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…
Death Sucks. So Does Life.
When I found out that the husband of a friend had died I first felt sad, then angry. It makes me furious that so many people want to die, but instead people like her man die. But it's a random, godless world so there's no place to direct my anger. Everything just...
Stuff I’ve Noticed
Inspired by the final blog post of Obesio the Loser, a former online-friend, here's a list of stuff I've noticed over the decades. 1. Sometimes it gets better. Sometimes it doesn't. 2. No two people are exactly alike, but few people are genuinely special. 3. I still...
If Your Friend Is Depressed, Try This
This is what you can do when I'm so depressed that I sit there like a zombie and stare into space or can't stop crying. This might not apply to anyone else, but it's good for me. 1. Give me your full attention. 2. Say nothing. Just sit there in silence even if it's...


