What Now? After Defectors, It’s Time for Latinx Communities to Reclaim Our Power
Paola Ramos’s latest book, Defectors, is a gut punch that brilliantly exposes something many of us have felt but haven’t always been able to articulate—a growing faction of Latinx folks shifting toward far-right ideologies. These movements, like MAGA, actively work against our communities. Yet, here we are, witnessing an increasing number of Latinx people align themselves with systems designed to marginalize us. As I sat with this reality after finishing the book, I kept asking myself: What now? What do we do with this? How do we begin to pull our people back from a cliff that threatens not just our political influence, but our very identity?
Ramos doesn’t sugarcoat it. She takes us deep into this troubling landscape, uncovering the stories of Latinx individuals who have, in one way or another, been radicalized into believing that their future lies in a system that was never meant for them. From underdog GOP candidates to January 6th insurrectionists, Defectors forces us to face this reality head-on. Ramos shows us that it’s not just about politics—it’s about identity, and it’s about survival. For many, it’s about finding power in spaces that were never designed for our empowerment.
But we know that this is a false sense of belonging. Time and time again, we’ve seen how these systems will uplift Black and Brown people only to use us as pawns, discarding us when it’s convenient. The promise of power in a white supremacist space is just that—a promise that will never be fulfilled. So, what now? How do we bring our people back into a space of true liberation, where we embrace our own power and take care of one another?
Understanding the Appeal of Whiteness—and Why It’s a Trap
To get to the root of this issue, we need to have some honest conversations about why so many in our community are being pulled toward the far right. Let’s be real: This isn’t a new phenomenon. It’s the result of centuries of conditioning—centuries of being told that the closer we are to whiteness, the more we’ll be accepted, respected, or safe. We’ve seen this play out in our own families, with sayings like “no dañes la raza” “don’t ruin the race” when someone dates or marries a darker-skinned person, or calling our beautiful curly hair greñas as if it’s something to be ashamed of. These are just small examples of how deeply rooted anti-Blackness and colorism are within our community, and how colonization continues to shape our identities.
Our people have been sold this idea that proximity to whiteness means survival, but what we don’t talk about enough is how this has only served to divide us. Whether it was the practice of Blanqueamiento in Latin America—where countries encouraged white immigration to “improve” and “whiten” the race—or the everyday pressures to straighten our hair into submission and lighten our skin, we’ve been pushed to internalize the idea that we must deny parts of ourselves to succeed.
But here’s the truth: Whiteness is not the answer. It never has been, and it never will be. No matter how much we try to assimilate or align ourselves with white supremacist ideologies, we will always be “othered.” We need to stop chasing an illusion, stop chasing this fantasy heritage and start reclaiming our roots. Our power lies not in how closely we can mirror whiteness, but in how deeply we can connect with and honor our Black and Indigenous ancestors.
Unlearning Anti-Blackness Is the First Step
If we want to stop this rightward shift, we need to start by unlearning the harmful narratives we’ve been fed for generations. This means taking a hard look at the ways anti-Blackness has seeped into our communities and actively working to dismantle it. We have to understand that anti-Blackness is anti-Latinidad. If we are truly going to stand in our power as Latinx people, we have to embrace the fullness of our identity, which includes our Black and Indigenous roots.
This unlearning isn’t easy. It means challenging the things we’ve heard from our elders, confronting the biases we may hold ourselves, and calling out colorism when we see it. But it’s necessary work. Without it, we will continue to fall into the traps of white supremacy, believing that there’s power in denying our own people.
Our history is rich with examples of how colonizers forced us to choose whiteness over our own cultures. But as we unlearn this, we must also relearn the beauty and strength of who we are. We are a tapestry of Black, Indigenous, and Brown cultures, and there is immense power in that. We just need to remember it.
Healing and Reclaiming Our Roots
Once we’ve begun the process of unlearning, we can start to heal. Healing is a critical part of this journey, both individually and collectively. We’ve spent centuries being told that who we are isn’t enough, that we need to be more like someone else to be worthy of respect and success. We have been taught that to be seen and heard we must look and act like whiteness. That kind of conditioning leaves deep wounds, but it also leaves room for healing.
Healing means celebrating our identities, loving our curls, our brown skin, our Indigenous, Black and diversely mixed traditions, and embracing the parts of ourselves that colonization tried to erase. It means finding spaces where we can gather, share our stories, and unlearn together. Affinity groups, racial healing circles, and trauma workshops can all help us process the pain we’ve inherited and begin to heal the fractures within our community.
At the heart of this healing is the recognition that we are stronger together. Solidarity isn’t just about showing up for one another in political movements—it’s about showing up for ourselves and each other in the everyday work of unlearning and healing. When we stand in our truth, we can create the kind of communities where everyone is seen, valued, and free.
What We Can Do Now
So, what now? How do we move our people toward liberation and inclusivity? Here are a few actionable steps:
Start Conversations: Begin having open conversations with family, friends, and community members about anti-Blackness, colorism, and the ways white supremacy has shaped our thinking. This isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. These dialogues are the foundation of change.
Support Healing Practices: Healing from centuries of internalized oppression is no small task, but it can be done through collective efforts. Join or create spaces for racial healing, affinity groups, or focus groups where we can process this trauma together.
Reclaim Our Identity: Engage in practices that help us reconnect with our Black, Brown, and Indigenous roots. Whether that’s through cultural celebrations, language reclamation, or simply learning more about our ancestors, this work is vital to reclaiming our full identity. It is crucial for us to feel seen and heard in a society that has consistently forced us to assimilate and be seen through the eyes of whiteness and not our own.
Move through Action: Joining groups that support your identities where you can learn from each other's experiences can guide your learning. Join political movements, church spaces, community settings that bring you back to understanding and being seen within your culture.
Challenge Supremacy Culture: In every space—whether it’s in your home, workplace, or community—challenge the ways white supremacy shows up. Call it out, disrupt it, and actively work to create spaces where Black, Brown, and Indigenous people can thrive.
SimplyLead: Our Work in Conflict Liberation
At SimplyLead, we focus on conflict liberation because we understand that conflict is at the root of so much of this pain. Whether it’s personal conflict, organizational/group conflict, or the larger conflict of supremacy culture, our work helps people and organizations recognize how these cycles of conflict keep us stuck.
Through our framework, we help individuals and communities understand the layers of conflict they’re experiencing, how those conflicts tie back to systems of oppression, and how to break free from them. This work is key to getting back to our roots and understanding how supremacy culture has stifled our ability to be fully free. By liberating ourselves from these cycles, we can begin to create spaces where Black and Brown people are no longer pitted against each other, but instead stand together in solidarity and strength.
Now is the time for us to act. Ramos’s Defectors is a wake-up call, but it’s not the end of the story, this is only the beginning. We have the power to shift our community away from the right and toward a future rooted in liberation, love, and care for one another.
Let’s get to work.
