Pundits failed to recognize the central issue that undercut Kamala Harris’s campaign: immigration. Instead of acknowledging how anti-immigrant sentiment influenced voters, media figures scrambled for explanations but largely ignored immigration’s role in the GOP’s success. The Democratic Party, despite its broad support among Latino and immigrant communities, has not consistently invested in reaching these voters. Cable news networks missed the mark too, lacking Latino analysts with deep ties to the community. These missteps came as immigration remained at the core of Trump’s strategy, centered on fear, racism, and hate—a familiar playbook for those seeking to divide and control.

Trump’s anti-immigrant rhetoric began with his first presidential run in 2015, labeling immigrants as “drug dealers,” “rapists” and “killers.” This narrative falsely cast immigrants as an existential threat, claiming they would corrupt “sacred” American DNA and culture. When Trump and others spread baseless accusations—such as immigrants “eating pets in Ohio” or “taking over” American cities—media and political leaders failed to counter these narratives effectively. Trump’s speeches served as a megaphone for fear, exaggerating the crimes of a few to stoke resentment against millions. The vast majority of immigrants come to the U.S. for work and safety, not crime, yet these distinctions rarely make the headlines.

There’s also a troubling lack of perspective in the media’s coverage. I rarely hear about the thousands of Americans killed annually by mass shootings or domestic violence, or the many Black and Latino people killed by police. Instead, Trump uses isolated crimes committed by undocumented immigrants to incite fear. His approach is part of a multifaceted agenda that preys on racial resentment—a tactic used by dictators worldwide to consolidate power.

Interestingly, not all Latino Americans support increased immigration. Early in my life as a young farmworker, I felt resentment toward Mexican “braceros” who I believed were competing for our jobs. But after living and working across Latin America, I came to understand the root causes of migration, including economic exploitation, political oppression, and climate disasters that displace millions. My work led me to co-found one of Denver’s first organizations supporting undocumented workers in 1975, and later I directed the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project, a leading immigrant legal aid group. Over time, the Latino community has come to see the importance of supporting those seeking refuge and a better life in the U.S., though misunderstandings still persist.

Immigrant contributions extend beyond labor; they provide a crucial lifeline to families and economies abroad. Remittances—funds sent back to support families in countries like Mexico, Guatemala, and El Salvador—reached an astonishing $126 billion across Latin America and the Caribbean in recent years. In some smaller economies, remittances account for over a quarter of the GDP. If mass deportations become reality, the U.S. economy will also suffer: industries from agriculture to hospitality rely heavily on immigrant workers. Meatpacking, construction, healthcare, agriculture—all would face labor shortages that could lead to higher consumer costs. And remittances would plummet, leading to further instability in regions already beset by violence and poverty.

Another fear promoted by the right is the presence of gangs like MS-13. But many Americans don’t realize that MS-13 started in Los Angeles when young Salvadoran immigrants, fleeing the Salvadoran civil war, faced discrimination and violence from local gangs. Their children, ostracized and vulnerable, formed MS-13 out of survival. This tragic cycle of violence, born from failed policies and U.S.-backed wars, highlights the complexity of immigration issues that are too often reduced to sound bites and stereotypes.

Even as immigration debates unfold, our country’s history reveals how internal migration within U.S. borders has often been met with hostility. During the Great Depression, “Okies” migrating to California were treated with disdain. The Great Migration saw Black Americans moving north for work, only to face discrimination in their new communities. West Virginians similarly left their homes to work in Northern steel mills and auto plants, struggling against prejudice as they tried to make a living. The current narrative about immigrants echoes these same cycles of discrimination.

Despite the billions the U.S. spends annually on border control, immigration “solutions” fail to address why people migrate in the first place. Since its creation in 2003, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has spent over $409 billion on immigration enforcement alone, yet people continue risking their lives for a chance at stability. Rather than militarizing the border, the U.S. could invest in economic development in Latin America, helping people thrive without leaving their countries. But instead, Trump’s policies offer only more walls, barriers and threats of deportation.

If we close our doors to asylum seekers and disregard the humanity of those who risk everything to build a better life, we are betraying the very values our country was founded on. Notably, Trump, despite his anti-immigrant rhetoric, was married to two white immigrants himself—an irony lost on many of his supporters.

The stakes are high. History shows that, when communities come together to challenge injustice, they create change. The struggles of the Civil Rights Movement, the labor movement, the fight for marriage equality—all remind us that collective action can reshape society. As we face the challenges posed by today’s anti-immigrant policies, we must continue to advocate for compassion and understanding.

Today, immigrants face increased discrimination and hate crimes, while white immigrants from Canada and Europe often avoid such prejudice. If our country is to truly honor its values, we must reject policies based on fear and division. True solutions come not from building walls, but from building bridges. We must continue to push forward, as Dr. King urged us, by running when we can, walking when we must, and crawling if we have to. The fight for justice and dignity for immigrants is not just their struggle; it is ours.