For generations, the American Dream has represented something profoundly simple: that anyone—no matter their birthplace—can build a better life in this country through hard work and determination. For millions of immigrants, especially within the Hispanic community, that dream wasn’t just an aspiration—it was a mission. They came to the United States not to take, but to give. To raise families, to contribute to their communities, and to strengthen the economy with nothing more than grit and the promise of opportunity.

Nowhere is this spirit more visible than in the construction industry. As of 2023, immigrants made up 25.5% of the overall U.S. construction workforce, with trades like plastering, stucco masonry, and drywall installation relying on immigrant labor at rates as high as 61% (Eye on Housing). These are the workers laying foundations, raising roofs, and rebuilding cities—often after wildfires, hurricanes, and floods have done their worst. At a time when the industry is facing a massive labor shortage, immigrants are not just filling the gap—they are holding it all together.

Walk onto any job site, from a small home remodel to a major commercial development, and you’ll see immigrant workers digging trenches, framing walls, and hauling materials. They are feeding their families—and in doing so, building the physical and economic infrastructure of this country.

But today, that workforce—and by extension, the industry—is under siege.

It’s not just undocumented workers who feel the pressure. Entire construction crews are shrinking, down by as much as 40% in some cities and trades. Roofing, stucco, drywall, and concrete work are especially hard hit. Even legal residents and U.S.-born workers are feeling the impact. Fewer hands on deck mean longer hours, higher stress, and tighter timelines for everyone. And let’s be honest, immigrants are far more likely to take on the physically demanding, entry-level roles that others won’t. Without them, projects slow down or stall altogether.

The ripple effects are real. Fewer workers drive up labor costs, which ultimately drive-up consumer prices. Homeowners will pay more. Developers will delay projects. Municipalities will see more permit extension requests and longer public works timelines. Equipment sits idle longer. Materials get repriced. Everything from housing affordability to infrastructure improvements takes a hit.

And yet, the enforcement practices fueling this disruption continue with alarming aggression, often crossing moral lines. Traffic stops based on appearance. Warrantless detentions. Workplace raids that feel more like military operations than regulatory enforcement. This isn’t just inefficient policy, it’s a moral failure.

If we can’t distinguish between legitimate enforcement and targeted hostility, we’re not just risking economic slowdown, we’re risking something deeper: our values.

So where does that leave the construction industry? And where does it leave the American Dream?

If we are to live up to the ideals that define this country, we must demand more, more accountability, more transparency, and more humanity. The American Dream was never meant to be exclusive. But we cannot build our future by tearing down those who are building it with us.

Change is inevitable. But compassion and integrity must remain non-negotiable