Reading, Pennsylvania — the majority‑Latino city that helped shape the outcome of the 2024 presidential election — is once again a bellwether for how Latino voters are responding to President Donald Trump’s first year back in office. Earlier this year, as part of The 50: Voices of a Nation series, The Fulcrum reported that Reading’s residents were motivated by economic anxiety, immigration concerns, and frustration with political rhetoric. Nine months later, those same issues remain at the forefront — but the mood has shifted.
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New reporting from national outlets shows that Reading continues to draw attention as a microcosm of Latino political realignment. The New Republic noted that Reading “holds the secret to Democrats’ Latino woes,” highlighting how many Latino voters moved toward Trump in 2024 due to economic disillusionment and conservative social values. Another report reinforced that trend, finding that “a growing number of Latinos are turning to Donald Trump” in Reading, driven by concerns about inflation, family priorities, and dissatisfaction with Democratic messaging.
Residents who spoke with The Fulcrum cited the high cost of living as a major factor in their vote. "I know the economy was very difficult under Joe Biden," said Ramon Martinez, co-owner of Mofongo Restaurant. That concern has only intensified. Local business owners say inflation remains a daily challenge, and many families feel squeezed despite national indicators showing modest economic stabilization.
Latino voters in Reading told NBC News that economic uncertainty continues to shape their political engagement, with many describing the current moment as “unexpected” and “unsettling” as they watch national policy shifts unfold.
Trump’s mass‑deportation agenda — a major theme in the 2024 campaign — has become a lived reality for many Reading families. In March, democratic state representative and restaurant owner Johanny Cepeda‑Freyitz told The Fulcrum that fear of deportation was driving customers away and destabilizing the community. That fear has not subsided.
Trump’s immigration crackdown has become a defining issue for Reading’s Latino residents, many of whom support stronger borders but oppose policies that separate families or create a climate of fear.
Reading sits at the heart of what analysts now call Pennsylvania’s “Latino Belt,” a growing corridor of Latino voters whose political preferences are increasingly unpredictable. RealClearPolling reported that this demographic shift is reshaping statewide politics, with more than 600,000 eligible Latino voters now influencing Pennsylvania’s electoral landscape.
While Harris won Reading decisively in 2024, Trump’s gains in Berks County and across the Latino Belt helped him secure the state — a trend that may continue into 2026 unless Democrats re‑engage these communities.
Reading’s political story is far from settled. The city remains a place where economic strain, immigration policy, and shifting cultural identities intersect — and where Latino voters are redefining what political power looks like in Pennsylvania.
As the Trump administration enters its second year and the 2026 midterms approach, Reading will once again be a critical indicator of how Latino voters nationwide are responding to the country’s political direction.
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Hugo Balta is the executive editor of the Fulcrum and the publisher of the Latino News Network.
Demonstrators rally outside the U.S. Supreme Court as justices hear oral arguments on whether President Donald Trump can deny citizenship to children born to parents who are in the United States illegally or temporarily, on Capitol Hill, in Washington, Wednesday, April 1, 2026. (AP Photo/Mariam Zuhaib)
Luz Angela Nuñez with her daughter Aisha Quershi Nuñez at their home in College Point, Queens. Photo: Mia Anzalone for Documented.
Kimberly Alvarez, 25, with her daughter Evangeline and her husband John Alvarez in Medellin, Colombia. Photo courtesy of Kimberly Alvarez.Alvarez arrived in New York City in February 2024 with her husband John Alvarez as asylum seekers from Venezuela. In April 2025, Alvarez found out she was pregnant with her first child, a baby girl. Her first reaction, she said, was fear.“How am I going to keep her alive?” she said. “That’s what I was thinking. ‘How am I going to be able to take care of her?’”At the beginning of Alvarez’s pregnancy, she said she was aware of the immigration enforcement occurring around the country, but vowed not to let it deter her from showing up to her doctor’s appointments.“When you went out, you were always on alert because you didn’t know if [ICE] might be around. I never saw anything suspicious,” Alvarez said. “But of course, you feel scared.”In October, when Alvarez was six months pregnant, her husband was detained by ICE agents at 26 Federal Plaza. When the immediate shock wore off, she obsessively checked the Online Detainee Locator System to find out where her husband went. A day later, she discovered that he was being kept at Delaney Hall detention center in New Jersey. Alvarez quickly set up an account to pay for phone calls, and every two days, she would pay about $10 for a one-hour call, updating her husband about the baby, her appointments and how she was doing.“Crying was the only way for me to release the tension,” said Alvarez, who worried that her lack of sleep and bad diet were impacting her baby. “Crying was the only way for me to release the tension.”—Kimberly AlvarezThat tension built up day by day, week by week following her husband’s arrest. Alvarez had stopped her work as a cleaner in the neighborhood’s synagogues two weeks before her husband’s detention because of her pregnancy. The plan, she said, was to rely solely on his income as a maintenance worker for “the food, the rent, everything.” Left with few choices, Kimberley had to rely on her mother’s income as a cleaner. The older woman had moved to New York from North Carolina to assist with Alvarez’s pregnancy. “I feel like I’m supposed to help my mom, not the other way around,” Alvarez said. “I felt powerless because I couldn’t do anything.”On Dec. 9, Alvarez gave birth to a daughter, Evangeline. While her baby was healthy, Alvarez’s anxieties did not go away. While she returned to cleaning synagogues a few months after Evangeline’s birth to help make ends meet, Alvarez and her daughter rarely left home. Alvarez said she felt paralyzed, getting frequent alerts from a neighborhood WhatsApp group when ICE was spotted nearby. One day, she said, ICE arrested her friend’s husband in Sunset Park, in an area where she would sometimes take Evangeline for walks.“I’m so afraid that I’ll go out and run into one of them and that they’ll take her away from me,” Alvarez said. “That’s my biggest fear, that someone will take her away from me and I won’t know where my daughter is.”In March, her husband decided to voluntarily remove himself from the United States and move back to Colombia, where he is originally from. It was a family decision, but it was not a happy one — hiring immigration lawyers was too expensive, Alvarez said, adding that staying in the U.S. felt too uncertain. 
Sharice Davids, who is also Kansas’ first LGBTQ+ member of Congress, is in her fourth term. (Michael Brochstein/SIPA/AP)
Deb Haaland was the first Native American secretary of the Interior, and if elected in New Mexico this year, she would become the country’s first Native American woman governor. (Drew Angerer/Getty Images)