What does coastal access look like for immigrant fishermen? URI professor aims to find out

At any fishing spot along Rhode Island's coast, you're likely to encounter a remarkably diverse array of people – including immigrants from countries like Cambodia, Laos, the Dominican Republic and Guatemala.

But their perspectives are often missing from discussions about coastal access, according to Melva Treviño Peña, an assistant professor at the University of Rhode Island's College of the Environment and Life Sciences.

Treviño has extensively studied the importance of fishing in Rhode Island's immigrant communities. Now, with funding from Rhode Island Sea Grant, she's researching the barriers that stand in the way.

"I feel like a lot of the conversation of coastal access revolves around recreation, and the value that it brings to people, which I recognize is very real," she told The Providence Journal. "But there's a lot of people who access the coast because they want to eat the fish they catch. It's a food access issue."

Why fishing matters to immigrant communities

The first Southeast Asian immigrants who came to Rhode Island sometimes relied on fishing as a way to feed their families, Treviño has learned through her research. It was the same thing they'd done back home in Cambodia and Laos when there wasn't enough food to go around.

But for immigrant communities today, fishing isn't usually a matter of subsistence, she said. In fact, when you factor in the time commitment plus the cost of bait, gear and gas, it's not necessarily all that cost-effective. One interview subject described it as "the most expensive free meal you can get."

Instead, fishing is often seen as a way to get fresher, higher-quality fish than what you'd find in the supermarket.

"There's such a sense of pride that comes from being able to say, 'I caught this for my family,'" Treviño said.

Species like bluefish, striped bass and tautog are popular, but Latino fishermen also like catching scup, which can be hard to find in stores because it's best eaten whole and isn't something that white people usually seek out.

Similarly, Asian immigrants often fish for squid, which is abundant in Rhode Island waters but usually only sold in frozen form.

In the Southeast Asian community, catching a big fish means inviting your friends and family over to your house to eat it. It becomes almost like a celebration, Treviño said. If the fish was purchased from a grocery store, family members might still come, "but that sense of pride is removed."

Beyond simply being a source of food, fishing offers a way to relax and spend time outdoors. It can be quite social – often, you'll see whole families having cookouts and children swimming while their parents fish.

Many immigrants to Rhode Island come from other coastal communities where fishing is a cultural tradition, Treviño pointed out. Even refugees from landlocked Afghanistan have told her about how they loved fishing in rivers back home.

Lack of knowledge can be a major barrier

Treviño and a URI master's degree student, Jami Miller, conducted interviews at five popular fishing spots in Jamestown and Narragansett during the summer of 2022.

Some immigrant fishermen mentioned facing obstacles such as a lack of parking, or people threatening to call the police on them, Treviño said. But they'd still managed to get to the coast – and she wanted to hear from the people who hadn't.

For that phase of her research, she partnered with the Refugee Dream Center and the Center for Southeast Asians to hold focus groups in Providence. One "shocking" discovery was that a number of people who'd been in Rhode Island for five or six years had only been to the coast once, she said. For many of them, that one visit was a trip organized by the Refugee Dream Center.

Transportation can be a challenge for newly arrived refugees from places like Afghanistan, Syria, the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Somalia, Treviño said.

So is simply knowing where to go: When she pointed interview subjects to shoreline-ri.com, a website that maps the locations of beaches and public rights of way through the state, their eyes lit up. But they hadn't been aware that a resource like that existed.

By contrast, Treviño said, Rhode Island's Southeast Asian community has been here for decades. Knowledge about fishing spots where you won't be hassled and can find amenities like bathrooms and parking has spread by word of mouth – often through unofficial community "scouts."

Immigrant fishermen can face harassment

Beach access advocates – who tend to be white – often have stories about being harassed while exercising their constitutional right to use Rhode Island's shoreline.

The same is true for immigrant fishermen. Treviño recalled the experience of one Cambodian fisherman who was in the water, wearing a pair of waders, when a woman started yelling at him and telling him that he was on private property.

"He explicitly said, 'People are racist sometimes, and they yell at us like that,'" she said.

It's unclear if these fishermen are aware of their rights under Rhode Island's Constitution, which were explicitly spelled out in the new shoreline access law that passed last year. That's not a question that researchers have asked, Treviño said.

But she suspects that many immigrants aren't going to want to "test the waters" – especially refugees who can't afford to get into any trouble because they have a pending asylum application and aren't citizens yet.

Immigrant fishermen have also described being made to feel unwelcome when people call the police to complain about loud music, or environmental police show up to check fishing licenses, Treviño said.

Additionally, the Department of Environmental Management now asks for a social security number when you apply for a fishing license. Treviño suspects that may serve as a barrier to undocumented immigrants, and also deter people from going fishing with their undocumented family members.

DEM spokesman Evan LaCross said that social security numbers are used as as a unique identifier in the new licensing system that the agency adopted in 2022. But, he said, undocumented immigrants and other non-citizens have the option of using their passport number to create an account instead.

They can also visit DEM headquarters and provide another form of identification, such as a driver's license.

More outreach needed about health effects of mercury

Immigrant fishermen tend to be hyperaware of the regulations surrounding fish size and catch limits, Treviño said, and many will carry measuring tapes or hand-carved wooden measuring tools.

"Everybody has a story of someone they know who got a fine, and they are not cheap fines," she said.

But there isn't the same level of awareness about the risks associated with eating fish that have high levels of mercury and other toxins, Treviño has found. The information is easily accessible on the Rhode Island Department of Health's website, she pointed out, but people don't necessarily know to go looking for it.

When she concludes her research, Treviño plans to produce a report for policymakers at Rhode Island Sea Grant and the Coastal Resources Management Council. There's clearly a need for more outreach to immigrant communities, but she suggests that there's also no need to reinvent the wheel: The key will be partnering with groups like the Refugee Dream Center and the Center for Southeast Asians.

"They actually belong to those communities and they work with them on a daily basis," she said. "They know how to navigate the cultural nuances. They're experts at that."

This article originally appeared on The Providence Journal: URI professor studies coastal access issues in immigrant communities