Why the Plight of Immigrants Is a Humanitarian Issue We Can't Afford to Ignore

Growing up in a culturally diverse immigrant family provides a unique viewpoint on the most pressing issues that we face as a society

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As a child of Cuban immigrants who grew up in abject poverty, I’ve had a front-row seat to the struggles of my hard-working parents. Now, in their 70s and 80s, they’re still fighting to get by. After coming to the U.S. from Cuba it almost feels like poverty is generational to us. For many white people in rural areas like Appalachia and Black people in inner cities all over the country, the sentiment is all too familiar.

Poverty is an issue that affects a growing number of people in the United States. No longer is being middle class enough to be comfortable or financially stable. As a child of immigrants with no generational wealth, I can see how the most impoverished people in the United States are too often ignored by so-called ‘civil society’.

Although immigrants are often derided to score cheap political points, there is very little effort to understand or sympathize with the challenges they face. This is a trend that has to change if we are ever to achieve the dream of prosperity for all.

Challenges that are not unique to immigrants

My parents divorced when I was 6 years old. My father married an Afro-Colombian woman who has been part of my life for over 40 years. My mother is married to a Jamaican man who has been my stepfather for decades. I have seen and still see what they go through because of the color of their skin. I have Black siblings, nieces, and nephews, and a large segment of my Cuban family are Afro-Cubans that my grandfather turned his back on.

Yes, he was a racist.

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However, my grandmother, who only left Cuba and came to the United States to live out her days with her grandchildren was arguably the most open and ‘woke’ person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. She opened my eyes to a family history I never knew. She taught me about our food and our Afro-Indigenous culture, and despite having Portuguese lineage, her focus was always on the most oppressed groups in our family, in Cuba, and around the world.

Cultural diversity makes my family what it is

My grandmother explained how our lineage comes from impoverished people who came to Cuba to work the fields when there was no work to be found in Southern Europe. This is where our African heritage was born and where our culture diverged into one that is ethnically and racially diverse. No one else in my family ever sat down with her to learn these things. Now, my family turns to me when they have questions about our familial culture beyond what a DNA test can tell us.

In recent decades, the Afro-Cuban side of our family has been a larger part of our lives than ever before because more of our people know the real story that my grandfather refused to acknowledge. After he passed, we were able to have broader discussions about who we were historically and who we are today. These conversations made me realize why I feel so comfortable around Black women and why I feel the need to uplift Black voices.

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Whether you like it or not, this is who I am. Our family cookouts and get-togethers are wild. We have fun like no other family I know. We provide a window into what the United States could be if people were more open and embraced cultural diversity and inclusion instead of using it as a weapon against our myriad communities. We would all be much better off if we focused on having fun with each other instead of having to beat back hate at every turn.

The Importance of telling the truth about poverty

As a journalist, I cover poverty because I’ve lived it. After surviving a stroke ten years ago, I’m as poor as ever despite my successes in life. I’ve been a decently successful musician and a successful business owner and lost it all due to my medical condition. I started taking journalism courses online after the stroke.

I cover many Black issues from maternal mortality to racism to the disproportionate attacks by law enforcement against Black people that too often lead to their deaths and incarceration. This has led me to cover corruption within the prison-industrial complex and how laws are used to steal property and devastate families and entire communities. Yes, colonialism is alive and well.

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I know how Black women are treated because of my stepmom, my sister, and my niece. I’ve seen how they are treated despite doing everything in their power to be accepted by white society. I see how the products they use are locked away in stores. I see how people who work in those stores treat them and follow them around whether I’m with them or not. I saw those same things as a kid growing up with Black friends decades ago in Union City, N.J., and even now in Texas.

The more things change, the more they stay the same

I cover immigration because I know what it’s like to be desperate; to escape oppression and tyranny, real tyranny–not "not the bland inconveniences that are mislabeled as tyranny by many in the U.S. I studied white supremacy and racism because it permeates all aspects of society including immigration. Even well-meaning white people can be racist whether they’re aware of it or not.

Immigration is a tough topic that requires every bit of context. However, out-of-context media narratives drive animus toward immigrants despite my adding the context it needs. It’s why so many people who were against Trump’s policies now support the same policies under Biden.

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I often refer to what I do as ‘decolonized journalism’ because I challenge how mainstream media narratives shape conversations about the topics mentioned here. Corporate media hates me for it, but many journalists who work in those places love me because I cover and say things that would likely get them fired or at the very least, in deep trouble.

What I Do Makes An Impact on Those That Matter Most

Poverty, racism, and xenophobia are all things that have had a large (negative) impact on my and my family’s life and I won’t stand for any of it. Yes, I’m vocal and often abrasive about it but that’s because I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of the people who promote and espouse racist behavior or demonize poor people.

I do not fear being shut out of mainstream media for my style of journalism. They shut me out long ago and that’s okay. Because when you know you're not going to be treated fairly for long enough, you stop being afraid of what they might do to you. I'm used to it.

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Like many journalists, my readers and politicians in Congress (which I also cover) love me for what I do and that's who matters in a society that is turning its back and losing trust in the news media by the minute. The war in Ukraine exposed Western media’s racist biases. The war in Palestine exposed its colonialist nature.

These most recent events only add to how the media demonizes Black people, poor people, and immigrants. Good people can’t stand by and do nothing as society increasingly criminalizes poverty and homelessness - all societal failures of Western culture.

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I am an independent reporter, writer, publisher of Capitol Press and The Antagonist Magazine, and a regular contributor at Unicorn Riot. You can find me on TikTok, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Mastodon, and Threads. To support my work become a paid subscriber or donate on Venmo, PayPal, or CashApp