"Latino America", Newsweek 7-12-99

Newsweek
July 12, 1999

Latino America

Author: Brook Larmer
With Veronica Chambers, Ana Figueroa, Pat Wingert and Julie Weingarten

Edition: U.S. EDITION
Section: Society
Page: 48

Article Text:

Strolling along northwest eighth Street in Miami--a.k.a. Calle Ocho--is like taking a trip through another country. But last week the sights and sounds of Calle Ocho were both intensely foreign and undeniably American. A crowd of angry Cuban exiles marched down the street denouncing the U.S. Coast Guard's use of force to round up six Cuban refugees near a local beach the day before. From the sidelines, other Latinos looked on: prim Honduran clerks at an evangelical bookstore, spiffed-up businessmen at an Argentine steakhouse, sweaty construction workers eating Salvadoran pupusas. Merengue music blasted indifferently from the Do-Re-Mi music shop. But the elderly Cubans playing dominoes in Maximo Gomez Park stood and joined in with the protesters: "Libertad! Libertad!"

Could this be the face of America's future? Better believe it. No place in the United States is quite so international as Miami; even the Latinos who run the city joke that they like it "because it's so close to America." But Miami, like New York and Los Angeles, is ground zero for a demographic upheaval that is unfolding across America. Like the arrival of European immigrants at the turn of the century, the tide of Hispanic immigrants--and the fast growth of Latino families--has injected a new energy into the nation's cities.

Latinos are changing the way the country looks, feels and thinks, eats, dances and votes. From teeming immigrant meccas to small-town America, they are filling churches, building businesses and celebrating their Latin heritage. In a special NEWSWEEK Poll of Latinos, 83 percent said being Hispanic was important to their identity. They are overwhelmingly Roman Catholic; 42 percent go to church once a week. They've become a potent, increasingly unpredictable political force: 37 percent of 18- to 34-year-old Latinos say they are independent, about twice as many as their Hispanic elders. In America, a country that constantly redefines itself, the rise of Latinos also raises questions about race, identity and culture--and whether the United States will ever truly be one nation.

The numbers couldn't be clearer. Fueled by massive (and mostly legal) immigration and high birthrates, the Latino population has grown 38 percent since 1990--to 31 million--while the overall population has grown just 9 percent. And with more than a third of the Latino population still under 18, the boom is just beginning. By the year 2005, Latinos are projected to be the largest minority in the country, passing non-Hispanic blacks for the first time. By 2050, nearly one quarter of the population will be Latino. "The [African-American] civil-rights slogan was 'We shall overcome'," says Christy Haubegger, the 30-year-old founding editor of the bilingual magazine Latina. "Ours is going to be 'We shall overwhelm'."

They may just have the muscle to back that up--particularly in politics. Though they accounted for only 6 percent of those who voted in the 1998 midterm elections, Hispanics are clustered in 11 key states, with a total of 217 out of the 270 Electoral College votes needed for the presidency. And neither party has a lock on this new force. "Latinos are the soccer moms of the year 2000," says Gregory Rodriguez of the New America Foundation. Is it any wonder that Al Gore and George W. Bush were both on campaign stops in Florida and California last week, eagerly greeting voters in Spanish?

The driving force behind the Latino wave are members of a cohort that is sometimes called Generation N; [por las proyecciones demográficas]. These young Hispanics--the Latin Gen X--are influential not simply because of their huge numbers. They are making their mark--and making all things Latin suddenly seem cool. Jose Canseco, a 35-year-old Cuban-American, and Dominican-born Sammy Sosa, 30, lead the great American home-run derby. Ricky Martin, 27, and Jennifer Lopez, 28, top the pop-music charts. Actors Benjamin Bratt, 35, and Salma Hayek, 30, are quickening the national pulse.

Is the rest of America ready? Hip Anglos on both coasts are dancing salsa, learning Spanish and dabbling in Nuevo Latino cuisine. And every fifth grader seems to know the lyrics of "Livin' La Vida Loca." But many Latinos doubt whether America can easily move past the stereotypes that depict them as illegals, gangbangers or entertainers. "Don't try to understand Latinos through [Ricky Martin]," says Manuel Magana, 21, a University of Michigan senior. "It's like trying to figure out Americans by listening to the Backstreet Boys."

Latinos can't be neatly pigeonholed. They come from 22 different countries of origin, including every hybrid possible. Many are white, some are black, but most are somewhere in between. Some Latino families have been in the United States for centuries, since the days when much of the Southwest was still a part of Mexico. Others, like the six Cuban refugees, swam ashore last week. (The Coast Guard freed them a day later.) Many Latinos are assimilating into cycles of urban blight; 40 percent of Latino children now live in poverty, the highest rate ever. But millions of Hispanics are also moving into the middle class, speaking English, inter-marrying and spending cash--lots of it. U.S. Latinos pump $300 billion a year into the economy.

Not everybody has been eager to give Latinos a big abrazo. When California voters passed propositions limiting immigrant rights and Washington tightened federal immigration policy in the mid-1990s, Latinos took it as a call to arms. The best weapons of defense were citizenship and the vote. Between 1994 and 1998, Latino voting in nationwide midterm elections jumped 27 percent even as overall voter turnout dropped 13 percent. The 2000 presidential election may show even more dramatic increases: Latino leaders aim to register an additional 3 million voters by then.

Latinos have long leaned Democratic (Clinton got 72 percent), but their vote is alluring these days precisely because it is up for grabs--and Generation N; seems intent on keeping it that way. Gore edged out Bush among all Latinos polled, 29 percent to 28 percent, but Generation N; voters favored Bush by a margin of 9 percent. Nobody understands how Latinos can swing an election more than Nevada Sen. Harry Reid, a Democrat. During his tight 1998 race, Reid's friend, boxing promoter Bob Arum, persuaded Oscar De La Hoya to join the campaign. The charismatic boxer did two fund-raisers, a public rally and several Spanish media spots. "He's the reason I'm in the Senate now," says Reid. Don't believe him? The senator won by just 428 votes.

Latinos are flattered to be considered hot commodities, whether as voters, consumers, employees or entertainers. But their aspirations, and their importance to American society, run much deeper than mere social acceptance. They are not "crossing over" into mainstream America; they are already here, getting more influential by the day, so the rest of America must learn to adapt as well. "Something tremendous is happening," says 30-year-old novelist Ixta Maya Murray. "This generation of Latinos is going to change the way America looks at itself." On the last Independence Day of the millennium, a new nation is being born.