“We can have food, Latin food, festivals, music—and also reflection, conversation, and maybe uncomfortable conversation.” With that invitation, Elmer Romero began his Dean’s Hour talk during Christ Church Cathedral’s observance of Mes de la Herencia Latina/Hispana.
Romero is an Episcopal lay leader, educator, journalist, and community organizer. He spoke about more than two decades of work with migrants in the United States, a ministry rooted in his own experience. “I consider myself a migrant,” he said. “I think I will be a migrant until I die.”
Romero grew up in El Salvador during years of political repression and civil war. As a young catechist, he found in the Church a reason to stay and serve, even as his mother urged him to leave for safety. Showing a photograph from that period, he told the room that the two fellow catechists pictured alongside him had died. He was the only survivor in the image.
His faith later led him into an ecumenical community and, eventually, the Episcopal Church. He spoke of priests and a bishop who offered friendship and spiritual guidance, and of St. Óscar Romero, whose witness continues to shape his life.
That history informs how Romero sees the people he serves today. “Every person has a story, a life history, and an immigration history,” he told the Cathedral. A person’s journey may include leaving home, passing through another country, building a life in a new place, or returning. In Houston, he said, pastoral care must attend to people through those changes.
Romero has worked with day laborers seeking jobs on street corners, young people who grew up in the United States, refugees learning English, and families facing uncertainty about their futures. He recalled teaching English outdoors where workers gathered and helping establish day labor sites. Now, through an effort called “Adopt a Corner,” he encourages small groups to visit day laborers regularly, build relationships, and prepare to respond when help is needed.
He also helped found Houston’s Immigration with Dignity Coalition, which brings together clergy and people of faith from several traditions. Its members gather for prayer and vigils, listen to migrants’ stories, and speak publicly for the dignity of their neighbors. For Romero, such work belongs to his calling as an Episcopal layperson: faith expressed in the daily life of the city.
Romero did not offer an easy answer to the uncertainty many families face. He spoke honestly about their fear and about the need to support people whatever direction their journeys take. His invitation to the Cathedral was to keep celebrating Latino heritage—and to let that celebration include listening, relationship, and the difficult conversations that help us see our neighbors more fully.