In September 2021, our family experienced a profound loss with the passing of my grandmother. Our bond was particularly strong, filled with private shared moments where we indulged in our favorite series and snacks. Such intimate times also granted me the privilege of listening to heartwarming tales about her youth in the Indiana Harbor, situated closely to Chicago. My grandmother, Esther Lopez, was born in the epoch of the profound economic slump, the Great Depression, in March 1930, amidst a backdrop of imposing steel mills and industrial workshops.
Many scholars assert that East Chicago’s Harbor, at that period, was home to the largest Mexican-American populace in the country – accommodating about 5,000 inhabitants within a remarkably tight area of less than one square mile. It is also worth mentioning that according to a historical documentation by Ciro Harolde Sepulveda, a future Chicano and Boricua studies professor at Wayne State University, in 1976, rail conductors famously proclaimed ‘Mexico City’ at the Harbor stop.
This environment, with its vibrant Mexican quarter, also referred to as La Colonia del Harbor, greatly influenced my grandma. It was only after she passed that I discovered something she had excluded from her narrative. At some point before the close of the summer in 1932, her parents made plans to ‘voluntarily repatriate’ or in another sense, ‘self-deport’ themselves and their eldest children to Mexico. These discoveries led to the understanding of some disconcerting likenesses the repatriation period shares with contemporary political events.
The dire economic state of the Great Depression led to a ferocious scramble for jobs and support among citizens. Some people raised their voices advocating for mass deportation of Mexicans. Some high-profile raids were carried out by the Immigration and Naturalization Services, but the federal government largely refrained from intervening. As a result, rogue actors capitalized on the government’s non-interference, intimidating Mexicans and Mexican-Americans with tactics often described by the USCIS as ‘often coercive’ in a bid to get them to ‘voluntarily’ exit the country.
This significant piece of family history was verified by one of my aunts, confirming that my grandma had divulged this story to her. Historically, the Mexican community in the U.S cannot strictly be considered migrants. Following the signing of the 1848 Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S acquired more than half of Mexico, and in the process, about 285,000 Mexicans became part of the U.S. It’s with this background that the saying, ‘We didn’t cross the border, the border crossed us’ emerged.
The hardship faced by Mexicans was a widespread phenomenon. ‘Mexicanos faced unfair arrests for minor infringements,’ quotes Sepulveda. A significant example brought to light by Sepulveda tells of a Mexican-American student who was harassed by a teacher. The student retorted, ‘My ancestry binds me more to America than you, as all my forebears were born on this continent, while yours have European origins.’
Sepulveda further suggests that David Curtis Stephenson, a prominent leader of the Ku Klux Klan, was arguably ‘the most influential man in [Indiana]’ in the 1920s. The Klan’s influence was lesser within the Harbor primarily due to its largely Slavic and Catholic population. However, in the larger East Chicago, they frequently held meetings in local churches. With the advent of the Great Depression, the resentment aimed at Mexicans increased, having been on the rise for nearly a decade prior.