Hispanic Heritage celebrations as resistance, joy, and community-building

Every September 15 to October 15, Hispanic Heritage Month gives us a chance to honor the histories, cultures, and contributions of Americans whose ancestors came from Spain, Mexico, the Caribbean, and Central and South America. It began in 1968 as Hispanic Heritage Week, established by President Lyndon B. Johnson in response to calls from Latino leaders like Rep. Edward Roybal of California. Johnson’s roots in Texas gave him a political connection to Mexican American communities. But his record was complicated: while he presided over landmark civil rights legislation, he also further entrenched inequalities that continued to impact Latinos.

Two decades later, in 1988, President Ronald Reagan signed a law expanding the observance to a full month. Like LBJ, he holds a complicated legacy with Latino communities. Reagan promoted visibility while his administration pushed policies that harmed Latino workers, opposed bilingual education, and expanded immigration enforcement.

In that sense, the history of Hispanic Heritage Month reflects a broader American pattern: visibility is extended even as inequalities persist. Recognition has rarely been freely given. Rather, it has been demanded, fought for, and carried forward by the people themselves — through art, language, food, faith, and daily acts of survival and joy.

There’s a common joke in Hispanic communities that we didn’t even get a “full” month, since the celebration starts halfway through one month and ends halfway through another. But the mid-September start date aligns with the independence anniversaries of Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua on September 15, followed closely by Mexico on September 16 and Chile on September 18.

This month has been a time for parades, festivals, educational events, and family gatherings — a month that, at its core, is as much about pride as it is about presence, a public affirmation that Latino communities are here and central to the American story.

Yet this year, those celebrations are running headfirst into our deeply tense political climate. Across the country, Hispanic Heritage Month events have been scaled back, postponed, or canceled. Organizers point to rising costs and safety concerns, but also to the sharp divisions fueled by debates over immigration, enforcement, and larger conversations about who belongs and who does not. These divisions have created not just hostility, but also the very real threat of violence, leaving cultural gatherings and those who celebrate feeling deeply vulnerable.

When an event is canceled, it’s more than an item deleted from a calendar. It feels like a silencing.

Pennsylvania is home to one of the fastest-growing Latino populations in the country. Between 2010 and 2020, the state’s Latino population grew by nearly 45%, with the Lehigh Valley at the heart of that change. In Allentown (where I call home), Latinos now make up about 54% of the city’s residents. Nearby Bethlehem is about 29% Latino, and Easton about 25%, reflecting communities with deep roots in Puerto Rican, Dominican, and Mexican heritage — alongside growing Central and South American populations, including Colombian, Guatemalan, and Honduran communities.

The vibrancy of Allentown — from bilingual festivals to salsa nights to family-owned taquerías and bodegas — is a living reminder that Hispanic culture is central to the story of our region. The same is true in Bethlehem and Easton, where Latino presence and business ownership continue to grow. Yet even in these cities, celebrations remain vulnerable to politics, funding challenges, and arguments about whose culture and history deserve recognition.

Despite the challenges, Hispanic Heritage Month remains a vital moment for visibility and for belonging. With Latinos now representing nearly one in five Americans, celebrating Hispanic voices is not just symbolic — it’s essential. This month, while sometimes dismissed as performative, affirms identities that are too often attacked and insists these stories belong in the public square.

(Of course, the same holds true beyond Hispanic Heritage Month: Black History Month, Pride Month, Asian Pacific American Heritage Month, Women’s History Month — each offers a time to honor resilience, educate each other on our histories, and build solidarity across lines of difference.)

Despite the political and personal attacks on those labeled different, heritage is not something that disappears when politics fail to honor it. It lives in the people, not in proclamations. Hispanic Heritage Month is alive in every mural painted in downtown Allentown, every bachata track played at a Bethlehem block party, every family gathering in Easton celebrated around arroz con gandules or tamales. Celebrating culture in a tense political climate is, in itself, an act of resilience — a declaration that joy, pride, and community cannot be silenced.

We are here, we endure, and we will keep the music playing and the dancing alive. ¡Wepa!

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month, mi gente. 💙