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Published online by Cambridge University Press: 23 November 2005
Does the academic literature on U.S. immigration adequately capture the experiences of immigrants outside their traditional areas of concentration? This article reviews the three major fields of research in immigrant incorporation—economic, sociocultural, and political. It emphasizes the two most prominent conceptual frameworks in each: the human capital frame and the more recent sociological frame, which highlights “modes of incorporation” and “contexts of reception.” Although research in immigrants' political incorporation is less developed than its economic and sociological counterparts, I pay close attention to the ways in which structural and contextual factors shape participation. Immigrants' geographic dispersal complements this trend toward contextualism by providing greater variation in their places of destination; that variation can help advance the comparative research agenda.Helen B. Marrow is a doctoral candidate in sociology and social policy at Harvard University (marrow@wjh.harvard.edu). Preparation of this article was supported by a National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship, a National Science Foundation Integrative Graduate Education and Research Traineeship (IGERT grant 98070661), a David Rockefeller Center for Latin American Studies Summer Research Grant, a Center for American Political Studies Dissertation Fellowship in American Politics, and a partial Rural Poverty Research Institute Rural Poverty Dissertation Fellowship. Opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect the views of any of the supporting sources. Thanks to Mary Waters, Luisa Heredia, Jennifer Hochschild, Katherine Newman, William J. Wilson, and three anonymous reviewers for valuable feedback on previous drafts.
Current immigrants to the United States—who numbered 35.7 million in 2004—are geographically distinguished from natives by region, state, and metropolitan status. In 2002 they were more likely than natives to live in the West (38 percent versus 21 percent) or the Northeast (23 percent versus 18 percent) and less likely to live in the South (28 percent versus 37 percent) or Midwest (11 percent versus 24 percent). In 2000, 67 percent of immigrants lived in California, New York, Texas, Florida, Illinois, and New Jersey, while 23 states, mostly in the Midwest and South, had foreign-born populations under 5 percent. In 2002 approximately 95 percent of immigrants resided in metropolitan areas, over a third in New York and Los Angeles alone, and they were more likely than natives to live in central cities (43.3 percent versus 27.0 percent). In contrast, they were less likely than natives to live in nonmetropolitan areas (5.7 percent versus 20.4 percent), although comparable proportions of each resided in suburbs (51.1 percent versus 52.6 percent).1
However, immigrants have also been dispersing throughout the country, settling in states, cities, and rural areas that had not experienced much immigration since the borders were substantially opened by the 1965 immigration law. Concentration and dispersion are occurring simultaneously because rising immigration levels allow immigrant populations to increase in both traditional and new settlement areas.2
Mexicans, the largest U.S. immigrant group, exemplify geographic dispersion. Since 1987, three factors have contributed to a shift in Mexicans' destinations: stricter border enforcement in the Southwest; increased anti-immigrant sentiment, especially in California; and the unintended effects of a blanket amnesty given to long-term undocumented residents and a special legalization program given to undocumented farmworkers (under the 1986 Immigration Reform and Control Act [IRCA]).3
Congress passed IRCA “in an effort to reduce unauthorized migration by legalizing migrants already living and working in the country and adopting employer sanctions in an attempt to make it harder for future migrants to find jobs” (Bean and Stevens 2003, 2). Its two main components were legalization programs (for undocumented immigrants who had been living in the United States since 1982 and migrant farm workers who been working in the United States for at least six months, respectively) and implementation of economic sanctions against employers who hire undocumented immigrants; it also increased the budget of the U.S. border control and launched several crackdowns on the U.S.-Mexico border. Its legalization program flooded local labor markets, particularly those around Los Angeles, with newly legalized migrants; it also, by offering immigrants new labor rights, reduced their fear of detection and arrest and lessened their fear of moving freely. See Durand, Massey, and Capoferro 2005, 9–16.
These three factors spurred a shift in Mexican immigration away from its traditional base in the Southwest and toward new, nontraditional receiving regions. In the United States, hiring practices began to favor subcontracting (due to IRCA's employer sanctions), immigrants' net wages declined, and a recession in the early 1990s led to high unemployment and low wages among newly arrived immigrants. Simultaneously, economic restructuring in both urban and rural areas transformed many industries—such as seafood, food processing, and agriculture—as manufacturing declined relative to high- and low-end services and many industries relocated to the U.S. peripheries and foreign destinations.4
Griffith 1993; Griffith et al. 1995; Kandel and Parrado 2004; Stull, Broadway, and Griffith 1995; Zúñiga and Hernández-León 2005.
Mexicans' settlement patterns reflect these changes. Between 1990 and 2000 the percentage of Mexican immigrants going to California dropped by ten points (from 58 to 48 percent), the percentage going to Texas fell to an all-time low (19 percent), and the percentage going to nongateway states more than doubled (from 10 to 21 percent).5
Other immigrant groups have also diversified geographically. The percentage of immigrants living in California, New York, Texas, Florida, Illinois, and New Jersey as well as the number of states with foreign-born populations under 5 percent declined between 1990 (70 percent and 31 states) and 2000 (67 percent and 23 states). The percentage of Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders residing in California, New York, Hawaii, Texas, New Jersey, and Illinois declined between 1990 (71 percent) and 2000 (66 percent) and the Hispanic populations of eight “new Hispanic settlement states” spanning all four regions of the country—Arizona, Nevada, Georgia, North Carolina, Oregon, Virginia, Washington, and Massachusetts—roughly tripled in size.6
Immigrants have dispersed into new metropolitan areas. While 16 “established Latino metros” continued to receive the largest absolute increases in Latinos over the 1980s and 1990s, they were challenged by eleven “fast-growing Latino hubs” with average population growth rates of 235 percent between 1980 and 2000. Additionally, 51 “new Latino destinations” charted the fastest relative Latino growth rates between 1980 and 2000, despite having few Latinos in 1980. In 2000 these new Latino destinations spanned 35 states in all regions of the country and were home to 5.3 million Latino residents—19 percent of Latinos living in the top 100 metropolitan destinations.7
Immigrants have increasingly moved to the suburbs of metropolitan areas. Already in 1990, 43 percent of recent immigrants in metropolitan areas were living in the urban periphery. Suburbanization had occurred not just among immigrant groups with high levels of human capital—such as Koreans, Chinese, and Indians—but also among some labor migrant groups, such as Mexicans and Salvadorans.8
In 2000, 48 percent of immigrants resided in suburbs, as did 38 percent of blacks, 49 percent of Latinos, and 58 percent of Asian Americans. Racial and ethnic minorities made up more than a quarter (27 percent) of suburban populations, up from 19 percent in 1990.9Frey 2001, 1–2; Jones-Correa 2005, 90; Logan 2001.
While relatively few immigrants live in rural areas—in 2000, just 8 percent of immigrants, 6 percent of Asian Americans, and 12 percent of Hispanics—their absolute numbers have increased and are best exemplified by two important trends among Hispanics. First, the Hispanic population grew faster in nonmetropolitan than metropolitan areas (exceeding the metropolitan and nonmetropolitan growth rates of all other racial and ethnic groups). Second, for the first time in U.S. history, half of all nonmetropolitan Hispanics currently live outside the five southwestern states of Arizona, California, Colorado, New Mexico and Texas. Thus while Hispanics constituted just 6 percent of the U.S. nonmetropolitan population in 2000, they accounted for 25 percent of its growth.10
Kandel and Parrado 2004, 255–57; Ruggles et al. 2004.
Immigrants' geographic dispersion raises the question, how well does the academic literature and current research capture the experiences of immigrants outside their traditional areas of concentration? In this article I review the three major fields of research in immigrant incorporation—economic, sociocultural, and political—identifying the main subfields and emphasizing the two most prominent conceptual frameworks in each: the human capital frame and the more recent sociological frame, which highlights “modes of incorporation” and “contexts of reception.” I focus in particular on ways in which structural and contextual factors shape immigrants' political participation.
In the United States, most research on immigrant incorporation is concerned with how immigrants are faring economically, and how they are affecting natives in the labor market. There are four main subfields in immigrant economic incorporation research: economic assimilation, economic impact on U.S. natives, impact on macroeconomic labor market growth, and fiscal impact on government services and tax structures.
Economic integration is “the process by which immigrants accumulate job experience in the U.S. labor market as their tenure in the host country increases,”12
Raijman and Tienda 1999, 240.
Barry Chiswick optimistically concluded from a cross-sectional comparison of immigrant and native earnings that most immigrants would achieve economic parity with U.S. natives within one generation, even if their skills were lower on arriving. George Borjas, however, found evidence in a longitudinal analysis of “declining immigrant quality”—widening differences between immigrants and natives' skills among successive cohorts of immigrants. From this he concluded that immigrants might never achieve economic parity with natives, or at least that it would take more than one generation to do so.13
Those practicing new sociological approaches criticize studies based on the human capital model for relying exclusively on a neoclassical theory of immigration causes and rational action decision making at the expense of theoretical frameworks that are equally or more explanatory. These include the new economics of migration, social network theory, world systems theory, and cumulative causation theory. Some also criticize the human capital orientation for its failure to account for the influence of social and cultural contexts on the economic outcomes of immigrants, or to explain the differences that remain between workers of different ascribed characteristics but similar “skill levels.” For example, Chiswick's work assumes stability in economic growth, immigrants' educational characteristics, and host society's reception (none of which have been stable since the late 1970s), and underplays unequal wage growth profiles for comparably skilled men of Asian, Hispanic, and other origins. Similarly, Borjas's work seems to ignore period conditions and the selective effects of emigration and systematically underplays the effect of labor demand; that is, declining immigrant quality may result from a fall in the wages of unskilled workers, not a decline in the “quality” of incoming immigrants.14
Raijman and Tienda 1999, 241.
Others scholars focus on modes of incorporation, further showing how individual attainment depends on reception contexts as well as individual characteristics.15
Modes of incorporation comprises government policy toward immigrants, particularly state-defined immigrant categories used as the basis for granting benefits; civic society and public opinion toward immigrants, defined as prejudice toward immigrant groups; and the presence, size, and organization of the coethnic community.16Overall, immigrants' individual characteristics affect their incorporation into the U.S. labor market. Yet the U.S. economy demands and rewards immigrants' skills differently at the national and local levels, and their treatment by U.S. natives and society also affects their incorporation. Thus scholars need to delineate clearly the context of immigrants' pathways through the labor force, paying greater attention to variation in reception contexts at subnational levels. If immigrants with similar characteristics and skills are faring differently across the country, then traditional models of immigrant attainment based solely on individualistic analyses of immigrants' characteristics are insufficient.
Does immigrants' incorporation positively or negatively affect native workers? The findings are mixed. At the national level the economic impact of immigrants on natives is minimal; quantitative studies of national data consistently fail to find large effects of native displacement, although they do find negative wage and employment effects on other immigrants.17
Bean and Stevens 2003, 222; Friedberg and Hunt 1999; Hamermesh and Bean 1998; Smith and Edmonston 1998.
These contradictory findings may be compatible for three reasons. First, their methodologies differ. Economic researchers use methods such as production functions, geographic area studies, and natural experiments, which themselves may yield different results,20
while qualitative studies often focus on sites of employment where immigrants are concentrated and displacement more likely. Second, displacement among certain subgroups of workers may not show up in aggregate data; the gains from immigration may be largest for groups who own resources that complement immigrant labor (usually employers), while the costs largest for groups that compete against immigrant labor (usually African Americans); the two may balance each other out in aggregate data.21 The third reason has to do with the next subfield of immigrant economic incorporation research.In substitution-replacement studies just discussed, immigrants' effects on natives are measured in terms of jobs. However, even without displacing natives in certain jobs, immigrants' presence might increase unemployment rates or widen wage gaps, producing distributional, rather than absolute, effects. It might also depress entrepreneurship among displaced groups, encourage emigration out of areas where immigrants are concentrated, or decrease the quality of jobs or unionization rates.22
Therefore we need to measure immigrants' economic impact by other indicators, such as unemployment rates, wage distributions, entrepreneurship rates, national wealth, national productivity levels, or the quality of jobs.However, research findings here are also contradictory. One study finds that high rates of immigrant entrepreneurship accompany rather than depress African American entrepreneurship,23
while another finds “support for both views of the impact of immigration: that immigrants take low-skill jobs formerly held by natives and that immigrants also help push natives upward in the occupational stratification system.”24Rosenfeld and Tienda 1999, 97–98.
At the aggregate national level, immigrants do not use a disproportionate share of government services; they pay sufficient taxes to outweigh the benefits they receive.26
Bean and Stevens 2003, chap. 4; Smith and Edmonston 1998.
We can expand the definition of economic integration to produce a working definition of immigrant social and cultural incorporation as the process by which immigrants accumulate social and cultural experience in U.S. society as their tenure in the host country increases. Here too, there are four main subfields in immigrant sociocultural incorporation research.
The first two are immigrants' structural assimilation (measured by residential location, intergroup contacts, English language ability, and intermarriage rates)27
and immigrants' cultural assimilation (measured by ethnic identification and feelings of “social distance” from other groups).28 We see the influence of the human capital tradition in scholars' attempts to isolate the individual characteristics of immigrants that determine integration in U.S. society. For example, time spent in the United States increases immigrants' structural assimilation in terms of language acquisition, but not necessarily their cultural assimilation in terms of ethnic identification.The new sociological traditions are visible in scholars' attention to structural and contextual factors, such as the receiving labor market and immigrants' group-level traits. This new scholarship shows that successful incorporation is not inevitable and that when assessing immigrants' prospects for incorporation, the experiences of African Americans and other native minority groups must be considered alongside recent changes in U.S. society. For example, concern over “second-generation decline”—the possibility that children of some new immigrant groups will not achieve upward mobility like that of their European predecessors—has been formalized into segmented assimilation theory.29
“One of them replicates the time-honored portrayal of growing acculturation and parallel integration into the white middle-class; a second leads straight in the opposite direction to permanent poverty and assimilation into the underclass; still a third associates rapid economic advancement with deliberate preservation of the immigrant community's values and tight solidarity.” Portes and Zhou 1993, 82. See also Gans 1992; Portes and Rumbaut 2001.
The question of how new immigrants will affect American constructions of race and racial hierarchies leads us into the other two subfields of immigrant sociocultural research: immigrants' effects on American conceptions of race and intergroup hierarchy),30
Bean and Bell-Rose 1999; Bean and Stevens 2003; DeWind and Kasinitz 1997, 1105; Edmonston and Passel 1999; White and Glick 1999.
Bonilla-Silva 2004; Gans 1999; Gerstle and Mollenkopf 2001, 9; Hochschild 2005; Lee and Bean 2004; Raijman and Tienda 1999.
Furthermore, increasing immigration raises questions about the meaning and boundaries of national identity—as has happened throughout Western Europe against the backdrop of increasing Muslim immigration, and in the United States against the backdrop of increasing immigration from Spanish-speaking Latin America.32
Huntington 2004; Zolberg and Long 1999. Similar questions also apply to regional and local identities at lower levels of analysis, and more research on them is warranted.
Immigrants' individual characteristics do influence their incorporation into the hierarchies and identities of U.S. society. But we must develop more clearly the social and contextual determinants of this incorporation, including such things as the size of and demographic composition of destination locale, the relative power of groups and their migration status, class interests, existing cultural boundaries and identities, and local housing markets and educational and opportunity structures.33
This parallels the call for more attention to structural and contextual factors in immigrant economic incorporation research. To the extent that these factors can explain patterns in immigrants' social and cultural incorporation paths, traditional models that focus solely on the merits (or shortcomings) of individual immigrants are insufficient.We can likewise expand our original definition of economic integration to explain immigrant political incorporation as the process by which immigrants accumulate political experience in the U.S. polity as their tenure in the host country increases. Here again, scholars have attempted to understand political incorporation in terms of immigrants' individual characteristics, and more recently, the structural and contextual factors determining their location. Here again, I see four main subfields: electoral participation, nonelectoral participation, impact on the political resources and standing of established groups, and impact on the U.S. political structure.
Immigrants' electoral participation is measured by naturalization rates, voter turnout, financial contributions, attendance at political rallies, and employment in political parties or by candidates. Most research examines naturalization and voting rates, because naturalization is “a basic political act” for immigrants, voting is “the emblematic form of political participation in a participatory democracy,” and both are relatively easy to track with available data.34
Jones-Correa 2001a, 42.
Although results vary across studies and groups, show curvilinear effects, or show weaker effects for immigrants than natives, the same individual factors that increase electoral political participation among all Americans—namely age, education, and economic resources—generally do so for immigrants too. Education increases immigrants' naturalization and voting rates. Wendy K. Tam Cho argues this is because education and age “socialize” immigrants into greater participation in the U.S. political system.37
Sex and marital status exhibit inconsistent effects, although some studies find that immigrant women are more likely to naturalize than men, married immigrants are more likely to naturalize than nonmarried ones, Latin American women are more likely to naturalize and vote than either Latin American men or women from other regions of origin, and Asian American women exhibit very low rates of political participation.Scholars agree that, beyond these individual variables, others specific to the immigrant experience must be added to models examining immigrants' electoral behavior, including: foreign-born status, citizenship status, English language ability, length of time spent in the United States, age at migration, place of education, region or country of origin, generational status, and ties to the home country. In general, length of time spent in the United States increases immigrants' electoral participation, as do English language proficiency and younger age at migration. Those educated abroad tend to participate less, though ties to the home country exhibit either negative or no effects.
The literature in this subfield also shows that immigrants' individual characteristics affect their political incorporation, and researchers are guardedly optimistic that the electoral participation of their descendants will catch up to that of natives over time. Still, immigrants' group-level characteristics also matter. Race/ethnicity often influences immigrants' electoral behavior even after controlling for other variables; sometimes specific national- or regional-origin differences remain.38
For example, Mexican immigrants are less likely to naturalize than others, after controlling for other variables.39 And even though generational status frequently increases immigrants' electoral participation, Karthick Ramakrishnan and Thomas Espenshade find declining voter turnout between long-term naturalized Latin American immigrants and later-generation Latinos, and between second- and third-generation Asian Americans—patterns that differ from those of whites and blacks. Similarly, others have found declining voter turnout between naturalized black and Latino immigrants and their later-generation counterparts, suggesting that blacks and Latinos (but not whites or Asians) may be experiencing a political variant of downward assimilation.40 In sum, gaps in political participation by race or ethnicity, or regional and national origin, may persist over time. More optimistically, different groups may participate unequally in the U.S. political system, even if their participation rates increase over time along with their socioeconomic status. In this view, naturalization reflects “an individual relationship with the state” more so than nationality.41Cho 1999; DeSipio 2001, 76.
Structural or institutional factors also influence immigrants' electoral behavior. For example, Congress establishes immigration and naturalization policies, and noncitizenship produces an “absolute bar” to immigrants' electoral participation. More subtly, in the 1980s inconsistent bureaucratic treatment among INS offices created discrepancies in naturalization rates along regional and national origin lines.42
Aleinikoff 2001; Cho 1999, 1145; DeSipio 2001, 76; Pachón 1987, 308; Uhlaner, Cain, and Kiewiet 1989, 213. On March 1, 2003, service and benefit functions of the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) transitioned into the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) as the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS). See http://uscis.gov/graphics/aboutus/index.htm. I do not have knowledge of how this change has affected the bureaucratic treatment of immigrants.
Structural and institutional factors include incentive structures affecting immigrants' electoral behavior. A “neutral if not sometimes hostile [INS] bureaucracy” discouraged Hispanic immigrants from naturalizing in the 1970s and 1980s; in the 1990s, however, changes in INS rules and fees, and anti-immigrant policies enacted in California, increased immigrants' incentives to naturalize and vote.43
DeSipio 2001, 77–80; Pachón 1987: 306–7; Ramakrishnan and Espenshade 2001, 893.
Jones-Correa 2001b, 50.
Finally, opportunities for holding dual citizenship, engaging in transnational activity, and returning to the home country affect immigrants' electoral behavior, although results are mixed in the literature and warrant more research. Philip Yang finds that the possibility of return to one's country of origin is negatively related to naturalization; the shorter the distance between the United States and the country of origin, the less likely an immigrant is to naturalize.46
Yet Michael Jones-Correa finds that dual nationality laws are positively related to Latin American immigrants' naturalization and voting rates in the United States, most likely because they avoid the psychological cost of having to renounce one's previous nationality.47Jones-Correa 1998a, chap. 5; Jones-Correa 2000; Jones-Correa 2001a.
Contextual factors also affect immigrants' electoral behavior. Immigrants from socialist countries are more likely to naturalize than immigrants from nonsocialist ones, suggesting that economic and political controls in sending countries affects immigrants' subsequent electoral behavior in the United States. Political refugees are also more likely to naturalize than labor migrants, as are immigrants who leave their countries for political reasons, no matter what their status when they enter the United States. Thus immigrants motivated by wars, revolution, or religious persecution to leave their home countries also are more politically active.48
Ramakrishnan and Espenshade find that in the United States state political culture—measured by averaging states' histories of voter turnout—significantly affects the voting patterns of both naturalized and later-generation immigrants.49
In contrast, Jones-Correa finds no effect of state voter turnout on Latin American immigrants' naturalization and voting rates.50Jones-Correa 2001a; but Jones-Correa speculates that this is because its effects are picked up by related institutional factors in his model, notably variation in voter registration requirements among the U.S. states.
Either way, if patterns in immigrants' electoral participation can be explained as some function of these structural/institutional or contextual factors, at any level of analysis, then traditional models of immigrant political participation based solely on individualistic analyses of immigrants' characteristics are helpful yet insufficient. Only comparative research, especially at the state and local levels where structural/institutional and contextual factors vary, can help determine whether (or not) they play a role in immigrants' electoral political participation. If they do, the next questions for research are how, to what degree, and why. For example, as institutional agents of incorporation, political parties should strongly affect whether and how new immigrants are incorporated into politics.52
However, several scholars have questioned this claim. According to this view, not only have the capacities of political parties declined in their capacities over the past century, but also they have only actively incorporated immigrants under competitive situations, while contemporary party politics, especially at the state and local levels, is increasingly noncompetitive. Many scholars worry in fact that current immigrants are negatively affected by the absence of political bosses and party machines.53DeSipio 2001, 86–91; Erie 1988; Jones-Correa 1998a; Jones-Correa 2005, 77–79; Sterne 2001.
de la Garza, Menchaca, and DeSipio 1994. Jones-Correa (1998a) describes how new Latin American immigrants remain on the margins of political life in Queens, New York, because an entrenched Democratic Party machine fears that mobilizing them might upset the current balance of power (chap. 4; de la Garza 2004, 101).
Shefter 1994, quoted in Gerstle and Mollenkopf 2001, 26, 44.
Jones-Correa 2005, 79.
Still, political parties could play a major role in increasing immigrant political participation. Mobilization by a political party predicts more voter registration, consistent turnout, and, among Asian Americans, political participation beyond voting. When political parties contact Latinos, electoral participation increases significantly. Especially in Miami, “the presence of strong political party organizations seems to have had a substantial impact on Latino voter registration and turnout.”57
Calvo and Rosenstone 1989, quoted in Hero 1992, 63, 70–71; DeSipio 1996a, 96–99; Lien, Conway, and Wong 2004, 214. .
Finally, local demographic composition is another contextual factor that influences immigrants' political behavior, although the evidence on just how is contradictory.59
de la Garza 2004, 97.
Mollenkopf, Olson, and Ross 2001, 44; Saito 1998; Yang 1994, 472.
Portes and Curtis 1987, 365.
de la Garza 2004, 97–102; de la Garza, Menchaca, and DeSipio 1994; DeSipio 2001, 96–98.
Ramakrishnan and Espenshade find little effect either way of coethnic residential concentration on immigrants' voting rates, suggesting that other factors (such as high poverty and noncitizenship rates) are driving low voter turnout in places where Hispanics are concentrated.63
In Los Angeles County, “living amidst large numbers of immigrants clearly dampened the turnout rate among registered voters in the 1996 presidential election,” while “turnout rates among registered voters in immigrant areas [of New York City] were somewhat higher, all other things being equal.” The authors attribute part of this difference to the balance between immigrants and natives and between major racial groups. In Los Angeles, whites dominate the political landscape, the native stock is comprised primarily of whites and blacks, and both whites and blacks are predominantly of native stock; these patterns reinforce interethnic conflict along the lines of nativity. In New York, by contrast, both the immigrant and native populations are racially diverse, so that “differences in immigrant heritage cut across racial and ethnic distinctions rather than reinforce them.”64 These differences in demographic composition between New York and Los Angeles, particularly among the eligible electorate, create different incentives for the dominant group to form coalitions with new immigrants.Again, if patterns in immigrants' electoral participation can be explained as some function of structural/institutional or contextual factors, including variation in political party mobilization, immigrant and coethnic concentration levels, or racial and ethnic composition, traditional models of immigrant political participation based solely on individualistic analyses of immigrants' characteristics are helpful yet insufficient. Only comparative research that is designed to take these factors into account and test for their effects empirically will advance the research agenda
Immigrants' nonelectoral participation is measured by lobbying, litigation, petitioning, protesting, boycotting, civil disobedience, contacting public officials and the media, working with neighbors in noncampaign group-related community work, and joining institutions such as labor unions, churches, or voluntary associations and nonprofit groups. Clearly this sort of participation is multifaceted: it illustrates how people engage with their neighbors;65
Oliver 2001, 21.
Saito 1998, chap. 3; Verba, Schlozman, and Brady 1995.
Nonelectoral politics is especially crucial to immigrants' political mobilization since, as a group, they are disproportionately excluded from electoral politics by U.S. naturalization laws and face an additional “cost” to voting compared with natives. Consequently, immigrants may rely more extensively on nonelectoral forms of political activity to express their interests. Nonelectoral institutions may also simply be the most likely places where immigrants learn about the political system and are exposed to opportunities for participation.68
de la Garza 2004, 94–95; Jones-Correa and Leal 2001; Lien 1994, 246; Sterne 2001.
Jones-Correa 2005, 75–76.
de la Garza 2004, 95; Lien, Conway, and Wong 2004, chap. 5; Uhlaner, Cain, and Kiewiet 1989, 200.
As with electoral participation, scholars have focused primarily on individual characteristics that affect immigrants' nonelectoral political behavior. Generally, the same variables increase immigrants' electoral and nonelectoral participation, although age does not increase the latter among noncitizens or some minority groups. For example, education matters more for voting than for nonelectoral behavior among Asian Americans, yet income is positively related to their participation in various nonelectoral activities. And while Latinos participate less in nonelectoral activities than both whites and blacks, it is primarily due to differences in education and income levels, not ethnicity.71
Immigrant-specific variables also affect immigrants' nonelectoral behavior; “as with the electoral activities, controlling for citizenship of Latinos and Asians greatly reduced the disparity between their [nonelectoral] activity rates and those of whites and blacks.”72
In other studies, citizenship seems less important; Louis DeSipio found no effect of U.S. citizenship on Mexican and Cuban Americans' involvement in community organizations or parental involvement in schools, while in another study, once other factors are considered, “citizens are no more likely to participate than noncitizens in activities beyond voting that do not require citizenship.”73DeSipio 1996b; Lien, Conway, and Wong 2004, 169 (emphasis in the original).
Considering structural factors, some scholars argue that immigrants' political behavior is influenced more by the openness of American politics than their individual characteristics. For example, Evelyn Savidge Sterne argues that “old” German and Scandinavian immigrants in the mid-nineteenth century were incorporated into the polity faster than “new” southern and eastern European ones in the early twentieth century in part because they entered a polity in which most immigrants could vote and the political culture was still “vibrant and accessible.” “New” immigrants, in contrast, entered the country when land was scarcer, available jobs were dangerous and poorly paid, new restrictions on immigrants' right to vote were being imposed, and the political culture had become “distant and bureaucratic.”76
Sterne 2001, 35–39.
Related contextual factors that affect political action include the existence and strength of labor unions, churches, and voluntary organizations in immigrants' locales. These institutions work in parallel to party machines; immigrants can develop the skills to participate in nonelectoral activities even when barred from formally participating in parties or when parties have little incentive to incorporate them. For example, although American membership in unions has been declining, unionizing among immigrant workers in the service sector has been comparatively intense.77
Jones-Correa 2005; 79–80.
de la Garza 2004, 97, 100; Jones-Correa and Leal 2001; Lien, Conway, and Wong 2004, 166–70.
As in the past, churches and voluntary organizations may be particularly important for female immigrants' political participation. Building on findings that gender structures immigrants' organizational activity, Jones-Correa found that women have more contact with American governmental institutions, especially through their children, and are “disproportionately represented as the appointed mediators between [American] governmental institutions and other immigrants.”79
Jones-Correa 1998b, 340; de la Garza 2004, 104.
DeSipio 2001, 69, 90–91.
Scholars have focused on the determinants of immigrants' political participation at the expense of larger questions about how immigrants affect the U.S. polity or other established groups. Nevertheless, the question remains: as immigrants enter the United States and start to naturalize, vote, and participate, how will they affect the behavior of political parties, political elites, and governing coalitions? Will immigrants encourage political institutions and actors to incorporate them or to exclude them? Will they encourage competition or cooperation and coalition building, especially among minority groups?81
In Miami, for example, Cuban economic and political gains have eclipsed those of African Americans, intensified interethnic conflict, and fueled the latter's sense of displacement.82Grenier and Castro 2001; Hero 1992, 153–54.
Hero 1992, chaps. 7–8; Jones-Correa 2001b, 13.
The increasing number of foreign-born individuals living in the United States without full political rights raises questions about the representation of their interests in a “working” liberal democracy. Issues of political inequality, national political and civic identity, and regional and local identity are becoming more pressing as the number of immigrants in the United States expands, and as the number of places where U.S. natives live and interact with them grows too.84
Two trends characterize all three fields of immigrant incorporation research. First, more attention is being paid to immigrants as distinguished from traditional U.S. racial minority groups. More precisely, analyses of U.S. minority groups are paying more attention to their immigrant members, examining the relationship between immigrant and native members of their groups more seriously, and asking how well the experiences of new immigrants who are categorized as racial minorities fit traditional incorporation or racializiation theories.
Second, scholars in all three fields are increasingly emphasizing the effects of structural and contextual factors on immigrants' experiences and outcomes. They can take advantage of dispersal trends to advance this research agenda. Since “[I]mmigrant incorporation is likely to be uneven, varying by institution, by group, and by generation, among other things…. We need more comparisons across groups, across place, across institutional levels, and across time periods.”85
Jones-Correa 2005, 88.
Past European immigrants settled predominantly in the Northeast and Midwest, past Mexican and Asian immigrants, in the West. With the exception of Florida and Illinois—and considering Texas as part of the Southwest—current immigrants settle predominantly in the Northeast and West. These broad settlement patterns call for more comparisons across the four regions; they also call for comparisons between the Northeast and West (established regions of settlement among current immigrants) versus the Midwest and South (new regions of settlement among current immigrants).
For example, regional comparisons may be useful indicators of different reception contexts. General Social Survey (GSS) data illustrate that citizens living in the Midwest are more receptive to immigrants than those living in the South Atlantic region and in large metropolitan areas of California and Texas.86
In addition, both Benjamin Deufel and David Griffith find less proactive reactions to immigrants in their Southern than Midwestern field sites, which they attribute to some combination of regional differences in economic growth (higher in the South than the Midwest), population loss (higher in the Midwest than the South), racial homogeneity of the local population (higher in the Midwest than the South) and civic vitality (higher in the rural Midwest than the rural South).87 To the extent that “red” and “blue” states are also divided along crude regional lines, and that immigrants adapt to their local political culture, broad differences in political cultures and ideologies may also influence how are socialized into political activity across regions; likewise, it may influence how U.S. natives respond to them across regions.However, William Frey suggests a different breakdown of “region” because 2000 census data show “a fading of [rural-suburban-urban] local cultural boundaries in favor of increasing sharp regional ones,” and that “these new regional divisions are being shaped by very different immigration and domestic migration flows.” Immigrants are concentrated in and dominate population growth in the “melting pot” states of California, New York, Texas, Florida, Illinois, and New Jersey. In contrast, whites and blacks have dominated population growth in the “New Sunbelt” states of the South Atlantic and Pacific West (despite increasing levels of Hispanics and Asian Americans there too), while other northeastern and midwestern states and a few southern and western states lagging in population growth are the least racially diverse and have witnessed little Hispanic or Asian American population growth. Consequently, Frey argues, “while the Melting Pot region provides the intensity, ethnic diversity, and close contact that used to be associated only with cities, the New Sunbelt offers a quieter setting, large lot sizes, and local control that have always attracted people to suburbs, and […] large swaths of the Heartland region now replicate the older, more conservative rural areas of the past.”88
Frey 2002, 349, 354–55.
Immigrants may also be strongly affected by smaller-scale influences. In an ongoing research project,89
Data come from ethnographic research and 129 semistructured interviews conducted by the author between June 2003 and June 2004 with Latin American immigrants, U.S.-born Hispanics, and white and black “key native informants” in Bedford and Wilcox counties, two nonmetropolitan “new immigrant destination” counties in North Carolina. All names of interview subjects and places east of Interstate 95 are pseudonyms.
And we're not the only state that's in this problem. Virginia—I think they topped $3 million this year. I was reading an article in the paper yesterday. Three million dollars. And they don't have money to run their programs, so they haven't even tested interpreters the past three years in a row.
By this logic, immigrants living in North Carolina and Virginia encounter different reception contexts as measured by the availability of certified court interpreters; David Griffith makes a similar argument in terms of labor law enforcement.90
Griffith 2005, 50–51.
We are fortunate in that we had a system of accountability that looks at the bottom line, which is student learning. So, it would have been easier for immigrant kids to get lost in the shuffle without that. So I think that North Carolina has, for a state that had not experienced immigration, I think we have done a remarkable job of responding to that at the state level with policies and, you know, at least compared to our neighbors—to some of our neighbors—we're ahead.
Interstate comparisons may be especially important in the political realm, where “the federal structure of the U.S. political system places state governments in a major—some would even say primary—role as policymakers and political institutions in the domestic arena of U.S. government” and where “local governments … are created and shaped by state governments.”91
Hero 1992, 99.
“[U]nlike other programs receiving public funding, a 1982 Supreme Court decision [Plyer vs. Doe] ruled that public schools could not use immigration legal status as a criterion for admission.” Dunn, Aragonés, and Shivers 2005, 172; Martin 1995, 257.
One exception is research examining state-level variation in immigrants' access to social services following the welfare and immigration reforms of 1996. Similar research can be conducted using variation in state policies regarding labor law enforcement, immigrants' access to driver's licenses, immigrants' access to higher educational facilities, and so forth.
Some immigrant incorporation research in all three disciplines examines traditional immigrant-receiving states (California, New York, Texas, and so forth) or compares one with the others (to gauge the effect of California's anti-immigrant legislation and climate during the 1990s, and so forth), but more comparisons among traditional immigrant-receiving states could be helpful. In addition, grouping states according to their immigration histories could be useful since Roberto Suro and Sonya Tafoya find that comparing “traditional Latino settlement states” with “new Latino settlement states” highlights important differences in Latinos' neighborhood residential patterns that affect their social environments.95
Their analysis could be expanded to other immigrant and minority groups, and other potential differences. Grouping states according to their demographic characteristics, particularly their percentages of immigrants or other minority groups, could also prove useful for conceptualizing state-level reception contexts since these are considered to be important contextual factors affecting immigrant incorporation.96Rodney Hero suggests two additional possible comparisons: between states' political ideologies, measured by residents' self-identification on a liberal-conservative continuum, and between political cultures, measured as individualist/moralist/traditionalist, which may affect minority groups' political success. He speculates that states with moralist political cultures (with their presumed concern for the collective good) will be most conductive to minority political influence, that states with traditionalist political cultures (with their focus on maintaining the status quo) will be most detrimental to it, and that states where residents self-identify as more liberal will lie somewhere in between.97
Hero 1992, 105.
Immigrants may also be influenced by reception contexts within states. For example, GSS data show that citizens living in metropolitan areas are more receptive toward immigrants than are their nonmetropolitan counterparts, and state-level survey data from Minnesota and North Carolina find more negative public opinion toward immigrants in rural than in urban areas.98
I have found that living in a rural area or a small town rather than a large city often matters more to immigrants' experiences and opportunities than being in the “South” or in North Carolina. For example, Diana, a Puerto Rican corrections officer in eastern North Carolina, argues that racial profiling likely differs between urban and rural areas:
[The racial/ethnic profiling of Hispanics or immigrants] would probably happen more in a rural area. The person before he or she are stopped, they probably already know that person from working in such and such [agricultural] camp. I driving my vehicle, for example, I have my Puerto Rican flag hanging from my windshield, you know, from my frontview mirror. So the question of, “Are you documented or not?” should never come up. But I think it does. Because the person is already … the officer already knows the answer. Mmm … probable cause should have already been in place when he stopped them. You know? Prior to that question. So I think it happens. But I think it happens more in rural places.
Ashley also reports a more negative context of reception in rural than urban North Carolina as measured by the availability of certified court interpreters. Compared to the dense metropolitan areas in the central Piedmont part of the state, rural areas in the eastern part of the state face a serious dearth of certified court interpreters; in fact, as of 2003–4 only one state-certified Spanish interpreter resided east of Interstate 95. Ashley maintains this is because the rural east has fewer “qualified” bilingual people to become certified, and also because the certification program is only offered in Raleigh. Regardless of the reasons, immigrants residing in the rural east benefit from far fewer resources than those in the urban Piedmont, a distinction that other scholars studying immigration in rural areas uphold in various service arenas.99
Millard and Chapa 2004, 51–53.
On the other hand, several respondents in my research report better opportunities and treatment by Americans outside cities. One is Inés, an immigrant from Medellín, Colombia:
Respondent:
Bedford is a very small town. I come from a very big city…. Or like, the difference was very big. Arriving to such a small town. But since the moment that I stepped off that plane, you don't know how much I liked it! I loved coming to this country, and when I arrived here to Bedford, I loved Bedford. The town fascinated me. I loved it…. The town, the town's form, the people are so nice. Everyone said hello to me, and no one knew me yet, and everyone said hello to me. I loved that… .
Interviewer:
In your experience, are there any differences you see or have heard of between Americans who live in the South of the United States and Americans who live in other parts of the United States?
Respondent:
I would say it's the fact that this is a small town…. I think you have more opportunity in small towns that they don't give you in cities. In large cities, there are too many Hispanics. There are too many problems…. And I think coming to these small towns is a lot better. Even more so when you have small children. (Inés, Bedford County)
As these responses show, while metropolitan status may indeed be important for conceptualizing reception contexts, it is not yet clear to what degree or in what direction. For example, Lourdes Gouveia, Miguel Carranza, and Jasney Cogua found that “while it is true that nonmetropolitan communities tend to suffer from an even more serious lack of institutions and programs responding proactively to new immigration [in Nebraska], … attitudes that could hinder or facilitate incorporation did not always line up neatly along this urban-rural divide.”100
That observation echoes my respondents' complex and often contradictory views.101Comparisons by metropolitan status may even be good indicators of reception context in traditional immigrant destinations. Might we expect the experiences of immigrants living in rural New York to better resemble those of their counterparts in rural Minnesota or Alabama than Manhattan? With their “distinctive spatial layout and politics,” could suburbs' political cultures or structures differ enough from those in central cities to change our understanding of how immigrants fit into local politics,102
Jones-Correa 2005, 90; Oliver 2001.
Yet so far most immigrant incorporation research has been conducted in the major metropolitan areas, including the most informative studies on the “second generation”103
See Kasinitz, Mollenkopf, and Waters 2002 on New York City; Portes and Rumbaut 2001 on Miami and San Diego. A third study of the new second generation in Los Angeles is currently underway under the direction of Rubén G. Rumbaut, Frank D. Bean, Leo Chavez, Min Zhou, Jennifer Lee, Susan (Wierzbicki) Brown, and Louis Desipio.
Lien, Conway, and Wong 2004, 25–27. However, a new Latino National Survey (LNS) of approximately 9,000 Latinos using a state-stratified design was conducted in summer 2005 under the direction of Luís Fraga, John García, Rodney Hero, Michael Jones-Correa, Valerie Martínez-Ebers, and Gary Segura. The results of this survey will provide rich data with which to compare Latinos' experiences across (most) states, including some low-density ones where Latinos are primarily rural residents.
Finally, demographic composition will likely factor into all of these comparisons. How might immigrants fare differently in areas where a single racial group dominates versus in those where no group does? What about places where there are more versus fewer immigrants or coethnics, or more or fewer African Americans? In my research, some Hispanic respondents report that fewer coethnics in eastern North Carolina makes adaptation more difficult, but others—like Felipe, a “1.5-generation” immigrant from Oaxaca, Mexico, whose family migrated to North Carolina via Chicago in the early 1990s—report precisely the opposite:
In my last two years when I—I would say after a year, maybe a year and a half—I spoke very fluently. That's because I had to. Because I met kids in Chicago that said they'd been living there for about three or four years, and they couldn't speak English. Because in bigger towns, bigger cities—honestly, I had family that lived [in Chicago] for twenty years, and they don't speak English because they never have to. Because everything's there [in Spanish] already. And here [in eastern North Carolina] you don't, so we learned it. We did it. (Felipe, Wilcox County)
And Davíd, an immigrant from Medellín, Colombia, speculates that larger numbers of African Americans increase black-Hispanic conflict in the South: “Like I said before, I feel the blacks don't like us. And that it is worse than with the whites.” These are just two examples of how variation in demographic composition may influence the course of immigrant incorporation across the country. According to Felipe, rural new destination areas with low levels of immigrant/coethnic concentration ease the English language acquisition process compared to major immigrant-receiving cities. According to Davíd, who resides in a majority-black county in eastern North Carolina, intergroup tensions are intensified by the larger number of African Americans residing in the U.S. South compared to other regions of the country. However, comparative research on how demographic composition affects immigrants' experiences outside traditional immigrant-receiving cities is still in its infancy. Felipe and Davíd's responses represent two out of many competing (and still contested) hypotheses; the broad patterns have yet to be mapped out in any definitive way.
De la Garza has noted the need to “go beyond conventional survey research and incorporate institutional variables, such as local- and state-level institutions and indicators of ethnic residential concentration, to develop a full picture of the dynamics of immigrant incorporation.” A next step, he adds, is to develop new surveys to reflect the new demography of the nation.107
de la Garza 2004, 108, 115.