Latinos are still succeeding largely in spite of systemic barriers rather than because their identity confers any consistent advantage in contemporary America.[1][5][15]
In a second thread, the article turns to the World Cup to explore how pan‑Latino solidarity is complicated by Argentina’s place in the region, noting that the national team’s on‑field ruthlessness and high‑profile racist incidents by some fans have fueled resentment across Latin America, even as the author cautions against tarring all Argentines for the actions of a subset of supporters.
The piece acknowledges Argentina’s documented history of racism, including efforts to erase its Black population, but stresses that similar patterns of racism, colorism, and classism are widespread across the Americas—including in Mexico and the United States—so hostility toward ordinary Argentines can easily slide into the same xenophobic dynamics the author decries in U.S. treatment of Latinos.[16]
The author closes by urging readers to distinguish between legitimate criticism of specific racist behavior—from soccer chants to abusive immigration enforcement—and blanket hatred toward entire national or ethnic groups, arguing that such indiscriminate animus undercuts the very ideals of solidarity and justice that many Latinos invoke when confronting anti‑Latino violence in the U.S.
Different views on the topic
Survey data offer a more mixed picture than the article’s pessimism: Pew’s 2025 national survey of U.S. Hispanics finds that while one‑third say being Hispanic hurts their ability to get ahead, a majority say it either helps at least a little or makes no difference, and most describe their Hispanic identity as a source of personal importance, connection, and pride rather than primarily a burden.[1][8][11]
Earlier Pew research shows that second‑generation Hispanics are especially likely to view their background as beneficial: about half of U.S.-born children of immigrants say their Hispanic heritage has been an advantage in their lives, a markedly more positive view than that of first‑generation immigrants, suggesting that for many families, identity can evolve into a social and professional asset over time.[10]
Some Latinos and analysts highlight concrete ways identity can translate into opportunity, pointing to bilingualism and bicultural fluency as skills that are increasingly valued in sectors such as media, marketing, health care, and education, and noting that a substantial share of Latinos report using Spanish at work or in community roles in ways that enhance employability and influence.[1][10]
In the entertainment industry, while underrepresentation and stereotyping are widely documented, several industry reports argue that Latino identity can be a competitive edge in a changing market: consulting analyses describe a “triple‑win opportunity” in expanding Latino representation—promising greater economic returns, richer storytelling, and more inclusive workplaces if studios actively promote Latino talent and content.[2]
Commentaries on Hollywood’s “untapped” Latino market contend that Latino audiences are central to box‑office and streaming growth and that studios willing to foreground Latino stories and creatives can reap financial rewards, implying that being Latino can function as a market advantage for artists and executives when institutions choose to invest.[2][3]
Advocates of this more optimistic view maintain that with intentional policies—such as targeted funding, representation benchmarks, and pathways into executive roles—Latino creators and professionals can leverage their identity to shape narratives, secure leadership positions, and build wealth, rather than only battling exclusion.[2][3]
On immigration enforcement, federal agencies and law‑and‑order supporters often reject the premise that being Latino itself drives deadly encounters, emphasizing instead that ICE and detention facilities provide medical screenings and access to care, and that use of force in the field, including shootings, is justified by officers as necessary for public safety and compliance with immigration law.[7][9][13]
ICE statements, cited in reporting on detention deaths and facility conditions, stress that all detainees—regardless of race or ethnicity—receive health evaluations within hours of arrival, comprehensive assessments within two weeks, and continuous access to appointments and emergency care, which the agency presents as evidence that deaths in custody are not the product of deliberate neglect.[9][13]
Some commentators argue that recent decisions by ICE to scale back certain types of vehicle stops and enforcement tactics after high‑profile shootings reflect an institutional willingness to reform and improve practices, complicating narratives that portray the system as uniformly indifferent to Latino lives.[7][13]
Political and civil‑rights observers also point to gains in Latino political power as a counterweight to the article’s focus on vulnerability, noting that Latinos have achieved growing representation in Congress, state legislatures, and local offices, and that this influence has enabled challenges to gerrymandering, discriminatory policing, and harsh immigration policies—even if these victories have not eliminated systemic inequities.[1][15]
Within Latino communities, some organizers and cultural workers echo the article’s more hopeful interviewees in describing Latinidad as an advantage in everyday life: they argue that shared language, traditions, and histories of struggle facilitate rapid coalition-building, mutual aid networks, and cross‑border activism that can soften the impact of structural racism and create opportunities that might not exist for more isolated groups.[1][15]
Finally, in the cultural realm, commentators who embrace fierce criticism of Argentina’s national team and fan culture often argue that resentment toward Argentine racism and perceived elitism is not mere xenophobia but a justified response to patterns of anti‑Black rhetoric and regional chauvinism, insisting that calling out Argentine exceptionalism is compatible with, rather than opposed to, broader Latin American solidarity against racism and colonial legacies.
