“In Structured Luck, Onoso Imoagene gives us an unparalleled look into the U.S. Diversity Visa Program, revealing its far-reaching effects on the life trajectories of migrants and its role as a catalyst of the migration industry in countries of origin. Through rich interviews and careful institutional analysis in the United States, Nigeria, and Ghana, she offers us a critical assessment of the program’s reputation as a windfall lottery and shows us that luck, in this case, is painstakingly made through strategic responses to policy constraints.”
Natasha Iskander, James Weldon Johnson Professor of Urban Planning and Public Service, New York University

The Diversity Immigrant Visa Program is a lottery that awards winners from underrepresented countries the chance to apply for legal permanent residence in the United States. Most lottery winners think of themselves as lucky, viewing the win as an opportunity to pursue better lives for themselves and their families. In Structured Luck, sociologist Onoso Imoagene uses immigrants’ stories to show how the program’s design often leads to their exploitation in their origin countries, the interruption of their education, and reduced potential once they are in the United States.

Combining ethnographic observation in Africa and interviews with over one hundred immigrants from Ghana and Nigeria, Imoagene demonstrates that the visa program is a process of “structured luck,” from how people hear about the lottery, who registers for it, and who participates in it to the application requirements for the visa. In Ghana and Nigeria, people often learn about the lottery through friends, colleagues, or relatives who persuade them to enter for the perceived benefits of receiving a visa: opportunities for upward mobility, permanent legal status, and the ability to bring along family members. Though anyone can enter the lottery, not everyone who wins obtains a visa. The visa application process requires proof of a high school diploma or artisan skills, a medical exam, a criminal background check, an interview with U.S. consular officers, and payment of fees. Such requirements have led to the growth of visa entrepreneurs, who often charge exorbitant fees to steer immigrants through the process. Visa recipients who were on track to obtain university degrees at home often leave in the middle of their studies for the United States but struggle to continue their education due to high U.S. tuition costs. And though their legal status allows them to escape the demoralizing situations that face the undocumented, these immigrants lack the social support that the government sometimes provides for refugees and other migrants. Ultimately, Imoagene notes, the real winner of the visa lottery is not the immigrants themselves but the United States, which benefits from their relatively higher levels of education. Consequently, she argues, the U.S. must do more to minimize the visa program’s negative consequences.

Structured Luck illuminates the trauma, resilience, and determination of immigrants who come to the United States through the Diversity Visa Program and calls for the United States to develop policies that will better integrate them into society.

ONOSO IMOAGENE is associate professor of social research and public policy at New York University, Abu Dhabi.

“As the Latino population has grown in the United States, it has been racialized along the lines of legality and nationality, compelling middle-class Latinos who ‘look Hispanic’ constantly to have to identify themselves as not being undocumented, unskilled Mexican migrants. This dynamic plays out differently in different regions of the country, depending on the local history of immigration and the actual ethnic and class origins of the region’s Latinos. Irene Browne’s probing analysis of college-educated Dominicans and Mexicans in greater Atlanta is brilliant in revealing the dilemmas, complexities, and burdens that prevailing U.S. stereotypes create for middle-class Latinos of Afro-Caribbean and mestizo origin, especially within a region historically characterized by a rigid Black-White color line. Precarious Privilege reminds us of the need to always look beyond the narrow confines of stigmatized ethnoracial labels to see the true nature of the individuals they purport to describe.”
—DOUGLAS S. MASSEY, Henry G. Bryant Professor of Sociology and Public Affairs, Princeton University

“Since 2005, southern states have been plagued by rising anti-immigrant sentiment and immigration policy restrictionism, racializing the experiences of all Latines as ‘poor,’ ‘undocumented,’ and ‘Mexican.’ In this compelling book, sociologist Irene Browne takes us deep into the lives of middle-class and professional Mexican and Dominican immigrants in Atlanta, Georgia, who simultaneously experience but also marshal class-based identities and resources to resist such stigmatization and prove their worth. Absolutely essential reading for anyone interested in better understanding the U.S. Latine population’s remarkable internal diversity today.”
—HELEN B. MARROW, associate professor of sociology, Tufts University

In recent years crackdowns on immigrant labor and a shrinking job market in California, Arizona, and Texas have pushed Latine immigrants to new destinations, particularly places in the American South. Although many of these immigrants work in manufacturing or food-processing plants, a growing number belong to the professional middle class. These professionals find that despite their privileged social class and regardless of their national origin, many non-Latines assume that they are undocumented working-class Mexicans, the stereotype of the “typical Latine.” In Precarious Privilege, sociologist Irene Browne focuses on how first-generation middle-class Mexican and Dominican immigrants in Atlanta respond to this stigmatizing assumption.

Browne finds that when asked to identify themselves by race, these immigrants either reject racial identities entirely or draw on belief systems from Mexico and the Dominican Republic that emphasize European-indigenous mixed race identities. When branded as typical Latines in the U.S., Mexican middle-class immigrants emphasize their social class or explain that a typical Latine can be middle-class, while Dominicans simply indicate that they are not Mexican. Rather than blame systemic racism, both Mexican and Dominican middle-class immigrants often attribute misperceptions of their identity to non-Latines’ ignorance or to individual Latines’ lack of effort in trying to assimilate.

But these middle-class Latine immigrants do not simply seek to position themselves on par with the U.S.-born white middle class. Instead, they leverage their cosmopolitanism—for example, their multilingualism or their children’s experiences traveling abroad—to engage in what Browne calls “one-up assimilation,” a strategy that aims to position them above the white middle class, who are often monolingual and unaware of the world outside the United States. Middle-class Latines’ cosmopolitanism and valuing of diversity also lead them to have cordial relations with African Americans, but these immigrants do not see themselves as sharing African Americans’ status as oppressed minorities.

Although the stereotype of the typical Latine has made middle-class Latine immigrants susceptible to stigma, they insist that this stigma does not play a significant role in their lives. In many cases, they view the stereotype as a minor issue, feel that opportunities for upward mobility outweigh any negative experiences, or downplay racism by emphasizing their class privilege. Browne observes that while downplaying racism may help middle-class Latine immigrants maintain their dignity, it also perpetuates inequality by reinforcing the lower status of working-class undocumented immigrants. It is thus imperative, Browne argues, to repeal harsh anti-immigration policies, a move that will not only ease the lives of the undocumented but also send a message about who belongs in the country.

Offering a nuanced exploration of how race, social class, and immigration status intersect, Precarious Privilege provides a complex portrait of middle-class Latine immigrants in the United States today.

IRENE BROWNE is associate professor of sociology at Emory University.

"When Care Is Conditional brings together trenchant analysis and deeply moving humanity to understand the barriers faced by Latinx immigrants and their strategies for well-being as they negotiate conditional care in the United States. Through nuanced research and the voices of ordinary people, Dani Carrillo shows how immigration policy, residential location, and, especially, gender shape who can get help, how much, and under what conditions. Beautifully written, this book is a must-read for scholars, policymakers, and philanthropists dedicated to advancing everyone’s well-being."
—IRENE BLOEMRAAD, Class of 1951 Professor of Sociology, University of California, Berkeley

"When Care Is Conditional is a critical reassessment of the failure of social protection in the United States through the lens of low-wage immigrants. Dani Carrillo offers a bottom-up examination of the patchwork of safety net institutions and the perennial difficulty of accessing them. In doing so, she disrupts the idyllic view of the suburbs and reveals how immigrant networks and civil society try to help fill in the gap. More than just a structural accounting, this book centers the importance of cultural narratives and stigmas in reinforcing 'conditional care' and in doing so helps us understand the dynamics of exclusion for all vulnerable racialized communities."
—SHANNON GLEESON, Edmund Ezra Day Professor and chair, Department of Labor Relations, Law, and History, Cornell University

"Dani Carrillo deftly weaves policy history with personal narratives of Latinx immigrants to lay bare how restrictive immigration policies undermine the well-being of families that too often are living in the shadows of our communities and society. The book comes at a critical time in our national, state, and local dialogue around immigration and social policy. When Care Is Conditional is critical reading for scholars, policymakers, and practitioners alike."
—SCOTT W. ALLARD, Associate Dean for Research and Engagement and Daniel J. Evans Endowed Professor of Social Policy, Evans School of Public Policy and Governance, University of Washington

From its inception, the public safety net in the United States has excluded many people because of their race, gendered roles, or other factors. As a result, they must prove their moral worthiness to get resources for themselves and their families. In When Care Is Conditional, sociologist Dani Carrillo reveals the ramifications of this conditional safety net by focusing on one particularly vulnerable population: undocumented immigrants.

Through in-depth interviews with Latinx immigrants in northern California, Carrillo examines three circumstances—place, gender, and immigration status—that intersect to influence an individual’s access to health care, food assistance, and other benefits. She demonstrates that place of residence affects undocumented immigrants’ ability to get care since more services are available in urban areas, where many immigrants cannot afford to live, than suburban areas, where public transportation is limited. She also shows that while both men and women who are undocumented have difficulty obtaining care, men often confront more challenges. Undocumented women who are pregnant or mothers are eligible for some government safety net programs and rely on informal coethnic networks or a “guiding figure”—a relative, friend, neighbor, or coworker—who explains how to get care and makes them feel confident in accessing it. Most undocumented men, in contrast, are not eligible for public programs except in a medical emergency and often lack someone to guide them directly to care. Men sometimes steer one another to jobs through worker centers—where they may learn about various services and take advantage of those that increase their employability, like English or computer classes—but a culture of masculinity leads them to downplay medical problems and seek health care only in a crisis.  

As undocumented immigrants navigate this exclusionary system, Carrillo finds that they resist the rhetoric stigmatizing them as lawbreakers. Dismissing the importance of “papers” and highlighting their work ethic, they question the fairness of U.S. immigration policies and challenge ideas about who deserves care.

Carrillo offers concrete recommendations, such as improving labor conditions and reexamining benefit eligibility, to increase access to care for not only undocumented immigrants but also people who have been excluded because of their race, criminal record, gender identity, sexual orientation, or disability. She argues that working with and across populations creates a powerful form of solidarity in advocating for inclusive care.

When Care Is Conditional provides compelling insights into how safety net and immigration policies intersect to affect people’s everyday lives and calls for a cultural shift so that the United States can provide unconditional care for all.

DANI CARRILLO is a senior researcher and civic technologist.

American Educational Studies Association Critic's Choice Book Award Winner

"In Meanings of Mobility, Leah Schmalzbauer carefully and in precise detail documents the costs—psychic and embodied—of children of immigrants’ class mobility through elite educational pathways. Driven by love and a desire to make good on parents’ sacrifices, poor and working-class students of color understand that academic excellence only leads to financial success when they can proficiently enact the cultural norms of privileged whiteness. Readers get to witness through these students’ own accounts how they make sense of the tough choices an elite college education presents: the spectrum runs from returning to community to contribute to social justice to leaning into racial capitalism to acquire wealth."
—LEISY J. ABREGO, professor and chair, Chicana/o and Central American Studies, UCLA

"A compassionate and detailed exploration of how young adult children of Latin American immigrants navigate a privileged college environment. Leah Schmalzbauer follows the stories of a new generation of young adults who attend a top liberal arts college, seeking an education in elite spaces while balancing family obligations and the stress of the COVID pandemic. Highly informative and deeply moving, Meanings of Mobility sheds light on how higher education works for a select group, and what needs to change to provide such access to others."
—JOANNA DREBY, professor of sociology, University at Albany

"With penetrating prose, Leah Schmalzbauer provides an intimate portrait of how poverty shapes undergraduate life at even the wealthiest institutions of higher education. Moreover, she forces us to grapple with the simple yet overlooked fact that students do not come to college alone; families come to college. Through revealing interviews with students and their families, Meanings of Mobility outlines the pitfalls and promises of pursuing higher education for the most vulnerable members of society. And with care and attention born of a dedicated scholar, Schmalzbauer provides insights into what can be done to make our institutions not just accessible, but inclusive."
—ANTHONY A. JACK, assistant professor of education, Harvard University

Over the past twenty years, elite colleges and universities enacted policies that reshaped the racial and class composition of their campuses, and over the past decade, Latinos’ college attendance notably increased. While discussions on educational mobility often focus on its perceived benefits – that it will ultimately lead to social and economic mobility – less attention is paid to the process of “making it” and the challenges low-income youth experience when navigating these elite spaces. In Meanings of Mobility, sociologist Leah C. Schmalzbauer explores the experiences of low-income Latino youth attending highly selective, elite colleges.

To better understand these experiences, Schmalzbauer draws on interviews with 60 low-income Latino youth who graduated or were set to graduate from Amherst College, one of the most selective private colleges in the United States, as well as their parents and siblings. The vast majority of these students were the first in their immigrant families to go to college in the U.S. She finds that while most of the students believed attending Amherst provided them with previously unimaginable opportunities, adjusting to life on campus came with significant challenges. Many of the students Schmalzbauer spoke with had difficulties adapting to the cultural norms at Amherst as well as with relating to their non-Latino, non-low-income peers. The challenges these students faced were not limited to life on campus. As they attempted to adapt to Amherst, many felt distanced from the family and friends they left behind who could not understand the new challenges they faced.

The students credit their elite education for access to extraordinary educational and employment opportunities. However, their experiences while in college and afterward reveal that the relationship between educational and social mobility is much more complicated and less secure than popular conversations about the “American Dream” suggest. Many students found that their educational attainment was not enough to erase the core challenges of growing up in a marginalized immigrant family: many were still poor, faced racism, and those who were undocumented or had undocumented family members still feared deportation. The challenges they faced were only intensified by the COVID-19 pandemic. 

Schmalzbauer suggests ways institutions of higher education can better support low-income Latino students and lower the emotional price of educational mobility, including the creation of immigration offices on campus to provide programming and support for undocumented students and their families. She recommends educating staff to better understand the centrality of family for these students and the challenges they face, as well as educating more privileged students about inequality and the life experiences of their marginalized peers.

Meanings of Mobility provides compelling insights into the difficulties faced and the resilience demonstrated by low-income Latinos pursuing educational and social mobility.

LEAH C. SCHMALZBAUER is Karen and Brian Conway ’80, P’18 Presidential Teaching Professor of American Studies and Sociology, Amherst College 

"This highly accessible and engaging book is rich with sociological insight. While recognizing the inevitable sorting role of schools, the authors offer a creative road map towards a more equitable future in education—and in life."
—ADAM GAMORAN, president, William T. Grant Foundation

"We all know that schools sort kids into good and bad jobs. This elegant little book reminds us that schools are also relentless categorizers inside their gates: the free-lunch kids learn they’re poor, the honors kids learn they’re special, and the ‘first years’ learn they’re far from first. Schooled and Sorted makes a brilliant case for regaining control over the categories that define our children’s lives."
—DAVID B. GRUSKY, Edward Ames Edmond Professor in the School of Humanities and Sciences and director, Center on Poverty and Inequality, Stanford University

"Schooled and Sorted makes a convincing case that it takes more than just skill-building curricula and effective teachers for a school to provide its students with ladders to the middle class. When schools also make well-intentioned efforts to boost achievement and motivate students by grouping or categorizing them, the results can be counterproductive. This book explains why and what can be done about them."
—GREG J. DUNCAN, distinguished professor, School of Education and Departments of Economics (by courtesy) and Psychology and Social Behavior (by courtesy), University of California at Irvine

We tend to view education primarily as a way to teach students skills and knowledge that they will draw upon as they move into their adult lives. However, schools do more than educate students – they also place students into categories, such as kindergartner, English language learner, or honor roll student. In Schooled and Sorted, Thurston Domina, Andrew M. Penner, and Emily K. Penner, explore processes of educational categorization in order to explain the complex relationship between education and social inequality – and to identify strategies that can help build more just educational systems. 

Some educational categories have broadly egalitarian consequences. Indeed, Domina, Penner, and Penner argue that when societies enroll young people in school, making them students, they mark them as individuals who are worthy of rights. But other educational categories reinforce powerful social categories – including race, gender, and class – and ultimately reproduce social and economic inequality in society. Elite colleges, tracked high schools, and elementary school gifted programs provide not only different educational experiences, but also create merit and inequality by sorting students into categories that are defined by the students who are excluded.

Schooled & Sorted highlights that many of the decisions that define educational categories occur in school-based committee meetings and other relatively local settings. The local nature of these decisions provides many opportunities to define educational categories differently, and for school communities to bring about change. 

Schooled & Sorted is an illuminating investigation into the ways sorting within schools translates into inequality in the larger world. While some educational categorization may be unavoidable, the authors suggest ways to build a more equitable system – and thus a more equitable society.

THURSTON DOMINA is Robert Wendell Eaves Sr. Distinguished Professor in Educational Leadership, University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
ANDREW M. PENNER is a professor of sociology, University of California, Irvine
EMILY K. PENNER is associate professor of education, University of California, Irvine