03/03/2026
A Message from Our CEO: The Ibero-American Action League's Standing on a National Debate
As I sat inside the chamber of the United States House of Representatives for the State of the Union address. I thought I was prepared for what it would mean to be there. I wasn’t.
Before the address began, I had the privilege of touring around alongside Congressman Joe Morelle. Watching him move through that space, with conviction, hope, and an unwavering belief in what America can be, stirred something in me. His optimism did not dismiss the challenges ahead. It acknowledged them. And still, it persisted. For a moment, I felt that hope too. I felt proud. But nothing quite prepared me for the energy inside the chamber.
The applause was deafening. The pride carried by the majority felt overwhelming. Members rose with certainty, clapping with force and conviction.
At times, it felt as though a celebration was unfolding in a reality different from the one many families in our communities are experiencing. A young woman seated beside me quietly wiped away tears as the President spoke. It was surreal.
On one side of me sat the wife of a Democratic member of Congress; on the other, the wife of a Republican congressman. The symbolism was not lost on me. What I saw most clearly in that room was collective confidence, an unshakable belief in a particular vision of America. Witnessing that up close, if I am honest, it was unsettling. As affordability was praised, I found myself asking: affordability for whom?
When chants overtook the chamber after a call to protect “American citizens,” I had to remind myself that I am American too. In that moment, I felt foreign in a space that belongs to me just as much as it belongs to anyone applauding. It belongs to the families we serve at the Ibero-American Action League. It belongs to immigrants. It belongs to working parents, to children navigating two languages, to those still waiting to feel the progress being celebrated. They belong there too.
In that moment, I lowered my head, not in shame, not in protest, but in reflection. While the room celebrated advancement, I could not stop thinking about those who are still struggling to afford rent, to access healthcare, to feel safe, to feel seen. The distance between what was said and lived reality felt wide. And yet, the experience was layered.
I still have hope in our democratic process. But I felt a deep ache for the gap between what is promised and what so many in our communities experience daily. What I left with is this: patriotism cannot be surrendered.
It cannot belong to just one version of America that doesn’t include people like my staff, and those we serve. If anything, being in that chamber strengthened my belief that we must reclaim our patriotism—loudly, unapologetically, and inclusively.
Patriotism must mean fighting for the people who are not laughing, not applauding, not feeling the relief being celebrated. It must include what we have always been, the nation of immigrants. It must include the working poor. It must include the families who still feel unseen in moments of national triumph. We cannot cede that ground.
As leaders, advocates, and community members, our responsibility is not just to witness history—but to shape it. To ensure that when America celebrates progress, it is progress that reaches everyone.
Because I am American too. And so are the communities we serve.
En solidaridad con nuestra comunidad,
- Angélica Pérez-Delgado
