1. Introduction: The Sociolinguistic Relevance of Spanish in the U.S.
The 2025 election of Donald Trump brought a renewed wave of anti-immigrant sentiment, culminating in mass deportation policies that have instilled fear among immigrant communities. Hispanic immigrants, in particular, face high levels of anxiety due to aggressive ICE (U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement) raids and the widespread perception that speaking Spanish in public may mark them as “undocumented”. This paper explores how linguistic profiling and discrimination contribute to the fear of using Spanish in public spaces, ultimately violating sociolinguistic rights—understood as the right of every individual to communicate in their own language without discrimination and to access education, healthcare, and other essential services in their native language, as stated by the Linguistic Justice Foundation [
1]—and exacerbating social inequalities. Furthermore, it analyzes the repercussions of the White House Executive Order of 1 March 2025, which designated English as the official language of the United States, and its implications for Spanish-speaking communities.
Spanish has been spoken in parts of the United States for centuries, long before English became the majority language. Spanish was the first European language spoken north of the
Rio Grande, brought over by Ponce de León in 1513 [
2,
3], and is now the second-most spoken language in the United States, with a vast network of speakers across different generations and regions [
4,
5,
6]. However, recent immigration policies, particularly those focused on deportation and enforcement, introduce new challenges that extend beyond legal and social issues to linguistic ones, including
linguistic profiling and
language suppression. These concerns have intensified under the renewed immigration policies of the Trump administration in 2025, presenting scenarios in which residents (Green Card holders) and U.S. citizens from Puerto Rico have been detained and taken into custody— in some cases, simply for being overheard speaking Spanish and subsequently being profiled as possibly undocumented immigrants. Such cases further shape the linguistic realities of Spanish-speaking communities in the U.S.
Spanish in the U.S.—like any case of linguistic contact—is deeply intertwined with historical migration patterns, socio-political movements, and the continual interaction between different speech communities. This contact has given rise to various regional dialects, the convergence of which has led to dialect leveling and
koineization [
3,
7,
8], where speakers adopt more neutral forms to facilitate communication in a process of
linguistic accommodation. In a country like the United States, where several Spanish dialects coexist, this contact generates particular linguistic features.
Following Otheguy [
6], the characteristics of U.S. Spanish can be categorized into two types: (a) phonological or arbitrary morphosyntax and (b) lexical and morphosyntactic. For example, regarding type a, phonological variations, such as the aspiration or deletion of /s/, are a key distinction between Caribbean and Mainlander varieties, making it a common subject of study in sociolinguistics [
9,
10,
11]; by contrast, morphological features deal with the use of the clitic “lo”, as in “lo importante es estudiar” [What’s important is studying], in which “lo” refers to the idea of what is important, not to a specific noun.
Type b, on the other hand, refers to lexical and morphosyntactic phenomena that include the incorporation of English loanwords (e.g.,
troca for “truck”) or calques such as
te llamo pa’ atrás (a literal translation of “I’ll call you back”) [
5,
8] and variations in the use of personal pronouns like
tuteo and
voseo [
12,
13,
14]. Nevertheless, it is important to keep in mind that this accommodation varies depending on factors such as the “size of populations, prestige of their varieties, regional origin of the interlocutor, and age of arrival of speakers” [
10]. And although these conditions vary, we must recognize that “[t]he speech of U.S. Latinos reflects conceptualizations unique to U.S. society, which are often different from those found outside the U.S. for equivalent referential situations” [
6], suggesting that Spanish in the U.S. is not merely a transplanted variety but has evolved to reflect unique sociocultural contexts within the country.
Historically, in the western U.S., Mexican Spanish has long been established. After the Texas War of Independence (1836) and the Mexican–American War (1848), “many Spanish-speaking Mexicans changed countries without ever moving an inch; as the popular saying has it, “they didn’t cross the border; the border crossed them” [
7]. Furthermore, the Mexican Revolution of the early twentieth century brought thousands of additional Spanish speakers to the U.S., many of whom settled beyond the border regions.
On the East Coast, Puerto Ricans became a significant Spanish-speaking population, especially after World War II. Many Puerto Ricans migrated to U.S. mainland urban industrial centers in search of economic opportunities, as exemplified by the Puerto Rican diaspora in Philadelphia [
15,
16]. Similarly, Cuban communities were present in the U.S. before the Spanish–American War of 1898, but the largest influx occurred after the Cuban Revolution of 1959, when many fled political agitations.
The 1980s saw yet another wave of Spanish-speaking immigrants [
7], as political instability in Central and South America prompted hundreds of thousands to migrate to the U.S., forming stable and lasting communities. This is the case with the Colombian diaspora in Philadelphia—which was the second-largest Spanish-speaking community in the city after Puerto Ricans in the 1990s [
17], and whose traces are still visible in the city’s linguistic landscape [
18]— and in the Mexicans who “made up 30 percent of all immigrants in the United States” [
16]. These patterns of mobility show the enduring and dynamic presence of Spanish in the U.S. and its deep relation to historical and geopolitical shifts. As Lipski [
7] notes, “[t]he staying power of Spanish in a given U.S. community is dependent on political and economic events outside the borders of the United States, as well as on changing currents of thought and demographic trends within the country”.
The presence of Spanish in the U.S. is not merely the result of recent immigration but is deeply embedded in the country’s history and sociopolitical landscape. From early Spanish settlements to contemporary diasporic communities, Spanish has remained a vital linguistic force, adapting to new contexts and generating new
koines and varieties [
10,
19,
20]. While migration patterns and geopolitical shifts have influenced its distribution, Spanish is not solely an immigrant language; it is a fundamental component of the country’s multilingual identity.
However, despite its historical permanence and cultural significance, Spanish continues to be racialized and politicized in public discourse [
21], often associated with undocumented immigration and perceived as indicative of a foreign presence, a threat to “the supremacy of English and the national culture” [
22], and a scapegoat or common enemy for the dominant society. As Baran [
23] notes, Spanish is frequently linked to the stereotype of the “illegal alien”, reinforcing linguistic discrimination and exclusion. These perceptions, along with contemporary immigration enforcement measures implemented by the Trump administration in 2025, raise pressing concerns about linguistic profiling and the suppression of Spanish in public spaces. Understanding these dynamics is crucial to addressing the challenges faced by Spanish speakers in the U.S. today.
2. The Politics of Language: The Impact of Trump’s Push for English as the Official Language
The designation of English as the official language of the United States under President Trump’s 2025 executive order has further institutionalized linguistic discrimination, disproportionately affecting Spanish-speaking communities. According to the executive order published on the White House’s website [
24], “[a]gency heads should make decisions as they deem necessary to fulfill their respective agencies’ mission and efficiently provide Government services to the American people”. While the policy does not explicitly prohibit government agencies from using other languages in services, it signals a shift toward English monolingualism in government and public services, creating barriers for non-English speakers in accessing healthcare, legal representation, education, or any sort of government services without a legal requirement for multilingual accommodations.
This move reinforces existing power structures that marginalize minority languages and legitimizes social stigmas against Spanish (or any other language) speakers, contributing to a climate in which the public use of non-English is increasingly met with suspicion or hostility. The policy aligns with broader nationalist rhetoric that frames linguistic diversity as a threat rather than a cultural asset [
5,
23,
25], exacerbating fears among Hispanic communities that their language, and by extension, their identity, is under attack.
In their critique of the
One Nation-One Language ideology, Fuller and Leeman [
5] mention that linguistic diversity is often seen as an impediment to national unity and that people are “expected to speak the national language in order to belong”. Consequently, “speakers of other languages are seen as outsiders, and their social and/or political exclusion is naturalized”. Language functions as a gatekeeper; if people do not have access to the language, they are denied access to social participation. As a result, linguistic barriers contribute to systemic exclusion.
A deeper sociohistorical issue is that making English the official language disregards and erases the linguistic diversity of Indigenous peoples who lived on this land long before European settlement. This decision perpetuates their marginalization. As Baran [
23] observes, “The United States history as accepted by the dominant society today erases the existence as well as experience of Indigenous Americans”.
According to the White House [
24], the overarching goal of this executive order is to streamline government communication, “reinforce shared national values, and create a more cohesive and efficient society”. Following this train of thought, having one official language is framed as a way to unify society. However, one can argue that this perspective reinforces a narrow definition of American identity, in which “English monolingualism is portrayed as a transparent representation of American identity, and bilingualism as reflecting a divided allegiance” [
5], implying that promoting English as the sole language could marginalize multilingual communities rather than unify them.
Additionally, the Linguistic Society of America (LSA) [
26] has publicly opposed the designation of English as the official language, arguing that multilingualism strengthens a nation rather than weakening it. According to their statement, multilingualism “improves cognition and health, strengthens communities and brings families together and strengthens our ability to participate as global citizens in a multilingual world”. They further warn that mandating Official English would have the opposite effect, potentially creating more division rather than cohesion. Thus, while the executive order aims for national unity, scholars and organizations caution that restricting multilingualism could undermine the very goals it seeks to achieve. As Flowers [
25] warns, “[i]n order for English to thrive, other languages need to lose”.
Across the world, communities are engaged in struggles to preserve, reclaim, and sustain their languages in the face of sociopolitical pressures. According to Roche [
27], these efforts take four main forms:
language revitalization, where communities work to reclaim severely diminished or extinct languages;
organized language activism, which seeks to strengthen minority languages through structured movements;
heritage language movements, focused on maintaining linguistic ties among diasporic and displaced populations; and
language practice movements, where speakers informally resist linguistic suppression by continuing to use their language in everyday life, even without explicit political goals. By making English the official language of the U.S., the effects that these types of language activism have could be significant, particularly in communities where multilingualism is essential for cultural preservation and public accessibility.
For language revitalization, Indigenous languages in the U.S. may face further marginalization as federal recognition and support diminish. Without clear provisions for Indigenous language preservation, efforts to sustain these languages—such as immersion programs and legal protections—may struggle against declining institutional backing. Organized minority language movements may need to strengthen their efforts, especially as the policy shift signals a preference for English monolingualism. By removing Executive Order 13166—which previously ensured language accessibility—, this new policy can potentially create more challenges for advocates to push for bilingual education, government services, and language rights.
For heritage language movements, the revocation of language access protections could pose challenges for immigrant and refugee communities who rely on bilingual resources for civic participation, legal aid, and public services. The order’s emphasis on English learning may further stigmatize the use of heritage languages in public life, reinforcing pressures for linguistic assimilation, as has happened in the past [
23]. Language practice movements, where individuals informally maintain their heritage languages despite systemic pressures, may become more pronounced as speakers continue using their languages in daily life, even as they encounter increasing institutional obstacles and social repercussions. One particularly pressing issue is
linguistic profiling, in which individuals are judged, discriminated against, or even harassed based on their language or accent, further discouraging the public use of minority languages.
3. Linguistic Profiling and the Fear of Speaking Spanish in Public
As Zentella [
22] notes, “Linguistic prejudices based on ethnicity, race, and class are part of the baggage that immigrants bring with them to the United States”. This historical marginalization of Spanish speakers has laid the foundation for contemporary linguistic profiling as a form of linguistic discrimination.
Linguistic profiling refers to discrimination based on speech patterns, accents, or language choice. Following Dovchin [
28], linguistic discrimination focuses “on the central role that language plays in the enduring relevance of race/racism, institutional/ interpersonal discrimination in the lives of people of colour, ethnic minorities, international students and Indigenous people, who experience linguistic disparity as an everyday lived reality”. Historically, Spanish speakers in the U.S. have been subject to linguistic stigmatization, particularly in the Southwest in the 20th century, where they were discouraged from using Spanish in public and were labeled as “uneducated” [
29]. While attitudes toward bilingualism have shifted, contemporary fears tied to immigration policies and mass deportation efforts reinforce linguistic insecurity. In this climate, speaking Spanish in public may not just invite stigma but also suspicion, making linguistic expression a potential risk rather than a right.
Drawing from what they have called “a raciolinguistic perspective”, Rosa and Flores [
30] explain how linguistic perceptions shape racialized individuals’ experiences. Rather than being judged on their actual language abilities, racialized speakers—such as Latinos in the U.S.—are perceived through the lens of
whiteness, which operates as both a historical and contemporary framework. This means that the simple act of speaking Spanish in public could mark someone as an outsider or as a “threat”, fueling fears of being targeted as an undocumented immigrant.
Linguistic discrimination, as many scholars argue, does not exist in isolation but intersects with racial and ethnic biases [
21,
23,
30,
31,
32]. Rather than an issue related to communicative proficiency, language becomes a proxy for racialized exclusion, reinforcing structural inequalities. For instance, research on linguistic racism [
28] shows that individuals who experience language-based discrimination often suffer from anxiety, social withdrawal, and even suicidal ideation. With this in mind, I would argue that the current political climate in the U.S., marked by increased deportation efforts and immigration raids, could be heightening linguistic insecurity among Latino communities, leading to self-censorship and further alienation.
Nowadays, despite longstanding critiques of deficit perspectives in sociolinguistics, these harmful views continue to shape public attitudes. As Rosa and Flores [
30] highlight, bilingual Latinos can achieve high levels of education and navigate multilingual spaces effectively, yet their Spanish and English abilities remain stigmatized. This paradox is nothing but an example of how language discrimination is less about actual proficiency and more about the racial ideologies that determine whose speech is valued and whose is suspect; as explained by Baran [
23], “white L2 speakers are given more leeway to sound non-native than Asian, Latino, or black speakers, whereas (…) simply seeing an Asian face can make an American listener believe that they hear a non-American accent”. In today’s sociopolitical context, such biases are not just persistent but are likely to intensify, reinforcing exclusion and linguistic marginalization.
The combination of the current political climate and the United States’ long history of linguistic prejudice has fostered widespread fear of speaking Spanish in public among Latino immigrants. Linguistic profiling and discrimination create systemic disadvantages, affecting social mobility, mental health, and educational opportunities. As Baran [
23] states, “[t]hroughout these Latino-phobic discussions, the issue of language is frequently raised in ways that, again, reinforce the idea that English is the American language and that immigrants are a threat when they do not speak it”.
This perception not only stigmatizes bilingual speakers but also upholds broader structures of exclusion. Recognizing linguistic rights as human rights is essential to combating discrimination and ensuring that all individuals, regardless of their language background, can navigate public life without fear. Beyond individual experiences, linguistic discrimination reinforces existing power imbalances, restricting marginalized communities’ rights and limiting economic and academic opportunities.
The targeting of Spanish speakers through anti-immigrant policies and rhetoric is not just a matter of prejudice but a direct challenge to (socio)linguistic justice. If these patterns persist, they will deepen social inequalities and undermine efforts toward linguistic equity and inclusion.
4. The Role of Schools and Churches in Language Maintenance
Increased ICE raids and deportation threats have led to a decline in school attendance among immigrant children, particularly those from Latino communities. When schools are no longer seen as safe spaces, families keep their children at home, fearing that attending could put them at risk of being targeted by law enforcement. Historically, schools and churches have been spaces where linguistic and cultural expression could flourish [
16,
33], but recent immigration policies have made them sites of concern, with law enforcement actions extending to educational and spiritual environments. As reported by Brian Mann [
34] in NPR news, “[t]he Trump administration says it will no longer consider churches and schools off-limits to agents tracking down and arresting migrants without legal status”. But what are the consequences of these actions taking place in schools and religious temples, and how can the inability to use one’s language affect the Latino population?
Reyna Grande [
35] recounts her own experiences in the educational system: “[w]e weren’t praised for being bilingual, nor were we taught the value of bilingualism”. In Grande’s environment, speaking Spanish was often seen as an obstacle rather than an asset. This reflects a broader societal contradiction, as Baran [
23] points out: “[d]espite the increasing popularity of Spanish or Mandarin dual immersion programs among white, middle-class parents, immigrants speaking non-English languages continue to be constructed as a threat to traditional American ways of life”. While bilingualism is celebrated when embraced by privileged groups, it is stigmatized when associated with immigrant communities, reinforcing linguistic inequality and cultural marginalization. This linguistic suppression—where students are mocked or rejected for using their native language—fosters a negative self-image and can compromise academic success. The emotional toll of living under constant fear might result in anxiety, depression, and a lack of motivation to pursue higher education or career opportunities for Spanish heritage speakers, and kids who are currently facing this threat might start thinking about their language, culture, and identity as something “inferior”.
Just as with schools, churches—long viewed as sanctuaries for community and linguistic expression—, are also being impacted by the current political landscape. Churches have served as important shelters for maintaining cultural identity and linguistic practices among newly arrived immigrants, supporting them, and helping them navigate a new country and culture. For many Latino communities, the church has been a place to gather, pray, and communicate without fear of discrimination [
18,
36]. However, with the increasing presence of law enforcement in public spaces, including religious institutions, these once-safe spaces are now under threat, forcing speakers to retreat from open linguistic expression.
The disruption of these safe spaces due to immigration enforcement not only disrupts linguistic practices but also impairs community cohesion. As individuals and families feel the pressure to self-censor, the role of the church as a support system is weakened, leaving individuals isolated and cut off from vital cultural connections. This mirrors the experience in schools, where bilingualism is not nurtured or respected but instead suppressed.
The broader emotional and psychological consequences of this linguistic suppression are significant. As Reyna Grande [
35] reflects, the trauma caused by educational and social institutions that shamed her into speaking only English is something she is still dealing with. This self-imposed linguistic silence has long-lasting effects, including diminished self-esteem, alienation from one’s cultural roots, and the erosion of identity. This psychological toll extends beyond the individual to communities, where linguistic and cultural loss further deepens feelings of marginalization.
The U.S. is a multilingual nation and the attempts to enforce monolingualism not only ignore this reality but also threaten the rich linguistic diversity that defines American society. There are real-life consequences of linguistic profiling, which can lead to social exclusion and diminished opportunities; the suppression of Spanish in schools and churches, along with the broader societal marginalization of bilingualism, puts the value of linguistic diversity in jeopardy, erodes community cohesion, and damages the cultural fabric of the U.S. Simply, as stated by Zentella [
22], “the real-life consequences of linguistic profiling are no laughing matter”.
5. Advocating for Sociolinguistic Justice
As I have argued, the current socio-political situation in the United States might result in a profound linguistic crisis that threatens the fundamental human right to linguistic expression. The fear of being labeled an “illegal immigrant” based on language use highlights a dangerous reality: linguistic profiling has become a tool for exclusion, reinforcing raciolinguistic ideologies that devalue the language practices of racialized communities [
30].
The targeting of Spanish-speaking communities by institutions like ICE creates a hostile environment that threatens linguistic diversity and cultural identity. The fear of speaking Spanish, even in traditionally safe spaces like schools and churches, is more than just linguistic discrimination; it is an assault on human rights and social cohesion. Language is not merely a communication tool but a profound expression of identity, history, and culture. Just as Spanish has been marginalized, so too have the languages of Indigenous peoples and immigrant communities. As Baran [
23] argues, understanding history from an Indigenous perspective challenges the dominant narrative that portrays Spanish speakers and other linguistic minorities as outsiders and “allows us to question assumptions we may have about those ‘crossing the border’ from the South, about Spanish speakers and other linguistic minorities in the United States, and certainly about any claims that English is by default the American language”. This clearly exemplifies how linguistic discrimination is deeply tied to broader patterns of exclusion and power, reinforcing the need to protect linguistic rights as fundamental human rights. As stated by Gotera [
1] and the Linguistic Justice Foundation, linguistic oppression is a form of structural violence imposed by states to enforce linguistic homogeneity.
Protecting linguistic expression in schools, churches, and public life will ensure that Spanish continues to evolve as a dynamic language in the U.S. Instead of allowing fear to dictate linguistic choices, advocacy for sociolinguistic justice must center on fostering policies that value rather than suppress this linguistic and cultural diversity. As Fuller and Leeman [
5] argue, “knowing the history of Spanish and Spanish-speakers is crucial for a full understanding of US history”. A nation that truly values diversity must recognize that its strength lies not in linguistic conformity but in its multilingual heritage. Ultimately, language rights are human rights. The preservation of Spanish in the United States is not just about maintaining a language but about protecting the fundamental dignity of communities, recognizing the value of linguistic diversity, and challenging systemic mechanisms of exclusion.
Finally, I would argue that the designation to make English the official language of the United States appears to be motivated not by commercial or economic considerations but rather by a cultural and nationalistic ideology that aims to strengthen a particular vision of American identity while potentially marginalizing those who speak other languages. As stated by Flowers [
25], “this discussion is not just about immigration—it is about perceptions of language, race, and citizenship more broadly”. This move is not about practical concerns or linguistic efficiency but rather about asserting power and control, making life more difficult for some while benefiting others.
Indigenous languages existed in U.S. territory long before European settlers arrived, yet this history is often erased in discussions of language policy. Spanish has been part of the United States for decades and has developed unique linguistic variations over generations. However, its speakers face linguistic profiling and discrimination, creating fear among speakers about using their own language in public. As Mooney and Evans [
37] observe, language is never neutral; it is inherently political. The designation of English as the official language serves as a symbolic tool of exclusion, reinforcing social and political hierarchies. As the LSA [
26] states, we must “continue to support, protect, and promote multilingualism and linguistic diversity in the United States”.