In The Community
Originally published in The Latino Newsletter–reprinted with permission.
As the 2024 election season unfolds, the Latino Election Project from The Latino Newsletter and New England Public Media features the work of student producers Ian Burger, Halima Mohamed, and Evanni Santos with support from Donyel Le’Noir Felton. The team is reporting on election cycle stories through the lens of the Latino community in western Massachusetts.
This is part five of a five-part series. The entire series is here.
SPRINGFIELD, MA — National exit polls revealed that Donald Trump achieved historic support among Latino voters, securing 45% of their votes—a level not reached by a Republican candidate since George W. Bush in 2004. In western Massachusetts cities like Holyoke and Springfield, where Latinos make up nearly half the population, preliminary results showed a noticeable shift toward Republican candidates.
To understand these voting trends, local Latina and Latino leaders shared their perspectives.
Xiomara DeLobato, vice president and chief of staff at the Economic Development Council of Western Massachusetts, wasn’t surprised by Trump’s support among Latino men, attributing it in part to cultural factors.
“That ingrained cultural machismo that we see a lot in the Latino community—it’s not a secret,” she said. “That misogyny that is very ingrained in our culture as a whole, right? All of Latin America, all of our countries in our heritage, it is, we're talking like centuries old.”
Holyoke Mayor Joshua Garcia saw Trump’s appeal as partly rooted in shared conservative values among many Latinos, alongside broader frustrations felt nationwide.
“The conservative ideas and values that most Latino cultures uphold on important issues that we all debate about across the country. And I think there's just a combination of factors that weighed in to why we saw what we saw,” he said.
Garcia also emphasized that national election outcomes shouldn’t overshadow local unity.
“It's frustrating because we all work so hard to foster unity, to foster collaboration, around our city,” he said. “And I just urge everybody not to let these results and other noise distract us from who we are as people, as human beings and what we have built together here.”
Springfield City Councilor Jose Delgado, who has observed a shift toward conservatism among Latinos, was similarly unsurprised by the election results.
“We all have different kinds of ideologies. And that’s something that I’ve noticed for a while,” Delgado said. “And I think that really played out in this election. You take Massachusetts aside, right? We’re kind of in our own little bubble. It’s obviously a blue state, but when I started reading some of the stuff that I was hearing from Latinos who are voting in Southern states, the stats showed that more and more are starting to lean right. Or more conservative.”
DeLobato also highlighted the economy as a major influence on voter behavior.
“We feel the impact to our purse,” she said, noting that many associated these economic concerns with the Biden-Harris administration, “when it’s a tax plan and economic plan that was inherited from the former administration.”
The team also spoke with voters in Springfield’s predominantly Latino North End, where economic issues were top of mind. While some voiced concerns about the economy, that didn’t necessarily translate into Republican support.
Ana Fontanez, who voted for Harris, said in Spanish that “Kamala is a Democrat, and Democrats have always supported the poor and the humble.”
“They support us because we’re in a country where we want to move forward and look to the future,” she added.
Jose Matias, another Springfield voter, explained his support for Harris over Trump, citing Trump’s treatment of Puerto Rico.
“The only ones that are going for Trump are unfortunately the Latinos that think they’re going to get money from him, which is not going to happen,” he said. “But after the comedian that roasted Puerto Rico, we definitely jumped on and said, you know what, screw him. And we’re definitely going to go with Harris.”
One thing is certain: the 2024 election highlights the diversity within the Latino electorate. Latinos are not a monolith. They are increasingly independent and prepared to hold both parties accountable.
Voces latinas reflexionan sobre los resultados de 2024
Las encuestas de salida nacionales revelan un apoyo histórico a Donald Trump entre votantes latinos, alcanzando el 45% de sus votos, un nivel que un candidato republicano no obtenía desde George W. Bush en 2004. En ciudades del oeste de Massachusetts como Holyoke y Springfield, donde los latinos representan casi la mitad de la población, los resultados preliminares muestran un cambio notable hacia los candidatos republicanos.
Para entender estas tendencias de votación, líderes latinos y latinas locales comparten sus perspectivas.
Xiomara DeLobato, vicepresidenta y jefa de gabinete del Consejo de Desarrollo Económico del Oeste de Massachusetts, no está sorprendida por el apoyo de los hombres latinos a Trump, atribuyéndolo en parte a factores culturales.
“Ese machismo cultural que vemos mucho en la comunidad latina, no es un secreto”, comenta. “Esa misoginia está muy integrada en nuestra cultura en general. Toda América Latina, todos nuestros países y nuestra herencia, estamos hablando de algo que tiene siglos de antigüedad”.
El alcalde de Holyoke, Joshua García, percibe el apoyo a Trump como reflejo de los valores conservadores que muchos latinos comparten, junto con frustraciones a nivel nacional.
“Las ideas y valores conservadores, que la mayoría de las culturas latinas sostienen en temas importantes que todos debatimos en el país. Y creo que es una combinación de factores que influyeron en lo que vimos”, dice García.
García también enfatiza que los resultados nacionales no deberían opacar la unidad local.
“Es frustrante porque todos trabajamos muy duro para fomentar la unidad y la colaboración en nuestra ciudad”, explica. “Les pido a todos que no dejemos que estos resultados nos distraigan de lo que somos como personas, como seres humanos y de lo que hemos construido juntos aquí”.
El concejal de Springfield, José Delgado, quien ve a más latinos inclinarse hacia ideas conservadoras, no se sorprende por los resultados de las elecciones.
“Todos tenemos diferentes tipos de ideologías. Y eso es algo que he notado desde hace tiempo”, comenta Delgado. “Creo que realmente se reflejó en esta elección. Dejando a un lado a Massachusetts, estamos en nuestra propia burbuja. Es obvio que es un estado azul, pero cuando comencé a leer y escuchar de los latinos que están votando en los estados del sur, las estadísticas mostraban que cada vez más empiezan a inclinarse hacia la derecha o más conservadores.”
De Lobato también destaca la economía como una influencia importante en las elecciones.
“Sentimos el impacto en nuestros bolsillos,” dice, señalando que muchos asociaban estas preocupaciones económicas con la administración de Biden-Harris, “aunque es un plan tributario y económico que fue heredado de la administración anterior.”
El equipo también habla con votantes en el vecindario predominantemente latino de North End en Springfield, donde las preocupaciones económicas ocupan un lugar destacado. Aunque algunos expresaron inquietudes sobre la economía, esto no necesariamente se traduce en apoyo a los republicanos.
Ana Fontanez, quien votó por Harris, dice: “Kamala es demócrata y siempre los demócratas están a favor de los pobres y de los más humildes”.
“Nos apoyan, porque estamos en un país donde queremos seguir adelante y mirar hacia el futuro”, añade.
Otro votante de Springfield, José Matías, explica su apoyo a Harris sobre Trump, citando el trato de Trump a Puerto Rico.
“Los únicos que están con Trump son, desafortunadamente, los latinos que piensan que van a obtener dinero de él, lo cual no va a suceder”, comenta. “Pero después de la forma en que trató a Puerto Rico, definitivamente dijimos, ya sabes qué, no gracias. Y definitivamente vamos a apoyar a Harris”.
Lo que queda claro es que la elección de 2024 confirma la diversidad dentro del electorado latino. Los latinos no son un sector homogéneo. Son cada vez más independientes y están listos para exigir responsabilidad a ambos partidos.
Ésta es la quinta y última entrega de una serie de cinco partesEl Proyecto Electoral Latino.
- Immigrating to Forced Assimilation: At What Cost? ›
- 5 Latina Activists Disrupting the Political Status Quo ›
Early morning, March 26, 2024. While most Baltimoreans were resting, thousands of others worked night shifts to keep the societal wheels turning for their neighbors.
Seven of those workers —all Latinos— were on the Francis Scott Key Bridge, making repairs that are often taken for granted by the over 31,000 drivers who cross it daily, when tragedy struck.
A container ship, the Dali, lost power, veered off course, and crashed into the bridge, causing it to collapse. All seven passengers were sent into the icy waters below. Only one survived.
Thanks to the diligence of local and national news outlets, we know initial calls to alert authorities that the Dali was drifting out of control potentially saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. We also know that as officials worked to stop bridge traffic in those crucial moments, they also discussed next steps over radio chatter, including alerting any work crews to leave the bridge.
Bridge personnel halted traffic but didn’t evacuate seven bridge workers — why?
The answer is unclear because while most media reported on the collapse’s economic impact and efforts to reopen, too few asked relevant questions about the largest tragedy of them all: the six people who lost their lives that day. They left behind children, spouses, and families dependent on their wages, yet commerce and bridge infrastructure dominated headlines.
The six workers who died, all from Latin American countries, were doing everyday jobs often overlooked and, for Latinos, disproportionately more dangerous. Where was the reporting about the lack of life-saving communication to these workers?
We can discern from past patterns that the lives of non-white Americans are portrayed differently than their white counterparts. When white women go missing, headlines blare. By contrast, according to a 2016 analysis by the Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, only about 1 in 5 missing person cases involving people of color are covered by the news media. When farm workers are caught in insidious climate catastrophes, their plights are rarely reported.
When seven bridge workers plunge into the cold and murky depths of the Patapsco River, too few ask why.
Latino media in crisis
As another critical presidential election nears, there’s plenty of hand-wringing around the growing U.S. news crisis. And rightly so. At a time when Americans need and deserve relevant, trustworthy information the most, newsrooms continue to reel from closures (2.5 newsrooms shutting down each week, on average), layoffs (nearly 2,400 already this year), consumer mistrust (39% of Americans have zero confidence in U.S. media), and plummeting revenues (down more than 50% since 2005).
For independent Latino media, however, the hand-wringing is all too familiar. There has never been a time when Latino media wasn’t in crisis. When U.S. newsrooms were rolling in multimillion-dollar investments and acquisitions, Latino media outlets were living hand-to-mouth while doing their absolute best to keep 64 million U.S. Latinos informed and accurately represented in media narratives.
To the uninformed, the combination of false stereotypes (‘all Latinos speak and prefer their news in Spanish”) and the outsized influence of multibillion-dollar media behemoths (Univision and Telemundo) might make it easy to believe that U.S. Latinos are well served.
There is nothing further from the truth.
To be clear, Latinos prefer consuming information in English, Spanish, and bilingually. Latinos aren’t a monolith in race, culture, or language. Many speak only English (31%), many speak only Spanish (an estimated 19%), and most speak both (75%), and to add further nuance, fluency or language dominance doesn’t pre-determine preference.
By one count, the nation’s 64 million Latinos are informed by just 558 media operators — a generous estimate when you consider that most of them publish through outdated print and broadcast models, have no dedicated newsroom staff, or don’t produce original content at all. If Puerto Rico is included, that number goes up to 624. While much attention is paid to the disappearance of local news, Latino media ends up lost among “ethnic outlets that fly below the radar and receive scant attention beyond the communities they serve,” per the authors of the “State of Local News 2023.” As a result, researchers opt to skip these outlets and promise to “delve more deeply” in future reports with no determined publication dates.
It’s difficult to know exactly how many Latino media operators exist and who they reach today because the last known deep dive media landscape study was done in 2019 by the Newmark Journalism School at CUNY — a year before the global pandemic accelerated the demise of newsrooms and media platforms across the country. (The CUNY team is preparing an update this fall.)
We don’t have a recent survey of how many Latino journalists are out of work, either, but we do know that even in places like Los Angeles County, where 49% of the population is Latino, the Los Angeles Times didn’t hesitate to pad its profit margin with a chopping block layered thick with Latino and other diverse journalists.
When Aquí, the national civil rights organization, wrote a letter to the Los Angeles Times asking for the reasoning behind gutting their Latino staff, leadership didn’t even bother to respond.
Is it any wonder then, why Latinos are so misunderstood, disenfranchised, and hard to reach?
Latinos generate $3.2 trillion dollars in GDP; if Latinos were a country, they’d have the fifth-largest economy in the world. They start businesses at a higher rate than any other group. They spend more time than anyone else streaming music, film, and entertainment, contributing an estimated $2.9 billion in box office receipts per year. They also dominate service jobs.
In recent years, nearly 1.2 million Americans lost their lives to a terrifying new virus, yet service workers, dubbed “essential workers” were asked to keep working to the benefit of everyone else. According to a Pew Research Center survey, 45% of Hispanic adults worked at jobs requiring them to work outside their homes during the worst of the pandemic. Latinos did what was needed for their families, their communities, and their country.
Yet when it came time to protect themselves with a vaccine, Latino and Black Americans were the least likely to get them compared to their white counterparts. Research has attributed these lower vaccination rates to various causes, such as exposure to misinformation, mistrust in the U.S. healthcare system due to historical injustices, uncertainty about eligibility, and discrepancies in the availability and distribution of vaccines.
Disinformation took root before fact-based information ever could. The truth never stood a chance. How many lives were lost because mainstream media didn’t know how to, or simply didn't bother prioritizing this community? How many lives could have been saved if more than 500 mostly small and underfunded outlets existed to reach 64 million people?
Introducing the Latino Media Consortium
Illustration by Sayuri Jimenez
By 2030, the Latino population will swell to 72 million. Latinos are integral to our culture, economy, and the American story, and yet, they remain practically invisible in the American media landscape.
As many philanthropic foundations, organized and inspired by the Press Forward movement, are mobilizing to inject at least $500 million into local news to attempt to save American media, we applaud the much-needed and exemplary commitment that the coalition of Press Forward funders have made through their individually aligned and Press Forward grant-making processes.
The utter dire state of Latino media, however, has made it increasingly clear that we need to highlight just how necessary it is to invest equitably in Latino media infrastructure. Nine Latino media operators — led by Lucy Flores, co-founder of Luz Media, and Amanda Zamora, co-founder of the 19th News and founder of Agencia Media, and supported by the Valiente Fund and the Latino Community Foundation — launched the Latino Media Consortium to pursue this goal.
Collectively, Latino Media Consortium publishers serve national and local audiences, immigrants and U.S.-born; they are nonprofit and for-profit and serve Latinos in their preferred languages of English, Spanish, or both. They report on issues fundamental to Latino lives —health care, child care, education, labor issues, government systems, and more— as well as the food, film, music, and culture that tie our communities together.
And they are growing. Latino Media Consortium publishers collectively grew their digital U.S. reach by 48% in the last year. Together, they serve more than 1.4 million people — nearly 4% of the Latino digital news market — across websites, social media, WhatsApp, events, broadcasts, and podcasts. With comparatively scant budgets and under-resourced newsrooms, these Latino media operators are growing because they have the trust of Latino audiences that mainstream media doesn’t.
And they deserve transformative investment.
Latinos continue to give to this country, rarely asking for anything in return other than what they earned. But we are asking now, on behalf of the nation’s 64 million Latinos, for equitable investment in an imperative that’s necessary in order to preserve a free and functioning democracy. Record numbers of Latinos become eligible to vote every year, and every single year, we see record Latino voter turnout in elections across the country. To continue to allow such a vital constituency to remain woefully uninformed, vulnerable, and confused is immoral at worst and democratic malpractice at best.
Over the next five years, the Consortium aims to raise and distribute $100 million in transformative grants for an entire ecosystem of publishers serving digital-first, Latino audiences. We are putting journalists back to work; producing news, information, and culturally relevant content; and capacity building such as grant-writing, business development, operations, and product development. A robust investment in the entire ecosystem is crucial to helping these news and media organizations scale and sustain their operations for the long term.
This country and this community need and deserve nothing less.
____
Join us: Contact info@wearelatinomedia.org for more information, download our deck, and sign up to get occasional consortium updates delivered to your inbox.
____
The members of the Latino Media Consortium are:
Agencia Media
palabra (a multimedia publication created by NAHJ)
- Latinas Are Fighting Against Voter Suppression in Florida ›
- Poder NC Taps into Culture to Inspire Latine Voting ›
First things first: I’m a “mande” girlie. That’s just how my mama raised me, even though I won’t say it’s right.
Having had the experience of interacting with people from different cultures in the classroom, there’s this one thing that always gets a strong reaction from me: when a professor addresses a student and the student responds with: “WHAT?” Or “WHAT’S THAT?”
I’m telling you, the reaction from me is instant. My eyes dart back to the professor, my fight or flight kicks in, and I’m almost drafting a mental apology for this person who, in my opinion, has just been particularly rude.
Of course, that never happens. The thing is, it’s not universally seen that way, right? Maybe it’s just the Mexican in me reacting based on what I’ve been taught.
“Se dice mande,” my mom would correct me if I responded with any other answer to her calls like, “Qué? Qué pasó? Eh? Mm?”
“Se dice mande!” Apologies would follow, and naturally, I’d switch to the “mande” to continue our chat, otherwise, a flying chancla might have been my fate.
In recent years, an intriguing debate has surfaced: is “mande” polite, or is it a subtle form of teaching submissiveness?
In a culture that places immense value on respecting our elders, it's unsurprising that "mande" has been deeply instilled in us from a young age. We say it out of respect. Yet, it still amuses me how I react to someone not using it. My immediate response is to be on guard, as if I'm bracing for someone to become angry or reprimand them. That’s rooted in my upbringing, a conditioned reflex.
Where does the term “mande come from?
To trace the roots of "mande," we need to explore Mexico's colonial past. When the Spanish colonized Mexico in the 16th century, they introduced not only their religion and administration but also their language, customs, and societal norms. The indigenous populations were subjugated and served the Spanish rulers.
It is in this backdrop that "mande" is believed to have been born. Directly translated, "mande" means "order me" or "command me." The indigenous or lower-class people were expected to reply with "mande" when addressed by Spanish rulers, signaling their readiness to obey. Over time, this phrase permeated the common vernacular, evolving into a way for Mexicans to say, "Pardon?" or "Excuse me?".
For many, especially older generations, saying "mande" is akin to "please" and "thank you." They see it as a sign of respect, especially towards elders or authority figures. However, many believe it's a colonial relic, symbolizing the historical subjugation of the Mexican people. Using "mande," they argue, maintains the power dynamics of colonial times, subtly promoting submission.
This debate is so potent, it’s even become a marketing strategy. Ever seen the Corona “Yo Mando” campaign?
Corona wants Mexicans to transition from “mande” to “mando.” It’s a bold move, but will it stick?
Language is dynamic. It changes and evolves, reflecting shifts in societal values and understanding. Take the “Latine/Latinx” debacle, for example. Whether you like either of the terms, actually use them, or feel so strongly against them you need to comment on every social media post using them with a flurry of insults, the terms exist. The terms are used by some, or by many. And they are here to stay.
Similarly, with “mande,” there's no definitive answer. With the rise of decolonial movements and a broader awareness of historical contexts, there's been a noticeable shift in how younger generations approach the term. Many choose to opt for neutral alternatives like “Qué?” “Qué pasó?” “Sí?” which are all perfectly valid. If you value “mande” as polite, “Dime?” or “Diga?” can be just as courteous.
This is not just an attempt to break away from colonial ties but also a part of the larger global trend where societies are reflecting on and challenging their historical and cultural baggage.
So, is saying "mande" wrong?
Here’s a hot take: there's no right or wrong way to express oneself (provided you aren't being hurtful or discriminatory to anyone), and I’m certainly not here to tell you what is right or what is wrong. What is important is that we challenge and question our language, our words, and the way we express ourselves and interact with the world, because language has been around for ages and, well, times change.
It’s great that we’re even having this debate, and it’s great that many of us are now taking a pause to ponder which word better suits us - and that’s the beauty of the Spanish language, and any language, really. It’s also the beauty of our choice to participate in the changing of norms that no longer match the times.