Connecting with Immigrant Neighbors, One Hot Dog at a Time

A small pile of chinese dumplings. A slab of mac and cheese. A pork rib and slices of prickly pear cactus, all doused in mole de chipotle. This is what potluck plates look like in Corona, Queens, which is one of the most ethnically diverse neighborhoods in the United States.

But this was not just any potluck. The gathering’s organizer, Nuala O’Doherty-Naranjo, had an ulterior motive: she wanted to create a space where U.S. citizens and recently arrived migrants could meet, break bread, and start building trust.  

For O’Doherty-Naranjo and her collaborator, Jim Burke, who co-founded the 34th Avenue Open Streets Coalition with her, the potluck is the latest in their community-building initiatives. They have organized many initiatives for immigrants in their neighborhood. They have planned group outings for people to learn how to ride a bike. They have put together gardening activities. They have even paired people who want to learn Spanish with folks who want to learn English. 

“Too often we’re in our silos,” Burke said. “Today we wanted people to sit with people they don’t know,” he added.

Last weekend, their vision of togetherness came to fruition on a blocked-off section of 34th Avenue and 93rd Street. More than 100 people gathered on the balmy spring afternoon to eat together, many of them seated at a makeshift table that stretched across parts of the blocked-off street. Maria, a Mexican immigrant who has lived in the U.S. for several decades and brought her three children in tow, sat next to Leslie Ramos, who runs a local nonprofit that helps develop the local business improvement district (BID) near 82nd street in Queens. A few seats down, Maria Jose, an asylum seeker who came to the U.S. roughly five years ago, joked with event co-host Burke, who has lived in the neighborhood for more than a decadedecades. 

A former prosecutor with the Manhattan district attorney’s office, O’Doherty-Naranjo has been using her time and legal credentials to run a legal clinic out of her basement, where she has helped thousands of migrants navigate the immigration system since January of 2023. Through her work, and through the many conversations she’s had with clients, one thing became glaringly apparent: none of them had any friends or acquaintances who are U.S. citizens.

On the surface, this may seem like a small thing — but the real life implications of this social disconnect have been significant. Many people who O’Doherty-Naranjo has helped said they felt isolated. They struggled to learn English, and some said they didn’t know who to contact if ever they received a letter they did not understand about their immigration paperwork. 

These feelings of social isolation and psychological distress are in line with studies that have shown that immigrants in the U.S. frequently experience high rates of depression and anxiety driven by stressors such as the trauma from their journey, acculturation, discrimination, and fear of deportation. Furthermore, especially for newly-arrived immigrants, these issues can be compounded by anti-immigrant rhetoric and policies, which have increased under the Trump administration.

Beyond trying to alleviate some of these stressors through community-building, O’Doherty-Naranjo said the event series seeks to address a wider division that several experts spoke to Documented about. Essentially as many newly arrived immigrants struggle in isolation, long-term residents who may know little about their new neighbors can start to “other” them — treat them as outsiders – or, in some worst-case scenarios, develop a sense of animosity towards them. 

 In Corona and other immigrant-heavy neighborhoods around the commercial strip of Roosevelt Avenue in Queens, this animosity has manifested in protests aimed at shutting down local migrant shelters and an NYPD-led crackdown on immigrant street vendors. 

Saturday kicked off the first of what she envisions to be a summerlong experiment in social engineering to bridge the gap between long-term residents and newly arrived migrants. On the last Saturday of each month, O’Doherty-Naranjo plans to host a gathering of people from across her networks in the hope that, at some point over the course of several gatherings, they strike up a conversation, exchange numbers and maybe even become friends. 

“You can’t force people on one another,” she said. “But this is how you build trust, little by little.” 

“Eventually connections are made,” she added. 

Roberta Tapia, 48, believes that community is vital for handling the trials and tribulations of life as an immigrant — especially in this moment. She’s known among her friends and neighbors for her excellent cooking, something she attributes to cooking “from the heart.” For this potluck, she made the very popular rib stew with prickly pear cactus.

In her spare time, Tapia is also the captain of a community basketball team that practices at the school adjacent to the street where the potluck was set up. Through the team — and more specifically through hosting tournaments in which each team pays $200 to participate —she helps raise money for an organization that is dedicated to searching for lost migrants at border crossings. It’s something she got involved with after her nephew died trying to come to the U.S. 

Community is important for mental health, she said. “We’re always together”

Thomas Muccioli, 38, is a community mobilization coordinator in U.S. Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s office and is also a volunteer with many rapid response groups. He did his part to contribute to the community potluck event by bringing food sponsored by the representative’s office — he also invited members of several local ICE Watch groups to the event. 

“A lot of us are doing regular patrols and rapid response actions. But rarely do we get the opportunity to do, like, something that’s a little more meaningful,” he said. 

“I also really need to do something more restorative,” he added. 

Towards the end of the afternoon, community members took a moment to commemorate Luis R. Vasquez, a street vendor who had sold hot dogs in the community for 37 years. In his honor, his friends had organized a hot dog cart where neighbors could grab a free hot dog and share memories. 

Several people spoke up and lauded his spirit while others crouched together to light incense. They ended the commemoration with children eagerly lining up to strike a pinata as several parents sang a song in unison. 

“This is what I wanted. All my neighbors together,” said O’Doherty-Naranjo.