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The Arrival of Italian Immigrants into the U.S

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The Arrival of Italian Immigrants into the U.S

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Italian - The Great Arrival - Immigration...- Classroom Presentation | Teacher Resources - Library of Congress

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Most of this generation of Italian immigrants took their first steps on U.S. soil in a place that has now become a legend-Ellis Island. In the 1880s, they numbered 300,000; in the 1890s, 600,000; in the decade after that, more than two million.

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http://katieglewis.weebly.com/the-harlem-renaissance-and-immigrants.html

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One August morning nearly two decades ago, my mother woke me and put me in a cab. She handed me a jacket. " Baka malamig doon" were among the few words she said. ("It might be cold there.") When I arrived at the Philippines ' Ninoy Aquino International Airport with her, my aunt and a family friend, I was introduced to a man I'd never seen. They told me he was my uncle. He held my hand as I boarded an airplane for the first time. It was 1993, and I was 12.

My mother wanted to give me a better life, so she sent me thousands of miles away to live with her parents in America - my grandfather ( Lolo in Tagalog) and grandmother (). After I arrived in Mountain View, Calif., in the San Francisco Bay Area, I entered sixth grade and quickly grew to love my new home, family and culture. I discovered a passion for language, though it was hard to learn the difference between formal English and American slang. One of my early memories is of a freckled kid in middle school asking me, "What's up?" I replied, "The sky," and he and a couple of other kids laughed. I won the eighth-grade spelling bee by memorizing words I couldn't properly pronounce. (The winning word was "indefatigable.")

One day when I was 16, I rode my bike to the nearby D.M.V. office to get my driver's permit. Some of my friends already had their licenses, so I figured it was time. But when I handed the clerk my green card as proof of U.S. residency, she flipped it around, examining it. "This is fake," she whispered. "Don't come back here again."

Confused and scared, I pedaled home and confronted Lolo. I remember him sitting in the garage, cutting coupons. I dropped my bike and ran over to him, showing him the green card. " Peke ba ito?" I asked in Tagalog. ("Is this fake?") My grandparents were naturalized American citizens - he worked as a security guard, she as a food server - and they had begun supporting my mother and me financially when I was 3, after my father's wandering eye and inability to properly provide for us led to my parents' separation. Lolo was a proud man, and I saw the shame on his face as he told me he purchased the card, along with other fake documents, for me. "Don't show it to other people," he warned.

I decided then that I could never give anyone reason to doubt I was an American. I convinced myself that if I worked enough, if I achieved enough, I would be rewarded with citizenship. I felt I could earn it.

I've tried. Over the past 14 years, I've graduated from high school and college and built a career as a journalist, interviewing some of the most famous people in the country. On the surface, I've created a good life. I've lived the American dream.

But I am still an undocumented immigrant. And that means living a different kind of reality. It means going about my day in fear of being found out. It means rarely trusting people, even those closest to me, with who I really am. It means keeping my family photos in a shoebox rather than displaying them on shelves in my home, so friends don't ask about them. It means reluctantly, even painfully, doing things I know are wrong and unlawful. And it has meant relying on a sort of 21st-century underground railroad of supporters, people who took an interest in my future and took risks for me.

Last year I read about four students who walked from Miami to Washington to lobby for the Dream Act, a nearly decade-old immigration bill that would provide a path to legal permanent residency for young people who have been educated in this country. At the risk of deportation - the Obama administration has deported almost 800,000 people in the last two years - they are speaking out. Their courage has inspired me.

There are believed to be 11 million undocumented immigrants in the United States. We're not always who you think we are. Some pick your strawberries or care for your children. Some are in high school or college. And some, it turns out, write news articles you might read. I grew up here. This is my home. Yet even though I think of myself as an American and consider America my country, my country doesn't think of me as one of its own.

My first challenge was the language. Though I learned English in the Philippines, I wanted to lose my accent. During high school, I spent hours at a time watching television (especially "Frasier," "Home Improvement" and reruns of "The Golden Girls") and movies (from " Goodfellas" to " Anne of Green Gables "), pausing the VHS to try to copy how various characters enunciated their words. At the local library, I read magazines, books and newspapers - anything to learn how to write better. Kathy Dewar, my high-school English teacher, introduced me to journalism. From the moment I wrote my first article for the student paper, I convinced myself that having my name in print - writing in English, interviewing Americans - validated my presence here.

The debates over "illegal aliens" intensified my anxieties. In 1994, only a year after my flight from the Philippines, Gov. Pete Wilson was re-elected in part because of his support for Proposition 187, which prohibited undocumented immigrants from attending public school and accessing other services. (A federal court later found the law unconstitutional.) After my encounter at the D.M.V. in 1997, I grew more aware of anti-immigrant sentiments and stereotypes: they don't want to assimilate, they are a drain on society. They're not talking about me, I would tell myself. I have something to contribute.

To do that, I had to work - and for that, I needed a Social Security number. Fortunately, my grandfather had already managed to get one for me. Lolo had always taken care of everyone in the family. He and my grandmother emigrated legally in 1984 from Zambales, a province in the Philippines of rice fields and bamboo houses, following Lolo's sister, who married a Filipino-American serving in the American military. She petitioned for her brother and his wife to join her. When they got here, Lolo petitioned for his two children - my mother and her younger brother - to follow them. But instead of mentioning that my mother was a married woman, he listed her as single. Legal residents can't petition for their married children. Besides, Lolo didn't care for my father. He didn't want him coming here too.

But soon Lolo grew nervous that the immigration authorities reviewing the petition would discover my mother was married, thus derailing not only her chances of coming here but those of my uncle as well. So he withdrew her petition. After my uncle came to America legally in 1991, Lolo tried to get my mother here through a tourist visa, but she wasn't able to obtain one. That's when she decided to send me. My mother told me later that she figured she would follow me soon. She never did.

The "uncle" who brought me here turned out to be a coyote, not a relative, my grandfather later explained. Lolo scraped together enough money - I eventually learned it was $4,500, a huge sum for him - to pay him to smuggle me here under a fake name and fake passport. (I never saw the passport again after the flight and have always assumed that the coyote kept it.) After I arrived in America, Lolo obtained a new fake Filipino passport, in my real name this time, adorned with a fake student visa, in addition to the fraudulent green card.

Using the fake passport, we went to the local Social Security Administration office and applied for a Social Security number and card. It was, I remember, a quick visit. When the card came in the mail, it had my full, real name, but it also clearly stated: "Valid for work only with I.N.S. authorization."

When I began looking for work, a short time after the D.M.V. incident, my grandfather and I took the Social Security card to Kinko's, where he covered the "I.N.S. authorization" text with a sliver of white tape. We then made photocopies of the card. At a glance, at least, the copies would look like copies of a regular, unrestricted Social Security card.

Lolo always imagined I would work the kind of low-paying jobs that undocumented people often take. (Once I married an American, he said, I would get my real papers, and everything would be fine.) But even menial jobs require documents, so he and I hoped the doctored card would work for now. The more documents I had, he said, the better.

While in high school, I worked part time at Subway, then at the front desk of the local Y.M.C.A., then at a tennis club, until I landed an unpaid internship at The Mountain View Voice, my hometown newspaper. First I brought coffee and helped around the office; eventually I began covering city-hall meetings and other assignments for pay.

For more than a decade of getting part-time and full-time jobs, employers have rarely asked to check my original Social Security card. When they did, I showed the photocopied version, which they accepted. Over time, I also began checking the citizenship box on my federal I-9 employment eligibility forms. (Claiming full citizenship was actually easier than declaring permanent resident "green card" status, which would have required me to provide an alien registration number.)

This deceit never got easier. The more I did it, the more I felt like an impostor, the more guilt I carried - and the more I worried that I would get caught. But I kept doing it. I needed to live and survive on my own, and I decided this was the way.

Mountain View High School became my second home. I was elected to represent my school at school-board meetings, which gave me the chance to meet and befriend Rich Fischer, the superintendent for our school district. I joined the speech and debate team, acted in school plays and eventually became co-editor of The Oracle, the student newspaper. That drew the attention of my principal, Pat Hyland. "You're at school just as much as I am," she told me. Pat and Rich would soon become mentors, and over time, almost surrogate parents for me.

After a choir rehearsal during my junior year, Jill Denny, the choir director, told me she was considering a Japan trip for our singing group. I told her I couldn't afford it, but she said we'd figure out a way. I hesitated, and then decided to tell her the truth. "It's not really the money," I remember saying. "I don't have the right passport." When she assured me we'd get the proper documents, I finally told her. "I can't get the right passport," I said. "I'm not supposed to be here."

She understood. So the choir toured Hawaii instead, with me in tow. (Mrs. Denny and I spoke a couple of months ago, and she told me she hadn't wanted to leave any student behind.)

Later that school year, my history class watched a documentary on Harvey Milk, the openly gay San Francisco city official who was assassinated. This was 1999, just six months after Matthew Shepard's body was found tied to a fence in Wyoming. During the discussion, I raised my hand and said something like: "I'm sorry Harvey Milk got killed for being gay. . . . I've been meaning to say this. . . . I'm gay."

I hadn't planned on coming out that morning, though I had known that I was gay for several years. With that announcement, I became the only openly gay student at school, and it caused turmoil with my grandparents. Lolo kicked me out of the house for a few weeks. Though we eventually reconciled, I had disappointed him on two fronts. First, as a Catholic, he considered homosexuality a sin and was embarrassed about having " ang apo na bakla " ("a grandson who is gay"). Even worse, I was making matters more difficult for myself, he said. I needed to marry an American woman in order to gain a green card.

Tough as it was, coming out about being gay seemed less daunting than coming out about my legal status. I kept my other secret mostly hidden.

While my classmates awaited their college acceptance letters, I hoped to get a full-time job at The Mountain View Voice after graduation. It's not that I didn't want to go to college, but I couldn't apply for state and federal financial aid. Without that, my family couldn't afford to send me.

But when I finally told Pat and Rich about my immigration "problem" - as we called it from then on - they helped me look for a solution. At first, they even wondered if one of them could adopt me and fix the situation that way, but a lawyer Rich consulted told him it wouldn't change my legal status because I was too old. Eventually they connected me to a new scholarship fund for high-potential students who were usually the first in their families to attend college. Most important, the fund was not concerned with immigration status. I was among the first recipients, with the scholarship covering tuition, lodging, books and other expenses for my studies at San Francisco State University.

As a college freshman, I found a job working part time at The San Francisco Chronicle, where I sorted mail and wrote some freelance articles. My ambition was to get a reporting job, so I embarked on a series of internships. First I landed at The Philadelphia Daily News, in the summer of 2001, where I covered a drive-by shooting and the wedding of the 76ers star Allen Iverson. Using those articles, I applied to The Seattle Times and got an internship for the following summer.

But then my lack of proper documents became a problem again. The Times's recruiter, Pat Foote, asked all incoming interns to bring certain paperwork on their first day: a birth certificate, or a passport, or a driver's license plus an original Social Security card. I panicked, thinking my documents wouldn't pass muster. So before starting the job, I called Pat and told her about my legal status. After consulting with management, she called me back with the answer I feared: I couldn't do the internship.

This was devastating. What good was college if I couldn't then pursue the career I wanted? I decided then that if I was to succeed in a profession that is all about truth-telling, I couldn't tell the truth about myself.

After this episode, Jim Strand, the venture capitalist who sponsored my scholarship, offered to pay for an immigration lawyer. Rich and I went to meet her in San Francisco's financial district.

I was hopeful. This was in early 2002, shortly after Senators Orrin Hatch, the Utah Republican, and Dick Durbin, the Illinois Democrat, introduced the Dream Act - Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors. It seemed like the legislative version of what I'd told myself: If I work hard and contribute, things will work out.

But the meeting left me crushed. My only solution, the lawyer said, was to go back to the Philippines and accept a 10-year ban before I could apply to return legally.

If Rich was discouraged, he hid it well. "Put this problem on a shelf," he told me. "Compartmentalize it. Keep going."

And I did. For the summer of 2003, I applied for internships across the country. Several newspapers, including The Wall Street Journal, The Boston Globe and The Chicago Tribune, expressed interest. But when The Washington Post offered me a spot, I knew where I would go. And this time, I had no intention of acknowledging my "problem."

The Post internship posed a tricky obstacle: It required a driver's license. (After my close call at the California D.M.V., I'd never gotten one.) So I spent an afternoon at The Mountain View Public Library, studying various states' requirements. Oregon was among the most welcoming - and it was just a few hours' drive north.

Again, my support network came through. A friend's father lived in Portland, and he allowed me to use his address as proof of residency. Pat, Rich and Rich's longtime assistant, Mary Moore, sent letters to me at that address. Rich taught me how to do three-point turns in a parking lot, and a friend accompanied me to Portland.

The license meant everything to me - it would let me drive, fly and work. But my grandparents worried about the Portland trip and the Washington internship. While Lola offered daily prayers so that I would not get caught, Lolo told me that I was dreaming too big, risking too much.

I was determined to pursue my ambitions. I was 22, I told them, responsible for my own actions. But this was different from Lolo's driving a confused teenager to Kinko's. I knew what I was doing now, and I knew it wasn't right. But what was I supposed to do?

I was paying state and federal taxes, but I was using an invalid Social Security card and writing false information on my employment forms. But that seemed better than depending on my grandparents or on Pat, Rich and Jim - or returning to a country I barely remembered. I convinced myself all would be O.K. if I lived up to the qualities of a "citizen": hard work, self-reliance, love of my country.

At the D.M.V. in Portland, I arrived with my photocopied Social Security card, my college I.D., a pay stub from The San Francisco Chronicle and my proof of state residence - the letters to the Portland address that my support network had sent. It worked. My license, issued in 2003, was set to expire eight years later, on my 30th birthday, on Feb. 3, 2011. I had eight years to succeed professionally, and to hope that some sort of immigration reform would pass in the meantime and allow me to stay.

It seemed like all the time in the world.

My summer in Washington was exhilarating. I was intimidated to be in a major newsroom but was assigned a mentor - Peter Perl, a veteran magazine writer - to help me navigate it. A few weeks into the internship, he printed out one of my articles, about a guy who recovered a long-lost wallet, circled the first two paragraphs and left it on my desk. "Great eye for details - awesome!" he wrote. Though I didn't know it then, Peter would become one more member of my network.

At the end of the summer, I returned to The San Francisco Chronicle. My plan was to finish school - I was now a senior - while I worked for The Chronicle as a reporter for the city desk. But when The Post beckoned again, offering me a full-time, two-year paid internship that I could start when I graduated in June 2004, it was too tempting to pass up. I moved back to Washington.

About four months into my job as a reporter for The Post, I began feeling increasingly paranoid, as if I had "illegal immigrant" tattooed on my forehead - and in Washington, of all places, where the debates over immigration seemed never-ending. I was so eager to prove myself that I feared I was annoying some colleagues and editors - and worried that any one of these professional journalists could discover my secret. The anxiety was nearly paralyzing. I decided I had to tell one of the higher-ups about my situation. I turned to Peter.

By this time, Peter, who still works at The Post, had become part of management as the paper's director of newsroom training and professional development. One afternoon in late October, we walked a couple of blocks to Lafayette Square, across from the White House. Over some 20 minutes, sitting on a bench, I told him everything: the Social Security card, the driver's license, Pat and Rich, my family.

Peter was shocked. "I understand you 100 times better now," he said. He told me that I had done the right thing by telling him, and that it was now our shared problem. He said he didn't want to do anything about it just yet. I had just been hired, he said, and I needed to prove myself. "When you've done enough," he said, "we'll tell Don and Len together." (Don Graham is the chairman of The Washington Post Company; Leonard Downie Jr. was then the paper's executive editor.) A month later, I spent my first Thanksgiving in Washington with Peter and his family.

In the five years that followed, I did my best to "do enough." I was promoted to staff writer, reported on video-game culture, wrote a series on Washington's H.I.V./AIDS epidemic and covered the role of technology and social media in the 2008 presidential race. I visited the White House, where I interviewed senior aides and covered a state dinner - and gave the Secret Service the Social Security number I obtained with false documents.

I did my best to steer clear of reporting on immigration policy but couldn't always avoid it. On two occasions, I wrote about Hillary Clinton's position on driver's licenses for undocumented immigrants. I also wrote an article about Senator Mel Martinez of Florida, then the chairman of the Republican National Committee, who was defending his party's stance toward Latinos after only one Republican presidential candidate - John McCain, the co-author of a failed immigration bill - agreed to participate in a debate sponsored by Univision, the Spanish-language network.

It was an odd sort of dance: I was trying to stand out in a highly competitive newsroom, yet I was terrified that if I stood out too much, I'd invite unwanted scrutiny. I tried to compartmentalize my fears, distract myself by reporting on the lives of other people, but there was no escaping the central conflict in my life. Maintaining a deception for so long distorts your sense of self. You start wondering who you've become, and why.

In April 2008, I was part of a Post team that won a Pulitzer Prize for the paper's coverage of the Virginia Tech shootings a year earlier. Lolo died a year earlier, so it was Lola who called me the day of the announcement. The first thing she said was, " Anong mangyayari kung malaman ng mga tao?"

What will happen if people find out?

I couldn't say anything. After we got off the phone, I rushed to the bathroom on the fourth floor of the newsroom, sat down on the toilet and cried.

In the summer of 2009, without ever having had that follow-up talk with top Post management, I left the paper and moved to New York to join The Huffington Post. I met Arianna Huffington at a Washington Press Club Foundation dinner I was covering for The Post two years earlier, and she later recruited me to join her news site. I wanted to learn more about Web publishing, and I thought the new job would provide a useful education.

Still, I was apprehensive about the move: many companies were already using E-Verify, a program set up by the Department of Homeland Security that checks if prospective employees are eligible to work, and I didn't know if my new employer was among them. But I'd been able to get jobs in other newsrooms, I figured, so I filled out the paperwork as usual and succeeded in landing on the payroll.

While I worked at The Huffington Post, other opportunities emerged. My H.I.V./AIDS series became a documentary film called "The Other City," which opened at the Tribeca Film Festival last year and was broadcast on Showtime. I began writing for magazines and landed a dream assignment: profiling Facebook's Mark Zuckerberg for The New Yorker.

The more I achieved, the more scared and depressed I became. I was proud of my work, but there was always a cloud hanging over it, over me. My old eight-year deadline - the expiration of my Oregon driver's license - was approaching.

After slightly less than a year, I decided to leave The Huffington Post. In part, this was because I wanted to promote the documentary and write a book about online culture - or so I told my friends. But the real reason was, after so many years of trying to be a part of the system, of focusing all my energy on my professional life, I learned that no amount of professional success would solve my problem or ease the sense of loss and displacement I felt. I lied to a friend about why I couldn't take a weekend trip to Mexico. Another time I concocted an excuse for why I couldn't go on an all-expenses-paid trip to Switzerland. I have been unwilling, for years, to be in a long-term relationship because I never wanted anyone to get too close and ask too many questions. All the while, Lola's question was stuck in my head: What will happen if people find out?

Early this year, just two weeks before my 30th birthday, I won a small reprieve: I obtained a driver's license in the state of Washington. The license is valid until 2016. This offered me five more years of acceptable identification - but also five more years of fear, of lying to people I respect and institutions that trusted me, of running away from who I am.

I'm done running. I'm exhausted. I don't want that life anymore.

So I've decided to come forward, own up to what I've done, and tell my story to the best of my recollection. I've reached out to former bosses and employers and apologized for misleading them - a mix of humiliation and liberation coming with each disclosure. All the people mentioned in this article gave me permission to use their names. I've also talked to family and friends about my situation and am working with legal counsel to review my options. I don't know what the consequences will be of telling my story.

I do know that I am grateful to my grandparents, my Lolo and Lola, for giving me the chance for a better life. I'm also grateful to my other family - the support network I found here in America - for encouraging me to pursue my dreams.

It's been almost 18 years since I've seen my mother. Early on, I was mad at her for putting me in this position, and then mad at myself for being angry and ungrateful. By the time I got to college, we rarely spoke by phone. It became too painful; after a while it was easier to just send money to help support her and my two half-siblings. My sister, almost 2 years old when I left, is almost 20 now. I've never met my 14-year-old brother. I would love to see them.

Not long ago, I called my mother. I wanted to fill the gaps in my memory about that August morning so many years ago. We had never discussed it. Part of me wanted to shove the memory aside, but to write this article and face the facts of my life, I needed more details. Did I cry? Did she? Did we kiss goodbye?

My mother told me I was excited about meeting a stewardess, about getting on a plane. She also reminded me of the one piece of advice she gave me for blending in: If anyone asked why I was coming to America, I should say I was going to Disneyland.

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One August morning nearly two decades ago, my mother woke me and put me in a cab. She handed me a jacket. " Baka malamig doon" were among the few words she said. ("It might be cold there.") When I arrived at the Philippines ' Ninoy Aquino International Airport with her, my aunt and a family friend, I was introduced to a man I'd never seen.

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The transcontinental railroad relied heavily on Chinese immigrant labor.

In the late 1800s, thousands of Chinese immigrants arrived in the United States. Attracted by opportunities related to the California Gold Rush, the construction of the transcontinental railroad and abundant agricultural jobs, the Chinese came seeking economic opportunity. In the process, however, the Chinese faced discrimination and legal restrictions, such as the infamous Chinese Exclusion Act.

Gold Rush Discrimination

The first wave of Chinese immigrants arrived in the United States in the late 1840s, and remained throughout the 1850s for the California Gold Rush. The first Chinese ship to arrive in San Francisco came in 1848, but initial immigration was slow. In 1851, for example, only 2,716 immigrants arrived. After a crop failure in southern China brought famine, 20,026 Chinese immigrated to San Francisco in 1852. Many headed to nearby gold mines for work, where they often faced discrimination. Despite making up 20 percent of San Francisco's population by the end of the 1850s, the Chinese were routinely robbed at the mines, and faced a $3 Foreign Miners Tax that was specifically designed for the Chinese.

Transcontinental Railroad

The construction of the transcontinental railroad in the 1860s was completed primarily by immigrant labor, many of whom were Chinese. The Chinese worked mainly on the Central Pacific half of the line, and their contribution was significant. At the height of construction in 1868, for example, Chinese immigrants made up 80 percent of the Central Pacific's workforce. They faced significant discrimination, such as a ban on holding citizenship in California. In addition, the Chinese were paid only $27 a month, while their Irish immigrant counterparts earned $35 for the same work.

1870s Discrimination

In the 1870s, Chinese immigrants were an established presence in many parts of California, but discrimination and hardship only worsened. The 1870s were a time of high unemployment and economic depression, and this contributed to resentment between races. Many whites also began to perceive the Chinese as criminals, partly because of a rise in the number of Chinese prostitutes. This resulted in a series of laws restricting immigration, such as the Page Law of 1875 that forbade immigration from Asia for "lewd and immoral purposes."

Chinese Exclusion Act

By the 1880s, restrictive laws such as the Page Law were considered insufficient, and many Americans wanted to ban Chinese immigration altogether. The 1868 Burlingame-Seward Treaty between the United States and China, however, forbade the United States from banning Chinese immigrants. This was overturned in 1880 with the signing of the 1880 Angell Treaty. With diplomatic restrictions lifted, Congress was able to pass the Chinese Exclusion Act in 1882, which banned all Chinese immigration for a 10-year period. Restrictions only increased thereafter, with laws such as the Scott Act, which banned legal Chinese-American residents from re-entering the United States after a visit to China.

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Difficulties Chinese Immigrants Had in the Late 1800s | Synonym

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The transcontinental railroad relied heavily on Chinese immigrant labor. In the late 1800s, thousands of Chinese immigrants arrived in the United States. Attracted by opportunities related to the California Gold Rush, the construction of the transcontinental railroad and abundant agricultural jobs, the Chinese came seeking economic opportunity.

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Undocumented Immigrants Working in Low Level Jobs

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Undocumented Immigrants Working in Low Level Jobs

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Undocumented immigrants hold more white-collar jobs and fewer blue-collar jobs today than they did before the national recession of 2007-2009, but most remain concentrated in lower-skilled, low-paying jobs, "much more so than U.S.-born workers," according to a report released Thursday by the Pew Research Center in the District.

The report, based on a five-year study from 2007 to 2012, found that the size of the illegal immigrant workforce has remained at 5.1 percent of all workers, even though the total number of illegal immigrants has fallen from a peak of 12.2 million in 2007 to about 11.2 million in 2012.

Overall, it described an undocumented workforce that has stabilized during a period of economic recovery and has moved up in certain semi-skilled and professional occupations, but that has remained limited by language barriers, poor education and legal status and clustered in low-level occupations.

The senior demographer for Pew, Jeffrey Passel, presented the report's findings at a Senate hearing Thursday. He stressed that as the illegal population has fallen, its remaining workers have settled into the U.S. and their job prospects have shifted mostly in response to national economic trends.

"These are people who are embedded and participating in the economy," Passel said after the hearing. "More than 60 percent have been here at least ten years. The changes we see in what they are doing and where they work reflect broader trends."

Although the majority of illegal immigrants are from Mexico, the report noted that in the Washington region, the largest number are from Central America. In Virginia, Maryland and the District, they are employed mainly in service jobs in hotels, restaurants, buildings and grounds, and private homes.

Nationwide, Pew reported, the portion of unauthorized workers in professional or business jobs - including sales and office support - grew from 10 to 13 percent, while the portion in production and construction declined from 34 to 29 percent. As in the past, though, it said "a solid majority" still toil at low-wage jobs including farm labor.

[Judge's ruling derails plans of immigrants seeking legal status]

Critics of illegal immigration complain that undocumented workers squeeze out American-born workers by undercutting wages. The Pew report did not address that issue, but it found that far higher percentages of illegal immigrants than U.S.-born workers now hold jobs with the least desirable conditions, such as crop picking and animal slaughter.

Sen. Thomas Carper (D-Del), the ranking Democrat at Thursday's hearing, said that U.S. officials "need to get serious about enforcing laws against the hiring of undocumented immigrants," but that the government must also "provide adequate ways for immigrants to work here legally when we do need help."

In certain occupations, the contrast between undocumented and U.S.-born immigrants is especially dramatic. Only 0.5 percent of U.S-born workers are employed in farming, fishing or forestry, while 4 percent of unauthorized aliens work in those fields,

Although the portion of illegal immigrants in professional jobs remains low, the report noted that, under several policies enacted or proposed by the White House, a substantial number are obtaining temporary legal status, giving them access to better education and professional jobs.

The work performed by illegal immigrants varies among states, the report found. In 39 states and the District, the largest number work in service jobs, but in 34 states, they hold the largest share of all farming, fishing and forestry jobs.

Nationwide, unauthorized immigrants are clustered in a few occupations, notably farming, fishing and forestry (26 percent of the workforce), building and grounds (17 percent), and construction and mining (14 percent). They comprise 24 percent of all groundskeepers, 23 percent of domestic workers and 20 percent of those in clothing manufacture.

In addition, they have carved out niches in certain relatively well-paid construction trades. They hold 34 percent of all jobs in drywall installation, 27 percent in roofing and 24 percent in painting. Passel also noted that many illegal immigrants who overstayed temporary visas have higher education levels that enable them to work in office or technical jobs.

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Majority of undocumented immigrants work in low-skill jobs, report finds

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Undocumented immigrants hold more white-collar jobs and fewer blue-collar jobs today than they did before the national recession of 2007-2009, but most remain concentrated in lower-skilled, low-paying jobs, "much more so than U.S.-born workers," according to a report released Thursday by the Pew Research Center in the District.

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Is superman an immigrant?

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Spoken: It's a bird. It's a plane. No, it's a wetback. Sung: He came by air, but not by plane He came in his ship all the way from Krypton and it seems he's not an American. Rather, he is just like me, undocumented.

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Population
Crossings
Border Enforcement
Economy
Population
About 11.8 million people live in the U.S.-Mexico border area. Approximately one-quarter of the population in the U.S. counties bordering Mexico live at or below the poverty line. This is over double the rate of the national average (12 percent) of the U.S. population living in poverty. Furthermore, the unemployment rate in U.S. counties on the southern border is 5.6 percent compared to 4.7 percent in the rest of the country. Mexican border states have an average poverty rate of 28 percent, significantly below the Mexican national average of 37 percent. (Sources: Environmental Protection Agency; Pan-American Health Organization/World Health Organization; Inter-American Development Bank; CIA World Factbook)

The border area in the United States consists of 48 counties in four states. Approximately 300,000 people live in 1,300 colonias in Texas and New Mexico. Colonias are unincorporated, semirural communities characterized by substandard housing and unsafe public drinking water or wastewater systems. Communities on the Mexican side of the border generally have less access to basic water and sanitation services than border communities in the United States. (Sources: Environmental Protection Agency; Pan-American Health Organization/World Health Organization)

Two of the 10 fastest-growing metropolitan areas in the United States, Laredo and McAllen, are located on the Texas-Mexico border. Estimates indicate the population of many border cities will double in 30 years. The population along the Texas border region is increasing at twice the rate of Texas as a whole. (Source: U.S. Census Bureau)

Mexicans constitute 29.5 percent of all foreign born in the United States, by far the largest group. The Philippines and India follow with about four percent each. (Source: March 2005 Supplement, CPS)

The United States issued 906,622 nonimmigrant visas for Mexicans in fiscal year (FY) 2005. In addition, 732,566 laser visas (which replaced the old border crossing cards for those who live on the Mexican side of the border but work in the United States) were issued in FY 2005, down from 1,990,402 in FY 2001. Note: The U.S. government's fiscal year runs from October 1 to September 30. (Source: U.S. Department of State Visa Statistics)

As of March 2006, the estimated unauthorized population in the United States was 11.5 to 12 million, of which 4.5 to 6 million entered legally with inspection and 6 to 7 million entered illegally without inspection. Those who entered legally with inspection include nonimmigrant visa overstayers (4 to 5.5 million) and border crossing card violators (250,000 to 500,000), while those who entered illegally without inspection evaded immigration inspectors and the Border Patrol. On average, there are 700,000 to 850,000 new unauthorized migrants arriving annually by all modes of entry. An estimated 6.2 million (or 56 percent) of all unauthorized migrants are from Mexico. (Sources: Pew Hispanic Center Estimates based on March 2005 Current Population Survey; DHS reports)
Crossings
In FY 2004, 12,338 trucks crossed the border daily, up 63 percent from FY 1994, the year the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) was enacted. Cross-border land trade with Mexico totaled just under $225 billion in 2004, nearly double the $115 billion in cross-border trade in 1998. (Sources: U.S. Department of Transportation; the Washington Post)

The volume of land inspections at the southern border decreased 21 percent between FY 2000 and FY 2004. Land inspections at the southern border decreased from 324 million in FY 2000 to 255 million in FY 2004. Land inspections made up 78 percent of all inspections (429 million) in FY 2004, and 76 percent of the 333 million total land inspections were conducted at the southern border. These inspection figures include individuals who make multiple entries, such as visitors with nonimmigrant visas or border crossing cards. (Source: PAS G-22.1 Inspections, Office of Immigration Statistics, DHS)

In 2004, there was an average of 660,000 passenger crossings per day across 35 points of entry (POEs) on the 1,952-mile border between the United States and Mexico. Crossings by personal vehicles rose 43 percent between 1995 and 1999 and then fell 21 percent (to 191 million) by 2004. Almost 20 percent of passenger crossings into the United States from Mexico in 2004 were made on foot, while bus crossings only constituted 1.4 percent (3.4 million) of crossings from Mexico. In 2004 there were over 20 million pedestrian crossings in Texas alone. (Source: U.S. Bureau of Transportation Statistics)
Border Enforcement
Of the approximately 11,000 Border Patrol agents, 89 percent work along the U.S.-Mexico border. In contrast, there are approximately 980 agents currently working along the 4,000-mile U.S.-Canada border. In a recent speech on immigration reform, President Bush pledged to add 6,000 more Border Patrol agents by the end of 2008. In the interim, 6,000 National Guard troops will be sent to the southern border to provide support services to the Border Patrol, such as construction and surveillance. (Source: Customs and Border Protection)

In FY 2004, there were 1,139,282 apprehensions of immigrants on the southern border. Apprehensions reflect the number of arrests, not individuals, as many migrants are caught several times. The level of apprehensions has fallen from a high of 1,643,679 in FY 2000 but is still greater than the 905,065 apprehensions in FY 2003. While historically most apprehensions have taken place in California and Texas, in FY 2004 the Tucson, Arizona, Border Patrol sector was responsible for 43 percent (491,771) of apprehensions, while only 12 percent (138,608) took place in the San Diego sector and nine percent (104,399) in the El Paso sector. As border enforcement has been strengthened in urban areas along the border, unauthorized immigrants have increasingly attempted to cross over the more remote and dangerous desert areas along the Arizona border. (Source: USCIS Office of Immigration Statistics)
For a map of Border Patrol sectors, see the Spotlight on U.S. Immigration Enforcement.
In FY 2005, there were a record-breaking 473 migrant deaths at the border; over 260 were on the Arizona border. This number represents a 43 percent increase over the 330 border deaths in FY 2004. The previous high in recent years was 383 deaths in FY 2000. Officials attributed the increased deaths to more than 30 straight days of 100-degree-plus temperatures in parts of Arizona and to better recordkeeping by the agency, which now checks with coroners' offices to include bodies located by other agencies. The Border Patrol also rescued a record 2,570 migrants in FY 2005, nearly twice as many as the 1,347 rescues the previous year. (Source: U.S. Customs and Border Protection Public Affairs Office)

Currently, there are 74.8 miles of fence along the U.S.-Mexico border, mostly in California and Texas. A bill passed by the House of Representatives in December 2005 calls for about 700 miles of new fencing, while the proposal approved by the Senate in May 2006 calls for about 370 miles of fencing. (Sources: Border Protection, Antiterrorism, and Illegal Immigration Control Act of 2005, H.R. 4437, 109th Congress, 2nd session; Comprehensive Immigration Reform Act of 2006, S. 2611, 109th Congress, 2nd session)

The Secure Border Initiative (SBI) is a multiyear plan by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to secure the nation's borders and prevent unauthorized migration. SBI aims to increase staffing and funding for the Border Patrol and Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which is responsible for immigration enforcement in the country's interior. The initiative also includes ending a practice called "catch and release" in which immigrants apprehended for unauthorized migration are released into the United States pending their immigration hearing; upgrading border control technology and infrastructure; and strengthening immigration enforcement at the workplace. (Sources: DHS; the Washington Post; GovExec.com)

SBI will bring new technology and ideas to Border Patrol operations. In its border control efforts, SBI employs electronic sensors, night vision scopes, ground vehicles, aircraft, and unmanned aerial vehicles. SBI replaces previous border security initiatives, including the America's Shield Initiative (ASI). DHS is offering a contract, with an estimated value of $2 billion, to private firms for the initiative's border security component, called SBInet. SBInet will be an integrated network of sensors and cameras along both of the nation's borders. The request for proposals was issued in April 2006, and DHS plans to award a contact in September. As part of this process, DHS is actively seeking new ideas from the private sector on how to improve border control operations. (Sources: DHS; the Washington Post, GovExec.com)

Since 2002, Mexico has launched several major initiatives, both independently and bilaterally with the United States, to address cross-border issues such as security, organized crime, drug trafficking, and human smuggling. Mexico and the United States signed the 2002 U.S.-Mexico Border Partnership and Action Plan (known as the Smart Border Agreement), which harmonizes point-of-entry operations, combats alien smuggling, and improves screening of third-country nationals. Mexico independently launched Operation Centinela in 2003 to strengthen detention operations of certain unauthorized immigrants and to improve measures to target organized crime and human trafficking.

The United States and Mexico signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) in 2004 to assist both governments in managing migratory flows and protecting the human rights of immigrants. In 2005, the two countries launched Operation Against Smugglers (and Traffickers) Initiative on Safety and Security (OASSIS), which expanded existing efforts against violent human traffickers. The United States and Mexico also formalized the Permanent Program against Human Smuggling aimed at prevention, victim's assistance, and information exchange. (Sources: Migration Policy Institute; DHS; MIPT Terrorism Knowledge Base)
Economy
The United States is Mexico's largest trading partner, and Mexico is the United States' second-largest trading partner. Trade between the two countries reached $290 billion in 2005, averaging about $795 million a day. U.S. exports to Mexico in 2005 were $120 billion, and U.S. imports from Mexico were over $170 billion. Exports to Mexico have more than doubled since the passage of NAFTA in 1994, when U.S. exports to Mexico were over $50 billion. (Source: U.S. Census Bureau, "Foreign Trade Statistics")
For more on U.S.-Mexico trade and migration, see MPI Fact Sheet #11
In 2005, Mexico imported more than US$101 billion in merchandise from just 17 U.S. states. Texas was the top state exporter to Mexico, with export earnings of US$50 billion, followed by California, with exports earnings of US$17 billion. (Source: U.S. International Trade Administration)

There are more than 2,700 maquiladoras in Mexican border states. Maquiladoras (export-oriented factories) on the border account for about 71 percent of all such factories in Mexico. The maquiladora industry is a major source of Mexico's export earnings. (Source: Environmental Protection Agency)

As part of the trilateral Security and Prosperity Partnership (SPP), launched in 2005, the United States, Mexico, and Canada are working to enhance security while facilitating cross-border movement, trade, and economic cooperation. The three countries plan to speed border-crossing times for people and commerce by expanding the trusted traveler and trusted trader programs and improving infrastructure at ports of entry. They aim to implement a single, integrated trusted traveler program by 2008. The members are working to develop common regulations and standards on food safety and other products to facilitate trade and eliminate duplicative testing and certification processes.

The three participating countries have also formed a North American Competitiveness Council (NACC) to provide recommendations on developing competitive industries in the region. Their goal is to cooperate on clean-energy technologies, energy conservation, and market facilitation to build greater energy security and sustainable development in the region. (Sources: Department of Homeland Security; the White House, "Security and Prosperity Partnership of North America Prosperity Agenda")

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Population Crossings Border Enforcement Economy Population About 11.8 million people live in the U.S.-Mexico border area. Approximately one-quarter of the population in the U.S. counties bordering Mexico live at or below the poverty line. This is over double the rate of the national average (12 percent) of the U.S.

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News about immigration and emigration. Commentary and archival information about immigration and emigration from The New York Times.

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While Mexicans remain the largest group of immigrants in the United States, accounting for about 24 percent of the 45.3 million foreign-born residents in the country as of 2021, their numbers have been shrinking for more than a decade. The COVID-19 pandemic seems to have slowed this decline somewhat. And the public-health crisis also may have played a role in returning Mexicans to the top nationality for new arrivals, outpacing those from China and India for the first time in several years.

In 2021, there were about 10.7 million Mexican-born individuals living in the United States. Despite the continued popularity of the United States as a destination, the Mexican immigrant population decreased by about 1 million people (or 9 percent) between 2010 and 2021. Between 2005 and 2014, the number of Mexicans leaving the United States outpaced the number of new arrivals, although this trend later reversed, according to Pew Research Center estimates, with the number of returns to Mexico falling.

For several years starting in 2013 Mexico ceased to be the top country of origin for new immigrants to the United States, overtaken by India and China. However, recent data suggest that during the pandemic Mexicans have again become the largest new immigrant group, amid widespread restrictions on mobility particularly for people traveling long distances. Among U.S. foreign-born residents who in 2021 reported that they lived abroad a year before, 96,000 were Mexican as compared to 76,000 Indians and 56,000 immigrants from mainland China.

Mexicans also received the largest number of overall nonimmigrant visas-including, in particular, temporary worker visas-ahead of China and India in both fiscal year (FY) 2020 and FY 2021. Similarly, Mexicans are the top recipients of lawful permanent residence (also referred as obtaining a green card): 107,200 Mexicans received a green card in FY 2021, compared to 93,500 from India and 49,800 from mainland China. Most Mexican receiving lawful permanent residence in FY 2021 already lived in the United States and were adjusting from another status; just 34,900 had applied from outside the United States.
Figure 1. Mexican Immigrant Population in the United States, 1980-2021
Sources: Data from U.S. Census Bureau 2010 and 2021 American Community Surveys (ACS), and Campbell J. Gibson and Kay Jung, "Historical Census Statistics on the Foreign-Born Population of the United States: 1850-2000" (Working Paper no. 81, U.S. Census Bureau, Washington, DC, February 2006), available online.

Click here to view an interactive chart showing the number of Mexican immigrants and their share of all U.S. immigrants over time.

Mexicans also account for the largest group of unauthorized immigrants: 48 percent of the total 11 million people in 2019, according to estimates from the Migration Policy Institute (MPI). Although the number of unauthorized immigrants from Mexico has been on the decline, this trend may have shifted due in part to effects of the pandemic. As inflation increases in Mexico, climbing to a 21-year high in August 2022, more Mexicans have headed to the U.S. border. In FY 2020, for the first time in five years, Mexicans accounted for more than half of all encounters recorded by U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP), and the number of encounters of Mexicans at the border in FY 2022 reached its highest point since FY 2007.

The United States is overwhelmingly the most popular destination for Mexicans living abroad, accounting for 97 percent of all Mexican emigrants. In fact, 8 percent of all people born in Mexico lived in the United States as of 2020. Canada is home to the next largest population of Mexicans (87,000), followed by Spain (61,000), Germany (20,000), and Guatemala (19,000), according to mid-2020 United Nations Population Division estimates.

Click here to view an interactive map showing where migrants from Mexico and other countries have settled worldwide.

Within the United States, almost 60 percent of Mexican immigrants live in California or Texas. Most Mexican immigrants are not U.S. citizens, and those who gained permanent resident status in FY 2021 mainly did so via family sponsorship. Compared to both the overall foreign- and U.S.-born populations, Mexican immigrants have lower levels of educational attainment and lower household incomes. They also tend to have lived in the United States for longer than all immigrants and are more likely to be in the labor force than U.S.-born adults.

Using data from the U.S. Census Bureau (the most recent 2021 American Community Survey [ACS], the 2019 ACS, and pooled 2015-19 ACS data), the Department of Homeland Security's Office of Immigration Statistics, the World Bank, and MPI, this Spotlight provides information on the Mexican immigrant population in the United States, focusing on its size, geographic distribution, and socioeconomic characteristics.

Click on the bullet points below for more information:
Distribution by State and Key Cities
Most immigrants from Mexico lived in California (36 percent) Texas (22 percent), Illinois (6 percent), and Arizona (5 percent) as of the 2015-19 period, which represents the most recent pooled data file available from the U.S. Census Bureau at this writing. (MPI uses the five-year file for more precise estimates for smaller geographies and populations.) The next six most populous states-Florida, Washington, Georgia, North Carolina, Colorado, and Nevada-were home to an additional 13 percent of the Mexican-born population. The four counties with the most Mexican immigrants were Los Angeles County in California, Harris County in Texas, Cook County in Illinois, and Dallas County in Texas. Together, these counties accounted for 22 percent of the Mexican immigrant population.
Figure 2. Top States of Residence for Mexican Immigrants in the United States, 2015-19
Notes: Pooled 2015-19 ACS data, which were the most recent available from the U.S. Census Bureau at this writing, were used to get statistically valid estimates at the state level for smaller-population geographies. Not shown are the populations in Alaska, which are small in size; for details, visit the Migration Policy Institute (MPI) Migration Data Hub for an interactive map showing geographic distribution of immigrants by state and county, available online.
Source: MPI tabulation of data from U.S. Census Bureau pooled 2015-19 ACS.

Click here for an interactive map that shows the geographic distribution of immigrants by state and county. Select Mexico from the dropdown menu to see which states and counties have the highest distributions of Mexican immigrants.

As of 2015-19, the U.S. cities with the largest number of Mexicans were the greater Los Angeles, Chicago, Dallas, and Houston metropolitan areas. Thirty-one percent of Mexican immigrants lived in these four metro areas.

Click here for an interactive map that highlights the metropolitan areas with the highest concentrations of immigrants from Mexico and elsewhere.
Table 1. Top Concentrations of Mexican Immigrants by U.S. Metropolitan Area, 2015-19
Source: MPI tabulation of data from the U.S. Census Bureau pooled 2015-19 ACS.
English Proficiency
Mexican immigrants are less likely to be proficient in English than the overall foreign-born population. In 2021, about 65 percent of Mexicans ages 5 and over reported limited English proficiency, compared to about 46 percent of all immigrants. Approximately 6 percent of Mexican immigrants spoke only English at home, versus 17 percent of all immigrants.
Note: Limited English Proficient (LEP) status refers to those who indicated on the ACS questionnaire that they spoke English less than "very well." Age, Education, and Employment
In 2021, Mexican immigrants were of roughly the same average age as the overall foreign-born population but older than the U.S.-born population. Their median age was about 46 years old, compared to 47 for all immigrants and 37 for the native-born population. Mexican immigrants were more likely than the native- and overall foreign-born populations to be of working age (18 to 64 years old; see Figure 4).

Mexican adults have much lower rates of educational attainment than both the native- and overall foreign-born populations. In 2021, approximately 52 percent of Mexican immigrants ages 25 and older lacked a high school diploma or equivalent, compared to 26 percent of foreign-born adults and 7 percent of U.S.-born adults. About 9 percent of Mexican immigrants reported having a bachelor's degree or higher, compared to 35 percent of U.S.-born and 34 percent of immigrant adults. However, the college-educated share of Mexicans who arrived within the past five years was much higher: 19 percent as of 2019.

According to the Institute of International Education, about 13,000 international students from Mexico were enrolled in U.S. higher education institutions in the 2020-21 school year. A relatively small share of the 914,000 international students in the United States, Mexico ranked ninth among sending countries. Following Brazil, Mexico was the second largest country of origin from Latin America and the Caribbean, representing approximately 18 percent of the 72,900 students from the region in the United States.

Mexicans participate in the labor force at slightly higher rates than the native born and overall foreign-born population. About 68 percent of Mexican immigrants ages 16 and older were in the civilian labor force in 2021, compared to 66 percent and 62 percent for the foreign- and U.S.-born populations, respectively. Compared to those two groups, Mexicans were more likely to be employed in the service; natural resources, construction, and maintenance; and production, transportation, and material moving occupations (see Figure 5).
Income and Poverty
On average, Mexicans have lower incomes than the overall foreign- and native-born populations. In 2021, households headed by a Mexican immigrant had a median annual income of $56,000, compared to $70,000 for all immigrant- and native-led households.

In 2021, Mexican immigrants were more likely to be in poverty (17 percent) than immigrants overall (14 percent) or the U.S. born (13 percent).
Immigration Pathways and Naturalization
Mexicans are much less likely to be naturalized U.S. citizens than immigrants overall. In 2021, 35 percent of Mexican immigrants were U.S. citizens, compared to 53 percent of the total foreign-born population.

Compared to all immigrants, Mexicans are more likely to have arrived in the United States at least a decade ago: 57 percent arrived prior to 2000, compared to 48 percent for all immigrants. Just 16 percent have arrived since 2010, as compared to 28 percent for the overall immigrant population (see Figure 6).

In FY 2021, Mexico was the top country of origin for new lawful permanent residents (LPRs); approximately 107,200, or 14 percent of the 740,000 people receiving a green card that year, were from Mexico. In FY 2021, 84 percent of Mexicans who received a green card that year did so either as an immediate relative of a U.S. citizen or green-card holder or as another family member of a citizen, a much higher share than the 61 percent of all new LPRs (see Figure 7).
Figure 7. Immigration Pathways of Mexican and All New Legal Permanent Residents in the United States, FY 2021
Notes: Immediate Relatives of U.S. Citizens: Includes spouses, minor children, and parents of U.S. citizens. Family-Sponsored Preferences: Includes adult children and siblings of U.S. citizens as well as spouses and children of green-card holders. The Diversity Visa lottery was established by the Immigration Act of 1990 to allow entry to immigrants from countries with low rates of immigration to the United States. The law states that 55,000 diversity visas in total are made available each fiscal year. Individuals born in Mexico are not eligible for the lottery. Percentages may not add up to 100 as they are rounded to the nearest whole number.
Source: MPI tabulation of data from Department of Homeland Security (DHS), "Table 10D: Persons Obtaining Lawful Permanent Resident Status by Broad Class Of Admission and Region and Country of Birth: Fiscal Year 2021," updated September 26, 2022, available online.
Unauthorized Immigrant Population
MPI estimates that as of 2019, approximately 5.3 million (48 percent) of the estimated 11 million unauthorized immigrants in the United States were from Mexico.

Click here to view an interactive map showing MPI's estimates of the number and geographic distribution (by state and county) of unauthorized immigrants from Mexico and other top origin countries. Click here to view MPI demographic profiles for unauthorized immigrants nationwide, in most states, and in top counties.

Mexican immigrants are the largest group participating in the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, which provides temporary deportation relief and work authorization to unauthorized migrants who arrived as children and meet the program's education and other eligibility criteria. As of mid-2022, 480,200 Mexicans were active DACA participants, accounting for the vast majority of all 594,100 DACA recipients, according to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) data.

Click here to view the top origin countries of DACA recipients and their U.S. states of residence.
Health Coverage
Mexicans have low health insurance coverage rates compared to all immigrants and the U.S. born. In 2021, 37 percent of immigrants from Mexico were uninsured, compared to 19 percent of the entire foreign-born population and 7 percent of the U.S. born (see Figure 8).
Diaspora
The Mexican diaspora is comprised of approximately 38.7 million U.S. residents who were either born in Mexico or reported Mexican ancestry or origin, according to MPI tabulation of data from the U.S. Census Bureau's 2019 ACS. The Mexican diaspora is the second largest in the country, after the German-origin diaspora.

Click here to see estimates of the top 20 diasporas groups in the United States in 2019.
Remittances
More than $54.1 billion in remittances was sent to Mexico via formal channels in 2021, according to the World Bank, the vast majority undoubtedly from the United States. Remittances have steadily risen following a dip around the time of the Great Recession in 2008-09 and grew at an even faster rate during the COVID-19 pandemic despite an initial prediction that they would decline. Global remittances represented about 4 percent of Mexico's gross domestic product (GDP) in 2021.
Figure 9. Annual Remittance Flows to Mexico, 1990-2021
Sources
Note: The 2021 figure represents World Bank estimates.
Source: MPI tabulations of data from the World Bank Global Knowledge Partnership on Migration and Development (KNOMAD), "Remittance Inflows," May 2022 update, available online.

Click here to view an interactive chart showing annual remittances received and sent by Mexico and other countries.

Batalova, Jeanne. 2022. Temporary Visa Holders in the United States. Migration Information Source, September 15, 2022. Available online.

Cortes Fernandez, Raul, Diego Ore, and Brendan O'Boyle. 2022. Remittances to Mexico Again Break Record on Back of Strong U.S. Labor Market. Reuters, September 1, 2022. Available online.

Gibson, Campbell J. and Kay Jung. 2006. Historical Census Statistics on the Foreign-Born Population of the United States: 1850-2000. Working Paper no. 81, U.S. Census Bureau, Washington, DC, February 2006. Available online.

Gonzalez-Barrera, Ana. 2015. More Mexicans Leaving than Coming to the U.S. Washington, DC: Pew Research Center. Available online.

---. 2021. Before COVID-19, More Mexicans Came to the U.S. than Left for Mexico for the First Time in Years. Washington, DC: Pew Research Center. Available online.

Institute of International Education (IIE). N.d. International Students: All Places of Origin. Accessed September 30, 2022. Available online.

Knowledge Partnership on Migration and Development (KNOMAD)/World Bank Group. 2022. Remittance Inflows. Updated May 2022. Available online.

Migration Policy Institute (MPI) Migration Data Hub. N.d. Educational Attainment of U.S. Adults (ages 25 and over) by Nativity and Country of Birth, 2019. Accessed September 28, 2022. Available online.

Torres, Noe and Gabriel Burin. 2022. Mexican Inflation Seen at 8.71% in the First Half of September. Reuters, September 19, 2022. Available online.

United Nations Population Division. N.d. International Migrant Stock by Destination and Origin. Accessed September 28, 2022. Available online.

U.S. Census Bureau. 2022. 2021 American Community Survey. Accessed from Steven Ruggles, Katie Genadek, Ronald Goeken, Josiah Grover, and Matthew Sobek. Integrated Public Use Microdata Series: Version 7.0 [dataset]. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota. Available online.

---. N.d. 2021 American Community Survey-Advanced Search. Accessed September 28, 2022. Available online.

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS). 2022. Count of Active DACA Recipients by Country of Birth as of June 30, 2022. Washington, DC: USCIS. Available online.

U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS) Office of Immigration Statistics. 2022. Immigration Data and Statistics. Updated September 30, 2022. Available online.

Yakshilikov, Yorbol. 2022. The Unexpected Rise in Remittances to Central America and Mexico During the Pandemic. International Monetary Fund, September 21, 2022. Available online.

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Jeanne Batalova Raquel Rosenbloom and Jeanne Batalova

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Mexicans are by far the largest immigrant group in the United States, accounting for nearly one-fourth of all immigrants. However their numbers have been declining and in 2021 there were 1 million fewer than a decade ago.

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