Who Gets Labeled an “Immigrant”— and Who Doesn’t

By Tony Hernández – Documentary Filmmaker & Oral Historian Preserving family, founder, and cultural legacy

Who Gets Labeled an “Immigrant”— and Who Doesn’t

The word immigrant isn’t applied evenly in America.
It’s assigned—often reflexively, often carelessly—and rarely questioned.

That became clear to me through two very different conversations.
When I asked Colin Farrell whether he considered himself an immigrant, he didn’t hesitate. By definition, he said, that’s exactly what he is. And yet, he pointed out something telling: he’s almost never labeled that way.
Not in the press.
Not in public conversation.
That distinction, he noted, isn’t accidental—it’s social.

Then there was Edward James Olmos.

He grew up in Boyle Heights, which he calls “the Ellis Island of the West Coast.” His father arrived in 1945, unable to speak English, and built a life through relentless work and sacrifice. Olmos himself was born here, yet the immigrant experience shaped his identity, his values, and his sense of responsibility. In communities like his, immigrant often becomes a shared inheritance—carried across generations, regardless of paperwork.

Taken together, the contrast is striking.
Immigrant is often less about legal status and more about perception.
Accent.
Skin tone.
Neighborhood.
In other words, how “foreignness” is visually and socially assigned.

Some people cross borders and become international.
Others cross borders and become immigrants.
And in many Latino communities, even those born here can find the label quietly following them.

This matters—especially now. When labels are applied loosely, enforcement can become loose too—sliding from legal precision into visual profiling. The fear doesn’t stop with the undocumented; it ripples outward to citizens, legal residents, families, schools, and workplaces.

This isn’t an argument against immigration law.
It’s a call for clarity, restraint, and humanity.

After years of listening to people describe their lives, one thing is clear: belonging is assumed for some—and constantly questioned for others.

So here’s the question I’ll leave you with:
If the label “immigrant” is applied so unevenly, how confident are we that the systems built around it are being applied fairly — to the people who live under them every day?