Central Americans in Diaspora: Identity, Education, and Visibility
Dr. Lauren Frances Guerra sees points of light beyond El Norte
Gregory Nava’s classic film El Norte (1983) captures the plight of two Mayan siblings as they leave their pueblo in Guatemala and travel north in search of a better life.
The film documents their journey from their pueblo through parts of Mexico and finally to the United States of America. Upon arrival, they are met with tremendous disillusionment and continued struggle. Needless to say, the U.S.A. is not flowing with milk and honey nor are “the streets paved with gold,” as the siblings envisioned.
Watching El Norte, I couldn’t help but think about my own grandparents’ immigration story. They arrived in Los Angeles from Guatemala City in the early 1950s. I distinctly remember watching El Norte in Spanish class as a young girl and being struck by the fact that it was the first time I had ever heard Guatemala mentioned in a major motion picture. No one in my class had ever heard of Guatemala at all, and now, poverty and suffering were the only image they had of my maternal heritage.
While there is a Central American presence in Los Angeles, the city remains predominantly Chicano/Mexican-American. Unfortunately, my classmates had no idea how beautiful and resilient the people of Guatemala are. They had no idea how awe-inspiring the city of Antigua or the ancient Mayan ruins of Tikal are. They had no idea how delicious chuchitos or tostadas are. They had no idea how glorious live marimba sounds.
I wonder what their image of Guatemala actually was and where they got those pictures in their heads.
“[M]y classmates had no idea how beautiful and resilient the people of Guatemala are.”
In fact, the history of the region has been fraught with much economic and political instability that continues to this day. Families from throughout Central America risk their lives as they caravan through Mexico in the hopes of seeking asylum in the United States of America. In light of starvation, violence, and death, fleeing one’s home becomes the only option.
“Honduras has one of the highest murder rates in Latin America, and the world. Its murder rate is 800 percent higher than that of the United States.”
— Amnesty International
Despite the attempt by some politicians to demonize the caravans as hordes of criminals invading America, these people are refugees fleeing certain death and seeking safety for their families. The last few years have seen the exponential growth of refugees from Honduras, Nicaragua, and Guatemala, in particular.
“Between 2011 and 2016, the number of people from the Northern Triangle who have sought refuge in surrounding countries increased by 2,249 percent…Women, children, and unaccompanied minors make up a large portion of those seeking refuge from the Northern Triangle.
— United Nations Refugee Agency
I would be remiss if I did not mention that the vast majority of families seeking refuge are from indigenous communities that are doubly marginalized within a Latin-American context. Families continue to be separated at the border, and there have been numerous documented deaths at the hands of border patrol. The death of seven-year-old Jakelin Amei Rosemery Caal Maquin from Raxhurá, Guatemala—and many others—is yet another example of human-rights violations occurring on the U.S.A.-Mexico border.
As Central Americans in the U.S. continue to navigate these issues and seek visibility, there are a few points of light.
The creation of resource centers and academic groups focused on Central America continues to grow. The establishment of the hashtags #CentralAmericanTwitter and #CentAmStudies have become critical spaces for Central Americans to connect with each other. Part of this connection involves sharing stories and sharing culture.
Tweets that have recently appeared under the hashtags #CentralAmericanTwitter and #CentAmStudies
One exciting development is the creation of Central American studies. California State University, Northridge has established the first Department of Central American Studies. As part of its mission, the department aims to:
“open spaces of global citizenship and dialogue between academia and society that contribute to the construction of a Central American transnational identity; and to promote an understanding and appreciation of the diverse Central American cultures, ethnicities, experiences, and worldviews from an interdisciplinary global perspective.”
There has also been a surge in community organizations that are fighting for social justice and providing legal support. Established in 1983 by Salvadoran refugees in Los Angeles, CARECEN (Central American Resource Center) offers legal support and resources for newly arrived Central Americans. The recent growth of Central American student organizations at colleges and universities across the United States of America also points to a desire to address the specific needs of a community in diaspora. Although Central American scholars in the U.S.A. have raised many of these pressing issues for years, it feels as though the world is just now starting to pay attention.
In my own experience as a professor, I see the need and importance of Central American representation in academia. I recently had a fellow Guatemalan-American student visit office hours to talk about her upcoming research paper. Before she left my office, the student expressed how much it meant for her to have a Latina—and specifically, a Guatemalan-American—as her theology professor. It was a moving experience for both of us.
As Central Americans in the United States of America continue to seek visibility and a place to call home, my deep hope is that compassion and human dignity may be the driving force.
