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For These Young Latino Voters, It’s Neither Biden nor Trump

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A man in a white button-up shirt and large black cowboy hat holds up his left hand to his mouth, shouting to performers
Napa resident Manuel De la Pena cheers on a Lucha Libre match at La Onda festival on Sunday, June 2, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

On a recent Sunday in June, thousands of fans watched rock en español legends La Maldita Vecindad at the first-ever Festival La Onda held at the Napa Valley Expo.

Dressed head-to-toe in old-school pachuco gear, the band’s frontman Roco sang a verse from “Los Agachados,” an upbeat song dedicated to eating warm, delicious food while recovering from a hangover. On another stage, Yahritza y Su Esencia, a young group of Mexican American siblings from Washington state, dove into the chorus of “Soy el Único,” a soulful corrido of heartbreak.

Meanwhile, fans ran back and forth, trying to hear both groups, underscoring a new reality about the exploding popularity of Latin music. Its listeners aren’t limited by one genre, be it regional mexicano, rock en español, reggaetón, Latin house or indie.

In other words, their musical taste is not a monolith — and neither are their politics.

That hasn’t stopped both the Biden and Trump campaigns from employing a one-size-fits-all strategy to court Latino voters. Every four years, campaign managers and pundits talk about the “Latino vote,” a mythical term meant to predict the political preferences of over 63 million people from a variety of nationalities, races, religions and lived experiences.

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At La Onda, KQED spoke to dozens of music fans to better understand the variety of issues Latinos in California are balancing in this election year.

Natalie Arana poses for a portrait at La Onda festival on Saturday, June 1, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

When lifelong Napa resident Natalie Arana heard that a Latino music festival was coming to town, she immediately signed up for the ticket presale. “It made me very happy that they’re finally doing something for us. … We are honestly the ones that make this place run,” Arana said, referring to the wine industry’s largely Latino and Indigenous labor force, including many in her family.

Arana, who spoke to KQED while waiting with her husband and friends for Mexican pop star Danna Paola to begin her set, has been closely following the U.S. presidential election and said she already knows exactly how she will vote.

In 2017, her family was impacted when Trump announced he would end the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, which provides temporary legal protections to certain undocumented immigrants who were brought to the U.S. while they were minors. “Not having DACA … that affects my husband,” she said, fearful of a Trump victory.

As president, Joe Biden has not threatened DACA but has also failed to ensure permanent legal status for the 530,000 people still in the program. Arana is now exploring other legal protections for her husband should Trump win in November. The stakes are too high not to take action, she said. “We have two babies.”

Arana finds it frustrating that other people choose not to vote. “People are not voting enough,” she said. “And that’s why people like him, who was found guilty for dozens of felonies, are allowed to run for president.”

Víctor García poses for a portrait at La Onda festival on Saturday, June 1, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

As a DACA recipient, Víctor García can’t vote himself, but he’s making sure all his friends do.

“Right now, I’m just trying to vocalize what’s happening and tell people, ‘Hey, did you vote? Can you do something for us? We’re here as a community. We’re here to vibe with you guys. We’re here to do our life with you,’” García said.

García traveled all the way from the Central Valley for La Onda. For him, “having the Latino community come together this way, it’s amazing.” Standing next to him was his friend Erick Reyes, who said García has helped him better understand the different issues on the ballot this year.

Erick Reyes poses for a portrait at La Onda festival on Saturday, June 1, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

Reyes said he’s often too busy working to follow every election issue but adds that his job in healthcare has taught him a lot about inequality. In the year and a half, since Madera County Hospital closed, he’s witnessed the region’s farmworker families struggle to access basic necessary care.

Protecting healthcare services in rural communities matters as a political priority, Reyes said. And for people to get the healthcare they need, he added, “that depends on [what] is available to them.”

Carlos Alberto Ramirez poses for a portrait at La Onda festival on Sunday, June 2, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

With a red keffiyeh draped over their shoulders, Carlos Alberto Martínez — who came to La Onda from the East Bay with their partner and family — stands out from the crowd.

Martínez was a DACA recipient for several years until they became a citizen about a year ago. But now that they can vote, Martínez said, they’re not supporting any of the presidential candidates. “Biden’s trash … they’re all trash.”

“The Democrats haven’t done anything for us,” they said, adding that both the Biden and Obama administrations have deported hundreds of thousands of undocumented immigrants. Most recently, Biden announced significant restrictions on migrants seeking asylum at the southern border.

“I have more against them than the Republicans because they’re the ones that failed us and actually had an opportunity,” Martínez said.

Vanessa Cuellar (at right) dances with Yajaira Gonzalez at La Onda festival on Saturday, June 1, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

Vanessa Cuellar from San Francisco has a 10-year record of always voting in elections. But this year, the San Francisco resident said, she doesn’t feel the same passion.

“I haven’t been as engaged this year because of the genocide happening in Palestine,” Cuellar said, adding that daily news of Palestinian civilians killed by Israeli forces in Gaza and the Biden administration’s continued backing of Israel has made it difficult to feel excited about politics.

The other side, she said, is no better: throughout his campaign, Trump has promised to double down his support for Israel despite the humanitarian crisis in Gaza.

“It doesn’t feel fair that our country has the same two options, and we have to pick the lesser evil again,” Cuellar said. “This time around, it’s hard to distinguish the difference.”

Cuellar said that even at the festival, surrounded by so many happy fans, it was still hard not to think of the suffering in Gaza. Protecting Palestinian lives aligns with what she and her community stand for, she said.

“My friends don’t want to vote, and it’s hard to disagree with them, even when there are many big issues involved in this election like abortion and immigration,” she said. “But unfortunately, everything’s been overshadowed by the genocide.”

A recent CNN poll of over 1,200 potential voters found that Trump is leading Biden among voters aged 18-24 by 11 points. Younger voters reported being highly critical of the Biden administration, specifically of its role in Gaza; 81% disapprove of the White House’s handling of the conflict.

Isa Alcala poses for a portrait at La Onda festival on Saturday, June 1, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

The high cost of living is also a frustration for young voters. “Everything is just so much more expensive now,” Isa Alcalá said, waiting in line to get food after Chilean indie singer Mon Laferte’s performance. “Regular pay and cost of living — it doesn’t add up.”

Alcalá, who came to La Onda from Dixon, works in a Sacramento emergency department. She and her team have had to respond to more drug overdoses over the past few years, she said, and she’s critical of the over-the-counter cost of the opioid overdose-reversing drug Narcan.

“It should be free for everyone,” she said. “Why do you have to buy something that’s going to save your life?”

Many of the elderly Latino immigrants Alcalá sees in the ER hold off going to the doctor for treatable conditions because they can’t afford the copays, she said. “Our own people avoid it because of the costs,” she said. “If you want to do better for yourself, it takes more money.”

Paola Casillas poses for a portrait at La Onda festival on Sunday, June 2, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

During Maldita Vecindad’s set, Paola Casillas sat on a blanket with her mom, who first heard them growing up in Mexico and passed her love for the band onto her daughter.

They both live in Richmond, where Casillas is very involved in climate justice efforts, working at a nonprofit that provides organic produce to low-income families. She’s also protested the pollution caused by the nearby Chevron refinery, which has been linked to the city’s asthma and cancer rates, particularly among families of color.

“It’s frustrating because it’s not just Richmond. It’s a lot of low-income communities that always face those adversities,” Casillas said.

Paola Casillas (left) and her mother Eugenia Casillas pose for a portrait at La Onda festival on Sunday, June 2, 2024. (Estefany Gonzalez for KQED)

None of the presidential candidates appeal to her, she said. In fact, Casillas no longer sees a presidential election as an effective path to change and has refocused on her local community. She advises others to “go to your city council meetings because there’s a lot of things that you can change if you just keep showing up.”

Her mom, Eugenia, said she sympathizes with the younger generation, especially regarding the higher cost of living and the consequences of climate change. Like many other immigrants, she said, she came to the United States to find peace, but “we need to almost break our backs to just have a little bit of something,” she said.

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“We have to fight to have both,” she said. “To have peace and to have a good life.”

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