This essay is part of an ongoing Gender & Democracy series, presented in partnership with Groundswell Fund and Groundswell Action Fund, highlighting the work of Groundswell partners advancing inclusive democracy. You’ll find stories, reflections and accomplishments—told in their own words—by grassroots leaders, women of color, Indigenous women, and trans and gender-expansive people supported by Groundswell. By amplifying these voices—their solutions, communities, challenges and victories—our shared goal is to show how intersectional organizing strengthens democracy.
My family immigrated from Mexico to California when I was 3 years old. My brother wasn’t walking and was showing signs of physical delays. Unable to find answers back home, my parents sacrificed everything—our home, their small business, a familiar life—in search of a diagnosis, treatment and hope.
This Latine Heritage Month, I’m reminded of the strength of the women in my family in the face of migration and uncertainty, and the extraordinary community in the U.S. that welcomed us.

My brother was eventually diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy, a disease that worsens over time and has no cure. By age 6, I was translating at his appointments, reading letters from doctors and helping my parents complete Medicaid forms—while balancing a childhood and a new home. It was only through constant advocacy that we managed to get him the care he needed.
Decades later, too many immigrant communities, including Latines across the country, still struggle to access basic healthcare. Many are excluded from insurance programs, forced to wait years to qualify, or unable to find providers who understand their language or culture.
By age 6, I was translating at his appointments, reading letters from doctors and helping my parents complete Medicaid forms—while balancing a childhood and a new home.
As government attacks on immigrant communities increase, the threat of deportation, family separation and criminalization keeps many from seeking the critical healthcare they need to survive. This fear is paralyzing, too many times leading to avoidable illnesses and worse health outcomes. Healthcare is a fundamental human right, yet many of our policies deny this right to immigrants.
To make matters worse, the Republican tax and spending plan signed into law earlier this year made the largest cuts in history to Medicaid and the federal Children’s Health Insurance Program. These programs are lifelines for millions of individuals across the nation. The aftermath means the closure of hundreds of Planned Parenthood health centers, which provide essential health services ranging from cancer treatment to contraceptive care. The law also makes it harder for immigrant communities to access affordable insurance, as the government instead pours billions into Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and immigrant detention centers.
As for reproductive care, immigrants have long been unable to access abortion care because of coverage gaps or restrictions. I saw this firsthand in college while working at a family help desk at the public hospital in Boston and in a women’s health clinic—where, beyond my own life experience, I learned about the depth of health inequities and injustices that people face in this country and how they lead to adverse health outcomes.

Once, as I was helping an immigrant woman from Haiti sign up for Medicaid and food support, she confessed she had not come to the hospital or clinic even once, until she needed to give birth to her son one month pre-term. The reason? She didn’t have insurance.
As she prepared to be discharged while her son remained in the NICU, she struggled to determine how she would feed herself or her other two children without being able to work due to the early birth.
Her story, along with countless others, remains seared in my mind as living, breathing examples of the toll of inequities.
I have spent my life advocating for healthcare, starting with my own family. I often reflect on conversations with my grandmother, who had 11 children—who told me that if she had access to birth control, she would have chosen for herself how many children to have. She wanted that freedom for me and for all her children and grandchildren.
Ever since, my career has enabled me to analyze the cause of maternal death in Mexico, especially from unsafe abortions; support people seeking abortion care in California through an abortion fund; and advocate to expand health clinics through Planned Parenthood. I’ve seen how transformative it is when people have the information and care they need to shape their futures.
When people have the power to make decisions about their bodies and lives, families thrive. Our research shows that undocumented and mixed-status families are especially harmed by abortion bans and at risk of criminalization because of their status. With the possibility of Planned Parenthood being forced to close many more health centers, it will be harder to get abortion care, even in states with the right to abortion. It’s the national ban extremists have long wanted.
Misinformation also runs rampant, leaving people unsure if abortion is legal where they live. Traveling to another state can mean risking detention and family separation. Abortion bans only deepen barriers for immigrant communities.
Healthcare access, including the full spectrum of reproductive care, can make or break lives. Nobody should be denied healthcare, no one should have to choose between paying for healthcare and rent, and no one should fear deportation for going to the doctor. All of us should have access to care. Period.
Healthcare couldn’t wait for my family. It can’t wait for millions more in our communities who are denied care or too afraid to seek the care they need.

We must work together to ensure all of us can raise our families with health, safety and dignity. Latine communities across the country are vibrant and resilient.
This Latine Heritage Month, we invite you to join us in our mission to achieve salud, dignidad y justicia for every member of our community.
Together, we can ensure that no one is left behind.





