Latino

The pet did a neat trick: Before a room filled with heads of state from across Latin America, Little Marco spoke Spanish.

His owner — well, his soul’s owner at least— grinned and joked, “I think he’s better in Spanish” than in English. Following President Trump, it was Pentagon Pete’s turn to tease Little Marco.

“I only speak American,” Secretary of Defense Hegseth cracked. The auditorium stayed quiet save for Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who meekly protested, “I only speak Cuban.”

Trump gave him a pat on the back. Good boy, Marco.

The exchange, which happened over a weekend dominated by the war with Iran, was brief yet said so much about the times Latinos live in. Rubio, the most powerful Latino politician in U.S. history, might as well have been to Trump and Hegseth the Chihuahua that says “Yo quiero Taco Bell.” The man who has played an oversized role in pushing a president who campaigned against costly foreign wars and chaotic regime changes to do both was brought back down to an undignified size.

Little Marco indeed.

Here’s a reminder that no matter how high and mighty you get in Trump’s White House, a Latino is still an exotic “other.”

Tokenizing someone is always an ugly thing — yet Rubio deserves no tears. He has made a career out of wearing his latinidad like a shiny guayabera when convenient, long casting himself as the boy-faced exception to the corrupt, ineffectual Latino politician archetype. That stance has fueled a 27-year career — Florida speaker of the House, U.S. senator, former presidential candidate, secretary of State and national security advisor. That has made many conservatives and more than a few Latinos feel he’s not just capable of a strong White House run but that he could even win were he to do so.

All it cost Rubio was his morals and backbone. All he had to do was roll over.

We Latinos deserve better — and yet we kind of don’t.

The story liberals and conservatives have always told about America’s largest minority is that we would irrevocably change the United States — the former group maintained it would be for the better, the latter insisted we would cause this country’s downfall. Rubio proves that at our worst, Latinos show that in our rush to assimilate and be embraced, we often become the worst kind of Americans.

Secretary of State Marco Rubio speaks as President Trump during a NATO summit in June in the Hague.

(Brendan Smialowski / Pool Photo)

We’re the ones whom the American psyche sees as perpetual invaders, yet we sign up by the thousands for the Border Patrol, Immigration and Customs Enforcement and other agencies in Trump’s deportation Leviathan. Even as Trump slimed Latinos during his first term and his years out of office, an increasing number of us warmed up to him — surely, he was referring to other Latinos — until Trump captured more of our votes in 2024 than any Republican presidential candidate ever.

It takes a certain type of person to go from child of Cuban immigrants — the favorite son of an exile community that transformed Miami from a retiree haven into one of the capitals of Latin America — to tell European leaders last month that they and the United States “opened our doors to an unprecedented wave of mass migration that threatens the cohesion of our societies, the continuity of our culture, and the future of our people.”

It takes the worst kind of Latino.

I called Rubio a vendido in a previous columna after he cheered on the extrajudicial capture of Venezuelan despot Nicolás Maduro. He’s definitely still a sellout — what else to call someone who once fiercely opposed Trump but now sidles up to him like a cockapoo? But the most pathetic part about Rubio’s rise is that his followers see him as the culmination of the long-held dreams of Latinos that things would become better for our ancestral Latin American countries and ourselves once one of us was charge.

Alas, no. He’s living up to a realpolitik maxim attributed to various Latin American caudillos: For my friends, everything; for my enemies, the law.

Strongmen like El Salvador and Argentina presidents Nayib Bukele and Javier Milei get coddled and receive foreign aid; college students on study visas who criticize the Trump administration get nabbed by la migra. Rubio is overseeing a foreign policy that currently has the U.S. dictating how Venezuela will be governed, is bombing Iran like the country was a game of Pachinko and is slowly choking Cuba into collapse. He’s the unholy child of Bush-era neoconservativism and MAGA — and Rubio is just getting started.

That’s how he set himself up to be used as Latino punch line by Trump and Hegseth. The setting: the inaugural meeting at a Trump golf course near Miami of the Shield of the Americas, a coalition of Western Hemisphere countries ostensibly assembled to fight drug cartels. It resembled one of those lesser super-groups in the Marvel Cinematic Universe — you got Costa Rica instead of Mexico, Bolivia instead of Brazil. The group even has a crappy logo. You know how unserious the confab was when Trump’s point person for this is Kristi Noem, whom he literally had just fired as Homeland Security secretary.

After Trump rambled through a short speech, it was Rubio’s time to offer remarks. Here was a chance for the secretary of State, the man the Atlantic recently called “bright and well spoken,” to channel his inner Simón Bolivar or José Martí. The secretary of State thanked everyone present in English, but not before praising Trump for his “bold leadership” and bragging that the president is “one of the most historic figures in American history.”

Then Rubio looked back at his beaming master.

President Trump signs a proclamation committing to countering cartel criminal activity at the Shield of the Americas Summit on Saturday at Trump National Doral Miami in Doral, Fla.

(Rebecca Blackwell / Associated Press)

“You all right if I — “ he began before Trump cut him off with a magnanimous, “Sure. Please.”

That’s when Little Marco spoke in flawless Spanish. Rubio’s comments weren’t much different from what he said in English, save his remark that what they all planned to do by following Trump “will make future generations grateful for the work we are doing today.”

That last statement sums up Rubio. For centuries, Latin America has yearned for prosperity and peace free from American interference. This hope has fueled revolutions, music, film, culture and all the best things the region has produced only to have U.S.-backed tyrants crush those movements.

That’s the torch Rubio now proudly carries.

“All my life I’ve been in a hurry to get to my future,” he wrote in his 2013 memoir, “American Son.” Rubio’s future is now. And our present — not just Latinos, but all Americans — is worse because of it.

Dios mío.

LIFE Film Festival (Latina Independent Film Extravaganza) returns to Los Angeles this week for its 13th year. Founded by “Real Women Have Curves” playwright Josefina López, the festival will screen over 60 short films and four feature movies at Casa 0101 in Boyle Heights, and for the first time at Cinépolis in Pico Rivera.

From Thursday to Sunday, LIFE Film Festival will offer a series of workshops and networking opportunities where aspiring filmmakers will have a chance to learn from Latinas in Hollywood, like Emmy Award-winning editor Michelle Tesoro, who worked on Netflix’s “The Queen’s Gambit” and the 2023 film “Maestro.”

Since López founded LIFE Film Festival in 2013, her commitment remains the same: to celebrate Latino stories in cinema and empower the next generation of Latina filmmakers.

As a Chicana screenwriter and producer for over 30 years, López knows firsthand the underrepresentation of Latinos in Hollywood films. “Latinos are the majority here in California, and we’re still rendered invisible, even though the industry is right in our backyard,” López said. “They just really don’t want to invest in our stories.”

According to UCLA’s 2025 Hollywood Diversity Report, which looked at the 104 top-performing English-language movies released in 2024, only 1% of leading roles went to Latinos; less than 5% of directors were Latino; and approximately 2% of writers were Latino in last year’s top movies. Latinos make up nearly 20% of the U.S. population.

When it comes to gender, the disparities were even more glaring. There were zero Latina directors and screenwriters in the top theatrical movie releases of 2024. In front of the camera, the numbers weren’t that much better. Less than 1 in 50 movie roles went to Latinas.

“I never knew anybody in my family who was a screenwriter, and now I’m a WGA screenwriter and I’m giving back to my community,” LIFE Film Festival co-director Cristina Nava said. “I could be the tia [to] one of these filmmakers.”

López’s response to underrepresentation extends beyond opening doors. With LIFE, she says she wants to support storytellers who are challenging Latino stereotypes. “There are all sorts of Latinos,” López said. “Yes, we are the immigrants, the servants, but we’re more than that.”

Every year, LIFE recognizes a Latina moviemaker whose work has reshaped representation within the entertainment industry, with the Lupe Ontiveros Award.

Created by López to honor the legendary Mexican American actress, the award is bestowed to a filmmaker whose work amplifies Latino voices. This year’s honoree is “Encanto” Oscar-winning producer Yvett Merino.

In her 35 year-long career, Ontiveros played the role of maids and housekeepers over 150 times. López believed that Hollywood was wasting her friend’s talents and promised to cast her as a more complex and interesting character.

López kept her word, casting Ontiveros as Carmen, the hardworking, hysterical mother in “Real Women Have Curves.” “We have to keep telling stories so that all these talented Latino actors have better opportunities than to play stereotypes,” she said.

It was the Los Angeles Hispanic Republican Club’s potluck party for President Trump’s State of the Union address, but there was a problem:

Not many Hispanics showed up. Or people, period.

About half of the the 20-some folks who trudged into the club’s Woodland Hills offices were Latino. Four of them were chairman David Hernandez and his family.

“People are sick, hurt, or fed up with politics,” the soft-spoken 77-year-old told me with a laugh before the speech began.

It was a dramatic turn from three years ago, when Trump reclaimed the White House with 48% of the Latino vote, the highest percentage ever captured by a Republican presidential candidate. A record number of California Latinos won legislative seats. The Hispanic Republican Club opened chapters in Ventura and Orange counties. Rodriguez now sits on the California Republican Party board of directors along with former Cudahy mayor and fellow club member Jack Guerrero.

How the quesadillas have flipped. CNN poll released earlier this week showed Latino support for Trump went from 41% last February to just 22% right now.

“It’s the visuals of those raids,” Hernandez acknowledged with a sigh. “It only makes sense that people will feel afraid. Some of our supporters and friends, they’re suffering.”

He turned to his vice chair, Tony Barragan, who reviews restaurants for the club’s weekly radio show. Near them, a table hosted three clipboards fat with paperwork for new members to fill. It had a total of one name. “How many of the places you’ve visited are feeling the crunch?”

“Half,” Barragan replied. His father came to the United States from Mexico illegally then became a pioneering Mexican restaurateur in Los Angeles.

“We gotta win the Hispanic vote. I hope that he [Trump] changes his approach and remembers that all men are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.”

Fat chance of that, Tony.

The cheers were muted as the State of the Union pageantry kicked off. When Trump claimed early on that “inflation is plummeting, incomes are rising fast, the roaring economy is roaring like never before,” only one club member offered a golf clap.

Maybe the audience knew that was just too big of a whopper.

No one seemed particularly animated in the beginning except Rolando Salmerón. He sat in the front cheering and fist-pumping and chanting “USA! USA!” every time Republicans gave Trump a standing ovation.

Los Angeles Hispanic Republican Club chairman David Hernandez hosts a political radio talk show at the studios of AM Radio 870 in Glendale in 2022.

(Luis Sinco / Los Angeles Times)

The electrical engineer, who gave his age as “over 1,000,” came to the United States from El Salvador illegally in 1975 but was now a citizen. He told me during dinner that Trump had done “more good in one year than Democrats ever did in 30” and especially supported his deportation deluge because MS-13 members assaulted and bullied his son during his high school years.

“Trump deported three million people — Obama deported way more,” said Salmerón. He wore a hat emblazoned with “FIGHT” over the famous photo of a bloodied Trump raising his fist just after a would-be assassin’s bullet grazed his ear. On the bill was an embroidered version of the president’s signature. “Unfortunately, the media that we have — including the L.A. Times — doesn’t say the truth.”

I mean, I think the truth is Trump’s deportation machine might not hesitate to hassle Señor Salmerón over here, like it has other Latinos, if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We watched Trump’s speech on Fox News, which kept cutting to unflattering shots of conservative scapegoats like Rep. Ilhan Omar and Sen. Elizabeth Warren. Those prompts uncorked snide comments from members — “Traitor!” someone yelled when the television flashed an image of Supreme Court Justice Amy Coney Barrett — that turned the atmosphere in the room from reserved to suddenly rollicking.

Hernandez, however, stayed silent.

While Trump bloviated about tariffs, the Hispanic Republican Club chair nibbled on dessert. As the triumphant U.S. men’s hockey team made a cameo, Hernandez was looking at his smartphone. Taxes, illegal immigration, foreign policy — nothing seemed to move Hernandez even as his fellow members got rowdier and rowdier. When Rep. Brad Sherman appeared on the screen, Hernandez finally said something: “There’s our congressman!”

But once Trump began to attack his enemies, Hernandez began to whisper comments with a smile to his daughter, who sat at the lonely check-in table. He laughed after the president gestured to the Democrats sitting glumly before him in the House of Representatives chambers and growled, “These people are crazy.” When Trump announced the awarding of Medals of Honors to a Korean War fighter pilot and a Marine who helped to capture former Venezuela dictator Nicolás Maduro, Hernandez — a Navy veteran — finally applauded.

I thought Trump’s speech, the longest State of the Union address ever, was a giant, xenophobic bore. So did viewers — a CNN survey found it was his worst-received State of the Union address ever and ranked even lower than any of Joe Biden’s attempts. But at the Hispanic Republic Club bash, we skeptics might as well been living in a different dimension.

“I liked the personal touch,” Hernandez told me after. “We need more of that. This is a marathon, not a sprint.”

“It was beautiful,” said 68-year-old Ricardo Benitez, who’s running for a state assembly seat in the San Fernando Valley and greeted Salmerón with a “¿Entonces, cipote? [What’s up, man?] — the only Spanish I heard all night. The Salvadoran immigrant was impressed by “how our president acknowledged victims of crime and how he freed Venezuela…He’s doing a good job regardless of what his enemies are saying.”

Benitez scoffed when I asked if he thought Trump’s immigration raids would cost Republicans Latino support in this year’s midterms.

“Democrats don’t know anything. They think the immigration raids will stop people from voting. That’s not true. Deportations have always happened. Obama deported more people.”

Various political flyers for various republican candidates sit on a table at the offices of L.A. Hispanic Republican Club on Tuesday in Woodland Hills.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

Nearby, Lani Kane helped to clear tables. “I like that [Trump] honored civilians and our military,” said the 50-year-old, whose T-shirt identified her as a daughter of a World War II veteran. “But in a way, I understand why Democrats don’t like him. The speech was all ‘I, I, I.’”

The Sylmar resident stayed quiet when I asked if she thought Latinos would stay with the GOP for the midterms and beyond.

“If Republicans can continue to promote our values and protect our youth and lower taxes, I hope they do,” Kane finally said.

But did she think they would? This time, Kane nodded vigorously.

“I think Hispanics are starting to wake up.”

Well, I agree with her there. But I don’t think they’re waking up the way Kane thinks.

When myself and a Times photographer thanked the group and left, the number of Latinos at the Los Angeles Hispanic Republican Club State of the Union potluck, already small, dropped by a quarter.