In Grant County, Latinos are the majority, but the health care system is not designed for them. However, hope arises from the community itself.

Ulysses, Kansas | March 2, 2026

By Claudia Amaro | Planeta Venus

The group of women named Misión Latina from Ulysses, Kansas. Picture by Lucy Watie

This article is part of a series that aims to bridge resources, institutions, and the Latino community in Kansas. Thanks to this survey and your participation, we will be sharing local solutions that are already working. This spring, we will also publish a guide that compiles these resources in an accessible, easy-to-share format.

In Grant County, in southwest Kansas, the Latino community, now in the majority, is facing a health crisis because the medical system does not consider their linguistic, cultural, or work needs. But thanks to organizing and volunteerism, leaders like Lucy Watie and her group "Misión Latina" are changing this. They offer preventive education, direct support, and medical accompaniment to save lives and call for change in the region.

This article explores the profound health disparities affecting Latinos in Southwest Kansas, who, despite being the economic engine of multibillion-dollar industries such as agriculture and meat processing, suffer from high rates of chronic disease, lack of health insurance, and language barriers. Understanding this dynamic is vital because it makes visible how public policies exclude minorities in rural areas. Still, above all, it highlights why grassroots initiatives, such as health promoters, can be the key to solving this crisis.

A territory transformed by work, but lagging in services

To understand the challenge, you first have to look at the map and the data. Grant County is a rural area in southwestern Kansas, with Ulysses as its main city. It has about 7,100 inhabitants and has changed a lot with the arrival of industry. Since the 1990s, meatpacking plants and farms have hired many workers from Mexico and Central America.

Today, Latinos make up 53.7% of the county's population, and non-Hispanic whites make up 43.4%. Nearly one in four were born outside the United States, and 42.6% of those 5 and older speak another language at home, primarily Spanish. Latinos work in the meat plants and fields and maintain the local economy. However, the health infrastructure did not grow at the same rate as the population.

A system that turns its back

In Grant County, there are only 4.1 primary care physicians per 10,000 people, far less than the state average of 6.6. The mental health situation is even worse: there are between 55 and 69 providers per 100,000 inhabitants, while the national average exceeds 300. For those who only speak Spanish and need a bilingual doctor, there are almost no options.

Added to this is the problem of health insurance. Kansas has not expanded Medicaid, the program that covers low-income people. For this reason, thousands of adults, mostly Latinos, are left uninsured: they earn too much for traditional Medicaid, but not enough to access help in the insurance marketplace. Thus, between 17% and 18% of those under 65 in Grant County lack health insurance, nearly double the national average. Statewide, Latinos have the highest uninsurance rate, at 20.1%.

The problem is made worse by the type of work they do. The meatpacking industry is dangerous, with an injury rate of 4.3 per 100 workers, higher than the industry average of 3.1. Because of language barriers, few sick days, and fear of retaliation, many employees delay visiting the doctor. When they finally come, diseases such as diabetes, which largely affects Latinos in the area, are already advanced. Grant County has an adult obesity rate close to 41%, higher than the state average, due to costs, lack of time, and limited access to healthy options, due to intense physical labor.

In addition, there is the "paralyzing effect" of fear. Because of policies proposed in recent years on "public charge" (an immigration rule that assesses whether an immigrant is dependent on government benefits), many Latino families avoid enrolling in health care for fear it will affect their immigration status.

Empathy is born in agricultural fields

Lucy Watie. Picture provided by Lucy Watie

In the absence of institutional support, the community has created its own support networks. Lucy Watie, a Community Health worker, is known in the Latino community as a promotora de salud. Promotoras de Salud are people from the same community who are trained to serve as a bridge between residents and the medical and social systems. Currently, Watie works for Livewell Finney County, a public health coalition in Garden City, Kansas, that aims to improve residents' quality of life.

Watie's history is deeply rooted in Grant County. "I was born and raised in Ulysses, Kansas. In fact, the hospital I'm in right now is where I was born," she explains during an interview with Planeta Venus. The daughter of migrant farmworkers, Watie learned the value of hard work from a young age. The oldest of six siblings, she began acting as her father's interpreter at an early age.

"There were times when we would stop at a farm, and my dad would say, 'Lucy, I need you to go knock on the door.' I need you to ask that farmer if he has any fields we can work in," Watie recalls. At the age of eight, she faced the anxiety of having to talk to adults in a "professional" way, but that experience forged her destiny. "Since then, I think I was already starting to fulfill that calling as a community health worker and start serving, because it all starts with your family," she reflects.

Latino Mission: From a Classroom to a Regional Movement

About three years ago, Watie founded "Misión Latina," a group of volunteer health promoters in southwest Kansas. The initiative was born unexpectedly. Watie was teaching adult English classes in Grant County when, one day, she asked her students, "If I started a promotora group here in our county, would anyone be interested?" Four women raised their hands, and the group was born.

Realizing that Grant County was a predominantly Latino community that lacked this type of support, Watie requested permission from her employer to replicate the promotoras models already in place in other counties. The name "Misión Latina" was democratically chosen by the members because it is clear and powerful: "It speaks of us being on a mission. We don't get together just to waste time. We are here to make a difference in our community," says Watie.

Although they started in Grant County, their impact has grown. Misión Latina now supports events in neighboring Finney, Seward, and Hamilton counties. What does this group do? Its goal is to close gaps and ensure the community receives comprehensive support, addressing what experts call the "social determinants of health"—the conditions in which people are born, grow, live, and work, such as transportation and mental health.

At local health fairs, Misión Latina promotoras offer free blood pressure and blood glucose checks. They also collaborate with organizations like K-State Research and Extension (a statewide network of educational resources and agricultural research at Kansas State University) to conduct free car seat checkups.

The impact of Misión Latina is literally lifesaving. Watie shares the recent case of a widowed woman in the community who suffered from depression so severe that she had accumulated more than 30 cats in her RV, living in deplorable conditions and isolated. One of the promotoras, who was a friend of hers, invited her to a meeting of Misión Latina. "Since she started in the group of promotoras, we have linked her with resources. She has come out of her shell. She is seeking medical attention," Watie says proudly. Today, that same woman is part of the promotoras and uses her experience to help others.

The community faces a lack of resources

The model of the promotoras works. Scientific evidence in Kansas shows that they achieve high participation and connect Latino families with medical services. However, they face major structural barriers. The state of Kansas does not have formal certification for community health workers or a Medicaid reimbursement system. For this reason, these promotoras do not have a clear professional path and receive low salaries or, as in Misión Latina, depend only on volunteering.

Misión Latina during Latino Day in Topeka, KS. Picture taken from their social media.

"That has been a barrier. It's been a real challenge," Watie says of the lack of funding. To maintain their basic operations, the women of Misión Latina must organize fundraisers, such as selling food in the summer. This money barely covers basic expenses. If the group wants to travel to the state capital, Topeka, for "Latino Day" in the legislature and to defend their rights, they must pay out of pocket for gas, hotels, and the trip, with a round-trip of up to six hours. Luckily, earlier this year, they received funding to attend "Latino Day" in Topeka.

Watie feels this injustice strongly. "I feel like they're volunteers who are already sacrificing a lot of their time away from their families, sometimes leaving their full-time job (...) And I struggle with the idea that, even after all the sacrifices, they still have to work for their own money to be able to equip themselves and serve the community," she laments.

How the community and foundations can drive change

The data is clear: interventions that only focus on individual behavior, such as eating better or exercising, are not enough if structural barriers are not addressed. At the government level, expanding Medicaid could be the most important change, as it would cover thousands of adults and free up funds to pay for the work of promotoras like those of Misión Latina. It is also key that the State establish certification for these health care workers and that institutions comply with federal civil rights laws requiring interpreters and medical materials in Spanish.

Misión Latina has big dreams, but it needs infrastructure. Their primary goal now is to find resources or expert counsel to help them through the legal process of becoming a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, a U.S. Revenue Service designation that allows organizations to be tax-exempt and receive deductible donations.

A Call to Action

"In Kansas, there is an urgent need to provide direct, unrestricted grants to grassroots groups, such as Misión Latina. That they are not seen as temporary pilot projects. Funds are needed so that groups like Misión Latina do not have to sell food to pay for the gas they use to bring health to the most forgotten places in their counties." Watie emphasizes. Funding legal counsel to obtain 501(c)(3) status from Misión Latina will ensure the group's long-term survival.

According to Watie, it is also important that hospitals and clinics in the region recognize promotoras as an official part of their teams. Invest in community contracts that pay these groups for the health checks and referrals they already make for free.

Watie says it is also imperative that the community support Misión Latina events, amplify their voices, and demand that local representatives advocate for language access in schools and hospitals.

In Grant County, the Latino majority has already built community; it fills schools, operates businesses, and keeps the economy alive. Despite a health system that ignores them, the emergence of Misión Latina proves that resilience and love for others are unwavering. Now, the questions are: what will the institutions, donors, and the state of Kansas do? What will be the next step to invest in those who, like Lucy Watie and her promotoras, are already paving the way for a healthier and fairer future for all?

This article has been produced as part of the 2025 Fellowship of AltaVoz Lab, a nonprofit organization that mentors, trains, and empowers local journalists to produce impactful, collaborative, accountability-oriented, and public service journalism projects in media outlets serving historically disadvantaged communities across the United States.