A Review of Immigration, Policy, and the People of Latin America: Seven Sending Nations
Immigration, Policy, and the People of Latin America: Seven Sending Nations by Bryce W. Ashby and Michael J. LaRosa (Routledge, 2024)
No one truly wants to leave their homeland.
That’s a saying I’ve heard countless times in two decades of reporting on immigrants and immigration policy in the United States for the Boston Globe and other newspapers. It’s almost conventional wisdom by now — a quiet, often-ignored truth that sits beneath the headlines and political slogans.
So why do people migrate? Why do so many risk everything to cross borders, oceans and deserts for a chance at a new life?
In their ambitious book Immigration, Policy, and the People of Latin America: Seven Sending Nations, Bryce W. Ashby and Michael J. LaRosa tackle these questions earnestly and dig under the surface of the migration debate. They offer a nuanced and detailed exploration of why people from Colombia, Cuba, Haiti, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico and Venezuela leave home, and what happens when they do.
Through a blend of historical analysis, policy critiques and deeply personal migrant profiles, Ashby, an employment law attorney, and LaRosa, a professor and writer, illuminate the tangled web of forces — systemic corruption, failed government institutions, economic exploitation, racism and the long shadow of U.S. foreign policy — that push people to leave everything familiar behind.
The book is organized as a series of case studies specific to each of the seven Latin American nations, which were chosen by the authors due to the significant numbers of migrants they have sent to the United States. Ashby and LaRosa open the book with an introduction that sets the historical and policy context. Chapter by chapter, the authors examine the root causes of migration, including economic hardship, political instability, key historical events from the early 20th century up to the present day, the impact of U.S. foreign policy, and unique and shared experiences of migrants.
The authors’ comparative, country-by-country approach reveals both the shared struggles and the distinct histories that shape each migration story. At times, the book reads like a sweeping, handy and overwhelming compendium of historical facts that, taken together, begin to shape today’s migration patterns to the United States from this region.
For instance, Colombia’s “unique, complex geography has influenced the economic development of the nation, has made true integration of the nation virtually impossible, and has led to sociopolitical conflict and distrust of biblical dimensions,” Ashby and LaRosa write. “Colombians, since the beginning of the 20th century, have been attracted to the United States as a place of innovation, modernity, and civil liberties, with a strong dedication to democracy. For many Colombians, the United States has also been seen as a place where people can get ahead economically without reliance on apellido (family name) or religious/political party affiliation.”
Or take their analysis of Haiti, which went from the first independent Black republic to a failed state in the span of 200 years or so. The 2010 earthquake was a pivotal event, creating a significant wave of out-migration. Then there’s the “preponderance of U.S. intervention” witnessed by Central American nations. “Despite its rich history and deep ties to the United States, Honduras remains largely a mystery to most Americans,” Ashby and LaRosa write. They highlight the outsized role of two fruit companies, the multinational corporations that gained significant political and economic influence in Honduras and were essentially the origin of the term “banana republic.” “Between 1911 and 1929, the United States intervened six times to defend and maintain the interests of the fruit companies in Honduras,” the authors write.
The biggest advantage of Ashby and LaRosa’s country-by-country’s approach is that it avoids a common pitfall when exploring Latin American migration: treating the region as a monolith. It allows readers to understand the nuanced distinctions between, say, Cuba’s post-revolutionary exodus and Venezuela’s recent crisis-driven displacement, or Mexico’s long-standing migration patterns, mostly due to geography, and Haiti’s governance challenges.
That said, the opposite is also true: The regional context cannot be ignored. Focusing on single countries may limit our understanding of broader regional migration dynamics. Consider Central America, a small-ish region where the impact of climate change has been a meaningful cause of displacement. Plus, migration flows in this region often involve multiple countries. While El Salvador and Nicaragua — two countries that also have sent meaningful numbers of migrants to the United States — are often mentioned throughout the book, adding them would have presented a more coherent and complete regional picture.
One of the things that sets this book apart is that it doesn’t treat immigration as a faceless, abstract phenomenon or a mere policy problem, which are woefully incomplete narratives that people in the United States have been overexposed to. Ashby and LaRosa put front and center the voices of migrants themselves, with a range of ages and backgrounds represented. They tell the story of a 77-year-old Venezuelan scholar who currently works as a professor at the National Defense University in Washington, D.C. and who left his native country in 1995, right before the political rise of Hugo Chávez. They also narrate the journey of Noel Santamaria who came from Mexico City as a 21-year-old in 1997 to Naples, Florida, where he currently lives and works in construction. Like many undocumented people in the United States, “Noel pays taxes, and pays into social security — a benefit he’ll never ‘collect’ in his old age,” Ashby and LaRosa note.
In a political moment when immigration is often reduced to talking points and fearmongering, Immigration, Policy, and the People of Latin America is a necessary intervention. Ashby and LaRosa remind us that migration is not just about borders or statistics, but about people — families making impossible choices in the home of something better. Their book is essential reading for anyone who wants to move beyond the noise and understand the real stories behind the headlines and the deep-rooted forces that continue to shape the movement of people across the Americas.
Indeed, no one truly wants to leave their homeland. But, as Ashby and LaRosa show, the decision to migrate is rarely made in isolation or on a whim. It is shaped by the bonds of family and the weight and complications of history. In shedding a light on the infinite reasons why people leave — and what they hope to find — the authors remind us to avoid framing immigration purely as a policy problem, but as a testament to hope, resilience and the enduring ties that bind us all.
Marcela García is an associate editor and columnist for the Boston Globe‘s op-ed page. She is a 2025-26 Nieman Fellow. She was a 2025 Pulitizer Prize finalist.
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