Introduction²

I will never miss an opportunity to recite the U.S. national anthem. I will always be proud to be FROM Michigan. I will always be an American. However, through the same city that I was introduced to the U.S., I was reintroduced to Mexico 20 some odd years later where I was welcomed into this world will be where I accomplish my dreams. I am not in Exile (Serafín, young deportee, letter sent via SurveyMonkey, June 11, 2018).

Young migrant returnees or deportees from the United States to Mexico find themselves compelled to rebuild their lives in a country that is alien to them. In general, having been taken there as children, they grew up and were socialized in the United States. At school, they are taught that they live in the best country in the world, one that offers opportunities for those who work hard, a country with legitimate institutions where the rule of law is upheld, and in which they have learned to engage, formally or informally, with the market. As they form a sense of belonging to the United States, identifying with Mexico becomes a mechanism of defense against the discrimination they experience. When forced to return to Mexico, they are confronted with a myriad of practical difficulties as they endeavor to continue their life in their country of birth. This opens the paradox I discuss here: forced return to one’s country of birth does not represent return migration but instead poses the risks and difficulties experienced by any migrant seeking to integrate into the destination country, even when this country is, formally speaking, the migrant’s own.

In transiting from one country to another, young migrant deportees or forced returnees experience the contradiction that comes with reaffirming their sense of belonging to the United States while contrasting the identity traits that made them feel Mexican while they were north of the border. In migrating to their country of birth, they must contend with limited employment opportunities but also —and above all— discrimination in the workplace and within the family due to their ignorance of Mexican cultural codes and values. Besides feeling like Americans forced to live in Mexico, these young people —aged between 14 and 29 years (^{Inegi, 2000})— face the challenge of gaining acceptance in communities to which they technically already belong through their family ties and on paper. As they begin their lives in Mexico, returnees regain freedom of movement denied to them in the United States by their undocumented status, albeit with all the caveats faced by migrants in a new country. With this in mind, as we examine this transition from one country to another, strictly speaking, are these young people returning to their country of origin —as the theory would have it— or are they actually migrating there?

Research on young undocumented migrants in the United States has evolved in line with political developments in the country. Studies have centered on the various forms of assimilation of the so-called 1.5 Generation in the United States and 0.5 Generation in Mexico (^{Zúñiga & Giourguli, 2020}; ^{Rumbaut, 2004}): young people who were brought to the United States as children and were socialized there as they completed their primary and secondary (K-12) education, only to learn to live an undocumented life as they enter adulthood or to awaken to the nightmare of the lack of opportunities owing to their immigration status (^{Gonzales & Chavez, 2012}). Some returned to Mexico to pursue higher education (^{Ángel Lara, 2013}) or have joined specific niches of Mexican labor markets (^{Da Cruz, 2014}, ²⁰¹⁸; ^{Serna-Gutiérrez & Mora-Pablo, 2018}; ^{Mora-Pablo, 2020}; ^{Meza-González & Orraca Romano, 2020}).

Other studies have focused on subjective experiences or senses of identity or belonging to a country alien to them (^{Sandoval & Hirai, 2016}; ^{Vila Freyer, 2017b}). Young people mobilized to adjust their status amid tighter anti-immigration measures under the Barack Obama administration (2009-2017) that gave rise to the Great Expulsion of the undocumented (^{Hernández-León & Zúñiga, 2016}; ^{Gonzales, 2008}). They succeeded in getting Obama —who by then had been dubbed “Deporter-in-Chief”— to issue an order on June 15, 2012, granting deferred action from deportation for young people taken to the United States as children (DACA) (^{Ortíz Domínguez, 2018}; ^{Roth, 2018}; ^{De la O, 2017}). Under DACA, young people ceased to be “aliens” and while remaining undocumented, became protected and able to disclose their immigration status freely, adding yet more dimensions to their already heterogeneous identity (^{Ortíz Domínguez, 2018}; Vila-Freyer, 2020).

A focus on youth mobility helps us to move beyond a vision centered on adult, male, and — in the case of Mexico— mostly low-skilled migrant workers (^{Sandoval & Zúñiga, 2016}). By focusing on the young, we can gain empirical evidence on specific issues relating to their migratory experience to answer the following questions: What is (re)integrating into Mexican society like for young people? How has living as a migrant in the United States influenced their everyday lives and the continuation of their lives in Mexico? How do social networks in Mexico impact the reconstruction of their lives? Do they recover a sense of belonging to more than one country?

This article intends to contribute to this discussion by bringing to the fore the perspective of young people whose socialization in the United States has been interrupted and who have had to continue their lives in Mexico. It is informed by qualitative research conducted in Mexico and the United States in 2018, which serves as a springboard to discuss the explanatory limits from two perspectives: the notion of return migrant and transnational relationships. Concerning the first of these, the cases discussed here are those of young people who left their place of habitual residence to settle in the country in which they were born, in contrast to the definition of return migration, namely, “the process whereby people return to their country or place of origin after a significant period in another country or region,” (^{King, 2000}, p. 8). As will be discussed in the appropriate section, the fact these young people were taken to the United States as children and have spent their entire childhood and adolescence there makes it even more complicated to establish a more precise definition of return migration, one that is removed from the dominant structural, adult-centric view.

The second perspective relates to the transnational relationships —mediated by parents— of 1.5-Generation youth. According to the traditional definition of transnationalism, the social spaces linking countries of origin and destination, through which migrants maintain ties to their families, communities, and other social groups (^{Glick-Schiller et al., 1992}), are maintained and cultivated by adult migrants who socialized in these social spaces before leaving them. Children taken to the United States maintain these connections through their parents because their immigration status precludes them from maintaining ongoing contact with these groups and social spaces in Mexico, which are technically their communities of origin. As a result, upon settling in Mexico, 1.5-Generation youth must establish this linkage with Mexico, as a country of destination. Thus, the transnational perspective makes it very difficult to explain whether relationships with the country of origin reestablish, initiate, increase, or redefine young people’s linkages with Mexico, and then with the United States, given the lack of clarity over which is the nation of origin, destination and return in these young migrants’ lived experience.

The following section presents the methodology used to gather information in Mexico and United States. Then I will discuss perspectives to explain migrant return and their limitations in understanding the experience of 1.5-Generation youth who settle in Mexico. Given the difficulty of finding hard data on the potential size of this group, the following section discusses a number of sources that enable us to approximate the number of young returnees to Mexico and Guanajuato, together with the results of an initial reading of the interviews conducted, classified under two themes: the culture shock of their return, examined based on the reason for return, and the intangible social resources that have underpinned the continuation of their lives in Mexico. The paper ends by discussing the conclusions of this analysis.

Methodology

The fieldwork that forms the basis for this article was conducted between May and October 2018 in Mexico and the United States. The research aims to identify how young migrants of Mexican origin —citizens; the documented, undocumented and DACAmented; voluntary or non- voluntary returnees to Mexico— define their sense of belonging to Mexico and the United States, the aspects that make a country home, and the aspects they imagine would cause them, or have indeed caused them, greater difficulty in readapting to Mexico (see also ^{Tse, 2020}; ^{Mora-Pablo, 2020}; ^{Meza-González & Orraca Romano, 2020}; ^{Mateos, 2020}).

I drew on support from the organization Dream in Mexico and 8 Facebook groups (DACA DREAMERS, 3,840 members; AFTER DACA-Finances, mortgage, credit coaching, loans, banking, support, 1,332 members; DACA News & Advice, 1,177 members; Proudly UndocuQueer, 205 members; DACA “Dreamers” Only, 16,125 members; Dreamers Relocating, 214 members; Chicago Area DACA, 94 members; CUNY Dreamers, 591 members) to distribute among their members a SurveyMonkey survey, as I assumed that this would enable me to focus on organized groups of migrants with the characteristics sought.

León was selected because it is the largest city in the state of Guanajuato and home to the headquarters of Dream in Mexico, A.C., an association organized and led by young migrants who returned to Mexico to study in 2008, and a number of call centers. Celaya was chosen based on the fact it is the author’s place of residence and the Universidad Latina de México (ULM) has placed particular emphasis on hiring young returnees as English teachers. The city of San Miguel de Allende has been a retirement destination for U.S. citizens since the 1950s, where young returnees can easily find work using their language and service skills (^{Hagan et al., 2015}). I also interviewed members of migrant federations or consuls from the three cities. At the time of writing, I am in the process of completing the coding of over 1,500 pages of transcribed interviews.

This study is based on the work I carried out in Mexico, in which I obtained 30 responses, although only 20 surveys were completed in their entirety. From these responses, I constructed a sociodemographic profile for young returnees to Mexico and selected three emblematic cases from the 19 interviews conducted in Mexico and three life-story letters from two male deportees from the United States and one female deportee from Canada. As the survey was being circulated through social networks, an effort was made to identify youth from Guanajuato, but given the difficulty of finding young returnees or deportees, I decided to interview young people settled in Guanajuato, regardless of their place of birth.

The surveys and interviews sought to gain deeper insight into young people’s migration trajectory, how being a migrant has influenced their lives, the special skills they report having acquired in comparison to other young people who study or work, and the way they construct the different elements with which they represent their sense of belonging to Mexico and the United States. From this exercise, I selected one of the letters and two interviews consistent with the categorization proposed by ^{Cassarino (2004}): planned return and forced return. I include an intermediate return, which I call a “compelled” return, to describe a family’s decision to return to Mexico following the deportation of a family member, which nonetheless enables the other members to plan and define a timeline for their reunion in Mexico.

Return migration or immigrating to the country of birth?

Citing a United Nations document, ^{Gandini et al. (2015}, p. 30) assert that generally, migration is understood to involve a change in place of residence or place of “habitual” residence, a taking- up of life in a new or different place. They also find three definitions of “return migrant” or “return”:

A literature review offers complementary perspectives to explain migrant return. While some studies consider the length of stay to be an explanatory factor, others elaborate on the structural conditions behind migrant return (^{Gandini et al., 2015}, p. 38). Other authors focus on whether the decision to return or not to return lies with migrants themselves, creating the categories of planned or forced return (^{Cassarino, 2004}). Another consideration is whether return can be viewed as definitive or is part of the migration process (^{Rivera-Sanchez, 2010}), or whether migrants have the resources to reinsert themselves into their place of origin (Cassarino, 2008a, 2008b). The starting point for all these studies is the idea that returning means boomeranging back to the point of departure (^{Hirai, 2013}).

The typologies constructed by ^{King (2000}), ^{Durand (2004}, 2006), ^{Cassarino (2004}, ^2008a) all have in common an adult, migrant worker, low-skilled in the case of Mexico, who may or may not be able to realize his or her migratory project. ^{Durand (2004}, ²⁰⁰⁶) created a typology that included the return of successful or failed migrants; migrants returning permanently, be it because their migratory project or contract has come to an end or for retirement; the return of political refugees; and transgenerational return, which includes the return of parents, children, and grandchildren to the parents’ place of origin (^{Durand, 2004}, ²⁰⁰⁶). According to Cassarino, discourse surrounding return has been constructed in such a way that return migration is seen as the same thing, affecting research on the different categories of migrants and different reasons for returning. As a result, studies have lost sight of return motivations, the temporary or permanent nature of the return, and the resources mobilized in the process, which affect the chances or patterns of reintegration of migrants into their communities of origin (^{Cassarino, 2008a}, ^2008b, ²⁰⁰⁴).

It is migrants’ willingness to return, but also and above all their readiness to return, that allows Cassarino to identify the tangible and intangible resources they mobilize, reinforcing the idea of an autonomous return: “The higher their level of preparedness, the greater the ability of returnees to mobilize resources autonomously,” (^{Cassarino, 2004, p. 275}). The author draws on social network theory to explain the mobilization of resources and exchange of information based on the migrant’s involvement in networks to prepare his or her return. Through these networks, a continuum can be identified between the knowledge and experiences of the host community and the community of origin (^{Cassarino, 2004}). It is as if on returning, migrants simply switch place within the different nodes of their social network, on a continuous line of individual migration history linking the communities of origin and destination (^{Hirai, 2013}).

In addition, in discussing return migration from a perspective of transnationalism, ^{Cassarino (2004}) further maintains that sustained travel and contacts established by migrants with their communities of origin facilitate the preparation of their return while reinforcing migrants’ sense of belonging to the community of origin. In other words, transnational contacts, including temporary visits to the communities of origin, facilitate planning and return and strengthen the structures through which migrants connect to them. In short, they maintain and strengthen the continuous link between the community of origin and the community of destination (Glick- Schiller et al., 1992).

Were all this linearly true, the age of original migration would not preclude us from including 1.5-Generation youth within the existing models and typologies, and neither would the length of time children and young people spend abroad break the linear association that these perspectives assume exists between migrants and the community or country of birth. All the studies discussed employ three core assumptions:

However, in attempting to explain the lived experience of the 1.5-Generation youth, all the above proves inadequate to understand their experience as they settle in Mexico. While it is true that there exists a legal attachment because they were born in Mexico, their return experience is affected by several factors. Firstly, having gone through childhood and adolescence in the United States, migrant children and youth have been socialized in the United States, meaning that they formed a linkage structure within that country, as also experienced by the children of Polish families in Spain (^{Szydłowska et al., 2020}). Secondly, while there does exist a connection to Mexico, it is mediated by the culture of undocumented immigrants who grew up within an education system that treated them as citizens, only for them to reach adulthood and have to come to terms with —or discover— the reality that they are not. They do also have social and family networks in Mexico, but these networks are mediated by their parents, and it is they who maintain day-to-day transnational ties and reproduce cultural and emotional values associated with Mexico and the community of origin, family, cuisine, religion, and language (Szydłowska et al., 2020). Lastly, their undocumented status prevents them from strengthening their transnational linkages as they are unable to travel and establish these linkages or strengthen their social networks with family, community, and country. Indeed, evidence has shown that DACAmented youth who were able to return to Mexico with advance parole strengthened their markers of belonging to the United States (^{Ruth, Martínez-Fuentes, & Vazquez-Ramos, 2019}).

So, is this a case of migrating to one’s country of birth or returning to it? The cases discussed below illustrate the various motivations for young people returning to Mexico and leaving their country of habitual residence. In doing so, their new life in Mexico is sustained within sparse social networks, and although they do have supportive family networks, they have limited ability to access or mobilize private, social, and public resources because these networks are also spaces of rejection and discrimination. This is in stark contrast to their parents’ migratory experience upon their return to Mexico or, conversely, akin to their parents’ experience when they first settled in the United States, as documented in the relevant literature.

Young mexicans migrating to guanajuato, a first approach

Data from the 2010 Population and Housing Census (Censo de Población y Vivienda 2010) reveals an increase in population, attributable to return migration, in all municipalities of Guanajuato. This is important if we consider the fact that, in the previous five-year period, a decrease in population was found in 40% of municipalities (^{Vega-Macías, 2015}). Vega-Macías (2015, p. 35) reports that one key change in the demographic structure of Guanajuato can be found in the population growth rates for children and youth aged 0 to 19 years, which were negative or approaching zero between 2000 and 2005 but began to increase exponentially in the following five-year period. This same finding was reported in a study by ^{Vila Freyer (2015}), which also found extraordinary growth among women aged 30 to 39 years. On reviewing census data in Zacatecas, Moctezuma raises the hypothesis of the return of entire families, who had moved north in the 1990s (^{Moctezuma, 2013}).

In parallel, by comparing the indicators that make up the indices of migration intensity (IMIs) for 2000 and 2010 (^{Conapo, 2001}, ²⁰¹¹), I constructed three return scenarios for Guanajuato: a first scenario in which there is an increase in households with returning migrants in the previous five years, together with a decline in the percentage of households receiving remittances; a second scenario in which there is an increase in returns and the percentage of households receiving remittances remains the same as in the previous five-year period; and the third scenario with municipalities that reported households with an increase in return migrants, but also an increase in remittances received (^{Vila Freyer, 2015}). It is little wonder, given the state of Guanajuato’s centuries-old history of migration, that 31 of the state’s 46 municipalities reported high or very high migration.

The difficulty of finding hard data on deportees who are originally from Guanajuato and settled back in their home state can be explained by the fact that the National Institute of Migration (INM) records deportation events at the points of entry on the northern border. Tables 1 and 2 show these deportation events on the northern border, which totaled 152,417, including 7,124 young people from 12 to 19 years of age and 491 children from 0 to 11 years of age. It is difficult to know if these people returned to the state or settled in border towns or other places where they may have found work.

At a nationwide level, Zúñiga revisits key estimates that allow him to claim that “6.5 percent of the children and young people resident in Mexico had participated in international migration in the five years previous to the census, which, in absolute terms, represented 2.7 million individuals between ages 0 and 19,” (^{Zúñiga, 2018, p. 94}). The same author cites other estimates to report that one million individuals returned to Mexico according to the same 2010 census, which meant that “during the five years before the census, a little more than 250,000 children and adolescents migrated from the United States to Mexico,” (^{Zúñiga, 2018, p. 94}). Citing this same study, ^{Anderson and Solís (2014}) put the number of young deportees and returnees at half a million. This figure was also reported by ^{Mateos (2020}) (Table 2).

Escobar reports that,

[… ] [in addition to] those 980,000 [children and young people] there are another 773,000 who are U.S.-born and did not necessarily return in the previous five years, and who are mostly minors. Although on paper some are Mexican natives and others are not, both groups are part of the return migration flow. These 773,000, mostly made up of under- 16s who arrived in the last five years, would not be in Mexico if the other 980,000 had not returned; in other words, they return because their Mexican parents return. Altogether, 1.7 million people either were born in the United States and later arrived in Mexico or returned recently to Mexico, the result of deportations, removals, and voluntary returns (^{Escobar, 2015}, p. 256).³

Who are These Young Migrant Returnees?

The 30 individuals who answered the electronic questionnaire were 67% male and 33% female, with ages ranging from 15 to over 30 years at the time they completed the survey, as shown in Table 3. A total of 20% of respondents were married and had children.

A total of 40.9% emigrated to the United States between the ages of 0 and 5, while 32% did so between 9 and 12 years of age (Table 4).

A total of 92% lived in the United States for more than 7 years, with 42% living there for 16 years or more (Table 5).

While 74% were not lawful residents of the United States, 9% were able to gain protection through DACA and the remainder held some type of residency papers or citizenship, enabling them to live in the United States (Table 6).

When asked about their life in the United States, 50% said they studied and worked, while the other 50% only studied or only worked. In addition, 96% of survey respondents still had immediate family members living in the United States. An analysis by level of education attained in the United States shows that 39% had completed high school, 24% had completed high school and some technical studies, and 23% had an undergraduate or graduate degree (Table 7).

The reasons for young people’s return reflect motivations that go beyond the 2008 economic crisis (Table 8), although 95.5% of returns occurred in or after that year (Table 9).

The reasons for the return provided in the electronic survey are outlined in Table 8. In 26% of cases, one parent was already in Mexico or had been deported, while 30% returned to study and 26% were deported. Those who selected “other” cited family matters as the reason. In general, it is their deportation or a family member’s deportation that appears to explain why they are in Mexico. One other reason is the high cost of education, which led some young people to leave the United States and pursue study options in Mexico.

Young returnees describe their return as a family strategy. The reason young people cite for returning, in interviews conducted from 2015, is their lack of access to university education. At this point, it is worth bearing in mind that the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program was implemented via executive order by Barack Obama in June 2012.

Because of this, while the father stays in the United States, the mother returns with their children to enable them to continue their education in Mexico (Celina, personal communication, January 26, 2015). The other scenarios are the result of deportations, either of young people themselves or a family member, meaning that they or an immediate family member experienced a forced return (Diana, personal communication, July 28, 2018; Alejandro, personal communication, February 23, 2016). Other cases involve the immigration of children born in the United States who migrate to their parents’ community of origin to enable children to attend university (Paty, personal communication, February 23, 2016). According to the electronic survey, 30% returned to study, while 60% of returnees were working and 9% were both studying and working.

Worker Profiles

The heterogeneous nature of young migrant returnees to Guanajuato makes it difficult to construct a profile for these workers. A third of young people return to continue their higher education. These young migrants work in schools and universities as English teachers, as salespeople, in the call centers of León, and a few cases, in the fields. There is a high level of labor circulation and over the seven years that on average they have lived in Mexico, some have held as many as six different jobs. The interviewees have followed work trajectories that have included a number of jobs, starting with farm labor in their parents’ community of origin before progressing to jobs in the major towns and cities and working in sales, retail, and beauty treatments in San Miguel de Allende, where they combine their English language proficiency with the technical skill of some nature to work their way up to better job positions and increase their income. In León, most hold white-collar jobs and work for example in customer care or call centers, as bank tellers, as doctors and nurses in hospitals, in cell phone sales or credit and collections, or, as previously mentioned, English teachers. A minority return to the fields or construction work, where their upward, geographic labor mobility begins.

In sum, employment quality can be said to be the same as for those without a history of migration. In particular:

The culture shock upon reinventing mexico

The return narratives shared by these young people describe an interrupted assimilation process in the United States. They attended school and grew up in a society where they learned how to secure jobs they consider well paid, scholarships, driver’s licenses, and suchlike, but most begin to experience the stumbling block posed by their lack of papers from the age of 16 when they awaken to a nightmare (^{Gonzales & Chavez, 2012}) and learn that they cannot take a driving test or access university and their vision of their future is limited to construction, gardening, and kitchen work and living life as undocumented migrants in a country they consider their own. Their return is a highly stressful process of cultural change, as young people used to fend off discrimination due to their Mexican identity arrive in Mexico only to find out they are not Mexican, or at least not for the reasons they thought they were. Thus begins a step-by-step process of adaptation, during which they regain this sense of national belonging through an upheaval that is emotional, linguistic, cultural, and economic, among other forms.

Planned Return

Igor, who is from León and was aged 28 at the time of the interview, had returned to his city of origin together with his family two years beforehand, having spent 23 years living in the United States. The return was planned, as returning as a family had been part of his parents’ migratory project and to that end, they already had a house in Mexico, which they had purchased from the United States. The family planned to save up and return with as much money as possible to spend time with Igor’s grandparents, but one passed away early, hastening their decision to return. In León, Igor is an English teacher for businesses and corporate offices in the city. After making all the arrangements to ship their belongings, they moved to their own house in León, the only place in Mexico he had word from.

The United States allowed him to attend high school and learn English. For him, the downside of living in the United States was

It robbed me of the chance to travel. For instance, because most of my extended family is in Mexico, I had no way of communicating, I couldn’t see them. For example, I never met my grandparents while they were alive. Obviously, when I was just a small boy, they met me, but I never had the opportunity to get to know them. There were many family occasions I missed (Igor, personal communication, August 20, 2018).⁴

Compelled or Intermediate Return

Diana is 32 years old and returned in 2011 because her father was deported, after almost 20 years living in the United States. This gave her and her mother the chance to stay another 6 months to plan their return, save up some money and sell whatever they were unable to bring. Her parents were from León and had family there, which explains why they chose to settle there. Initially, they had support from her grandparents before they moved to their own home. Today she works in sales and studies at a private university in León.

She reports experiencing the shock of her return in several stages, beginning with deep depression and a process of adaptation to the drop in her standard of living, improved Spanish proficiency, and a constant clash with the traditional values of society in León. Diana completed high school and a few semesters of college in the United States before she dropped out upon realizing she could never practice what she was studying. She worked as a hostess, banquet server, and service at children’s parties. Her wages were always paid in cash. In her own words,

[…] well, the advantage [I had when I returned] was that I had experience of, let’s say, [U.S. ] culture, how I used to live, obviously, because when I returned it was tough because… well, I was used to a standard —a kind of standard of living and I had to bring myself back down to earth and, well, I learned… I think I’m a little more open- minded than people here… in Mexico, in many aspects, they’re a little more set in their ways and that kind of thing… (Diana, personal communication, July 28, 2018).

Forced Return

Serafín is a 25-year-old who was deported from the United States after living there for over 20 years. He chose to share his story in English. The only child of an absent father and single mother, he recalls a stable childhood in which he never wanted for anything. He first gained awareness of the idea he was living undocumented in junior high school when he found out he didn’t have the same freedoms as his classmates. This realization of his immigration status resulted in a constant endeavor to go unnoticed and avoid the Detroit police and the border police. He was protected by DACA and graduated with honors. For reasons he does not give, he was deported to a country that was unknown to him. For him, the change of country meant a drastic upending of the certainties that derive from the functioning of public institutions and bonds of trust in daily life, and a need to seek pillars of support in the transition between countries. He describes this in the following terms:

As my deportation date approached, aside from the feeling of relief that this ordeal will be over soon, a familiar feeling began to creep in. A deep “stomach twisting” nervousness. This was due to the given perception Mexico has on the global stage in terms of corruption and the Drug War. I did not know what to expect […] What followed was a series of frustrating events with the process of adaptation to my new Home. There’s no amount of research one may take to prepare yourself to live in another country in this situation (Serafín, letter sent via SurveyMonkey, June 11, 2018).

Tradition, Violence, Discrimination, and Adaptation

León is one of Mexico’s five largest cities but is still seen by these young migrants as a parochial, discriminatory society with a narrow-minded population. In addition to his language problems, Igor describes his clash with the traditional values that prevail in his family and immediate surroundings:

[…] one [problem] was the language and culture because, for example, although I spoke Spanish in the United States, the Spanish they speak there isn’t the same as the Spanish spoken here. So, for example, when I spoke to some of my cousins or other people, I had an accent that wasn’t common here. So right away I was singled out… “Ah, it’s because you’re not from here”, “You’re from back there”. There were phrases I didn’t understand, I didn’t understand how certain things worked here. […] and the culture too… because I think here the culture is very traditional […] in the United States [people] were more open, so in the United States I was exposed to more things and that’s not the case here, they’re more traditional here (Igor, personal communication, August 20, 2018).

Diana reports:

[The main challenges I’ve faced? ] […] well, people give you odd looks when you talk in another language or when you have an accent in Spanish… I have tattoos and in Mexico, tattoos are still not seen as normal, especially on a woman […] The main problems are work-related; you don’t have any experience here, you’ve never lived here, and we need someone to refer you, someone from here in Mexico. […] Also getting a house, because at the moment we’re renting […] It’s a challenge for my parents too because here in Mexico it’s more difficult for someone aged 40-45 to get a job… (Diana, personal communication, July 28, 2018).

Serafín summarizes this as follows:

I appreciated the organization the U.S. offered in day-to-day life the more my days accumulated. In Mexico, seeing the huge barrels of water on top of every residential home, hearing the men who refill the gas tanks stroll through the neighborhoods announcing their presence, public buses packed with people hanging out the doors. I gained a huge gratitude for the simple things I took for granted. […] I’ve had over 20 years to learn to live in the USA. Now I have to speed this process up there’s a state of constant awareness Mexicans in Mexico developed through decades of violence and corruption. The ‘be suspicious of everyone you meet and trust no one.’ I believe Americans are overall trusting and kind people, this natural state for me would soon be corrected by my new friends and family here in Mexico. Being constantly told ‘stop thinking like an American.’ There was a significant language barrier I had to overcome and quickly. Once my Spanish was only utilized to conversate with family and the mixture of such and English with my Latino friends now will be my primary tongue. This has shown to be my most significant obstacle… (emphasis added) (Serafín, letter sent via SurveyMonkey, June 11, 2018).

This is compounded by a fear of rebuilding their lives in Mexico as a result of the media image of the country in the United States. For this reason, the problems they faced were different from those they had imagined. Igor recalls that Mexico,

Well [Mexico] had a bad image and we expected it to be bad. Well, before we came, I was scared because I didn’t know what Mexico was like. Because all the media outlets, in the news, portrayed Mexico as being very dangerous: the killings, the executions that were going on… things looked very bad. So, I had that fear that something similar would happen to me (Igor, personal communication, August 20, 2018).

Language was the first element in their identity transition. The second was the clash of values. The third, personal safety. All three have had to undergo a transition, going from the certainty of speaking their mother tongue —Spanish— fluently to realizing, as Spanish becomes their primary language of interaction, that their command of the language is inadequate, with people singling them out and discriminating against them for speaking with an accent. Neither did they expect, upon returning to their city “of origin,” to encounter discrimination due to differences in customs or prevailing values. This is how Igor describes his clash with the surrounding culture: “My friends and family in the United States have helped me. Here, nobody has, absolutely not. Back in the United States, people helped me like friends, but not here,” (Igor, personal communication, August 20, 2018). Diana also feels excluded “for being a woman with visible tattoos,” (Diana, personal communication, July 28, 2018). A country idealized for being the homeland, for its culinary tradition and music, and for being their country of birth, becomes a hostile environment where it takes time to gain an understanding and re-establish social connections. As a result, the first stage of the return process often goes hand in hand with depression.

The way they see themselves appears to reflect their experience of changing country. They experience a feeling of being “Mexicans from the United States” while at the same time also learning to be “Mexicans from Mexico.” This includes commemorating Mexico in civic and religious events different from those that made up their Mexican identity in the United States and establishing social networks for referrals that will help them find better jobs and fight back against the relentless aggression of their surrounding environment.

Well really, Mexico is not what I was expecting. It’s not the country I was expecting. I went through many problems that I did imagine. I think sometimes it’s a little worse than I imagined… Mexico has many beautiful things that sometimes we don’t think it has because we’re more focused on another country than we are on our own… first, I had to get used to being here, kind of like acclimatizing to Mexico. Overcome my depression and realize there’s a future in Mexico, difficult as it may be to believe [… ] [My greatest fear was] the lifestyle and security, the fear of what could happen to us here… (Diana, personal communication, July 28, 2018).

[The main problem] was more adapting to Mexico, to how people live. Adapting, for example, a little more to the Spanish language and understanding how certain things worked were a few of the problems I had, in addition to, for example, problems with family, some things I wasn’t expecting [… ] I still have a lot more to learn about how some things work: how insurance agencies work, what the political climate is like, what the working environment is like [… ] I still have a lot to learn about the culture… [But] everything, everything changed here: my way of thinking, how I viewed the world, how I viewed Mexico, how I viewed myself. It changed because I started to live differently. Only my social networks stayed the same (Igor, personal communication, August 20, 2018).

Mexico also means regaining freedom, learning to rebuild dreams, and imagining the future, in the certainty that there is no turning back:

Ultimately, I find greater freedom here. Back home I always felt like there was a cap on what I could accomplish. Now, I may continue to build a path to my dreams. I may utilize and build on my nonprofit work and community organizing experience for a road towards public service. Here, for me, it’s stars the limit, no cap, no limitations, no excuses [... ] Having the weight of constant paranoia lifted, really did add to a quality of life I have longed for a very long time. It may be an uphill battle here in Mexico, but I see all the tools and opportunities to sculpt a successful, peaceful life (emphasis added) (Serafín, letter sent via SurveyMonkey, June 11, 2018).

The second element of the transition is their vision of the future. This vision appears to be constructed as they gain an understanding of how to relate to the country. As Mexico is not the country where they grew up, initially they are discriminated against and singled out as different. The country does not welcome them, and neither do their families and friends facilitate this transition. They begin to stand out from “Mexicans from Mexico” as outsiders judged and stigmatized for the way they are, the way they dress, and the way they speak. At the same time, they start to identify the reasons why they belong to Mexico now: they recognize the scenery, know they have regained freedom of movement and no longer live in the fear that they might be found, and their immigration status discovered. One key aspect is that, despite spending years in the country, Mexico is not the country in which they imagined building their dream lives, but they can begin to see a future in Mexico. Nevertheless, if they could, they would return to the United States, the now idealized country that Serafín still refers to as home.

The last element is disorientation. In addition to the clashes with family, culture, and language, they experience a sense of disorientation as they are not familiar with the area and have to learn to get around and use public services where they live. This disorientation also derives from the fact they come from a well-organized country with credible institutions to a disorganized one where respect for others is not the foundation of society. This process, which is normal in any move to a new country, is felt even more strongly on account of their emotional connection to Mexico. In addition to the fact, they feel targeted, the lack of information on public transport services and their lack of knowledge of risk areas and distrust of the police, etc., becomes a risk factor.

Moving from the united states to mexico: linkage structures

Almost all the young people interviewed come from a family with a history of migration. Mobility is part of their family culture, and they have personal resources, experience, and first- hand knowledge that their stay in the United States may end one day, and abruptly so. As a result, their personal and family identity repertoires include shared experiences that help them live a life in hiding and ensure continuity and personal and family resilience in the face of the uncertainty of life as migrants (^{Vila Freyer, 2017b}; ^{Vila Freyer et al., 2016}).

What distinguishes these young people from traditional migrants is that they did not choose to migrate, having been taken to another country as children. However, some did choose to migrate to Mexico when a family member was deported. As reflected in their narratives, they were never able to travel back to Mexico or lead a transnational life, with frequent ties to family, values, cousins, friends, and the language, culture, and space; they had no links, no transnational social networks. These linkages were maintained only through their parents. They live in a “golden cage” or “jaula de oro,” a reference to a song by Los Tigres del Norte that came up frequently in our discussions. Indeed, in several interviews, the young migrants referred to this song, which describes how they disconnect from Mexico, the country of their parents to which they do not wish to return because they see themselves as belonging to the United States, a country they cannot leave for lack of papers, to illustrate how they and their parents feel with respect to Mexico.

Some mention this song to explain the difference between them and their parents. Their parents are traditional migrant workers who left Mexico in pursuit of the dream of a better life, one that guarantees a better future for their children, and who maintain transnational links to Mexico, a country they intend to return to one day to retire (^{Vila-Freyer, 2020}). By contrast, the children of these parents learned in school that they belong to the United States, but as they grew older, they clashed with the limitations posed by their immigration status. As young children, they were treated as citizens, but as teenagers, they learned that the system of opportunities was not for them. Their parents’ dream was turning into a nightmare (^{Gonzales & Chavez, 2012}). Moreover, in this context, some of them were thrown out of what they believed was their country and migrated to Mexico, a country to which they had virtually no direct connections.

The move from one country to another has taught them that nothing can be taken for granted and in Mexico, they have to learn to re-establish connections to rebuild their lives. To do so, they have to learn to adapt and build linkages. In that sense, families can become a double-edged sword. On the one hand, they constitute the primary source of basic information on how to obtain identity documents, access education, get to know the area, or find one’s first job. At the same time, families judge them, mock their Americanized social and economic expectations and different mentality, and contribute to their sense of rejection toward Mexican society.

Igor recalls that his family played a key role in rebuilding his life, but this help ran its course, and it was not until he had his social networks that he felt better integrated.

… to begin with, it was with family, some cousins… chatting to them, spending time with them was what helped me at the beginning. But this was somewhat limited because there was kind of a barrier, we couldn’t break down due to the differences between us. But after that, what most helped me to integrate was starting work (Igor, personal communication, August 20, 2018).

Just as family provides them with the warmest welcome —particularly grandparents, who generally provide the first hospitable space— it is uncles, aunts, and cousins who become the first to pass judgment and reject them. They are the ones to criticize and disapprove of tattoos, especially on women, make fun of accents, and remark time and time again on how they do not belong to the Mexican community. In addition, returnees maintain family ties and friendships with the groups they associated within the United States, keeping up contact between the country of origin and destination, although now in the opposite direction. Friendships formed at work help to broaden the sense of community with people who are not like them and with whom they share interests, instead of just blood.

In terms of economic inclusion, what is happening is similar to what Herrera Lima found almost a decade ago: Social networks are a factor of inclusion or exclusion for niches in the job market in the United States. He argues that, just as there are networks that communicate and open up job opportunities, there are others that shut certain community groups away and keep them locked into the lowest, worst-paid job positions in the United States (^{Herrera Lima et al., 2007}).

Young returnees’ first link is with the family and community networks that, due to the lack of opportunities, social mobility, and economic growth, drove their parents out. This affects their return, prolongs the insertion process, and thwarts their expectations when they seek employment or need referrals to switch to a new job. To a large extent, this helps to explain their high labor mobility in the early years after their return, and it is the reason why they begin by working in the fields or as loaders in the main market before moving to the cities to improve their employment and financial prospects by themselves.

Public services and access to education

One other culture shock experienced by young returnee migrants stems from the fact that they come from a country where services are provided in compliance with rules and regulations and where, in general, they are treated with respect and served efficiently, only to learn that on the whole, things do not work the same way for everybody in Mexico. This is an important point because, despite the financial and human resources allocated by local and state governments to respond to the problems of migrants, very few young people have submitted applications or even know of their existence. Some complain about the amount of paperwork required if intermediaries act on their behalf and prefer to handle the process themselves, with guidance from family. ^{Mateos (2020}) and ^{Tse (2020}, ²⁰¹⁹) have examined more closely the problematic process return migrants go through to re-establish citizenship and access social services because the policies are designed for Mexicans settled in the United States.

Added to this is the fact that, even though they are informed by authorities of the dangers they face in the repatriation process, some are less than impressed by Mexican officials and law enforcement. Let us take Serafín’s deportation experience as a case in point:

I could argue my assumptions were proven factual. Taking the walk under the hot sun passing the lines of cars waiting to be admitted. Eventually passing the unimpressive Mexican military officials, we were signaled to a poorly kept government building. Instantly crossing the political illusion, you realize how spoiled one is in a first-world nation. We wait for hours as governments officials struggle to “repatriate” us. As it got dark government officials scramble to finish the documentation process to hear us to a migrant assistance center. The reason for the rush was plain and simple as they explained to us “it’s not safe for you guys.” That was my first 24 hours back in Mexico… (Serafín, letter sent via SurveyMonkey, June 11, 2018).

Furthermore, they feel poorly acknowledged by the government, which they believe is disinterested in addressing their specific needs or demonstrating respect for their social and human rights. Diana says:

I think there should be more support for migrants who return or are deported. I don’t think there’s enough help for them. I think there’s just Programa Paisano and they don’t put much out there. They don’t help you the way you’d hope, not necessarily with

money but in terms of going to certain places to get the documents you need to really start to resettle in the country, and mostly you turn to other people or family members to help you in that sense because they know the government won’t help you… (Diana, personal communication, July 28, 2018).

Igor believes that:

They should be a bit more vocal and publicize their programs, let people know about them. Because when I arrived, I heard bits and pieces here and there, but when I tried to research them, I found nothing. So yes, I think there are a few, but anything that could be put in place should take them into a group and help them. For example, tell them “OK, here’s where you revalidate your studies” … “here’s how you go about getting a job” … prepare them for interviews. Inform them about all that… (Igor, personal communication, August 20, 2018).

The gaps left by the government are filled by civil society organizations. This new problem has given rise to organizations like Dream in Mexico in León and Caminemos Juntos in San Miguel de Allende. The former aims to support, on a case-by-case basis, those who plan to return to education as they look for study options, by producing handbooks that explain how to find job opportunities, study opportunities, and scholarships and how to revalidate their studies. The latter is organized and led by expatriates from the United States who have settled in San Miguel de Allende and addresses the needs of returnees on a case-by-case basis, in particular by referring them to temporary jobs available within their sphere of influence.

Study opportunities are limited and poorly leveraged when offered to returnee migrants. Each university has its entry requirements, further complicating admission processes. Film director Alejandro González Iñárritu opened up the program Reconocer at the University of Monterrey (UDEM), and the Autonomous University of Aguascalientes (UAA) and Tecnológico de Monterrey (ITESM) have opened their doors to whoever can prove academic ability (^{Escobar, 2015}). In Guanajuato, scholarships have been offered exclusively to young deportees in the Universidad de La Salle Bajío and the Ibero-American University (Universidad Iberoamericana, Campus León UIA). Meanwhile, the University of Guanajuato (UG) established the program Puentes (Bridges) to facilitate access to the bachelor’s degree in teaching English (TESOL) (^{Serna-Gutiérrez & Mora-Pablo, 2018}).

Conclusion

… I never imagined a life for myself here in Mexico. My plan was never really to come and live here. [Returning to Mexico] was [planned] for after obtaining our papers. If someday we’re afforded that chance, we’ll only come back to visit. But it was never like we imagined a life in Mexico (Diana, personal communication, July 28, 2018).

The experiences recounted by these young people have shown that they migrate to Mexico either because they were deported or because they decided and planned to do so. The experience is as overwhelming for them as when their parents, dreaming of a life in the United States, left the country. This forces us to rethink the conceptualization of return migration as the notion of returning to a country of habitual residence with which transnational linkages and social networks have been formed. In fact, the cases discussed here show that these young people are leaving their country of habitual residence to return to their country of birth. Mexico is not entirely alien to them because as teenagers, their immigration status forces them to set themselves apart from their peers in the United States, as do their cultural and family references. Just like other young people settled in other countries, the youth of Mexican origin experience one cultural dynamic at home and another cultural dynamic in school and the community (^{Szydłowska et al., 2020}). This experience, which I have called composite identities and multiple belongings (^{Vila-Freyer, 2017}), must be broken down and given a new meaning upon returning to the point of departure. This process appears to mean reinventing Mexico and broadening these young people’s identity repertoires. The experience they had as children separating their family culture from the host culture is played out again, this time as young adults reconnecting with Mexico, their country of birth.

These same narratives allow us to identify the specific dynamics that exist in transnational contacts among parents and children. Parents arrive in the United States with a sense of belonging to Mexico, while children create that sense of belonging in the United States. It is parents who maintain regular contact with social and family groups in Mexico, serving as a bridge to enable their children to maintain this same contact through them. When the children return to Mexico, they maintain contact with their social and family groups in the United States, thus dissolving the dividing line between country of origin and country of destination, leaving it unclear which is which. Parents’ transnational resources when they return are not the same as those of their children, who essentially have to build up basic bonds of trust with their new social and family environment. Living in the “golden cage” meant they were unable to establish ties with Mexico. Upon returning, they draw on the strategies life as a migrant has taught them. In the United States, as undocumented migrants, they learned to be on guard to avoid deportation, seek opportunities for economic betterment, and survive in a hostile environment in which, as they grew older, they were shut out of more and more opportunities. In Mexico, they use these same skills as a means of protection against the uncertainty of the unknown.

Young 1.5-Generation migrants are experiencing a North-South migration. This means that as we examine their experience, it becomes necessary to reconsider the adult-centric view of Mexican migrants as low-skilled breadwinners to endeavor to better understand and explain the social, cultural, political, and economic process involved in rebuilding a life in a country they were born in, but which was never their country of habitual residence. This takes on even greater importance if we consider that the lack of adequate conceptualization results in loaded discourse inconsistent with reality (^{Cvikić, 2020}). Careful thought needs to be given to the content of concepts because ultimately this affects the public policies that target communities of migrants generally and in particular those of return migrants, the complexity and diversity of which we have scarcely begun to properly conceptualize.

Translator: Joshua Parker