Growing up, I was taught that my family of immigrants brought me to the U.S. to work, to labor, to take advantage of this country’s opportunities. This message was often echoed in the news, at church, and in pop culture. I still remember the scene in Selena where Edward James Olmos tells Jennifer Lopez that Mexican-Americans have to be “twice as perfect.”

U.S. culture and history is one that puts productivity, material wealth, and status as the pillars of success, right up there with adopting white supremacist values and vying for proximity to whiteness.

The myth that immigrants came to the U.S. “to do jobs no one else will do” can help us gain some allies, and it’s even won over politicians who might ordinarily vote against our interests. It also makes many of us feel that our labor is the only thing we bring to the table – and that toxic idea is dangerous for our mental health, self-esteem, and general community.

And we often internalize it. I know that for many years, I did. I felt that embracing work would protect me. I never counted on being neurodivergent, wanting to become an artist, or on the systemic obstacles that would get in the way of my ability to secure a high-paying job.

Here’s the thing: immigrants and their descendents do work hard. Many have been able to build successful businesses, careers, nonprofits, and other projects we enjoy every day (like Latina Media Co!).

Butt pop culture often sees us as servile workers instead of people. “Immigrants as essential to the U.S. economy” is a popular talking point from well-intentioned allies. And this pattern that seemingly everyone – including the journalists, filmmakers and politicians who are supposedly on our site – are constantly touting the benefits of our labor, well, that can be draining.

Pop Culture Gets it Wrong

We were just starting to see better depictions of marginalized peoples when multiple major streaming services eliminated many of their Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) programs.

The entertainment industry, including streaming services, have canceled many beloved shows starring BIPOC, LGBTQ+ folks, and starring women in significant roles. I loved shows like This Fool, Cristela, Gentefied, KAOS, Primo, and so many more. Though many characters in these shows are depicted at their place of work, engaging in labor, or facing crises familiar to many immigrants, these shows featured full-fledged characters with intention behind their stories.

Even when not cancelled, our shows get smaller budgets, pay discrepancy creates a hostile work environment, and we know representation could always improve.

A Few Ways We Can Help Ourselves

It would be great to have a cadre of pop culture options that represents us, but we can at least remember that many of our favorite (cancelled) gems are still online and there for us should get nostalgic.

We can also remember that books, art, essays, and poetry are also places where we can feel ourselves be seen. They’re a good place to go for alternative narratives.

But true change can start within us. As immigrants, we might be primed to believe we must labor, especially if we’re women or femme. During times like this, I turn to books such as Raquel Reichard’s Self-Care for Latinas and Tricia Hersey’s Rest is Resistance: A Manifesto. We are entitled to rest, we don’t have to earn it, and we should get serious about practising self-care.

So What Now?

Decoupling our identity from productivity and labor is hard work. Women of all ethnicities and walks of life can especially find it challenging not to constantly anticipate other people’s needs. We’re going to have to tkae moments and hours to cherish our hobbies, connections, relationships, and interests.

Today’s political climate is a scary one and that makes asserting our wholeness more dificult. The rhetoric against immigrants is more focused and much worse during this second Trump administration. But multiple community activists, journalists, advocates, and people directly affected by immigration policy have made it clear that there is hope.

Those of us who are non-Black immigrants must make space at the table for Black immigrants and Black U.S.ians, who also bear the brunt of the racial profiling normalized in immigration raids and anti-immigrant legislation.

It’s key that we educate ourselves on the link between our work culture and slavery and support movements that advocate for a living wage regardless of profession.

And for those of us from any part of Latin America, it behooves us to challenge the norms we inherited from our families about work ethic. We should indeed take pride in doing good work but without making it our sole identity. Let’s be brave and speak up when we can and are able to share mroe about ourselves than how hard we work.

But most importantly, now is a great time to recognize that it’s not our fault if we continue to believe that we’re here to work. The white supremacist myth that our worth is determined by our productivity harms people of all walks of life. We’re inundated with messages that work is the best way for us to earn our place in U.S. society.

There’s no shame in taking our time unlearning this Puritan work ethic, as well as other beliefs about productivity with roots in slavery. Right now is a great time to start chipping away at these harmful myths so we can better support working-class people and their right to care for all parts of their identity. That’s how we escape the trap of equating immigrants worth with our labor and start seeing ourselves as whole, worthy humans.