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…
T-Minus 11 Days…
We're eleven days away from the hand-over of power in Iraq and I feel new doubt about our -- the American people -- our decision-making ability. No, we didn't elect George W, but knowing what we know now, would we have allowed him to take office as easily as he did in...
Dating, Part One
I'm encouraged by the responses to yesterday's posting about America's foreign policy. Some responded here and some friends emailed me directly. Thank you for telling me you feel the same way. I feel less alone and I feel like a silence has been broken. I'm lightening...
Ashamed to be American
The events themselves were horrifying and numbing at the same time. Constant reviewing of them, trying to determine how everything happened and why, keeps the events alive in my memory along with the pain and grieving I thought I had finished. There is no chance to...
