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.
Explore my blog…
Not a Lenten Sacrifice
The challenge: from 26 February to 4 March I'm cutting out all wheat and processed sweets. These foods give me stomach aches and keep me awake at night, so I've got to make a change. I think if I could just get a streak going and stop the sugar roller coaster, I might...
I’m Not This Animal’s “Mom”
If I'd known that getting a dog would cause some people to call me its "mom," I would have hesitated even more than I did. If I had wanted to be a "mom" I would have either given birth to or adopted a child. I didn't do either of those things and I prefer not to be...
What Is It Like to be Married?
[Photo taken at L. Woods Tap and Pine Lodge.] It seems to me that married people often hedge when asked what being married is like. They say things like "marriage takes work," and "every marriage is different." When I was single, this answer made me think, "Yeah,...


