Don’t Tell Anyone [No le digas a nadie]. Directed by Mikaela Shwer. Women Make Movies, 2015. 75 minutes.

Split at the Root. Directed by Linda Goldstein Knowlton. Netflix, 2022. 96 minutes.

With the topic of immigration continuing to surface in US national news headlines, an understanding of contemporary immigration policies and their impact on the lives of immigrant community members is especially timely. These two films, Don’t Tell Anyone (No le digas a nadie) and Split at the Root, tell the compelling stories of inspirational immigrant women and their families as they navigate the legal bureaucracy of the US immigration system.1 What distinguishes these films from others on the topic is that they center the voices and perspectives of immigrant community members, and in doing so they highlight immigrant agency and the power of collective community-based countermobilization to punitive immigration legislation.

Don’t Tell Anyone follows Angy Rivera as she publicly “comes out” about her immigration status at an organizing rally, advocates with her New York State Youth Leadership Council peers for the NY State DREAM Act in Albany, and provides advice for fellow undocumented youth through her blog, Ask Angy. We also learn from interviews with Rivera’s mother and three siblings about the far-reaching effects of immigration policies in the lives of undocumented immigrants and their mixed-status kin.

The film opens with a view of the protagonist, Rivera, typing on her laptop and narrating a piece she is writing about her experience as an undocumented person living in the United States. She reflects, “Being undocumented isn’t something we can put in the back of our heads. When I wake up, it’s the first thing I think about. Sometimes, in my dreams, I’m undocumented too” (:11). Rivera’s discussion of an ever-present threat of deportation and the fear that the system seeks to instill in migrants’ daily lives exemplifies much of the academic research on undocumented immigration. This can be seen in the development of frameworks such as Nicholas De Genova’s “migrant ‘illegality’” (2002), Rachel Ida Buff’s “deportation terror” (2008), and Cecilia Menjívar and Leisy J. Abrego’s “legal violence” (2012). For educators, the film offers a unique opportunity to lead discussions with students about the very real impact of these systems on the lives of undocumented immigrants, as well as how the US immigration infrastructure can serve as a target of political mobilization led by undocumented individuals.

As a member of the 1.5-generation, born abroad but having spent her adolescence in the United States, Rivera’s story resonates with that of other undocumented immigrant youth who have become key leaders in the national immigrant rights movement (Gonzales 2008; Nájera 2024; Nicholls 2013). These youth organizers have adopted and refined the storytelling process as a central movement strategy for exerting their agency, which they have implemented alongside advocacy for institutional change through the legislative process (Nicholls 2013; Zimmerman 2016). As Juliana, a fellow member of the New York State Youth Leadership Council, explained, “In a movement like this, you have to be up front with your story because there’s so many. . . news media and people already telling others what we are like, and it’s important for them to put a real face [to the issue], like, ‘listen I’m a human [being], this term undocumented that you’re using, that’s me’” (21:53). For instructors, this part of the documentary can serve as a moment for prompting discussions among students about what it means to center undocumented activists’ perspectives as part of a film, research project, and/or another form of community-based collaboration (Abrego 2024; Schreiber 2018). To do so, one might draw upon the work of a growing number of self-identified “UndocuScholars,” as seen in Rafael A. Martínez’s Illegalized (2024) and Leisy J. Abrego and Genevieve Negrón-Gonzales’s edited volume We Are Not Dreamers (2020). It could also be useful to discuss personal narrative and testimony as foundational aspects of a feminist research praxis (Delgado Bernal, Burciaga, and Flores Carmona 2012; Latina Feminist Group 2001).

Set in the context of the first Donald Trump administration (2017-21), Split at the Root complements Don’t Tell Anyone by focusing on the plight of Central American immigrant women and their families. Within the first few minutes, we are introduced to Yeni Gonzalez, an immigrant mother from Guatemala who sought asylum for herself and her children in the United States. Due to the first Trump administration’s “Zero Tolerance” policy, Gonzalez was quickly separated from her children by Department of Homeland Security agents. A radio interview in which Gonzalez’s story was described by her lawyer caught the attention of Julie Schwieteret Collazo, a mother from New York City. Moved by Gonzalez’s plight, Schwieteret Collazo organized a team of volunteers who fundraised to post bond for Gonzalez and caravanned her from Arizona to New York where she was successfully reunited with her children. Gonzalez then asked Schwieteret Collazo and the other volunteers if they would continue their efforts to help get other immigrant women out of detention and reunite them with their children. Focusing on these efforts, Split at the Root is a story of activism, namely the shift from a grassroots model organized around one mother’s plight to the formation of the nonprofit organization Immigrant Families Together, which has provided assistance to a large number of immigrant women being held in detention across the nation.

Notably, rather than framing Gonzalez’s story and those of the other immigrant mothers, such as Rosayra Pablo Cruz and Irma, as solely one of “push” and “pull” factors shaping individuals’ decisions to leave their homes, the filmmakers draw upon comments from Schwieteret Collazo about the US government’s interventionist policies in Central America and supplement them with additional geopolitical information. These policies led to the mass migration of families from this region to the United States, especially from the late twentieth century to the present. Consequently, the film offers an important opportunity for instructors to incorporate an analysis of US foreign policy and the experiences of the Central American diaspora as they relate to the formation of the contemporary US immigration system.2 With this context, Split at the Root brings into focus key questions such as: What role has US imperialism played in the formation of federal immigration laws and policies? What is the relationship between the varieties of legal categorizations in operation today (e.g., undocumented/DACAmented youth, unaccompanied minors, etc.) and the legal mechanisms available to adjust one’s immigration status, such as U-visa, Special Immigrant Juvenile status, and asylum (Hamlin 2021)? How do these categories (re)produce notions of “deserving” and “undeserving” immigrants and how have movement organizers responded to such framings? What futures do immigrant youth and families imagine for themselves (Canizales 2024; Pallares 2014; Rodriguez 2023)?

Taken together, Don’t Tell Anyone and Split at the Root are much needed films that humanize the experiences of immigrant women and families and illustrate their strength in the face of circuitous and politically charged immigration bureaucracies. These films are well-suited for discussion-based courses on immigration and citizenship, immigrant political activism, gender, and educational equity, among others. Something that educators might consider is offering a content warning to students, given that the films’ narratives touch upon topics of sexual and physical violence. Lastly, in addition to screening these films and discussing the important questions that they raise, instructors could invite representatives from local immigrant-led and/or immigrant-serving organizations to visit their classes (and compensating them with an honorarium) to provide students with a model for ways that they might become involved in these issues, if they are interested, now or in the future.

1 In this review, I refer to people in the films by their last names when they are given; if not, I use their first name.

2 See, e.g., Abrego 2014; Abrego and Hernández 2021; Alvarado, Estrada, and Hernández 2017; Cárdenas 2018; Coutin 2003; Hagan 1994, 2012; Menjívar 2000; Rodríguez 2009.

Kevin Escudero is an associate professor of American studies and ethnic studies at Brown University. His research centers on comparative ethnic studies, US imperialism and militarism, immigration and citizenship, social movements, and law. His book, Organizing While Undocumented (NYU Press, 2020), examined Asian and Latinx undocumented immigrant activists’ cultivation and use of an intersectional movement identity to build coalitions with members of other marginalized communities. As the son of a Vietnamese/Cambodian refugee mother and Bolivian immigrant father, he is committed to supporting all students, including immigrant students, in their pursuit of higher education. From 2016-2017, he served as Special Advisor to the Provost for Undocumented and DACAmented Students, and since 2017, he has been a frequent collaborator with Brown’s Undocumented, First-Generation College, and Low-Income Student Center through the Migration Studies Initiative.