Over walls and beyond borders: Perceptions and immigrant identities in Los Angeles

On April 30, 1992 the corner of Florence and Normandie Avenues transformed into a center stage showcasing the pitiful state of race relations in Los Angeles and 20th century urban America. Americans peered into a city classically plagued by poverty, racism, and police brutality, usually framed within black/white terms. But underneath the media’s stark contrast between black and white, the Los Angeles riots revealed the rise of a “racialized nativism,” one that is fundamentally anti-immigrant and antiforeign in particular. At this point, racial conflict was not concerned with who was white. It was about who was not black. But immigrant identities, much like race as a social construction, “are shaped by the social conditions and moments that reflect the notions of differences among human groups” (Sánchez). Specifically for recent immigrants in Los Angeles, their collective identity, along with their sense of humanity, has been deprived from them. If anything, this void has been replaced by mere perceptions and generalizations, ultimately molded by the xenophobia that still frames the current social and political climate of this city today.

At the time of the riots, television screens across the country lit up with the heavy blows that Reginald Denny suffered, as he was dragged out of his cab, kicked and spat upon. In this depiction, Denny, a white truck driver, served as the antithesis to the Rodney King beating that also graced the television screens just one year before. But on that same corner where Denny’s assault had occurred, at least 30 other individuals had been dragged from their cars and beaten. Of these cases, a Mexican couple and their one-year-old child were struck with rocks and bottles; a Japanese man, having been mistaken for Korean was stripped and bloodied; and a Guatemalan man, after being knocked unconscious by a car stereo, had motor oil poured down his throat (Sánchez).

In essence, the Los Angeles riots were the epitome of racialized nativism beyond the black/white racial paradigm. And while this nativism extends into the current political and social setting of Los Angeles, its existence in the 1992 uprising still stems from “an intense opposition to an internal minority on the ground of its foreign (ie. “un-American”) connections” (Sánchez). In this racial and political discourse, however, it is important to distinguish nativism from racism. Following John Higham’s model in Strangers in the Land, racism can result in “unfavorable reactions” toward the personal and cultural traits and traditions of others. These reactions, however, are not necessarily nativist until they have been integrated with a “hostile and fearful” character (Higham).

In his article “Face the Nation: Race, Immigration, and the Rise of Nativism in Late Twentieth Century America,” George J. Sánchez contends that this rise of nativism in Los Angeles is directed toward contemporary non-European immigrants, both legal and illegal, in addition to the generations that follow them. But to wholly understand this xenophobia in the context of Los Angeles today, it is obligatory to trace back to the nation’s earlier experiences with immigration. Thus, in “A Sense of Place: The Politics of Immigration and Its Immigrants,” Kevin Keogan compares such experiences in Los Angeles and New York, two opposing spheres of urban immigrant politics. In this assessment, Keogan identifies the early formations of Los Angeles’ nativist traditions. Ultimately, this begins with identity.

Among Irish, Italians, Jews and other European groups immigrating to New York in the later 19th and earlier 20th centuries, a collective struggle for material wealth and acceptance resulted in a common immigrant identity. Represented through salient landmarks such as Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, this identity transitioned over to later immigrants, mostly from Latin America, the Caribbean and Asia. As a result, years of this continuous and changing flow in immigration have fostered an “immigrant origin mythology” within the New York area. Recognized as the foundation of New York City, immigrants here are emboldened by a specific, positive narrative that upholds their historic place in the community. This mythology, therefore, translates into a collective “immigrant as us” identity (Keogan).

Within the past three decades, however, Los Angeles has taken on a “postutopian tone” as a result of large-scale immigration from Asia, Mexico, Central America, the Middle East, the Caribbean, and North Africa. In “California Dreaming: Proposition 187 and the Cultural Psychology of Racial and Ethnic Exclusion,” Marcelo M. Suárez-Orozco points out that the romantic fantasies and bootstrap models from previous centuries no longer resonate as strongly in immigrant discourse. Instead, this influx of non-European immigrants has transformed Los Angeles into the new “third world metropolis,” as stated by James H. Johnson Jr. in “Immigration Reform and the Browning of America: Tensions, Conflicts and Community Instability in Metropolitan Los Angeles.” And within this transformation, the negative connotations run rampant. In a setting where people of color comprise two-thirds of the metropolitan population, anger and anxieties continue to grow.

In this era’s unique xenophobic environment, recent immigrants are racially identifiable, making them “easily categorized by race into the American psyche” (Sánchez). From here, Johnson recognizes this phenomenon as the steady, increasing fear of the “browning of America.” In this fear stirs a growing intolerance, molded by the perception of an open-door immigration policy in which the nation is unable to stem the tide of foreign invaders. As a result, for most newly-arrived groups in Los Angeles, immigrants are more susceptible to being labeled and treated as a “threat” before anything else.

And as always with immigrant discourse, massive numbers games ensue. Largely centered on what can be measured in terms of the costs and benefits of this phenomenon, how much new immigrants use in social services is often evaluated against what these groups “pay” in local, state, and federal taxes (Suárez-Orozco). But with respect to the volatile formation of immigrant identities, numbers are practically insufficient. What is tangible in this explanation of xenophobia culminates in California’s Proposition 187. Within the passing of this initiative – just two years after the riots – Los Angeles once again reinforced its nativist traditions.

Under the name “Save Our State,” this 1994 ballot initiative gained the support of Californians, with a 59%-41% overall margin. Essentially antiforeign, the initiative sought to punish illegal immigrants by denying them access to social services, non-emergency healthcare, and education for the children of illegal immigrants. Additionally, public agencies were required to report suspected illegal immigrants to state and federal authorities (Suárez-Orozco). But aside from the logistics of the initiative, what is even more disturbingly poignant is the language found in the proposition’s description presented to California voters:

Proposition 187 will be the first giant stride in ultimately ending the illegal alien invasion. It has been estimated that illegal aliens are costing taxpayers in excess of 5 billion dollars a year. While our citizens and legal residents go wanting, those who choose to enter our country illegally get royal treatment at the expense of the California taxpayer (State of California).

Thus, with such ferocity, this language encompasses Los Angeles’ xenophobic core.

Historically “defensive in spirit,” this racialized nativism has undoubtedly set the trend for an exclusionary political climate in Los Angeles today (Higham). From a basic antipathy toward non-English languages to the embodiment of xenophobia in California’s Proposition 187, these exclusionary means describe Southern California’s profound sense and fear of the “decline of the American nation” (Sánchez). Moreover, Los Angeles continues to be haunted by what Suárez-Orozco deems a climate of “frustration and malaise.” Immigrants are not just feared and resented, but they are fabricated and fictionalized in front of a larger backdrop in which the greater problems that plague this city are displayed.

Thus, why immigrants face such hostility is more than just a matter of color, racism and fear. Easily dehumanized, recent immigrants become categorized as the “other,” especially when economic hardship and frustrations ensue. This categorization, however, stems from a need by dominant groups to single out recent immigrants. In this new “transnational malaise,” these groups become the focus of powerful anxieties when both the state and city have failed to solve its most pressing domestic issues: poverty, inequality and justice (Suárez-Orozco).

As “domestic aliens,” recent immigrants are identified with the abuse of social services, the refusal to assimilate, and the breeding of crime in the urban landscape (Suárez-Orozco). Panic and hysteria surrounds these already vulnerable groups, making it easier for “native” Angelenos to render them as scapegoats in times of economic stagnation and political instability. Unfortunately in this rendering, a sense of humanity is lost among them.

What many already know is that most immigrants essentially want to be reunited with their families, seeking better work conditions and wages at the same time. But despite this reality, resentment and anger from “native” Angelenos still follows them. As recent immigrants and minorities continue to grow to become the majority in numbers, they are viewed as a social class that is too self-involved and “out-of-touch.” As the economy declines, they are connected to the “disappearance of jobs” and draining of resources. As education standards fall short, they are responsible for an education system that cannot teach. And as crime rates increase, they are viewed as the cause for a justice system that is already broken (Suárez-Orozco).

To surmise immigration and racialized nativism in Los Angeles, Nathan Glazer says it best in that “economics in general can give no large answer to what the immigrant policy of the nation should be.” After all, figures and statistics can only go so far in explaining how people think, feel, and act in respect with one another. Ultimately, it is always easier to take in everything at first glance, especially by seeing in what we believe.

Perception is everything – be it one-sided, conservative, incorrect etc. But when perception plays into identity, especially group identities, much more is at risk here. For recent immigrants in Los Angeles, perceptions centered on hatred, anxiety and panic have robbed them of the immigrant mythology from centuries past. Though a bit romanticized, at least this collective identity was more accepting, fostering, and encouraging than what newer immigrant groups have been confined to today.

Culminating in the 1992 uprising, perceptions of an invading immigrant class enveloped Los Angeles in a climate of fear, frustration, and anger. At the expense of this racialized nativism, 52 lives were lost, 2,383 people were injured, and over $1 billion of damage was done to residences and businesses (Sánchez). Again, 15 years later, Los Angeles finds itself in another tumultuous and tense political environment. From a failing housing market linked to increased gentrification, to the recent May Day riots that epitomized both police brutality and police distrust, Los Angeles is still plagued by a xenophobic character from which it can’t seem to shake free.

According to Suárez-Orozco, I guess the better question to ask now is if “We can’t deal with ourselves; how are we to deal with others?” But at the very least, in order to better understand – if not “solve” – the larger issue of immigration, it may be more beneficial to look inward as opposed to outward. After all, perceptions and identities from all sides can be misleading.

Works Cited

Higham, John. “Instead Of a Sequel, or How I Lost My Subject Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism, 1860-1925.” Reviews in American History. 28.2. (2000): pp. 327-339.
http://zb5lh7ed7a.search.serialssolutions.com/?sid=jstor:jstor&genre=article&issn=0048-7511&eissn=1080-6628&volume=28&pages=327-339&spage=327&epage=339&atitle=Instead%20Of%20a%20Sequel%2c%20or%20How%20I%20Lost%20My%20Subject&date=2000-06&aulast=Higham&issue=2

Johnson, Jr., James H., Walter C. Farell, and Chandra Guinn. “Immigration Reform and the Browning of America: Tensions, Conflicts and Community Instability in Metropolitan Los Angeles.” International Migration Review. 31.4. (1997): pp. 1055-1095. <http://www.jstor.org/view/01979183/di009796/00p0315c/0>

Keogan, Kevin. A Sense of Place: The Politics of Immigration and the Symbolic Construction of Identity in Southern California and the New York Metropolitan Area.” Sociological Forum. 17.2 (2002): pp. 223-253. <http://www.jstor.org/view/08848971/sp030001/03x0005e/0>

Sánchez, George J. “Face the Nation: Race, Immigration, and the Rise of Nativism in Late Twentieth Century America.” International Migration Review Special Issue: Immigrant Adaptation and Native-Born Responses in the Making of Americans. 31.4 (1997): 1009-1030. <http://www.jstor.org/view/01979183/di009796/00p0313a/0>

Suárez-Orozco, Marcelo M. “California Dreaming: Proposition 187 and the Cultural Psychology of Racial and Ethnic Exclusion.” Anthropology & Education Quarterly. 27.2 (1996): pp. 151-167. <http://www.jstor.org/view/01617761/sp050101/04x0225q/0>