Paulino Cardozo from the state of Guerrero works for a greengrocer, loading trucks. He sends $300 a week. Luis Hernandez from the state of Veracruz works in demolition in New York. He sends $200 a week. Bernabe Mendez from the state of Guerrero works as a professional window cleaner in New York. He sends $500 a month. Sergio García from Mexico works as a waiter in New York. He sends $350 a week. Adalberto Lara from Mexico works as a construction worker in New York. He sends $350 a week. Federico Martinez from the state of Puebla works as a taxi driver in New York. He sends $250 a week. Minerva Valencia from Puebla works as a nanny in New York. She sends $400 a week. Maria Luisa Romero from Puebla works in a laundromat in Brooklyn, New York. She sends $150 a week. Noe Reyes from Puebla works as a delivery person in Brooklyn, New York. He sends $500 a week. Román Romero from Tlapa, Guerrero, works as a superintendent in New York. He sends $800 a month. Photo: Dulce Pinzon, new work. Photo: Dulce Pinzon, new work. Photo: Dulce Pinzon, new work.

Mexican photographer and a former New York resident Dulce Pinzon casts the Mexican migrant workers of New York City as superheroes -– in costume, at their jobs and within our midst.

Superheroes (2004–ongoing) intends to broaden our collective definition of the term hero, a label often used in American culture, but not always applied to the heroic everyday acts of work and family commitments.

"It is common for a Mexican worker in New York to work extraordinary hours in extreme conditions," says Pinzon in the project statement. They work "for very low wages which are saved at great cost and sacrifice and sent to families and communities in Mexico who rely on them to survive."

Each portrait is captioned with the worker’s name, hometown in Mexico and the amount of money they send to Mexico each week.

Since the project began, Pinzon has since moved back to Mexico, but it has not stopped her growing portfolio. (Raw File is proud to publish three new Superheroes portraits, in images 11, 12 and 13.)

After September 11, Pinzon meditated on the definition of hero: "The notion [of American hero] served as a necessity in a time of national and global crisis to acknowledge those who showed extraordinary courage in the face of danger, sometimes even sacrificing their lives in an attempt to save others."

While the media focused on the visible and deserved adulation for 9/11 first responders, Pinzon argues it is easy to overlook the daily life and labor sacrifices made by others in "somewhat less spectacular settings."

So, who are these subjects of unspectacular work environments? "Previous students of mine, workers I helped unionize through my years as union organizer, workers in my neighborhood," says Pinzon in an e-mail.

Pinzon's photographs depict documented economic migrants, a group that is sometimes talked about and confused (willingly or innocently) with undocumented migrants. She is reluctant to discuss the politics of labor migration, partly because she does not live in the United States any longer but also, one suspects, because her photographs are her message.

Arizona's controversial new anti-immigration law has been challenged, and temporarily blocked, because of its threat to civil liberties and its potential discrimination toward racial minorities. This winter, another chapter in migrant labor will be written as the annual shift of seasonal agricultural jobs moves from California to Arizona. Whether undocumented workers will risk the legal climate in Arizona remains to be seen.

Pinzon's former home state, New York, is one of many states informally debating the introduction of similar legislation, with residents of New York City strongly opposed, while rural upstate dwellers are generally in favor.

Pinzon is not dogmatic however. Rather, she is relative. When asked what she thinks of the Arizona law, Pinzon responds, "It's ridiculous, but every country has laws equally as discriminative as the SB 1070."