The story of language in immigrant America continues to be made every day, and in recent decades it has been influenced by the sociocultural and political trends brought about by globalization and technological innovations that have made communication and the exchange of ideas more immediate and accessible than ever. In response to these trends and the changes they cause, researchers in the humanities and social sciences have developed theoretical accounts that Arnaut and Spotti (Reference Arnaut and Spotti2014) refer to as “superdiversity discourse.” The authors describe it as “rest[ing] on the growing awareness that over the past two and a half decades the demographic, socio-political, cultural, and socio-linguistic face of societies worldwide has been changing as a result of (a) ever faster and more mobile communication technologies and software infrastructures, along with (b) ever expanding mobility and migration activity related to major geo-political changes around 1990” (Arnaut and Spotti Reference Arnaut and Spotti2014: 2; cf. Rampton et al. Reference Rampton, Blommaert, Arnaut and Spotti2015). In sociolinguistics, thinking in terms of superdiversity, or diversification of diversity (Vertovec Reference Vertovec2007; Arnaut and Spotti Reference Arnaut and Spotti2014), has led researchers to conceptual shifts away from languages as discrete systems of which people are either native speakers or second-language speakers and learners, and towards languaging and translanguaging, resources and repertoires, hybrid linguistic practices, transculturations, transnational and translocal speech communities, and other related frameworks that emphasize complexity, hybridity, intersectionality, agency, and the mobility of people and ideas.

The concept of superdiversity was suggested by Steven Vertovec (Reference Vertovec2007) as a way of analyzing new trends in migration in Britain starting in the early 1990s. According to Vertovec, whereas previously most migration consisted of waves of ethnic groups mostly from countries with historical ties to the UK, the “new migration” has been characterized by a great diversification of countries of origin, as well as of other aspects of the migrants’ identities: immigration status and related rights, educational and occupational background, gender and age profiles, language, religion, motivations for migration, and geographical distribution of settlement, among others. In Vertovec’s definition, “[t]he interplay of these factors is what is meant here, in summary fashion, by the notion of ‘super-diversity’” (Vertovec Reference Vertovec2007: 1025). As interpreted by sociolinguists, ideas related to Arnaut and Spotti’s “superdiversity discourse” are applicable across the world’s societies, and include “real” as well as virtual connections and communities (Rampton et al. Reference Rampton, Blommaert, Arnaut and Spotti2015; Arnaut and Spotti Reference Arnaut and Spotti2014). Some, such as Makoni (Reference Makoni2012) and Bolonyai (personal communication), have criticized the superdiversity approach for exaggerating the novelty of modern-day diversity, pointing out for example that “[m]ass movement of populations is not new to Africa, so if diversity is accentuated by migration, then prior to colonialism there was considerable migration; however, it is framed as nomadism!” (Makoni Reference Makoni2012: 193). And, as the main architects of the superdiversity framework themselves observe, the focus on the interaction between language and other sociocultural forms, on the complexity and situatedness of identities, and on the overall necessity to integrate linguistics with ethnography, has for some time already been central to linguistic anthropology as practiced in North America (Rampton et al. Reference Rampton, Blommaert, Arnaut and Spotti2015: 6).

Nonetheless, the conceptual move away from traditional categorizations and dichotomies, and towards intersectionality and hybridity, is in part a response to the growing interconnectedness of communities and movements of people both in the emerging superdiversity approach (e.g. Blommaert and Backus Reference Blommaert and Backus2012; Rampton et al. Reference Rampton, Blommaert, Arnaut and Spotti2015; Blommaert Reference Blommaert2010, and others), and in recent work in linguistic anthropology and related fields (e.g. Reyes and Lo Reference Reyes and Lo2009; Farr Reference Farr2006; Sirin and Fine Reference Sirin and Fine2008; García and Kleifgen Reference García and Kleifgen2010; García and Li Reference García and Li2014). Thus, for example, as we have seen in this book, young Muslim Americans are described as negotiating multidimensional and hybrid identities “at the hyphen” (Sirin and Fine Reference Sirin and Fine2008), while Mexican migrants in Chicago maintain a closely connected transnational community between Michoácan and their Chicago neighborhood (Farr Reference Farr2006), reminding us of Vertovec’s observation that “[t]he degrees to and ways in which today’s migrants maintain identities, activities and connections linking them with communities outside Britain is unprecedented” (Vertovec Reference Vertovec2007: 1043). And, as discussed in the final chapter of this book, ethnicity and national heritage also powerfully intersect with gender and sexuality in the lives of many immigrants, and together they are mediated through language and its emotional significance as shaped by individual experience.

At the same time, however, as pointed out by Makoni (Reference Makoni2012) in his critique of superdiversity and related approaches, a celebratory focus on diversity and complexity can lead us to lose sight of the bigger picture and the social inequalities that it reveals. Makoni writes:

Along somewhat similar lines, Rampton (Reference Rampton2013) urges researchers to pay simultaneous attention to linguistic form, situated discourse, and ideology, warning that when they ignore any of these, “potentially crucial aspects of their informants’ social, political, rhetorical or linguistic positioning are obscured, and this lets in the romantic celebration of difference and creative agency that has been so common in sociolinguistics” (Rampton Reference Rampton2013: 3, cited also in Arnaut and Spotti Reference Arnaut and Spotti2014: 7).

Such fascination with diversity and diversification at the expense of exposing social inequality is likewise evident in the conflicting discourses surrounding English and other languages in the US today. Despite the ongoing perpetuation of fears that languages other than English pose a threat to the American way of life, as demonstrated in anti-immigrant political rhetoric, Official English laws, or the dismantling of bilingual education, in some domains multilingualism is being celebrated without being problematized. Thus, for example, Spanish features routinely in children’s programming, in extremely commercially successful shows such as Nickelodeon’s Dora the Explorer and Go Diego, Go!, as well as in Sprout Channel’s Good Night Show, which explicitly incorporate learning Spanish into the structure of each episode.Footnote ¹ A similar approach is adopted in Nickelodeon’s Ni hao, Kai Lan, with Mandarin as the target language. In other children’s shows, Spanish appears along with bilingual characters who are also portrayed as Latino immigrants, for example in The Dragon Tales produced by PBS and running from 1999 to 2005. Crucially, however, these shows portray Spanish and Chinese speakers as completely unaffected by their bilingualism that marks them as non-white and/or immigrant, while learning a language other than English is promoted as important for talking to different kinds of people who may be “visiting” the United States (e.g. in Sprout’s Good Night Show).

Thus, for example, the young siblings Emmy and Max, protagonists of The Dragon Tales, are presented as having an unspecified Latino background, which becomes further decontextualized as they venture into the magical Dragonland where the story is set. In this mythical land, the children befriend a group of young dragons whose own diversity – different-colored scales, dragons with one versus two heads, and so on – is rendered apolitical because it does not correspond to categories relevant in human societies. Meanwhile, the young dragons’ schoolteacher, whose name, Quetzal, suggests Indigenous Mexican roots, is a second-language English speaker whose first language is Spanish. Quetzal is older and wise, and immensely respected by dragon and human children alike. He speaks with a slight Spanish accent, and often uses simple Spanish phrases when addressing the children, such as for example muy bien, niños!, which the children appear to understand. Quetzal’s social and political status in the Dragonland society, however, remains unclear: Is he an immigrant? If so, from where? Why does he appear to be the only Spanish speaker? The only time migration is engaged with in the show is when Emmy and Max’s cousin Enrique arrives from Colombia and finds himself feeling lonely in the culturally unfamiliar world of, presumably, the United States, as well as Dragonland. Enrique speaks Spanish and accented English, and finds support in Quetzal with whom he shares his first language. But we never find out if Enrique migrated alone or with his parents, if he is only visiting or staying permanently, or what may have motivated his move. And in a perhaps accidentally ironic twist, when the children try to make Enrique feel less homesick on his birthday, they organize a celebration that involves a piñata – even though the piñata is a specifically Mexican tradition unknown in Colombia. Thus, in seeking to normalize ethnic and linguistic diversity, the show also homogenizes Spanish speakers as representatives of a conglomerate, unitary “Hispanic” culture.

I do not wish to detract from children’s programming that incorporates Spanish, Chinese, or other languages as suitable alternatives to English, and that presents non-English speakers as unmarked and in all ways equal to English speakers. To be sure, such shows help to normalize multilingualism, non-native accents, and speakers of non-English languages as well as these languages’ presence in the United States. The popularity of these shows suggests that early exposure to other languages, bilingualism, and even specific languages such as Spanish, are becoming relevant and valued in the perception of mainstream American public. But it has to be remembered that social inequalities, such as unequal access to resources or racial and linguistic profiling, do not simply disappear once enough harmonious and apolitical diversity is depicted in the media. Moreover, not every celebrant of such diversity is truly interested in tackling inequality; after all, it is one thing to encourage children to learn languages that can one day benefit them, but quite another to allow these languages to challenge the privileged place of English. Thus, the same American children whose parents buy them bilingual Dora the Explorer storybooks may be going to kindergarten with immigrant classmates who, thanks to underfunded bilingual education, have little hope of an equal start in school, and end up being not enriched but limited by their experience with Spanish.

It is not a new observation that it is those at the top of the sociopolitical power structure, whose identities are made normative and unmarked, that benefit the most from sampling surrounding diversity. Mathews (Reference Mathews2000) describes what he calls the present-day “cultural supermarket,” in which “shoppers” can pick and choose from diverse cultural markers to construct their identities. These might include home decor, elements of religious practice (e.g. Buddhist mandala on the wall, or regular yoga practice), or “ethnic” foods. But Mathews points out that it is the educated and affluent who are best positioned to take full advantage of the cultural supermarket, because they have greater access to the available resources, and greater socioeconomic means for appropriating them (Mathews Reference Mathews2000: 21). His analysis highlights how, following decades of pressure to assimilate exerted on immigrants, ethnic markers have been commodified and appropriated by mainstream white Americans as indexes of qualities such as sophistication, cosmopolitan outlook and urban lifestyle. Along similar lines, Halter (Reference Halter2000) observes, “Ethnicity has typically been associated with the lifestyle of the lower classes. However, increasingly, explicit ethnic identification has become an indicator of economic success and integration” (Halter Reference Halter2000: 10). Second- and third-generation immigrants demonstrate their accomplishment of the American Dream by emphasizing and displaying their ethnic heritage. Halter describes this as “part-time ethnicity” (Halter Reference Halter2000: 116) or “occasional” ethnicity (Halter Reference Halter2000: 119), focusing in particular on the marketing and consumption of “ethnic” foods.

Another example of social inequality in access to “fashionable ethnicity,” as we might call it, is found among the “new Italians” in the Southeast, described by Fellin (Reference Fellin2015), who, despite being first-generation immigrants, reject historically established Italian American identity and do not aspire to assimilation. Unlike their turn-of-the-twentieth-century predecessors, the Italians in Fellin’s study are highly educated, work in their professional fields in America, come from various regions of Italy rather than only the South, speak English, and speak Standard Italian rather than the regional vernaculars associated with their hometowns. They place high value on maintaining the Italian language and Italian cultural practices in their families, and explicitly distance themselves from Italian American cultural markers, such as Italian American food, which, despite being associated with Italians in the United States, does not always resemble present-day cuisine found in Italy. They also identify with Italy’s artistic and cultural heritage through discourses and practices that are often exclusive to those of higher socioeconomic status. Fellin (Reference Fellin2015) stresses that the “new Italians” reject both assimilation and hyphenation, describing their US-raised children as Italian and American, rather than Italian-American. Crucially, these new immigrants arrive in the US in a privileged position that affords them the freedom not only to actively enact their non-American ethnic identity, but also to choose and claim the high-prestige aspects of their ethnic background. Italy has by now become a prestigious foreign holiday destination for upper-middle-class Americans, and Italians have been accepted as European and as white. Consequently, highly educated, affluent Italians face few of the pressures encountered by newly arrived migrants from Mexico or refugees from Southeast Asia, the Middle East, or Africa.

The approaches adopted in this book – complex and socially constructed identities, fluidity, hybridity, languaging and translanguaging, continua, and webs in place of binaries – are shared with the superdiversity perspective, or, as Arnaut and Spotti (Reference Arnaut and Spotti2014) frame it, are part of superdiversity discourse. As such, they are open to the same critique of presenting a version of social reality that optimistically celebrates diversity while overlooking larger power structures. In this book, I have attempted to maintain a balance between recognizing and examining the diversity, complexity, and creative agency that characterize immigrant America, with a critical assessment of the dominant narrative that produces the normative definitions of terms such as “American,” “citizen,” and “immigrant.” This narrative – of immigration, assimilation, the American Dream, the melting pot, the nation of immigrants – although changing over time, has always worked to naturalize inequality through ideologies of race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, nationhood, and language. Indeed, the story of language in immigrant America is not a history lesson, but rather a continuous, conflicted and dynamic process that is and will be relevant in the lives of not just immigrants, but of all Americans, for many decades to come. During the 2016 general election campaigns, anti-immigrant rhetoric, aimed primarily at Latinos and Muslims, became particularly aggressive and rather openly racist to the extent not seen in mainstream national politics in a long while. Anti-immigrant legislation, from Arizona’s Senate Bill 1070 passed in 2010 that effectively encourages racial profiling to the elimination of bilingual education in several states, the continued portrayal of undocumented immigrants as criminal and alien, and finally President Trump’s controversial order, issued a week after his inauguration, banning migration and travel from several predominantly Muslim countries, demonstrates the persisting fear on part of many Americans of having groups “not like us” contribute to the definition of Americanness. At the same time, ethnic, cultural, and linguistic diversity defines the social reality that many Americans inhabit. Hybrid and hyphenated identities are continuously being produced and reinvented. Immigrant America’s creative agency has to be described and celebrated, not in the least in the hope of providing a challenge and an alternative to the dominant narrative of “the nation of (assimilated) immigrants.” With time, perhaps, this alternative story will have an impact on mainstream attitudes, on dominant media discourse, and on policymaking.