Chicana on the Edge

Mentioning the unmentionable since 2004

You can’t cure families: you can only prevent them.

I’m Regina Rodríguez-Martin and this is the blog of a middle-aged Mexican American woman. In 2004 the word was that blogs were over, but a friend had a blog and I wanted one, too. I started Chicana on the Edge on June 17, 2004 and have kept it going ever since (my friends’ blog ended years ago).

The “edge” refers to being in the margin of the margin of culture and society. For instance, as a Chicana I’m on the outside of mainstream American culture, but I’m on the margin of Mexican American culture as well.

Invoking Steve Martin: I was born a small white child. Actually, I was born in the 1960s to Mexican American parents who raised me in a very white part of Northern California. My parents were born in the U.S and my dad’s parents were born in the U.S. but his grandparents and my mother’s parents were from Mexico.

In the 1970s and 80s I grew up in a white city with white friends, went to white schools and dated white boys. I sound like a white woman when I talk. (As “Regina Rodriguez” I went to Las Lomas in Walnut Creek.)

Later I went to U.C. Berkeley and Cornell and got degrees in English literature. Cornell is where I first faced obvious racism, which made it the first place I really felt like a Mexican. I’ve become steadily more Mexican ever since.

At the age of 27 I moved to Chicago to seek my fortune (still seeking) and every year since I’ve become more aware of racism in all its degrees. 

My favorite color is pink, I couldn’t live without peanut butter and my favorite season is winter. Chicago’s gray, protracted winters are a main reason I moved here in 1993 and I’ve always known it was the perfect decision for me. I don’t want to live anywhere else and I don’t want to die anywhere else.

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Mother’s English Tea Cookies

Mother’s English Tea Cookies

These have been my favorite cookies for a long time. Only stores on the West Coast of the USA carry them. I can't get them in Chicago, but I grew up with them and try to bring some back whenever I'm out there. I've been known to blow through a whole package in no...

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Holding Secrets

Blogging is hard when there are things you don't want certain people in your life to know. I hate secrets. I grew up with secrets. My mother does secrets all too well. I don't tend to keep personal secrets about myself (as my blog readers have probably figured out)...

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Happy Day of Mothers? Okay.

May has always been a crappy month for me. I dislike the loss of winter with its quiet, soothing cover of clouds and coldness. I'm also prone to spring allergies, but mostly I don't react well to Mother's Day. Or at least I didn't in the past. For a long time I've...

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