By Daniel Davison-Vecchione and Lorena Piedrahita-Lopez
Latin Americans are the fastest-growing ethnic community in London. Spanish is now the second most widely spoken language in several boroughs, including Southwark, Lambeth, and Wandsworth. According to Mcilwaine and Bunge (2016), the Latin American community is the eighth largest non-UK-born population in London (p. 8), bigger than the Somalian and Romanian communities but not much smaller than the Bengali, Pakistani, or Nigerian communities. They estimate that, in 2013, there were around 145,000 Latin Americans in London, with just under 250,000 in the UK as a whole (p. 14).
Figures 1 and 2. Carnaval Del Pueblo 2023 in Burgess Park, South London, a Latin American festival that has been taking place since 1998 (Photo Credits: Lorena)
Despite this, the Latin American diaspora in the UK remains curiously invisible. There is very little academic research on them, and even in London, Latin Americans are only infrequently recognised as a major ethnic minority group in the same manner as similarly sized diaspora groups. Part of this invisibility might owe to the lack of a tick box for “Latin American” on the UK Census, most job application forms, and many other standard forms with an ethnicity section.
The Latin American diaspora is very nationally and ethnically diverse. They also vary tremendously in their migration experiences, with some having migrated as children, some as adults, and others having been born in the UK. Among those who migrated, some came directly to the UK, while others had migrated to a different country beforehand. Additionally, the areas of London where the Latin American community is concentrated have changed drastically in recent years because of gentrification.
Given these contexts, the question arises of how members of the Latin American diaspora in London navigate questions of identity – i.e., how they see themselves nationally, ethnically, or culturally – and what factors into this. Unfortunately, the topic is under-researched, in line with the community’s broader invisibility. For this reason, we spoke to members of the Latin American diaspora who live in London about their experiences and how these have shaped their sense of identity and belonging.
Among those who migrated to the UK, a shared experience was no longer having a
community and, therefore, having to find new social bonds and support networks in the city. As Xiomara, who is in her thirties and arrived from Mexico at age 23, expressed: “I knew loads of people [in Mexico], and in the UK, I knew one person. I knew my friend, and then I knew the people that I worked for, so it was quite an isolated existence really”. Paloma, who came to London from Mexico about a year ago, experienced seasonal depression in the winter. Despite having previously lived alone in Mexico City for ten years, she recalled that the lack of “family was a thing that I thought was more difficult than I [had expected], for sure, not having your support system close to you, especially when you’re having a hard time, mentally speaking”.
Struggles with precarious immigration status, housing, and discrimination were also
common. Lucia, who came to London from a small town in Mexico at age 23 on a
prospective student visa, could not open a bank account. She found herself moving about seven times in three months. Her experiences of the London housing market included a room with a live-in landlord who had hidden recording devices in the house; sharing a room with people who heavily used drugs, which left her feeling very unsafe; and an incident where a live-in landlord told her to come the next day with the money to pay in advance, only for her to arrive in the taxi with all her belongings and find out that he had given the room to someone else and wanted to “teach her a lesson” because she didn’t say yes to the room straight away. As the UK Border Agency had her passport, she could not fly back to Mexico: “It was one of the most horrible moments of my life, I thought I was going to sleep under a bridge, or something”.
Figures 7, 8 and 9. Different stalls from ‘La Chonga’ Market in Hackney, East London, as a space for Latina/x businesses (Photo credits: Lorena)
London functions as a significant cultural hub for recent arrivals. As Turcatti (2023) identifies, here “[Latin Americans] run businesses, direct charities, organise festivals, and hold masses in Spanish and Portuguese” (p. 11). It remains significant for Latin Americans born in the city or who have lived there for an extended period. Claudia, who is in her forties and moved between London and Colombia before “fully” migrating at age 11, and Luis, who is 29 and arrived from Ecuador at age 2, have spent most of their lives in London. Both note a sense of belonging to the city due to its diversity, as opposed to the “Otherness” they experience in different parts of England. Even when visiting certain London boroughs, Claudia observes that she feels “a bit weird, as if [she doesn’t] belong”; when leaving London entirely, she almost feels “like an alien there”. Luis experiences a similar sense of disconnect when
leaving London, existing in what feels like a different world: “I’m being stared at through a different lens and looked at through a different lens and I kind of felt a bit uncomfortable”.
The areas of London seen as major focal points for Latin Americans are Elephant and Castle, Brixton, and Seven Sisters. Melissa, born in London to Colombian parents, describeds these as a “sort of epicentre”, as spaces which allowed her to navigate her Latin American roots. Many interviewees felt a powerful connection to Elephant and Castle, where people could hear Spanish, buy Latin American products, and continue to embrace their culture despite no longer living in their or their parent’s country of origin.
However, these cultural hubs have been subject to gentrification in recent years, an issue discussed by nearly all interviewees. Here, the Elephant and Castle shopping centre demolition in early 2021 looms large. Lucia notes that, with this process, there has been a reputational shift. Previously, areas like Elephant and Castle and Brixton were considered dangerous, but they are now characterised by “pretty coffee shops” and costly flats. With all the regeneration, Luis argues that it is difficult “to continue fostering community there”, while noting a strong aspect of class identity alongside ethnic identity in the gentrification process. Claudia argues that the gentrification has been a blow to the Latin American community as the Elephant and Castle shopping centre was the “landmark where Latin Americans first made their footprint in London”, filled with Latin American shops and restaurants. Melissa notices a paradox in this process: gentrification is pushing out Latin Americans from their cultural hubs while simultaneously attempting to appeal to a “whiter audience” that consumes Latin American culture. Karlina, who arrived from the Dominican Republic in 2006, acknowledges the gentrification but views it more positively. Pointing to the new Elephant Park, she argues that, although there has been a change, they have kept the same essence, precisely the value of multiculturalism.
Many interviewees found that language played a significant role in how they navigated their sense of identity and belonging. As Luis remarks, language can be a kind of “tether” or “cultural passport”: “when you aren’t as confident with it, I think you create a barrier between yourself and the culture and the heritage, and that can be quite difficult”. Karlina notes that, after initially not placing much importance on meeting “other Latinos”, as a writer, she found that she “wasn’t writing [or] reading that much in Spanish”. This led her to attend Battersea Spanish reading and writing workshops, an experience that gave her the motivation to self- publish a book in Spanish. As she recounts, “taking that step was what got me to know more and even love more my Latin American roots and my community within the UK. Because I approached the community with a piece of art, you know, and I said ‘I wrote this thing and do you want to read it?’”. Lucia recalls how the immense pressure to have a “perfect British accent” to work in the acting industry led her to actively avoid speaking Spanish and finding people with similar cultural experiences: “I wanted to reinvent myself into this “English person” who was never Mexican, who had nothing to do with Latin America, because I thought that was the only way I could ever achieve my dream, according to what they told me”. It was only after finding a community of fellow Latin American artists in London through a “scratch night” organised by Untold Collectiv, a platform for artists from underrepresented backgrounds, that she began to break out of this mindset. Lucia noted how the level of support she received defied the stereotypical view many Mexicans have of their own culture as hyper-individualistic, with people “just trying to look after themselves and destroy anyone in their way to get to where they want”.
As this suggests, Latin Americans often have a complicated relationship with Britishness. Xiomara discussed this when asked where she felt she belonged. She described herself as “forcefully [belonging], not smoothly” to London due to a segmented sense of identity where little bits belonged to different spaces but not entirely. Claudia shares a similar sentiment but for different reasons. As she moved as a teenager, it was effectively “a forced migration”, making her distance herself from a British or even British-Colombian identity. Others feel a strong London identity rather than a broader British one. For instance, Luis prefers to describe himself as a “Latin American Londoner”. In some circumstances, a strong British- Latina identity emerged. Karlina expressed that, after living in the UK for 17 years, she identified with Britishness while maintaining a strong connection to her Dominican heritage. Melissa, born and raised in London, shared a similar feeling: “There are bits of [her] that feel quite British”, but other parts are quite Colombian.
Race within a Latin American context functions differently than in a UK context due to a history of colonialism and “mestizaje”. Some interviewees remarked on the complexities of crossing between different systems of racialisation, where they are perceived as “white” in one system but not in another. Latin Americans can come from various backgrounds. As Lucia notes, when ticking boxes, “some people will tick white other, some others will tick, like, Indigenous, some people will tick, like, Afro-Caribbean”. Karlina observes that, in the Dominican Republic, she is “white”, but in the UK, “people look at me, I am not white. I know it: I am not white”. Xiomara’s experience was similar: “I know white people do not think I am white, but I look white”. Paloma notes that it was not until moving to London that her self- awareness of her identity shifted, especially concerning race. She considers herself a white Mexican, yet in London, she is not always perceived as a “white Latina”. This led to frequent questions about whether she would consider herself “mixed race”. Other interviewees also encountered complications in how “mixed race” is conceptualised. Although some acknowledged their mixed heritage, they did not feel “mixed race” due to not being “‘mixed’ in the way [Britons] perceive ‘mixed’”, as Lucia puts it.
This connects with another recurring issue: many of the common ethnic categories used to identify members of the Latin American diaspora have their own tensions and implicit exclusions. For example, as a Dominican, Karlina considers herself Latina, but despite popular assumptions, this is not synonymous with “South American” or even “Central American”; instead, she is “Latin American/Caribbean”. Similarly, Luis points to the complicated relationships many Latin Americans have to “Hispanidad” and even “Latinidad”: “‘Hispanic’ encompasses Europe – Spain, in particular – and it excludes a lot of Latin American ethnicities, cultures, nationalities” and “most people limit Latinidad anyway. People start stereotypes of majoritarian mestizos, and beyond that, we don’t talk about Haiti, you know, Brazil.”
This all links to an issue every interviewee mentioned – the demographic checkbox. The option most selected was the “Other” category, although this was met with frustration as it signified a lack of recognition of Latin Americans in the UK. For example, Lucia expresses a sense of imposter syndrome, which comes with trying to select the box she fits into most. Lucia especially notes the frustration that emerges in the context of drama school: “It’s all about boxes; it’s all about putting you in a box, and I was like, I don’t know what I am”. For Melissa, there is frustration when looking at the census because it recognises more specific identities, which creates a sense of “being ignored because if they’ve made an effort to sort of go through certain ethnicities, and then you still don’t have, like, one that encompasses ‘Latin’”. Luis notes one experience where there was a Latin American category on a survey for the London Borough of Southwark, which was surprising, but for the most part, “you feel invisible, kind of, which I would say is almost a cliché at this point”. Claudia finds that it can be difficult to have these conversations within the community as some argue that “we’re almost making a fuss of nothing” when pushing for the Latin American tickbox, as the “Other” category is considered enough. However, as Claudia notes, accurate demographic data is important for practical matters like deciding how many Spanish-speaking translators the local authority needs.
In short, many Latin Americans in London are not particularly sure where they belong. However, some find freedom in this, embracing different facets of identity and selfhood. Somewhat paradoxically, this freedom is often tied to a specific location. In Luis’ words, “between peers we’ve given ourselves that space to exist multidimensionally”. “There is always a feeling of impermanence, which is an ambiguity that fills a soul as an immigrant”, expresses Karlina, “and I guess for me it’s more of great, you know, of embracing that rather than getting frustrated”.
References
● Ons.gov.uk. (2023). Main language detailed – Census Maps, ONS. [online] Available
at: https://www.ons.gov.uk/census/maps/choropleth/identity/main-language-
detailed/main-language-detailed/english-english-or-welsh-in-wales [Accessed 15
Nov. 2023].
● Mcilwaine, C. and Bunge, D. (2016). Towards visibility: the Latin American
community in London. [online] Available at:
https://tfl.ams3.cdn.digitaloceanspaces.com/media/documents/Towards-Visibility-full-report_QqkSbgl.pdf.
● Turcatti,D. (2023). Identities in onward migration: young people of Colombian
descent in London. Children’s Geographies, [online] pp.1–15.
doi:https://doi.org/10.1080/14733285.2023.2217408.
● Londonist. (2021). In Pictures: The Demolition Of Elephant And Castle Shopping
Centre. [online] Available at: https://londonist.com/london/art-and-photography/in-
pictures-the-demolition-of-elephant-and-castle-shopping-centre [Accessed 15 Nov.
2023].