Teatro Jornalero closes its curtains amid U.S. immigration crackdown

by Vanessa Arredondo April 18, 2025, 7:00 a.m.

We attended the community theater troupe’s last scheduled show, where members perform monologues of their immigration journeys. Unlike previous performances, it was closed to the general public.

When Francisco decided to leave for the U.S. at 19, his mother worried that he wouldn’t be able to ask for food because he did not speak Spanish. Francisco, born in Guatemala with indigenous ancestry, left home after his country’s military began targeting Mayans and others in the mid-1980s during what is now known as the Guatemalan Genocide. 

Adriana, a first-generation American, was born to parents who migrated to the United States from Mexico in the 1950s via the Bracero Program, an agreement between the U.S. and Mexico that brought young Mexicans to work seasonal agricultural jobs due to American labor shortages. She said she likes tacos and hamburgers equally.

Alex thought he would become a millionaire once he reached the U.S. It took him several tries to escape the poverty and destitution of his home country, Honduras, but he was finally allowed to enter the U.S. after boarding a flight dressed like a middle-class man in a suit. 

These were some of the personal stories troupe members shared Saturday afternoon to a private audience at Berkeley’s La Peña Cultural Center as part of Teatro Jornalero’s performance piece, “Undocumented Heart.” In all, three men and three women shared their experiences immigrating to the U.S., including their reasons for leaving their home country and the harrowing journeys they undertook northward. (Francisco, who recently suffered a stroke, had his story performed on Saturday by Oswaldo, who is also from Guatemala and speaks his native Mam language.) The performers are referred to by first names only in this article to protect their privacy.

“I wanted to be heard,” one troupe member, Yolanda, said. “I needed to let out this pain I carry. When I share my story, I cry and heal a little.”

Formed in late 2018 out of Peralta Hacienda Historical Park in the Fruitvale neighborhood of Oakland, the community theater project began as an art exhibition, featuring heart-wrenching migration stories told by 13 Oakland day laborers using textiles, paintings and oral storytelling. 

For nearly 7 years, immigrants have shuffled in and out of this community theater group, acting out their personal experiences in playhouses and venues across the East Bay, shedding light on the unseen trials of immigration and challenging common misconceptions surrounding their communities. 

Members of Teatro Jornalero were born in Mexico, Central America and the United States, and have various immigration statuses: Some are permanent residents, others are citizens, and some have obtained asylum. 

“It takes a lot of courage to do this show,” Holly Alonso, Peralta Hacienda’s executive director, told the audience on Saturday. “Many of the performers have been here for 20 or 30 years, unable to see their families, to join their parents on their deathbeds, or to know their grandchildren. It’s a very, very difficult life.”

Taking the stage has required an even greater resolve, said Alonso, ever since President Donald Trump took office and began escalating federal attacks on immigrant groups. Alonso said the group decided a few months ago to stop advertising and performing due to fears of being targeted by the Trump administration. Last Saturday’s show at La Peña was an invite-only affair, attended by friends, family members and trusted people in the community.

Teatro Jornalero’s players have always had privacy concerns related to their art performances, but in the past “were adamant that they wouldn’t be intimidated and they wanted to perform.” 

Things are different now. “There’s no way — even if they wanted to (perform) — I wouldn’t do it because it’s just too dangerous now,” Alonso told Berkeleyside. Teatro Jornalero currently has no future events planned. 

On Saturday, before an audience of about 60 people, six members of the troupe shared their experiences. Each story reflected a significant historical or economic moment in the performer’s home country that left them no choice but to migrate. 

The private show was scaled back compared to previous productions. Typical performances featured large projections depicting beautiful scenery and sounds from the performers’ homelands, Alonso said. But the lack of technology did not diminish the storytelling. 

Troupe member Esmeralda followed her husband to the U.S. after he left Mexico to work and send money back home for their son to pursue a career in graphic design, which he did, she said proudly.  They are now grandparents, but neither has been able to meet their grandkids in person. 

Yolanda was born in Guerrero, Mexico. When she was 14, she was kidnapped and raped by members of a drug cartel. She had to leave her children in the care of family members when she was brought to the U.S. against her will. She eventually escaped her captors but can never return home, she said.

“Despite the beauty of Guerrero, it is a place of terror,” Yolanda said. “Drug cartels dominated our lives and we didn’t have any protection from the government.”

Antonio was born in southern Guerrero, Mexico, a region with a large population of Afro-Mexicans like himself. He said when television arrived in his family’s hometown, he realized they were poor. He left and attended college in the U.S. Now he shares his story on stage and has helped translate others’ stories into English. 

“When you cross the border, it’s like watching yourself running like an animal trying to survive,” Antonio said.

Audience members were misty-eyed by the end of the show. Family members and friends presented the actors with flowers and took photos. Organizers said they had collected enough donations that day to give each member of Teatro Jornalero $100 for their performances.

“I thought I would go to school, travel and then move to California,” a performer said. “Living undocumented in the United States was never my dream.”

Alonso expressed disappointment about ending the performances, especially as anti-immigrant sentiment rises across the country. 

“It’s a crying shame that when we most need understanding, we can’t do it anymore due to fear of retaliation from the administration,” she said.