Mary Sanchez: Why so many Latinos are ICE agents and what it means

The embroidery on the baseball cap would be nondescript, dismissible even, atop any other person’s head. But the design is of the highly-recognizable Mexican flag: green, white and red.

The hat, and its emblem, is a popular choice lately.

Apparently, some Department of Homeland Security, Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents, and Border Patrol officers favor this ballcap. It’s been seen on agents who swoop into communities with a masked face, bulletproof vest, handcuffs, firearm and taser holstered at their sides.

Video and photos of various versions are rampant on social media as citizens and migrant communities try to stay abreast of the quota of 2,000 people a day the Trump White House has set for arresting immigrants marking them for deportation.

The baseball cap is an image, certainly less newsworthy than what’s happening to human beings. But it’s resurfacing an old conversation and questions about identity, belonging, assimilation and what people give up to shift from new immigrant to being an accepted resident of the U.S.

Some are asking, Is the cap worn by non-Latinos a way to taunt immigrants who feel like they are the hunted prey of these agents? Or is a disproportionate number of agents Latino, brown running through their veins, and fluent in Spanish?

In short, there are no easy answers. Despite many laymen's psychological theories, no one has a firm grasp on these questions.

First, here’s what is known: About 50% of the nation’s Customs and Border Patrol officers are Latino. And about 20% of ICE agents are Latino, according to Homeland Security data, which is also confirmed by National Public Radio reporting early in the second Trump administration.

There’s been an uptick in hiring in recent months so time will tell if the demographics of the enforcement workforce hold over time. The border patrol statistic is reasonably understandable given the demographics of the Southwest, areas close to the U.S.-Mexico border.

Also, it’s a job where being bilingual in Spanish and English can be a big asset, likely a necessary requirement.

Add in the tough economy and a scarcity of good-paying jobs, and it makes sense why we have large numbers of Latino agents.

But immigration agents with Latino names on their badges (when they’re not trying to hide their identity) offend many Latinos.

Two names in particular generated disgust. Government records show it was a Border Patrol agent by the name of Jesus Ochoa and a Customs and Border Protection officer by the name of Raymundo Gutierrez who fired their weapons in the incident that killed Alex Pretti, a nurse who was merely trying to help other protesters during the ICE sweeps of Minneapolis.

Taking on such work isn’t an honorable paycheck, critics fume. Rather, it’s akin to eagerly handcuffing your own family, or kindred cultural cousins, for a paycheck. The agents are traitors to the culture and dismissed as lost brethren.

The story of La Malinche is often raised. She was an indigenous woman who became the interpreter of the 16th-century Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés. She was his guide, his passport to understanding Aztec culture, and his sexual partner, or possibly slave.

The Spaniards were successful in the conquest because she helped them, betraying her own people. That’s the shorthand story, anyway. Others point out that Malinche was sold into slavery as a child, marking her a survivor and possibly more forced to oblige Cortés than willing to do so on her own accord. The rape of indigenous women was common for the period.

Nevertheless, the name Malinche has become a slur. It’s often thrown out, Latino to Latino, as a way to challenge the cultural purity and loyalty of Mexican-Americans.

A more contemporary view can be found in the 1996 John Sayles movie Lone Star. It’s a Texas borderland story told in flashbacks, connecting people with their origin stories of coming to the states, tracking through deep racism and trauma.

As one immigrant family grew in their new wealth and status they also adopted degrading attitudes toward newer migrants. It’s an old story, tied to passing for white, shunning Spanish and attempting to assume a higher class in U.S. society by downplaying their Mexican culture of birth.

One disdainful outcome may be that some people will choose to be less ethnic, less identifiable with targeted Latinos. It’s a way to separate oneself from the chaos. As generations pass, these people move further from their immigrant roots and some are never taught about their ancestors and the richness of their culture.

The U.S. promise to immigrants is that they can shapeshift into a new identity. People can leave what troubled them behind, whether it is an abusive government, war, famine, persecution or impossible economic failures, and begin anew.

What’s discussed far less is that this desire to chase that American dream can also exact a cruel toll. The melting pot analogy of our nation can take as much as it gives. Sometimes, it means losing respect for the very ancestors that brought you here.

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(Readers can reach Mary Sanchez at [email protected] and follow her on Twitter @msanchezcolumn.)

©2026 Mary Sanchez. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.