Read more about the episode here.

Maria Hijonosa: “Hello!” 

Andrea Elliot: “So good to see you.” 

Maria Hijonosa: I’m in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, and I’m meeting up with Pulitzer prize-winning journalist and writer, Andrea Elliott. 

Andrea and I are standing on a sidewalk in front of an imposing red brick building. There are leafy trees scattered around on a trimmed lawn. And it turns out that this place means a lot to Andrea.

Andrea Elliot: “What an incredible privilege to share this space with you.” 

Maria Hijonosa: ” Oh my God!” 

Andrea Elliot: “This pavement we’re standing on is like sacred ground, as far as I’m concerned.” 

Maria Hijonosa: “I know, I know. Are you teary-eyed?” 

Andrea Elliot: “Yeah.” 

Maria Hijonosa: “What’s going on?” 

Andrea Elliot: “It’s just bringing back a lot.” 

Maria Hijonosa: “Tell me, tell me everything that you’re feeling.” 

Andrea Elliot: “Well, this is where it all began. “

Maria Hijonosa: In fact, Andrea’s life is forever intertwined with this location. It’s a shelter known as the Auburn Family Residence. A rusted black fence surrounds the building. I can see benches near the entrance and hear kids playing nearby. It looks like a welcoming place, but it wasn’t that way when Andrea first came here.

The story begins more than a decade ago, when Andrea began to report on Dasani Coates, an 11-year-old girl who is black and who lived in that shelter. Andrea. who’s an investigative reporter for the New York Times, also met Dasani’s family at that shelter. 

Andrea published a series of articles at the New York Times about Dasani in 2013, and she kept on reporting on her and her family for more than eight years.

That reporting material eventually turned into a book titled “Invisible Child: Poverty, Survival, and Hope in an American city.” And it won the Pulitzer prize for General Nonfiction in the year 2022. 

The book opens with stories about Dasani’s family. At that point, they were living in the Fort Greene shelter, which is where we are standing right now.

Andrea Elliot: “It’s actually literally where it began, where we’re standing. This spot that I staked out in those early days as I was trying to find a way in, and not just a way into this shelter and this world, but into the heart and mind of a child, right? I hadn’t found the kid. And I just was like pacing back and forth, back and forth, talking to whomever was willing to talk back, because a lot of people just didn’t want to talk to me.” 

Maria Hijonosa: Andrea tried to keep a low profile at first. She spent months talking to people coming in and out of the shelter, trying to better understand what life was like on the inside. 

Andrea Elliot: “And in the back of my mind, I was thinking, I need a child who can really narrate her experience, who can share it. I was talking to the moms and they kept saying, you’ve got to talk to this one mother whose family of 10 is sharing one room, which is right, was right there on the fourth floor, all of them crammed into one 520 square foot room. And that was Dasani’s family. And I’ll never forget the moment I finally set eyes on them. They walked out of that entrance in single file…”

Maria Hijonosa: “Oh my God!”

Andrea Elliot: “…With Chanel, the mom, at the front like a drill sergeant, because this is how she trained her children to survive.” 

Maria Hijonosa: “You can’t mess with us.” 

Andrea Elliot: “You can’t mess with us, and we are, we’re orchestrated. We work together. We don’t come apart. And she just gave me this like… ‘Who the hell are you?’ sort of look, like dead in the eye kind of stare, which she later explained to me was her practice power move, but like (LAUGHS) she’s hilarious, and we started talking and like for every 10 words that she said, this squeaky little voice intervened and it was the voice of her daughter, Dasani, who just wanted to keep butting in. And everything that came out of the kid’s mouth, I was practically crying from just gratitude. It was like, she was hilarious. So smart, so wise for an 11-year-old, so self-aware, and just eager to share. It was just like my dream come true.” 

Maria Hijonosa: There was a certain type of life force that swirled around this family, and especially Dasani, who was named after the bottled water. Her mom, whose name is Chanel, saw this expensive bottled water as a sign of an indulgence that the family could not afford, but that they dreamed of. 

Andrea Elliot: “She was on the honor roll. She woke up every morning and looked out her window at the Empire State building to see what color it was lit up in. Just outward looking and outward reaching. Wanting to beat everyone else at pull ups, wanting to be the fastest kid on the block, wanting to interrupt her mother every 10 words to tell me the real deal. She was just expressive and she was aspirational, like her name. That’s all the good stuff, right? When I realized the bad stuff, that she was covering up in a way or not sharing as readily in the beginning. Learning that she was on the honor roll went from, wow, that’s impressive, to, oh my God, that’s a miracle.”

Maria Hijonosa: At the time, both of Dasani’s parents were addicted to drugs. The family went through periods of homelessness, they struggled to get enough food to eat, and there were moments when their eight children were separated from them, and kept by Child Protective Services.

Andrea Elliot: “For all of that exertion and energy and reaching, there was also so much pain. There was more loss in that little 11-year-old body than most adults will ever see. This isn’t a story of the one who got out. It’s the story of all of the kids who, despite the many gifts they bring, are trapped in, are kept inside, and it’s because of forces that are way beyond their own control. And so that’s what I came to learn. In the beginning, I was like, this is a special kid, she’s, we’re going to see magical things happen and we’re going to learn something maybe about how you escape this world. And in fact, what I came to see, not just in that year, but in the many years that followed is, this is not a world that we should want to escape, it’s a world we want to fix.” 

Maria Hijonosa: (MUSIC) From Futuro Media and PRX, it’s Latino USA. I’m Maria Hinojosa. Today a conversation with journalist Andrea Elliott on documenting life on the margins of power and on the role of journalists of conscience. (MUSIC) 

“Invisible Child” won the Pulitzer prize in the category of General Nonfiction in 2022. But that wasn’t Andrea’s first Pulitzer prize. Fifteen years earlier, in 2007, for the New York Times, Andrea won her first Pulitzer, this one for feature writing, specifically for her post 9/11 reporting on Muslim communities.

Andrea has worked at the Times for 21 years, where she’s currently an investigative reporter. And before the New York Times, Andrea was at the Miami Herald, covering crime, immigration, and Latin American politics. 

Her bond with Latin America runs deep. She’s the daughter of a Chilean mother and an American father.

Andrea’s reporting has always centered on covering people living at the margins of power. 

On today’s episode, we’re going to talk about how Andrea’s bicultural upbringing helped her to better connect and report on communities that she’s not a part of. And we’re also going to talk about how journalists like Andrea or myself, who are in a way outsiders in the mainstream media, can help to bring issues like systemic poverty and injustice to the forefront of the American conscience.

Now we’re going to continue the conversation with Andrea Elliott, this time from our studio in Harlem, New York City.


When I say Andrea, tell us about your arrival story. I mean, you were born in this country, right? But it’s your family’s arrival story, and it’s a pretty intense arrival story. 

Andrea Elliot: So my family comes in two parts, very much like I do. So there’s the American side, which is my father, who is from a small town outside of Buffalo, New York, and who went to Harvard on a full ride from a public high school and then went as a Harvard Law student to Chile. And there, in 1968, at a picnic, helped a very beautiful law student named Maria Gloria Carvajal Romero, helped her onto a horse.

Maria Hijonosa: 


Andrea Elliot: And that is where our family began, with that gesture. They fell in love and she came to the United States to make a life with my dad. 

But we wound up as a family planting roots of all places in Gainesville, Virginia. It’s where I took my first steps. It’s where I spent my first four years of life. And it is also the place where a lot of our Chilean family arrived, fleeing Chile for their safety, after General Augusto Pinochet took power in a violent coup in 1973.

Archival tape: “Comandantes en jefe titulares y almirantes que se han autodesignado.”

Maria Hijonosa: In fact, on a date that is auspicious, right, that happens on September 11th, 1973. So you’re this little girl, you’re growing up on this farm in Virginia, Washington, D. C. The capital is very close by. You understand that you’re American through and through, but also there’s all this Spanish being spoken. 

Andrea Elliot: I’m not sure I understand anything other than the weird little, like, bubble that I was growing up in, which was this mishmash of things.

It was 4th of July and the flag, and at the same time, mostly Spanish running through my ears and out of my mouth, actually. That was my first language. Actually, one of my first favorite words was “Rico.” “Qué rico.” 

Maria Hijonosa: (LAUGHS)

Andrea Elliot: And I kept hearing about this place called Chile. Chile. I was just surrounded by this constant longing for this place called Chile, which I didn’t know anything about because I was, we, we couldn’t go there.

And so I had to imagine it and I remember imagining it very much as a globe, as this kind of spheric thing filled with little things that were “rico,” like cakes and beautiful things, like little birds that were chirping. Literally, this is the image that comes to mind, and I think that was a weird thing to witness as a young child, was a bunch of grown ups crying over something that I couldn’t see. (MUSIC) 

Maria Hijonosa: You were seeing your mom crying? 

Andrea Elliot: Oh, yeah. I mean, basically, my mother’s brothers, Tomás and Lucho, fled for their lives. They were leftists, they were on the wrong lists. 

Maria Hijonosa: Because this is when the right wing dictatorship, with a lot of support from the United States and the CIA, takes over in Chile, ousts a democratically elected president who tended left, socialist, independent, and so young people like your uncles were being murdered and disappeared.

Andrea Elliot: Right. 

Maria Hijonosa: And they find refuge in this farm. 

Andrea Elliot: So this was in back in the era where you could send a paper airplane ticket by mail, which my father kept doing to, to fetch my grandmother. And then we’d go to the airport to pick my grandmother up and off the plane would come another uncle. Literally, like you could just take the plane ticket and board it as someone else, and that’s, that was then. And so we had a kind of constant stream of people coming to seek refuge. 

Maria Hijonosa: So let me ask you this. How did you feel? What did you identify with? Because I wasn’t born here, so I definitely knew that while I was close to Americana, I was not American. But how did you see yourself then?

Andrea Elliot: I wish I could say I was fully aware of it and had profound thoughts as a child to offer about this, but I actually think the way that most kids relate to an experience is not to see it as different so much as to just see it as the thing that they’re in and you just adapt. 

And so if I look back on that period, specifically, like sort of the time when I started going to first grade, which is really when the issues or the questions around identity would first arise, those were just really exciting moments in which I tried to pass for whatever was around me. And so, what I do remember is sometimes feeling like we were different or weird or not like everyone else. And I think that always made me aware of difference from a very early age. I never felt like I was fully one thing.

And so this hyphenated identity, this hyphen that links Chile and America, that’s how I saw myself. I am Chilean-American. I’m both things. You know, so just always toggling between those two and never feeling like you’re one thing entirely, I think is a thing that leads a person to be curious about other people.

Maria Hijonosa: Which leads me to that precise issue, right? Because in your career, I know that the first time I start noticing your byline is around September 11th. This was when you focused on covering what was happening with the Muslim community in New York City and beyond. And you really went deeply into this community and helped so many people humanize the entire Muslim community that after September 11th was being demonized, criminalized in many ways. And I’m wondering how you think about your outsiderness as what you just said, it means that you’re curious about these other communities. 

Andrea Elliot: It means I’m curious about everything. And I think if I have one talent, it’s to see the story that’s hiding in plain sight. And that’s what happened with the beat I created around Islam and post-9/11 America.

It was a huge story that we were missing and I had just gotten to the newspaper, by the way. This was 2003. So it’s a couple of years after the terrorist attacks. I was at the Miami Herald prior to that. And there’s something about arriving fresh. You just see things that other people don’t see, right? 

And I mean, this was ground zero, literally, right? So the paper had been focused on two stories. The story of the victims, obviously, and the story of the perpetrators. And those were the major stories to be covering. But there was this third community, right? There was basically kind of this weird hybrid of the other two. They were seen as the perpetrators, and yet they were really victims because they belong to the 99 percent of Islam that does not actually carry out violence.

The only reason I noticed it is because I was sent out on a breaking news assignment. I literally was told: “In 500 words, capture what it’s like to be Muslim and American in Brooklyn right now. It’s going to be a sidebar to a big news story that’s running the next day.” And I actually went to Midwood, Brooklyn, and within five hours I had in my hands a beat that would consume me for the next seven years.

Now, was I the right person to tell that story? Absolutely not. I always say I’m the wrong person for every story. I think you have to go in as a journalist feeling that if you want to get it right. You need to know that you’re going to be humbled over and over and over again. But I went in as a reporter, and I went in curious, and so that was how it happened.

Maria Hijonosa: You end up bringing your first Pulitzer for Feature Writing in 2007. A lot of it because of this kind of work around the Muslim community. And at that point, one of the things that you did is that you also, you had a capacity for empathy. 

Andrea Elliot: Yeah. 

Because we bring into our stories, as much as we try to be separate from them, our own stuff.

And what do I mean by stuff? It’s not just family history. It’s the history of the heart, right? It’s the ways in which struggles have played out in our own lives that then enable us to connect with people we’re writing about, even though we’re supposed to be so separate. And so, quote-unquote objective. Actually, the thing that gets the story is that connection so often. (MUSIC) 

Maria Hijonosa: When we come back, I continue my conversation with Andrea Elliott, and we’re going to talk about the so-called rules of journalism and how Andrea navigated ethical challenges while reporting on Dasani and her family. Stay with us. ¡No te vayas!


Hey! we’re back. And when we left off, we learned about how Andrea Elliott’s upbringing as a Chilean-American helped her to better report on communities that she wasn’t always a part of. Let’s get back to my conversation with journalist Andrea Elliott about her Pulitzer Prize-winning book, “Invisible Child.” 


You were able to find your way into being recognized as a great journalist and writer at the New York Times, not an easy feat. So you tell the New York Times, you boss-woman, say we need to cover childhood poverty, homelessness, homeless families, something is happening in our city. 

Andrea Elliot: Yeah, well, this has its roots in a very personal place, which is both the place of motherhood and that’s a figurative place, and then the literal place.

So I was on maternity leave with my second baby, and having been in the postpartum territory, it’s not easy, and I also, though, was thinking, “God, what do I want to do next? I have this pause, this incredible moment of respite.” And I pulled off of my shelf, this book that was like covered in dust because we don’t do the best job at home…


From high school, but that was this like eternal classic by Alex Kotlowitz called “There Are No Children Here,” which is a beautiful work of narrative nonfiction about these two brothers growing up in the projects in Chicago. I hadn’t looked at it since high school, and I start reading it again. And that’s when a light went on, and it was just a new idea. I was like, well, how much has changed? It was literally just a question. It was just a question. 

And the first answer I got to that question led to a whole new set of questions, because it was shocking, and that was: nothing’s changed. Almost nothing. Sure, the safety net’s gotten a little better. But basically, 20 years after this book came out, we had the same child poverty rate in America, one in five. It’s like one of the biggest child poverty rates in the world, by far the worst among superpowers. So… why? And then that just led me down the path of wanting to write about child poverty and I’ve made a pitch to do it and was very lucky to have the editors that I have who we were very aligned.

Maria Hijonosa: So, Andrea, one of the things about your work with “Invisible Child” is that you make it clear that yes, this is a story about one child, one family, but frankly, you make this into a story about our country. This is a story about systemic issues of poverty and deep racism in one of the world’s most advanced, capitalist, industrialized, and wealthiest cities.

Can you talk a little bit about this decision to say, look, it’s not about just this shelter in Brooklyn. This is about centuries of history in our country. So what did you set out to do? 

Andrea Elliot: What I can tell you about the process itself was sheer terror. (MUSIC) It was maybe a year or two into reporting out the book to try to do right by all of the signposts that I had encountered as a reporter while reporting the original series.

That I started to see, oh my god, this is a story about everything. That’s how it felt. It’s a story about everything in America. What was most important to me was, I think, to allow the book to follow the same process that I had experienced as a person in Dasani’s presence. I went in thinking it was one particular story.

It was one thing. This thing called homelessness, which is a label. It’s a label that we give to a problem. And I then proceeded to see that each label was a signpost leading to another label, which then led to another label, and they were interconnected. You couldn’t understand homelessness without looking at poverty, and you couldn’t understand poverty without looking at race, and you couldn’t look at race without looking at centuries of trauma, essentially, and all of these things ran through this family. (MUSIC) 

Maria Hijonosa: So, you first published a series of articles about Dasani in the New York Times in 2013, and well, because it’s the New York Times, right? Dasani gets this extraordinary attention, right? I mean, she’s at the mayor’s inauguration with Bill de Blasio. People start sending her money, she starts getting offers, and for you, Andrea, this presents like this critical and strange challenge as a journalist. 

Andrea Elliot: There’s a lot I will never know about the impact of my presence. What I can say with all certainty is that in the aftermath of the series running, Dasani’s life momentarily changed. She went from “invisible child” to “most visible child” in the city. 

Maria Hijonosa: (LAUGHS) That’s so true. 

Andrea Elliot: And that stayed that way for I would say a few weeks, and then all the attention waned, and money came into legal aid, legal aid set up a trust for the family. The family chose mostly not to take that money, but to put it away for college. They were trying to be disciplined, they wanted all the same things that other parents want. I really believe that. 

And it’s kind of striking to me how little changed ultimately given the impact that the series had, I was expecting more of a kind of foundational change and what I saw was that the problems of poverty run so deep and they are so intractable that, that this minor kind of influx of attention and even funds for college really did little to change the family’s life.

And so then it became, well, what am I following? Because I continued to follow her life. What am I seeing unfold that really is just an authentic experience of a family struggling with poverty? 

Maria Hijonosa: But the core thing was, and this is again, why did Dasani become the central character of your work is because Dasani is a deep individual… 

Andrea Elliot: Yes she is. 

Maria Hijonosa: …Complex and she is not actually going to let herself get pushed around, and the thing that you write about, right, was that she was like, I’m not going to change who I am. To be here in this place of so much privilege. And that’s a pretty extraordinary story for a child, a young woman who is said to be a victim, to not have a voice, you know, et cetera. No, she’s actually… 

Andrea Elliot: She never saw herself as a victim. She always had a voice. (MUSIC) And that’s why I always have a problem with the idea of giving a voice to the voiceless. The voicelessness is in our own context, right? It’s that we haven’t allowed for those voices to be heard. Those voices are heard by others. She was not invisible. 

This title comes from Dasani. It came from her own observation about how she wasn’t seen. She sees herself, she can see herself in the mirror, her family can see her, her community can see her. But this broader world that’s totally out of her reach, where these extremes coexist as well, of wealth and, and poverty, in that world she wasn’t seen. And so she was seeing her invisibility. (MUSIC) 

Maria Hijonosa: Did you ever have a situation where your editor said, you know what, we think you’re just getting a little bit too close, need to pull back a little bit? Did you pay for that piece of pizza? You know, those kinds of things. 

Andrea Elliot: Oh, well, those kinds of conversations were constantly happening. 

Maria Hijonosa: Because you had to say, look, she got out of school, she was hungry, I bought her a slice of pizza.

Andrea Elliot: Let’s talk about the roles of journalism and how misaligned they are with the reality of vulnerable people when you’re actually writing about folks on the margins, right? So the rules are important. They keep our work sacrosanct, hopefully, or at least integrity-filled. They’re worth defending. And those rules include things like we can take a source out to lunch, but we’re going to pay.

We’re not going to allow the source to treat us. Okay, fine. I know the places where City Hall reporters take their sources. What was to stop me from taking Chanel to the same place, which I did, and at the time, it’s probably way more now, she balked at the fact that a hamburger was 16 dollars. She said, “Do you know what I could do with 16 dollars?”

I said, “But I want you to experience, because I’m allowed under our rules, with this credit card that says New York Times on it, to take you to lunch, you are my source, so let’s meet here and have lunch.” Usually we would go to places like McDonald’s. This was kind of a one off, but I just, I always think back to that moment because of the way she challenged me, “But if you just gave me these 16 dollars.” “But I can’t.”

And what about that? And how weird is that rule? Because what if the transaction for the person is the food itself? Then how does that rule work? The rule is: no cash can exchange hands, we don’t pay people for a source. Obviously, and for a very good reason. But then it becomes much more complicated when you look at the norms of the newsroom, at the kind of structure of rules that assume that the source and the reporter belong to the same class.

Maria Hijonosa: Correct. 

Andrea Elliot: Right? I think a lot of the conversations early on, which were so important, were about whether or not to step in. Whether or not to intervene, it wasn’t about money because our rules were clear, but it was what if you see something that merits actually getting in the middle of things because otherwise you are accepting suffering as a reporter, which is just unacceptable, right?

A child can’t suffer in front of you without you wanting to do something about it or even morally being obligated to do something about it. And so that became this constant, constant struggle that we were wrestling with in the newsroom. Very specifically, it centered around Dasani’s tendency to get into really brutal, violent fights after school.

And, the photographer Ruth Fremson, who’s a war photographer, and I would break these fights up because we are the responsible adults, right? We’re hanging out with Dasani. We don’t want to see this kid we care about get beaten up or beat up anyone else. What are we supposed to do? Just watch kids tear apart each other? No.

So I talked to Chanel. I was like, “We’ve had a meeting at the newsroom. We feel really uncomfortable watching Dasani get into fights. But we do feel that it’s important to capture the reality. If she gets into another fight in front of me, do I have your permission to simply observe what happens?” And she was like, “Absolutely! Like, why are you breaking up the fights? This is part of our culture. Who are you to be judging our culture?” And you know, there are people, by the way, within Chanel’s culture who would also argue with her and say, that’s not our culture. So there’s lots of perspectives, but I was there to tell this family story.

And so we agreed the next time we would not intervene. And it was probably the worst moment of my life as a reporter because I watched Dasani get beaten up. 

Maria Hijonosa: (MUSIC) I find it interesting that two Latinas who win Pulitzers, you with your book, myself with the Suave podcast, and yet the both of us are constantly questioning our field, pushing journalism, pushing these ethics that were created by I don’t know, Joe. 

Andrea Elliot: Mad Men era newsroom norms. 

Maria Hijonosa: And I wonder if what you think about that, the fact that the both of us, right, we kind of are these outsiders who are deeply on the inside and yet the both of us are saying, but the humanity of this, but there’s a system here that is so much bigger than us. And so what is our responsibility? 

Andrea Elliot: I think, I love that you frame it like the two of us as Latinas. I think it’s a broader family of reporters of different backgrounds, including people like Casey Parks at the Washington Post. 

Maria Hijonosa: Or Alex Kotlowitz. In other words, it’s journalists of conscience.

And I tie it back to Frederick Douglass, Ida B. Wells, Jovita Idar. They’re journalists, but they were journalists of conscience. And you don’t have to be not white to be a journalist of conscience. 

Andrea Elliot: Where I was going is just like journalists who are getting these stories. that are not typically seen, heard, or even known, right? And that requires engaging with parts of America that don’t follow the same rules as these organizations that we represent. 

And so that then naturally brings to the surface this kind of reckoning, right? What are the rules? What should they be? There is no guidebook, really, for this kind of reporting, reporting on the vulnerable.

And so, what do we do? And I think one thing we do is we square with the reader. So that’s where the integrity, I think, gets protected of the work. It’s if I’ve crossed a line, I’m going to say that I did, and here’s how and why. Just so you know, these were the rules, and these were the times where maybe the rules ended up getting forgotten.

Maria Hijonosa: So, Andrea, you know, we try to be as transparent as we possibly can, try to be as honest as we possibly can, and yet our profession, the profession of journalism, we’re being attacked left and right. And we continue to lose people in our profession. For example, in 2023, it’s being called the Great American Layoff of Journalists, which yeah, it included Futuro Media, which broke my heart, but many of the journalists laid off across the country were Latinos and Latinas. Many of them who report specifically about these communities that are vulnerable. So how are you, Andrea, kind of processing this moment of understanding our profession in this precise historical moment. 

Andrea Elliot: What I always come back to is regardless of the business model, regardless of the fluctuations of the market, regardless of the way that people are getting their news and how that shakes up newsrooms and budgets. The hunger and need for human story is permanent. It is so central to our existence as people. And I have to believe that because that’s a fact, that stories are as important as the air we breathe, that journalism will find its way. I have to believe that, otherwise, we’re basically in end times. And then what does that look like?

You have to have that hope. And the hope isn’t even in, oh, we’re going to figure it out. No, it’s that we need stories. We need, we survive on other people’s stories. We are carried forward by the examples of others. Story is so central to who we are as people. And so, therefore, there will be a way. (MUSIC) 

Maria Hijonosa: Andrea Elliott, thank you so much for all of your work. Thank you for being a great colleague and a great journalist, great writer. 

Andrea Elliot: Maria Hinojosa, you are my longtime hero, and I couldn’t be happier to be on this show with you. So thank you for having me.


This episode was produced by Reynaldo Leaños Jr. It was edited by Marta Martínez. It was mixed by Stephanie Lebow. The Latino USA team includes Victoria Estrada, Andrea López-Cruzado, Glorimar Márquez, Mike Sargent, Nour Saudi, and Nancy Trujillo. Peniley Ramírez is our co-executive producer. Our senior engineer is Julia Caruso.

Our marketing manager is Luis Luna. Our theme music was composed by Xenia Rubinos. I’m your host and executive producer, Maria Hinojosa. Join us again on our next episode. In the meantime, you can find us on all social media platforms now, including TikTok and YouTube you know, I’ll see you on Instagram.

Hasta la proxima. ¡No te vayas! Ciao! (MUSIC) 

Stephanie Lebow: Latino USA is made possible in part by WK Kellogg Foundation, a partner with communities where children come first. New York Women’s Foundation. The New York Women’s Foundation, funding women leaders that build solutions in their communities and celebrating 30 years of radical generosity. And funding for Latino USA’s coverage of a culture of health is made possible in part by a grant from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation.

Maria Hijonosa: Exactly. It was like, wait, what is the subway doing right underneath my apartment? Alright, well we made it. We survived the second New York City earthquake in the 21st century.

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