Essential Workers and UndocuJoy in Riverside County
What is Undocumented Joy? For photojournalist Yunuen Bonaparte, it refers to the inherent sense of joy and gratitude that exists in these immigrant communities despite difficult circumstances and injustices. The concept was the inspiration and the theme of a photo project about essential workers in California’s Riverside County called “UndocuJoy,” published on Bonaparte’s personal website.
“Once I heard it, I couldn't get it out of my head,” Bonaparte, herself an undocumented immigrant, said of the concept. “It’s something that we don't speak about much in the immigrant community. Our people are very resilient.”
For the project, Bonaparte traveled from New York City to Southern California’s Inland Empire region to interview and photograph 16 undocumented immigrant workers in Riverside. She collaborated with Luz Gallegos, executive director of the organization TODEC, a local legal center that supports immigrant families in the Inland Empire and Coachella Valley. The space defines itself as a community hub led by people living and working in rural communities. According to the University of California, Riverside, and the U.S. Census data, nearly one million immigrants live in Riverside. Many work in construction and agriculture.
Bonaparte’s objective was to de-center victimization and highlight the sense of gratitude that permeates immigrant communities even amid difficult circumstances like the COVID-19 pandemic. Bonaparte notes that even after the pandemic that forced people into quarantine, many immigrant families in Riverside and beyond did not have the option to work from home. For many who live paycheck-to-paycheck, the rent was due, leaving them no option but to risk exposure.
INVOLVING THE COMMUNITY
Following the theme of transforming border narratives, Bonaparte decided to ask very specific questions of all 16 people. She gave each a blank index card and asked them to write down what brought them joy during the pandemic. She sought to capture what helps these people keep going without delving into their immigration status or asking them to relive traumatic moments. She asked them to take her to a location that brought them joy and to dress however they wished. “I feel like a lot of times reporters or photographers go into those communities and just take (photos),” Bonaparte said. She wanted the people to have a say in their visual portrayal.
Throughout the project, Bonaparte felt privileged because she didn’t find herself having to work in high-risk jobs during the pandemic. That’s because she is a beneficiary of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, commonly known as DACA, a policy that allows undocumented immigrants who arrived in the United States as children to apply for work permits and receive protection from deportation if they meet certain criteria. Bonaparte is familiar with the undocumented immigrant experience, and she understood the challenges and dynamics faced by the people she interviewed; however, she also became aware of the access and privileges she has compared to other immigrants.
‘When things come from the heart, and you really care about something, you have to let it pass through you.’
The individuals participating in Bonaparte’s project had different access levels to information and literacy. An example of those differences in access is Maria Isabel, one of the 16 subjects Bonaparte featured. An older immigrant woman, Maria Isabel, shared that she was happy and grateful to be alive after a serious case of Covid. Maria Isabel is unable to write and opted to print her first name and share, at length, through audio, her experience with Covid and what brought her joy as she recovered. This, in a way, helps transform the narrative because her project showed the gradients in access. The commonalities were joy and gratitude.
The piece focused heavily on love and family. Interviews about joy and gratitude also included a couple who are also beneficiaries of DACA. During the pandemic, the couple decided to move in together and were expecting a baby. The message on their card reads, “Being able to spend time together and moving in together during the pandemic really made us happy and kept us going. We looked forward to decorating our home, having picnics at the park, and going on hikes really kept us going; without DACA, none of this would have been possible because it allowed us employment and helped us provide for ourselves.”
Through her work, Bonaparte also met young immigrants with close cultural ties to indigenous communities in Mexico who have built communities in the Coachella Valley. Natalia, a native of Michoacán, Mexico, was able to retain her indigenous language and Purépecha culture. For her portrait, she wore a traditional outfit from the region with colorful embroidery on the shirt and bodice. Portraits like Natalia’s help transform border narratives because not only do they explore intergenerational ties with culture, they but also shed light on the indigenous immigrant communities building homes in the California desert.
Bonaparte hopes that in addition to seeing immigrants as more than their immigration status and their role as workers, people can appreciate the joy and the motivation that drives these people to get up in the morning with gratitude. She notes that Riverside was selected because it is an often-overlooked region that holds many of these stories. Here, just 200 miles from the U.S.-Mexico border, is a series of small immigrant communities that exemplify joy and resilience. “I feel like every time we think about the Inland Empire and San Bernardino, it's (about) a city that went bankrupt, that is full of gangs and violence, and nobody wants to go to San Bernardino. I think that there aren’t enough (alternate) narratives. The immigrant community is so big there, (but) nobody really pays attention to it.”
The experience of documenting the joy these immigrants experienced in the Inland Empire amid the pandemic, visually and in audio, was moving for Bonaparte. “When things come from the heart, and you really care about something, you have to let it pass through you. You have to really feel what it meant to you in order for it to make sense. I'm proud of the outcome, but it did take some time to get there.”
Yunuen Bonaparte’s profiles of undocumented joy can be explored at www.ybonaparte.com/undocujoy .
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