Cynthia Robles went to school in a border town in Arizona for 13 years. If the border was closed, she would be one of the only kids there to learn because her commuting classmates couldn’t make it into the U.S. The immigration experience was her day-to-day, even though she wasn’t a migrant herself.
When Robles, now 26 and living in Tucson, woke on November 6 and learned former President Donald Trump had won the election, she couldn’t muster the strength to go to work. From bed that morning, Robles was thinking one thing: She had lost hope for the future of her community.
“The next day, I was like, I am too tired to even go to work, I can’t handle people talking to me about the election,” Robles said. “It was a really hard day.”
Robles is one of more than 36 million eligible Latino voters. For her, immigration policy was an important part of her decision to vote for Vice President Kamala Harris. That wasn’t the case for all Latino voters. For many of them, varying in socioeconomic status and country of origin, immigration wasn’t on their mind at all.
For a projected 43% of the Latino population, more than any other Republican candidate in history, Trump was the answer. In Arizona, voters like Robles have watched the state turn purple, becoming a place where both major political parties spend significant time and resources. Trump carried the state — home to 2.3 million Latinos — by nearly 200,000 votes.
Trump’s increase in support from Latinos didn’t deliver him the presidency. He made notable gains with the traditionally Democratic-voting demographic, but they weren’t the difference between victory and defeat.
Regardless, campaigns dedicated substantial effort to winning the “Latino vote,” particularly in states such as Arizona and Nevada, the two swing states with the largest Latino populations. It can be difficult to reach a Latino voting bloc that is growing more diverse with every election cycle, losing any semblance of voter cohesion.
Immigration might have played a role for Robles, but it wasn’t her only reason to vote blue.
She works with local government as a research analyst for the grants department. Robles said she’s worried about her job stability under another Trump administration. As an aunt of four kids, reproductive rights are another important factor in her political choices.
“I’m thankful that [my sister has] been able to receive amazing health care here in Arizona. But had something happened, she had that right to receive a D&C if medically necessary,” Robles said. A D&C is a dilation and curettage, a surgical process that removes tissue from the uterus and is the most common method of early abortion. “She chose to have her babies but it was her choice, you know. I think that’s so important for others to have as well.”
Robles didn’t know it before November, but her own family is an example of the complexity of the “Latino vote.” After Trump won the election, she said she was surprised to find male family members posting celebratory messages on social media, expressing excitement that the president-elect “will fix the economy.”
“I just know even if I see these people, [I have to] always be mindful,” Robles said. “That’s who they are, deep down. Those are their values. Their values are different from mine.”
Robles’ family members are among the estimated 48% of male Latinos who voted for Trump, according to AP VoteCast. With each presidential run, Trump has gained more and more support from the group, even with an increasingly anti-immigration platform.
In October, at a dusty raceway on the outskirts of Tucson, Sen. JD Vance addressed a crowd of supporters in triple-digit temperatures, just as early voting kicked off in the swing state. Speaking only 70 miles from the border, Vance repeatedly criticized the Democrats’ immigration policies and promised to close the border to “illegal aliens.”
Carlos, an immigrant from Argentina who refused to provide a last name, walked away from the rally with a smile on his face. Vance was “fabulous,” he said in Spanish, and a great public speaker.
“They’re opening people’s eyes to the abuses of this government,” Carlos said.
Carlos entered the country 40 years ago on a work visa and now owns a home and a car in Pima County. He insisted that he “never suffered any discrimination” while settling in the U.S. He voted for Democrats for 17 years out of hatred for Bush, he said, but he filled out his mail-in ballot within minutes of receiving it to vote for Trump.
“The problem at the border doesn’t make any sense,” Carlos said. “They need to close the border and every person needs to be here legally.”
Trump’s support among Latino men shocked many, but it didn’t surprise Republican political consultant Mike Madrid, co-founder of the anti-Trump Lincoln Project and author of “The Latino Century: How America’s Largest Minority is Transforming Democracy.” Madrid said that although he didn’t know it would be this quick, he’s been predicting a rightward shift among Latino voters for years.
“I thought it would be a little bit more gradual, but here it is. We’re talking like a 10-point shift this cycle on top of a seven- or eight-point shift last cycle,” Madrid said. “It’s a very, very, very real thing. And it’s a fire alarm for the Democrats.”
Latinos are no longer a cohesive voting bloc, Madrid argued. The population looks very different from even a few decades ago, now composed of second-, third- and fourth-generation Latinos born and raised in American society.
According to the Pew Research Center, U.S. births are the main drivers of the growth of the Latino population, not new immigrant arrivals. Getting further and further away from the immigration experience, there isn’t much holding this diverse community together.
“The more Americanized the Latino voter is, the more right-wing they become, the more Trump-supporting they become,” Madrid said. “The closer Latino men are to the country of origin, the more they have supported Black and female candidates.”
Even decades ago, when Latinos had the experience of coming from a Spanish-speaking country to unite them, immigration was never a top issue, Madrid said. According to him, this misconception has crippled Latino support for the Democratic Party.
“It’s never been a big issue, and it’s becoming less and less of an issue, especially when they haven’t been talking about the economy,” Madrid said. “They’re moving further and further away from economic issues, which is why Latinos came in the first place.”
The Latino population is largely working class. One in five Latino men work in construction. For some Latinos, labor, not immigration, drives their votes.
Richard Perez, 54, works in a copper mine in Kearny, Arizona. During a sweltering mid-October heat wave, he traveled 70 miles to a high school in Tucson to see Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, proudly toting a “Steelworkers for Harris/Walz” sign. The night before, he was in Phoenix waving the sign over his head as he listened to Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff rally supporters to start voting early.
Perez has supported Democratic candidates for the past 10 years through his union, United Steelworkers. He’s a third-generation miner and his priority was electing a pro-union president that allowed them the freedom to negotiate for higher wages and safer workplaces.
“Most corporations crap on the little guy,” Perez said. “We need someone on our side. [Harris is] supportive of the working force.”
He said Trump “tore apart” the National Labor Relations Board. According to Perez, Biden was “patching it up,” and he hoped Harris would continue that work.
“We need to stand up for what we feel is right and that means voting Democratic,” Perez said. “It’s a gut punch to the union not to.”
Although the Republican Party has never been known for supporting unions, labor leader Sean O’Brien of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters appeared at the Republican National Convention in July, demonstrating weakening political cohesion among working-class voters.
After generations of Latinos rallied against anti-immigration legislation in the 1990s, such as California’s notorious Proposition 187, political strategists concluded immigration was the key to winning the Latino voting bloc, Madrid said. But nothing has been able to unite Latinos in the same way since.
For millions, the prospect of an improved economy was enough to cast a vote for Trump, despite his platform of mass deportation. If a Latino voter is a citizen, and no one in their family is undocumented, a plan like Trump’s might even sound like a good thing.
Some candidates couldn’t afford to underestimate how much sway the economy has over Latino voters. When Rep. Ruben Gallego was campaigning for Arizona’s open Senate seat against Republican nominee Kari Lake, he made few mentions of Harris and Trump to avoid alienating any voters.
In October, Gallego held a small rally in an auto shop in Coronado, a predominantly Latino neighborhood in Phoenix. Campaign signs fashioned after Loteria cards — a traditional Mexican board game similar to bingo — dubbed Lake “La Mentirosa” or “the liar.” Standing in jeans in front of a couple dozen voters sipping agua fresca, Gallego spoke about the American dream and economic opportunity, without addressing the presidential race.
“We need to make sure that … working-class families understand that they’re going to make it,” Gallego said. “That we’re going to have representation that will make sure of that, thinking about them first and fighting for them first and … not for the big companies.”
The race was close — Gallego won by around 80,000 votes. The margin is narrow enough to imply that many voters split their ticket and voted for both him and Trump.
Marcelino Quiñonez, a former member of the Arizona House of Representatives, shook hands around the shop. This cycle he ran for Phoenix City Council, maneuvering the highly polarized politics of Maricopa County voters. After the election, reflecting on his own and Harris’ losses, he said the Democrats need to “go back to the drawing board.”
“I’ve heard from folks who are on the ground and working to get out the vote that men would say, ‘Well, I don’t believe everything that Trump is saying, but at least he’s talking about the things that I want to hear about,’” Quiñonez said. “From a campaigning standpoint, people want to feel like, ‘Oh, if I vote for this person, my life is going to change.’”
Madrid argues the same thing in his book: The Democrats are losing touch with the working class who desperately want change. Instead of letting “politics get in the way of policies,” Quiñonez said, the party needs to keep it simple and prioritize issues like inflation, community safety and funding public programs.
“We’re often playing the defense, responding to what’s being said about us, and I think what we need to do is really focus on the things that we’re good at,” Quiñonez said. “We need to go back to some of the bread and butter issues.”
Quiñonez said he is hopeful the Democrats can reclaim some seats in the 2026 midterm elections, but that requires a change in how the party appeals to voters. That also means addressing the nuances within the 36 million eligible Latino voters instead of adopting one monolithic “Latino vote” strategy.
“We are Americans who happen to be Latino. We need to begin to include ourselves in the broader conversations,” Quiñonez said. “[Politicians] need to tell these groups, ‘Hey, we’re reaching out to you because we believe that you are part of the collective group, and we want you to be a part of the collective group.’”