Immigrant stories have increased greatly over the past fews years, seeming to be only encouraged by the 2016 election and current political climate. Years ago, having immigrant characters at all was considered transgressive. 
They had to be used sparingly, and with vagueness surrounding their background. This often resulted in some pretty offensive portrayals. Frustratingly, even though change is clearly happening, it is still happening slowly. According to a study of TV programming done by The Opportunity Agenda, even as recently as the 2014-2016 TV season, “Storylines about unlawful activities accounted for 25 percent of storylines involving immigrant characters,” and “A troubling 50 percent (four of eight) of Latino immigrant characters were represented committing an unlawful act.”
Another tactic for tackling immigration related issues was through metaphor. Horror and Sci-fi have always been genres that lent themselves easily to touchy subject matter, but feature films have not been the only format to go that route. For example, the early 2000s teen alien show, Roswell, was a show that clearly paralleled undocumented immigration.
The new wave of television, which has brought with it more content, and higher production value, seems to target an audience that prefers more nuanced stories and characters, and appreciates shows that push boundaries and buttons. However, even now, for a television series to feature an undocumented immigrant character is to make an overtly political statement.
I come from a film and television production background, and I have always felt particularly strongly about the television medium. TV has a certain power over American culture, and that power has arguably grown tenfold since streaming has taken over. Even though we watch it differently now, we continue to have a relationship with episodic television that is more personal and significant than our relationship with film or other storytelling mediums. We watch the latest episode of a show, or binge the series in its entirety, and then we go to work and have conversations in break rooms, via text with friends, or on reddit message boards. The stories from the shows we watch stimulate conversation and change the way we see our world.
It is extremely exciting to think about what the possibilities hold now that more and more women, people of color, and queer folks are gaining access to behind-the-scenes and on-screen positions. At the moment there are two wildly popular television series that prominently feature undocumented stories. Both are comedies and are able to present these stories in a way that is respectful without sacrificing the levity that makes them so watchable.
Since the beginning, The WB’s Jane the Virgin has been groundbreaking on many fronts. Most important though, is its perspective. The main character, Jane, is a Venezuelan-American woman living with her mother and grandmother in Miami. Even the white characters are immigrants, with the exception of Jane’s boyfriend. The series has broken through many boundaries, but perhaps one of the most impactful and timely storylines has been that of Alba, Jane’s undocumented grandmother.
In the beginning of the series, Jane is accidentally impregnated by her OBGYN. That sounds insane, but keep in mind this is a comedy that satirizes soap operas and telenovelas. Jane wants to sue her doctor but ultimately decides not to because of her grandmother’s undocumented status. She doesn’t want to risk having her exposed and deported. This is an excellent example of how immigration status can affect someone’s sense of security and right to justice. 
The anxiety over Alba’s status has come up several times throughout the course of the series, but the most serious would be during an episode where Alba is in a coma at the hospital. The hospital staff become aware of the fact that Alba lacks U.S. citizenship, and informs her family that she will be deported as soon as she wakes up. She ultimately avoids deportation because of her involvement with a criminal investigation, but not before the cheeky narrator inserts his own unfiltered opinion through the use of the show’s trademark graphics, telling the audience “Yes this really happens. Look it up. #immigrationreform.”
Another critically acclaimed comedy, NBC’s Superstore, has incorporated an undocumented character. Mateo is a young Filipino-American gay man working at a Walmart-esque box store called Cloud Nine. His story is different from Alba’s, but just as relevant. During season 2, Mateo complains to his co-worker about not being able to vote because he is Asian-American. The co-worker explains that Asian-Americans are indeed allowed to vote. This discussion leads to Mateo’s realization that he is undocumented, and while it retains the series’ signature humor, it parallels many younger immigrants’ stories. While most people are probably aware that there are no arbitrary laws forbidding people from voting based on ethnicity or race, there are many young immigrants who have been brought to the U.S. illegally by their parents or guardians and are not aware of their status until much later, when it affects their ability to do typical adult things like vote, or get a driver’s license, as was the case for award winning journalist, Jose Antonio Vargas. Mateo’s story certainly parallels Vargas, and even makes me wonder if it was meant to be a direct reference to his famous New York Times essay, especially since both the character Mateo and Vargas are from the Philippines and identify as gay.
Vargas’ famous essay, in which he comes out as undocumented, details all the ways that keeping his secret affected his life decisions and mental health. Superstore viewers get to see an example of this anxiety through Mateo’s storyline as well. His romance with a regional manager requires him to transfer to another store, but when he realizes that he will have to supply a social security card that he does not have, he calls off the transfer as well as his romantic relationship.
Having these types of discussions and situations presented in a very broad comedic tone is an essential contribution to social progress, and is in fact a form of protest and resistance against a conservative government. Showing marginalized people in a light that isn’t tragic or criminal has long been, and continues to be radical. And it is a kind of radical that can reach across the aisle. Because some people watching may have minimal interaction with immigrants, it is imperative that these characters are portrayed in such a way that is not wholly defined by citizenship status, let alone tragedy. The progress may seem small now, but these shows expose audiences across the country to characters and issues that they might not see otherwise, and their ratings and critical successes pressure other networks and executives to further the progress.
There are many new shows slated to premiere in the next year or so that will continue the discussion of immigration reform on television. There is a reboot of Roswell, for example, and according to creators there will be a more direct approach to the subject matter. There is also a reboot of the 90’s family drama, Party of Five, but this time much of the tension will be derived from the siblings’ undocumented status. It will be interesting to see how shows that identify more as dramas will handle immigration storylines, as comedies have proven to be very effective, if not slightly limited, in their ability to address such complex and emotional topics.
