National Geographic

He lived with his grandparents in a home builton land where his grandfather, a Vietnam Warveteran, once picked beets and onions.When Fernandez was 19, he was elected to thecity council. On his first day in oice, in 2015,he stepped up to the short dais in Wilder CityHall and sat alongside the four other councilmembers. A local reporter noticed somethingno one else had: There were five Spanish sur-names on the council members’ nameplates.Almazan. Rivera. Godina. Garcia. Fernandez.The story soon went national. For the first timeever in Idaho— a state where non-Hispanicwhites make up 82 percent of the population—voters had elected an all-Latino city council.Born in 1996 to farmworkers with roots inMexico, Fernandez grew up hearing peopledescribe him as Latino. The term spread in thelast decades of the 20th century as a means ofgrouping together ethnically diverse peoplesof Hispanic heritage: immigrants from Cubaand Guatemala, U.S.-born citizens with roots inPuerto Rico and Peru, and many others.“Wilder is a small town, and it’s a sleepyIsmaelFernandez grewup in Wilder,Idaho, a townof 1,700 soulssurrounded bytall hop plantsand stubbyalfalfa ields.Elvis Navarrete, wear-ing a hat that his fatherbrought from Nayaritstate, Mexico, looksfor weeds as he walksthrough an onion field.The children of thosewho arrived in Wilderas migrant farm workersnow work the samefields—but to them it’sjust a summer job.Diversity in AmericaA YEARLONG SERIES90 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC