University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Splitting Aztlán: American resistance and Chicana visions of a radical utopia

(USC Thesis Other)

Splitting Aztlán: American resistance and Chicana visions of a radical utopia

PDF

Download a page range

Download transcript

Copy asset link

Request this asset

Transcript (if available)

Content SPLITTING AZTLAN: AMERICAN RESISTANCE AND CHICANA VISIONS OF A RADICAL UTOPIA by Annemarie Pérez __________________________________________________________________ A Dissertation Presented to the FACULTY OF THE USC GRADUATE SCHOOL UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY (ENGLISH) May 2011 Copyright 2011 Annemarie Pérez ii Dedication For my parents, Rita Mahony Pérez and Gregory S. Pérez. iii Acknowledgments I would first and last and always like to thank my dissertation advisor, Teresa McKenna, for her support, patience, and encouragement throughout my graduate studies. It has been a joy and honor to work as her student. I also thank for their direction, assistance, and guidance, Thomas Gustafson, Alice Gambrell and George Sanchez. Their enthusiasm, insight and support were always genuine and helpful. During the dissertation proposal stage, I received much needed help from Tania Modleski, Deena Gonzalez, Tiffany Lopez and Yvonne Yarbro-Bejarano. Their suggestions and constructive criticism on Chicana community and anthology were invaluable. I also gratefully acknowledge the institutional support that I have received while working on this project. In particular, I thank the Ford Foundation and the University of Southern California for supporting me with generous fellowships, and the Irvine Foundation for their funding of the summer dissertation writing workshop at USC. iv To my dear friends, Jinny Huh and Elizabeth Binggeli, who taught me the value of intellectual and emotional friendship, standing with me from start to finish, I owe debts beyond repayment. Finally, words alone cannot express my gratitude to Paul Bailey for his love, encouragement and assistance. In the end, it was his support which made finishing this dissertation possible. v Table of Contents Dedication ii Acknowledgments iii List of Figures vii Abstract viii Chapter 1: Introduction 1 Chapter 1: Bibliography 66 Chapter 2: Gazing East: Race Purity and Virtue in Who Would 73 Have Thought It? Chapter 2: Bibliography 169 Chapter 3: Textual Community and the Anthology 174 Chapter 3: Bibliography 239 Chapter 4: Voices from the Divide 245 Chapter 4: Bibliography 307 Chapter 5: Coda - Aztlán the Cosmopolis 315 Chapter 5: Bibliography 351 Bibliography 356 vi Appendices 376 Appendix A: Contributors to This Bridge Called My Back 376 Appendix B: Contributors to Chicana Voices 387 Appendix C: Annotated Bibliography: Chicana Feminism 410 in This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color Appendix D: Annotated Bibliography: Histories of 416 Chicana Feminism vii List of Figures Figure 1: Resistance Spectrum / Dialectic 21 Figure 2: Original Title Page for Who Would Have Thought It? 86 Figure 3: Xerox Art by Rini Templeton 204 Figure 4: Cover Art from This Bridge Called My Back (1984) 267 Figure 5: Cover Art from This Bridge Called My Back (2002) 270 Figure 6: Cover Art from Chicana Voices: Intersections of 286 Class, Race and Gender Figure 7: Maria Teresa Fernadez: Partiendo el Oceano, 336 Playas de Tijuana Figure 8: Border Agents through a Hole in the Border Fence 337 viii Abstract My dissertation researches American resistance movements, focusing on nineteenth-century Transcendentalism and the Chicano/a movements of the 1960s through 1990s. It is concerned specifically with the emergence of Chicano/a literature from the late nineteenth century through the twentieth century, especially Chicana authorship and editorship as part of a tradition of U.S. resistance literature. The 1960s was a period of renewed interest in the literature of American Transcendentalist communities, especially the writings of David Henry Thoreau regarding resistance and civil disobedience. This re-reading shaped and informed American civil protest literature of the 1960s, including that of the Chicano Movement. Reverberations connect the two periods in the area of non-violent social protest. Further resonances may be heard now between the nineteenth-century suffrage and abolitionist movements and the 1960s civil rights and anti-war movements, as they questioned the United States’ role as an ix imperial nation -- a role begun with the nineteenth-century policy of Manifest Destiny. The replication of and discursive focus on nation and universalized communities of men, opened space for women as editors and authors. Chicana writers and editors of the late twentieth century, like the protofeminists of the nineteenth-century suffrage movement, split the single “divine soul” by pointing out the contradictions and flaws in a discourse on the nation which presumes only masculine subjects. Both ultimately created textual communities as sites for feminist, cosmopoetic and cosmopolitical interventions. At the same time, like African American feminists of the same period, they resisted the essentialist and universalizing feminist gaze, creating out of this a U.S. differential feminism of color. The opening section of my dissertation, comprising the first two chapters, is an introductory discussion of textual communities and resistance literature, focusing on both United States Transcendentalism and the emergence of Chicana feminist authors and editors. Chapter Two is a reading of María Amparo Ruiz de Burton’s 1872 text, Who Would Have Thought It?, as both a satire of x United States northeastern culture and politics, and a statement of resistance to Manifest Destiny. Ruiz de Burton’s work resists the westward gaze of northeastern U.S. literature, instead looking east from western / Californian eyes, specifically at the New England northeast. A satire, the novel was explicitly written to resist the author’s sense of cultural annihilation, against both the Californios’ sense of their own invisibility and the larger national policy of Manifest Destiny. The second section of my dissertation, comprising Chapters Three and Four, looks at the emergence of Chicana authorship and editorship during the Chicano civil rights movement of the 1960s and 1970s. Chapter Three examines late twentieth-century Chicana authorship and editorship, using close textual readings from diverse archival sources, including the Chicano newspaper El Grito del Norte and its collective of writers and editors, especially Elizabeth Martinez and Enriqueta Vásquez, to explore the evolution of Chicana editorship and the development of textual communities within and around the developing mythology of Aztlán. Chapter Four focuses on Chicana feminist writers and editors in the 1980s, especially Cherrie Moraga xi and Gloria Anzaldúa. The two used their anthology, This Bridge Called My Back, for a similar purpose, creating a textual community / collective of writers which participated in the project of developing and defining a specific new feminism by women of color, as well as Anzaldúa’s border theory. This research examines and participates in the discussion of emergent writing and editorship by women of color, and how these feminists fit into the larger tradition of textual communities in the United States. The dissertation concludes with a re-examination of Aztlán as a site of resistance, a borderland cosmopolitan and cosmopoetic space. While “cosmopolitan” traditionally speaks of urban sensibilities, recent scholarship on the modern and postmodern evolution of cosmopolitanism offers a new and renewed vision that utilizes pre- Kantian cosmopolitanism. This vision imagines a world city space and citizenship which exists outside the confines of borders, while also tempering the effects of globalism; a space which acts against the confines of nationalism and outside the power of the state. This new type of cosmopolitanism has been named “borderland cosmopolitanism,” one which exists at rural crossroads as well as in xii cities; it is a cosmopolitanism of the indigenous as well as the elite. Borderland cosmopolitanism does not just attack the nation; it also destabilizes citizenship and, in doing so, endangers the authority of the state and nation. 1 Chapter 1 Introduction And thus, not long after Tomas Rivera published his now classic ....Y no se lo tragó la tierra, his boy protagonist’s greatest fear, that the earth would part, has materialized under the pens of not one but many Chicana poets and cultural practitioners. Yes, the earth [...] has parted, and has parted not once, but twice -- this second time self- consciously along gender lines that deconstruct sexism from within the arena of Chicana/o cultural production itself. 1 The summer of 2004 my partner Paul and I walked two blocks to our local post office. We had just moved and so we needed to do the normal, mundane moving things, fill out address cards, send off some packages, mail some letters and buy some stamps. But most importantly, Paul needed to report our change of address to 1 Angie Chabram-Dernersesian, "And, Yes... The Earth Did Part: On the Splitting of Chicana/O Subjectivity," Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies, ed. Beatriz M. Pesquera Adela de la Torre (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1993). (39) 2 the United States Department of Homeland Security as per the terms of his visa. I stood next to him, watching, as he wrote his new address on envelopes and mail certification forms and felt afraid, even though neither of us had done anything wrong. The act itself seemed such a display of state and national power, yet another reminder of their control over our lives. Years before, as I waited in Los Angeles while Paul was stranded in Canada, unable to re-enter the United States and finally forced by the immigration authorities to return to his own country, I had imagined nothing could be as fear-evoking as the letters “I,” “N,” “S,” but the U.S. government’s use of the Orwellian “Department of Homeland Security” language definitely trumps it. 2 What did it mean, I wondered, that my beloved was legally required to report his eleven- mile cross-town move to the same federal agency that was -- and still is -- responsible for holding hundreds of men for years without charge or trial in a prison they had built on a legal no-man’s-land in 2 The United States government’s use of the word “Homeland,” which evokes images of the safety and privacy of home and hearth and, to Chicano/as, echoes of Aztlán, is especially ironic. 3 Cuba? Clearly we had fallen through a looking-glass on our way to a state of perpetual war against vaguely dark, enemy others. Given that the United States has spent the first decade of the twenty-first century promoting nationalism to an almost religious level (and pushing religion into fundamentalist extremes), while branding those who have resisted the new millennium’s wars and intrusive government actions against civil liberty “un-American,” perhaps it is strange to propose that there is a tradition of American protest and resistance in U.S. art and literature and, further, that this tradition of resistance is a vital part of the United States’ belief in its own exceptionalism. 3 At the dawn of our new century, more than at any other point in the past thirty-five years, resistance and protest against the government and status quo were (and to a large extent still are) 3 “The position of the Americans is therefore quite exceptional, and it may be believed that no democratic people will ever be placed in a similar one. Their strictly Puritanical origin, their exclusively commercial habits, even the country they inhabit, which seems to divert their minds from the pursuit of science, literature, and the arts, the proximity of Europe, which allows them to neglect these pursuits without relapsing into barbarism, [...] Let us cease, then, to view all democratic nations under the example of the American people.” Alexis de Tocqueville, Gerald E. Bevan and Isaac Kramnick, Democracy in America: And Two Essays on America (London, UK: Penguin Books, 2003). (519) 4 viewed as subversive, unpatriotic and, even, as putting the nation’s security at risk. 4 To this end, the utopian and unifying transnational vision of Aztlán, created out of the 1960s and 1970s Chicano/a civil rights movement, has been co-opted and twisted by the extreme right to offer “proof” of their dystopian vision of a brown invasion coming from the south. Even something as seemingly unremarkable as favoring multilateralism or supporting the United Nations is viewed by many as anti-American in its lack of patriotic nationalism. Yet it is exactly at this time that it is important to remember that a literature as radical and resistant as that of the early Chicano Movement is part of a tradition of United States resistance literature, a tradition which dates back to the nation’s founding. The notion of resistance, as Sacvan Bercovitch writes in his work, the American Jeremiad, is part of the notion of renewal, vital to how the nation 4 The by turns mocking and fear-mongering use of the term Aztlán may be found on far-right and militia sites all over the internet, some of which carry articles by members of Congress and state legislatures. One of them, “IllegalAliens.US” ( http://www.illegalaliens.us ), was today (1 April 2010) the second Google hit when I searched for the term “Aztlán.” 5 defines itself. 5 Central to the tradition of resistance literature is American Transcendentalism, an important movement in philosophy and literature that emerged during the early to middle years of the nineteenth century, flourishing between about 1830 and 1850. 6 The Transcendentalist movement saw itself as heir to the American Revolution, its members as participants in the conscious creation of a body of national literature for and from the United States. Likewise, the early Chicano movement claimed kinship to and inspiration from the ideology of Emiliano Zapata and the radicals of the Mexican Revolution, especially Zapata, whose slogan, Tierra y Liberated, resonated well with mid-century Chicanos seeking social justice and change. 7 The “Chicano movement” were in fact multiple movements which came together, dividing and splitting again within themselves. The movement came into being in the midst of the turmoil of the 5 Sacvan Bercovitch, The American Jeremiad (Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1978). 6 Philip F. Gura, American Transcendentalism: A History, 1st ed. (New York, NY: Hill and Wang, 2007). (xiii-xiv) 7 Alicia Gaspar de Alba, Chicano Art inside/Outside the Master's House: Cultural Politics and the Cara Exhibition, 1st ed. (Austin, TX: University of Texas Press, 1998). (53) 6 1960-70s, containing divisions based around issues of civil rights, Marxism and issues of gender as well as individual region and personalities. Some of these movements were both united around and inspired by the vision of creating and building Aztlán as a Chicano nation. They carried with them some of the power and pitfalls of a nationalistic vision, 8 while both also reacted against what they perceived as the immoral / conservative nationalism of the larger United States. The Chicano nationalist movement, and Aztlán in particular, is an excellent demonstration of the suggestion that “all nationalism is both healthy and morbid. Both progress and regress are inscribed in its genetic code from the start” in both its strengths and weaknesses. 8 Tom Nairn, The Break-up of Britain (London, UK: New Left Books, 1981). (347 - 348) 7 Resistance and Revolution: Introduction [...] then let us remain naive, naively and passionately committed to an art of “resistance,” resistance to domination by Anglo-America, resistance to assimilation, resistance to economic and sexual exploitation. An art that subscribes to integration into mainstream Amerika is not Chicano art. 9 The Chicano Movements were movements of resistance that, to some extent yearned for social and political revolution while the Transcendentalists were largely resistance movement. 10 Starting from the premise that theory explains how things work, a central question must be how to discuss the possibility of a theory of resistance literature able to encompass American nineteenth and twentieth century literature, especially the emergence of Chicano/a texts in the 1960s - 1980s. Further, it is important to address questions of the 9 Cherríe Moraga, The Last Generation (Boston, MA: South End Press, 1993). 10 While it was the case that the Transcendentalists largely opposed violent revolution, they did express sympathy with John Brown, speaking out on his behalf and fundraising on behalf of his family. Ralph Waldo Emerson, Len Gougeon and Joel Myerson, Emerson's Antislavery Writings (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995). 8 possibility of connecting Transcendentalism and the Chicano/a movement to each other, despite their generally being treated as disparate parts of United States literature and the history of American resistance movements. The first questions have to do with American Transcendentalism: how was it a resistance movement, and which nineteenth century American resistance movements did it inspire and support? The second is in relation to the Chicano/a movement(s): how do they fit in with larger resistance movements of the twentieth century? One of the first issues to start with is defining the differences between resistance and revolution, a difference somewhat confused by both the theoretical and popular usage of the terms. Edward Said sees resistance as an inevitable result of Western imperial conquest, writing Yet it was the case nearly everywhere in the non- European world that the coming of the white man brought forth some sort of resistance. [...] [T]here also went some considerable efforts in cultural resistance almost everywhere. [...] Never was it the case that the imperial encounter pitted an active Western intruder 9 against a supine or inert non-Western native; there was always some form of active resistance [...] 11 This view is underlined by Homi Bhabha’s notion of post-colonial mimicry as a form of resistance. If Said’s contention is true, that contact and conquest inevitably result in resistance reactions against the conquerer, the question then becomes how a resistance movement and / or resistance literature differs from a revolution or revolutionary literature. While in popular usage resistance and revolution are terms frequently used interchangeably, the origins of the words themselves differ profoundly and are important to understanding the differences between the two. Resistance dates from the late fourteenth century, resister, from old French and from Latin resistere "to resist, to stand back, withstand," from re- "against" and -sistere "take a stand, stand firm," while revolution, also from old French revolution, and from Latin revolutionem (nom. revolutio) "a revolving," and revolvere "turn, roll 11 Edward W. Said, Culture and Imperialism, 1st Vintage Books ed. (New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1994). (xii) 10 back.” Revolutionary 12 as a noun is first found in 1850, from the adjective, likely developed out of revolutionize, "to change a thing completely and fundamentally" -- whose first recorded usage was in 1799. So in its origins, resistance, 13 a significantly older term, denotes a sense of holding or standing fast, one very much in line with its usage by Henry David Thoreau in his essay “Civil Disobedience.” 14 Resistance acts, as Thoreau describes them, are acts which can be performed by a single individual holding fast to an idea, refusing to accept or comply with a government or social organization they believe to be wrong. Acts of resistance and civil disobedience attempt to stand fast in the face of power, rather than attempting to overthrow that power. In this sense, resistance is conservative rather than progressive or change oriented. By contrast, 12 Political meaning first recorded 1600, derived from French, and was especially applied to the expulsion of the Stuart dynasty under James II in 1688 and transfer of sovereignty to William and Mary. (OED) 13 Resistance is commonly defined (first meaning) as “the refusal to accept or comply with something; the attempt to prevent something by action or argument”. 14 Henry David Thoreau, Walden and Civil Disobedience (New York, NY: Penguin Books, 1983). (385-413) 11 revolution 15 comes from a root meaning to revolve or to overthrow. Revolutions are about making fundamental changes to the source and nature of power. That said, resistance movements, when they are collective rather than individual acts of dissent, can merge into and become revolutionary movements, especially when combined with post-colonialism and nationalism. In situations like Ghana’s India or the global South African anti-apartheid movement, largely non-violent resistance ultimately resulted in political revolution as acts of individual and collective resistance gained widespread acceptance and resulted in an overthrow of the power structure and system of government. Use of the term resistance, 16 like that of “civil disobedience,” embues the acts and actors with a degree of legitimacy, at least in the eye / mind of the speaker, and generally reflects a positive political judgement. The positive connotation of the term resistance 15 Revolution is defined (first meanings) as “a forcible overthrow of a government or social order in favor of a new system” and “a dramatic and wide-reaching change in the way something works or is organized or in people's ideas about it” (Oxford New American). 16 As opposed to, for example, the term “terrorist.” 12 likely would have been felt even more strongly in the 1950 - 1960s, as the most famous, and arguably the first, use of the term resistance movement 17 referred to the World War II French underground movement against the Nazi occupation and Vichy government. Then too, there is also the notion of resistance as conservative, in the sense of the French Resistance being opposed to change coming from the government, rather than “revolution” which speaks to governmental overthrow. The spectrum of resistance ranges from individual acts of subversion -- what Scott James calls “weapons of the weak” 18 -- to direct collective action, short of political revolution. 19 In July of 1846, while the United States fought with Mexico in a war that almost doubled the U.S. landmass and thereby took over the 17 While the term “resistance” was used prior to World War II, its designation for a specific movement dates first to its use referring to the “French Resistance.” 18 James C. Scott, Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1985). 19 Richard Gabriel Fox and Orin Starn, Between Resistance and Revolution: Cultural Politics and Social Protest (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1997). (2-3) 13 territory that would a little over one hundred years later become the location and desire for Aztlán, David Henry Thoreau sat in jail overnight 20 for refusing to pay his poll tax due to his opposition to this very Mexican / American War. As Thoreau explained in a lecture that became the basis for his essay “Civil Disobedience,” The mass of men serve the State[...] not as men mainly, but as machines, with their bodies. [...] A very few, as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and men, serve the State with their consciences also, and so necessarily resist it for the most part; and they are commonly treated by it as enemies.[...] When a sixth of the population of a nation which has undertaken to be the refuge of liberty are slaves, and a whole country is unjustly overrun and conquered by a foreign army, and subjected to military law, I think that it is not too soon for honest men to rebel and revolutionize. 21 Yet ultimately what Thoreau argued for was not a rebellion or revolution, for he did not see himself as a leader of either. What he argued for was resistance: resistance enough to put one’s self outside 20 Thoreau intended his jail stay to be longer, however his taxes were paid by a female friend or relative (mostly likely his aunt) and he was released the following morning. Thoreau, Walden and Civil Disobedience. (406-407) 21 Henry David Thoreau, Walden and Civil Disobedience (New York, NY: Penguin Classics, 1983). (388-390) 14 of culpability, to not participate in the crimes of the state even if the alternative was prison. As his reference to slavery in the passage above indicates, what Thoreau was protesting by non-payment of his taxes was slavery and the United States’ war with Mexico. 22 The year before, in 1845, Frederick Douglass wrote of the power of resistance in the form of individual revolt in his Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass I seized Covey hard by the throat; and as I did so, I rose. My resistance was so entirely unexpected, that Covey seemed taken all aback. [...] This gave me assurance, and I held him uneasy, causing the blood to run where I touched him with the ends of my fingers. [...] He asked me if I meant to persist in my resistance. I told him I did, come what might; that he had used me like a brute for six months, and that I was determined to be used so no longer. [...] We were at it for nearly two hours. Covey at length let me go, puffing and blowing at a great rate, saying that if I had not resisted, he would 22 Slavery and the U.S. Mexican War were connected as the annexation of Texas and other western lands was (correctly) seen by abolitionists as a move to increase the number of slave states and return slavery to Texas where it had alreadybeen abolished by the Mexican government. 15 not have whipped me half so much. The truth was, that he had not whipped me at all. 23 Douglass explicitly states that his act of resistance against Covey not only saved his life, but also “revived within me a sense of my own manhood [...] however long I might remain a slave in form, the day had passed forever when I could be a slave in fact.” 24 This sentiment, that strength is both shown and gained via resistance, is echoed in Thoreau’s statement that The State never intentionally confronts a man's sense, intellectual or moral, but only his body, his senses. It is not armed with superior wit or honesty, but with superior physical strength. I was not born to be forced. I will breathe after my own fashion. Let us see who is the strongest. 25 The Thoreau and Douglass texts, both published in Boston, and likewise, both products of lectures given in the Concord and Boston areas in the 1840s, ultimately inspired and energized not only the 23 Frederick Douglass, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, The Oxford Frederick Douglass Reader, ed. William L. Andrews (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 1996). (68) 24 Douglass, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. (69) 25 Thoreau, Walden and Civil Disobedience. (403) 16 United States abolition movement, 26 but later the 1950s and 1960s African American civil rights movement. Both men focus on resistance as an expression of a deeper truth. Douglass, with his physical resistance / revolt against the slave master’s authority, claimed his body and labor as his own, while Thoreau’s resistance was individual and conservative, withdrawing financial support from a state he felt was implicating him in the immorality of enslaving Douglass. The notion of resistance, as Sacvan Bercovitch writes in his work The American Jeremiad, is part of renewal which is vital to how the nation defines itself, 27 while at the same time the Jeremiad is part of the mono-vision of “American” as a single culture which goes against so much cultural studies theory that claims the opposite. The origins of the theory of non-violent resistance are often ascribed to 26 At the same time, United States abolitionists were themselves inspired and influenced by the global abolition movement, especially by the movement in Britain, one which pre-dated the founding of the United States. 27 Bercovitch, The American Jeremiad. 17 Henry David Thoreau’s 1849 essay “Civil Disobedience.” 28 Civil disobedience has come to be defined as an active refusal to obey laws and commands of government power without resorting to acts of physical violence, in contrast to acts of revolution, which are more concerned with overthrowing government. The resistance form 29 of Gandhi, which is extreme in its commitment to non-violence, was inspired both by his reading of Thoreau and his study of traditional forms of Indian protest. 30 His movement used civil disobedience, and a form of mass protest Gandhi later would term civil resistance, as a tool of anti-colonialism. 31 Resistance movements have long been a part of United States - - that is to say American -- history. An early instance of American resistance is the “Boston Tea Party” in 1773. While this, like other 28 Thoreau, Walden and Civil Disobedience. (385-413) 29 Known as ahimsa or satyagraha. 30 Gandhi and Narayan Shriman, The Selected Works of Mahatma Gandhi (Ahmedabad, India: Navajivan Publishing House, 1968). 31 Dharam Pal, "Civil Disobedience in Indian Tradition," Dharam Pal's Collected Writings, ed. Intro by: Jayprakash Narayan, vol. 2 (Other India Press, 2000). 18 colonial tax resistance, was largely non-violent, a crime against property rather than persons, it was a form of resistance against payment of a tax widely considered unfair. 32 In the twentieth century, Dr. Martin Luther King and activists in the American civil rights movement of the 1950s - 1960s were inspired by both Gandhi’s movement against British colonialism and Thoreau’s essay on “Civil Disobedience.” Under those influences, the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s widely adopted the techniques of non-violent resistance, the most notable and well-remembered example of which was the Montgomery bus boycott. Many of the antiwar activists who opposed the United States’ war against Vietnam also employed tactics of non- violent resistance. The United States political right also adopted tactics of civil disobedience, beginning in the 1960s, in opposition to federally mandated de-segregation (though these tactics were also supported by the local power structures and were hardly non-violent). In the 32 Other forms of American colonial resistance were boycotts of British products / imports, letters of protest via Committees of Correspondence, petitions to the King and Parliament, and the publication of pamphlets and newspapers deriding British policies toward the colonies. 19 1980s, social conservatives used tactics of non-violent protest and civil disobedience to block entrances to abortion clinics, though again these blockades sometimes became violent and linked with clinic bombings, which occurred in the same period. In the twenty-first century the conservative “Tea Party” movement, one which is far right, and seems a backlash against both political parties, has used non- violent protest against what it deems social and political liberalism. A Theory of United States Resistance Literature Chicanos have been silenced not only by the grave but by political transformation, social dispossession, cultural rupture, and linguistic alienation. Yet traces of Mexican American lives do indeed reside in autobiographical memoirs so long out of print they are nearly forgotten [...] [W]hen Mexicans were colonized by the United States [...] they immediately gave utterance to the threat of social erasure. 33 33 Genaro M. Padilla, My History, Not Yours: The Formation of Mexican American Autobiography, Wisconsin Studies in American Autobiography (Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1993). 3-4. 20 Within resistance literature and resistance studies generally, 34 a dialectic exists between dissent (individual, conservative, nonviolent, cultural) on one end and revolution (collective / movement - based, change - oriented, violent, political) on the other. These two positions exist on a spectrum and, in the case of United States literature, are mediated by reformation as both a collective / social impulse on dissent and as a conservative impulse on revolution. To the extent that a resistance movement becomes more political, the greater its impulse toward change and nationalism. My thesis regarding resistance literature depends on the notion that, at least with regard to United States literature resistance, dissent and resistance have been mediated by an impulse toward reformation and reformation movements, rather than governmental overthrow. It is within this mediated spectrum, the space between individual dissent 34 The following was taken from readings in resistance studies, especially: Richard Gabriel Fox and Orin Starn, Between Resistance and Revolution : Cultural Politics and Social Protest (New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 1997). Jeff C. Pratt, Class, Nation and Identity : The Anthropology of Political Movements (London ; Sterling, Va.: Pluto Press, 2003). Liah Greenfeld, Nationalism and the Mind : Essays on Modern Culture (Oxford: Oneworld, 2006). 21 and political revolution, that the United States movements of resistance and resistance literature largely fall -- a definition of resistance literature slightly outside the more nationalist definition that has been used to categorize and discuss contemporary transnational resistance literature. Figure 1: Resistance Spectrum / Dialectic 22 Barbara Harlow, in her text Resistance Literature 35 a study of colonial and post-colonial “Third World” literatures (she examines Palestinian, South African and Nicaraguan authors and texts) through the lens of resistance, offers a complex definition of literatures of literature, one rooted in politics and revolution. Her definition moves away from the categorizations of literature as having specific “national” bases of study. Harlow’s theory states that [w]hereas the social and the personal have tended to displace the political in western literary and cultural studies, the emphasis in the literature of resistance is on the political as the power to change the world. The theory of resistance literature is in its politics. 36 As a term, resistance literature, for Harlow, is always used in the context of political resistance. Harlow uses it to discuss resistance to colonialism, by movements which themselves are often nationalist. Yet I question if -- or how -- her definition of resistance literature can be expanded to encompass social, cultural or economic resistance, or 35 Barbara Harlow, Resistance Literature (London, UK: Methuen and Co: University Paperbacks, 1987). 36 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (30) 23 if it must be left only to the political. Harlow’s narrower definition of dissent is expanded by other post colonial critics, notably both Said and Bhabha, who see individual social and cultural dissent in art and literature as forms of protest against cultural as well as political domination. While my own theories of dissent and resistance tend toward their broader cultural resistance, Harlow’s narrower definition is useful is drawing clearer lines defining political movements. Harlow’s theory works to define resistance literature in a way that is specific to individual national literature, but also transnational. In an interview with Betsy Esch and Nancy Coffin, Harlow defines resistance literature at the request of her interviewers, limiting the term’s use to very specific political circumstances BH: [...] my definition of resistance literature is that it is a very site and history specific literature. Resistance literature was written in the context of organized resistance movements and national liberation struggles. There are no more national liberation struggles. There are no more organized resistance movements. There is no more resistance literature. There are other kinds of 24 literature, just as there are other kinds of struggles. But that one is over, as a literature it is closed. 37 The interviewers follows this up further by asking NC: [...] It seems very clear that we do find that literature does still give hope and voice, and should be read as historical document especially when there is so little hopeful on the horizon. BH: I'm not saying literature can't do that. Part of my argument is not just with regard to politics but also with regard to literary studies. That is against the perceived literary ethos that literature exists outside of time and place, only represents universal values and so on. On the contrary, I think that literature is really history specific, really site specific and is a worldly phenomenon. So I want to create some possibilities for literature by limiting the definition of resistance literature. I want literature to be able to exist at historical conjunctures, to take seriously what the realities are that it has to negotiate. I do not want the term resistance to be deactivated and I think we run that risk. 38 Through this definition, Harlow connects resistance literature to historical moments and political movements. Her greatest specificity, 37 Betsy Esch and Nancy Coffin, On Literature and Resistance, 1997, Interview, Available: http://www.solidarity-us.org/node/1835, 11 September 2009. 38 Esch and Coffin, Solidarity: A Democratic, Revolutionary Socialist, Feminist, Anti-Racist Organization. 25 given the connections she makes elsewhere in the interview and in her writing regarding the Palestinian cause, is in regard to post- colonial literature. When reading Chicano/a literature as resistance literature, there is clearly historical specificity and geographic location to be found in in the Californio writing of the late nineteenth century. Genaro M. Papilla points this out in his study of Mexican American autobiography My study hinges on the proposition that when Mexicans were colonized by the United States [...] they immediately gave utterance to the threat of social erasure. 39 Clearly defined historical / geographical location is also present in the Chicano/a writings of the 1960s - 1980s -- though the location of both the resistance and the literature moves during this period from localized community sites to the academy / university. However, there are problems with viewing Chicano/a history and resistance as simply that of a post-colonial or colonized people. Chicano/a history is that of both the colonized and colonizer. As 39 Padilla, My History, Not Yours: The Formation of Mexican American Autobiography. (4) 26 Laura Romero writes, in response to Amy Kaplan’s introduction to Cultures of United States Imperialism, Chicano Studies has indeed often situated Chicano history within the context of Anlgo-European global conquest; however, those acts of location have been marked by contestation, qualification and self-critique. 40 She reminds the readers that “there has been complicity between official U.S. government institutions and elites classes of people of color,” pointing to “nineteenth-century land-owning Mexican Americans in New Mexico and South Texas,” 41 Yet use of the term ‘postcolonial’ would seem to imply that the colonial moment has ended, that Chicano/as were colonized in the past but are no longer, that “the fight is over and the oppressers won.” 42 The type colonialism experienced by Chicano/as is one described by some as “internal 40 Laura Romero, "Nationalism and Internationalism: Domestic Differences in a Postcolonial World," American Literature 67.4 (1995). (797) 41 Romero, "Nationalism and Internationalism: Domestic Differences in a Postcolonial World." (800) 42 Romero, "Nationalism and Internationalism: Domestic Differences in a Postcolonial World." (798) 27 colonialism” 43 - one defined as a “form of colonialism in which the dominant and subordinate populations are intermingled so there is no geographically distinct ‘metropolis’ separate from the ‘colony.’ 44 While there is a tradition in Chicano studies of viewing Chicano history through the lens of colonialism, 45 there are difficulties in doing so -- in addition to the elision of the issue of immigration and problems of class conflict. 46 Romero argues for a model of Chicano/a studies as having an “alignment” with postcolonialism because it acknowledges the contested position of Chicano/a studies relative to Latin American Studies. 47 43 Mario Barrera, Race and Class in the Southwest : A Theory of Racial Inequality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1979). (190) 44 Barrera, Race and Class in the Southwest : A Theory of Racial Inequality. (194) 45 Rodolfo Acuña, Occupied America : A History of Chicanos, 5th ed. (New York, NY: Pearson Longman, 2004). 46 Gilbert G. González and Raul Fernandez, "Chicano History: Transcending Cultural Models," The Pacific Historical Revidw 63.4 (1994). 47 Romero, "Nationalism and Internationalism: Domestic Differences in a Postcolonial World." (797) 28 Harlow’s theory and works examine the writing of political poetry as revolutionary and resistance output. She looks at Central American and South African resistance movements, pointing out commonalities between them and their differences with western poetry of the same period. Their writings and poetry exist outside of the western romantic movements or notions of poetry as art. She presents an image of Pablo Neruda himself and his work as a “body divided” 48 by political and social conflict. While there are key differences between Latin American and Transcendentalist writing, Neruda’s language of division evokes the image of Margaret Fuller’s work upon her death being split and divided, edited and censored by the men who (in the literary sense) owned her literary body. 49 It also speaks to Gloria Anzaldúa’s borderland theory of the divided mestiza 48 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (73) 49 Paula Blanchard, Margaret Fuller: From Transcendentalism to Revolution, Radcliffe Biography Series (Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, 1987). (339) 29 body. 50 The border itself becomes the site of transnational splits, ones which, as Hortense J. Spillers reminds readers, “cuts both ways.” 51 According to Harlow, a resistance writer / narrator presents a politicized interpretation of events -- they are “a writer who is involved” -- a contrast to the artist who creates art for arts sake. 52 Narrative format, in her opinion, provides a more developed historical analysis than poetry can offer. Making use of Fredric Jameson’s definition of the novel form as itself a sort of “master narrative,” Harlow writes The use by Third World resistance writers of the novel form as it has developed within the western literary tradition both appropriates and challenges the historical and historicizing presuppositions, the narrative conclusions, implicated within the western tradition and its development. [...]The resistance novels seek different historical endings and these endings are already implicit, 50 Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza (San Fransisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1987). (77-80) 51 Hortense J. Spillers, Comparative American Identities : Race, Sex, and Nationality in the Modern Text (New York: Routledge, 1991). (16) 52 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (77-78) 30 contained within the narrative analysis and construction of the conditions. 53 She then quotes Bakhtin as saying, that narrative is less utopian than poetry, but can also be more concrete. 54 Harlow opines that resistance narratives “go further” than poetry, not only by attacking the symbolic, but offering analysis of the basis of power, recording history against the official text of power. Harlow’s theory, which both claims that there is a connection between knowledge and power, and offers an awareness of exploitation by interests in power to create a distorted history, is central to a reading of resistance narratives. Resistance narratives are histories which can be written outside of the institutions of official history. This harkens to Homi Bhabha’s theory of post-colonial narrative as an expression of “art as the fully realized presence of a haunting of history.” 55 Resistance texts, can, therefore, become 53 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (78-79) 54 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (81-82) 55 Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of Culture (London, UK: Routledge, 1994). (12) 31 immediate interventions in and subversions of official historical record. 56 Harlow discusses the cost of writing within the context of a liberation struggle or a resistance movement -- specifically the risk and reality of assassination and imprisonment. The authors she examines paid the cost of writing resistance in the form of imprisonment or death, while at the same time imprisonment itself became for them a source of writing. Harlow’s theory of resistance writing also discusses prison writing in relation to other forms of autobiography. For Harlow, the state / colonizer is the entity responsible for imprisonment and torture -- neither is merely sadism by isolated individuals. Prison memoirs engage and challenge the system, whereas the systemic control of reading and writing gives literature more power. Oppression and its resistance feeds the “power of writing,” giving it the ability to “alter relationships with power.” 57 Here Harlow makes a connection for women revolutionaries, 56 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (116) 57 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (133) 32 between struggle for political liberation and feminist struggle against patriarchy. The study of resistance literature reveals the discord between the reality of post-revolution / post-colonial societies and their utopian aspirations. Resistance / New Mestiza We must insist on what we remember to be true. History precludes false loyalties to the conqueror nation-state and prescribes renewed loyalty to the work of a reconstituted America. - Toni Cade Bambara 58 Building on Harlow’s theories of resistance literature, Sonia Saldívar-Hull (herself one of Harlow’s graduate students) uses notions of resistance and hegemony to discuss Chicana feminism in a geopolitical context. Her perspective is useful in negotiating the dialectic space between theories of individual dissent and colonial and 58 Quotation taken from Cherrie Moraga’s newly included foreword. -- Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, Women of Color Series, Expanded 3rd ed. (Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 2002). (xxiv) 33 post-colonial theories of political resistance. 59 She builds on Gloria Anzaldua’s theory of the New Mestiza qualifier as a form of resistance literature in that it re-writes the history of the United States southwest onto her specific Chicana body. Saldívar-Hull reads Anzaldua’s “New Mestiza” theory as it challenges the dualisms that underpin the power structure of the United States... the multiple consciousness of feminists whose gender politics are lived simultaneously with race, class and sexual awareness. 60 She sees this as a utopian vision, one which builds and expands Du Bois’ concept of the dual consciousness of African Americans into one that can encompass the multiple positionalities of the Chicana author. Saldívar-Hull argues that Anzaldúa’s idea of resistance is limited by, but at the same time is dependent on what is being reacted to. The New Mestiza resistance is a form of simultaneous hegemony and counter-hegemony. 59 Sonia Saldívar-Hull, Feminism on the Border: Chicana Gender Politics and Literature (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2000). 60 Ibid. (61) 34 Discussing the position of Chicano/a literature in relation to American history, Ramón Saldívar writes that Chicano literature constitutes a [...] body of texts that have been produced in response to this history [which] constitutes the Chicano resistance to the cultural hegemony of of dominant Anglo-American civil society. [...] The literary texts that we deal with here position themselves against both the overt and the indirect components of social power. 61 Jose David Saldívar writes about Chicano intellectual, anthropologist, poet and novelist Americo Paredes, whom Saldívar places among a class he names the “decolonialists” that [w]ithout a doubt the theme of liberation emerges in this volume, a strong theme that is already present in the work of Paredes’s inter-American contemporaries such as Langston Hughes, Aimé Césaire, Nicolás Guillén, and Luisa Spinal. This modernist resistance literature, of course, developed quite consciously out of a desire to distance the “native” intellectual from the European and (more recently) the Anglo-American master. 62 61 Ramón Saldívar, Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Difference (Madison, WI: The University of Wisconson Press, 1990). (24) 62 José David Saldívar, Border Matters : Remapping American Cultural Studies (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997). (53) 35 Yet, as Saldívar-Hull’s writing demonstrates, this line between Harlow’s definition of a historically-specific resistance literature, and Chicano/a literature, which José Saldívar, Ramón Saldívar and Sonia Saldívar-Hull unquestionably draw, cannot be so easily or clearly seen or written. Harlow’s vision of resistance literature is one which assumes that literary / historical resistance exists in concert with a (frequently armed) geopolitical struggle against colonial oppression, as it “emerged significantly from national liberation struggles and resistance movements” 63 -- in short, it is a literature which supports political revolution rather than political resistance or reformation. Harlow’s revolutionary situation was / is largely not the case with the production of Chicano/a literature or art, except in some rare cases. Rather than conquest moving toward the dialectic of revolution, the situation of the Mexican-American or Chicano/a author is one of dispossession and resistance to erasure. By the time the Californio authors were writing in the nineteenth century, Mexico had already been defeated and had signed the Southwest over to the United 63 Harlow, Resistance Literature. (xvii) 36 States. Writers like nineteenth century Californio novelist Maria Amparo Rúiz de Burton 64 were writing against history and in resistance to their social and cultural erasure. However, their intention was not to overthrow the United States, despite her novel’s nostalgia for colonial Spain and Mexico; rather, authors like Rúiz de Burton wrote in resistance to their own annihilation by Anglo culture. Ironically, as their ability to record and disseminate their own histories was limited, they recorded their cultural history in fiction. Likewise, the Chicano/a social and political movement(s) of the 1960s were largely concerned with resisting Anglo culture and extending civil rights, and were not -- except in a few exceptional cases -- concerned with a direct overthrow of the United States government. If post-colonial literature relates to resistance literature (which, according to Harlow, Said, Bhabha among other post-colonialists, it does) then resistance literature also represents its respective nation, 64 Author of two early Chicana novels in English: María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It?, Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication, eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita (Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1995). and María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, The Squatter and the Don, eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita, 2nd ed. (Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1997). 37 and how the writing functions as resistance against the colonial power. Fiction has a power to universalize experience as readers identify with the character and narrative experience. Resistance literature, including Chicano/a texts, attempts to write a social or political history without access to, and / or against the grain of, the colonial establishment. By doing this, post-colonial literature fills in the void left in the colonial story, performing what Homi Bhabha calls “the haunting of history.” 65 This can relate to issues of “anthology,” relative to resistance / post-colonial / marginal literature as colonized or postcolonial voices are collected together to form a single text. In these cases, frequently resistance literature may offer alternative endings to those of the official historical, colonial narrative. Edward Said argues that post-colonialism needs the dynamic between itself and its colonizers in order to define the colonized / postcolonial existence [t]he Orient is an integral part of European material civilization and culture. Orientalism expresses and represents that part culturally and even ideologically as a 65 Bhabha, The Location of Culture. (12) 38 mode of discourse with supporting institution, vocabulary, scholarship, imagery, doctrines, even colonial bureaucracies and colonial styles. 66 Said’s discussion speaks to the issue of intellectual as well as social and political domination and literature’s ability to resist it. Does post- colonialism’s social and cultural resistance to the colonizer constitute resistance theory even in the absence of any political revolution or organized resistance movement? Postcolonial theory, with its study of more subtle forms of resistance, including Homi Bhabha’s discussion of mimicry colonial mimicry is the desire for a reformed, recognizable Other, as a subject of a difference that is almost the same, but not quite. 67 and its role in postcolonial resistance by producing and reproducing “slippage” and uncertainty, a process he argues is ultimately “profound and disturbing.” 66 Edward W. Said, Orientalism (New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1994). (2) 67 Bhabha, The Location of Culture. (85) 39 Utopia Light and Dark: Chicano/a Nationalism Nationalism is not the awakening of nations to self-consciousness: it invents nations where they do not exist -- but it does need some pre-existing differentiating marks to work on, even if, as indicated, these are purely negative. 68 [T]hat all the rights of Californians should ultimately be respected was, indeed, in the view of our rapacious Anglo-Saxon land- hunger, and of our national bigotry in dealing with Spanish-Americans, impossible. 69 The issue of Chicano nationalism presents an interesting paradox. On the one hand, nationalist decolonizing 70 and its attendant essentialism are, in Frantz Fanon’s words “always a violent phenomenon” -- often reflecting and re-enacting the very violence of 68 Ernest Gellner, Thought and Change (London, UK: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1964). (168) 69 Josiah Royce, Studies of Good and Evil; a Series of Essays Upon Problems of Philosophy and Life (New York,: D. Appleton and company, 1899). (310) 70 Here I am relying upon Rudolpho Acuña’s definition of Chicanos as an “occupied” or colonized (sub)culture within the United States to justify the application of post-colonial theory. 40 the colonial experience. 71 The bar becomes set and members must prove they are loyal to the “nation” or movement in a “with us or against us” dichotomy and difference is treated with hostility. Fear of dictatorship or fascism makes it difficult to discuss essentialism and essentialized nationalism as anything other than negative, while nationalist movements are, as Seamus Deane wrote, “driven by an ambition to realize their intrinsic essence.” 72 On the other hand, to discard the unifying power of nationalism denies the colonial movement the power necessary to overthrow the colonizer as the colonizer nation benefits from powerful imperial nationalism. As Benedict Anderson points out, “since World War II every successful revolution has defined itself in nationalist terms.” 73 For a colonized 71 Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, First Evergreen ed. (New York, NY: Grove Weidenfeld, 1991). (35) 72 From Deane's introduction: Terry Eagleton, Fredric Jameson and Edward W. Said, Nationalism, Colonialism, and Literature (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press / A Field Day Company Book, 1990). (3) 73 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities (London: Verso, 1983). (2) 41 people to give up nationalism too soon is to “play straight into the hands of the oppressor” (Eagleton 23). 74 Gayatri Spivak and the Subaltern Studies Collective attempt to resolve this nationalist paradox through the construction of a legal fiction, 75 that notion which is known to be false, but is deemed useful and therefore treated as if true, or theory of strategic essentialism, the “strategic use of positivist essentialism in a scrupulously visible political interest” (Spivak 205). Arguably, Spivak’s theory would allow for the creation of a community which mimics the strategic guise of nation without falling into the exclusionary traps of nationalism. Yet the difficulty presented by this model is the necessity of maintaining a consciousness of the nationalist / essentialist’s imagined nature and qualities, that is, the awareness of false consciousness. It is difficult to imagine uniting a revolution around an admitted fiction, however useful it may be. 74 Eagleton, Jameson and Said, Nationalism, Colonialism, and Literature. (30) 75 Although the term “legal fiction” is traditionally used regarding legal matters, its definition seems helpful in discussing Spivak’s theory. 42 Marcial González, in his text Chicano Novels and the Politics of Form, reads Chicano/a novels as expressions of the multiple dialectic contradictions of the Chicano/a positions. González discusses the positions in which Chicanos exist simultaneously, both inside and outside United States politics and culture. 76 As is the case with Ramón Saldvíar’s earlier work Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Differenece, 77 the dialectics of the Chicano/a position which González mentions are race, gender and class. 78 As a Marxist critic, González is most concerned with issues of class in the Chicano/a novel and devotes much of his discussion to them. The other parts of Chicano dialectic positions are overshadowed or overwhelmed, especially in the case of gender. However useful class may be in analyzing the position of the Chicano/a artist and writer, there must be an ability, as Fredric 76 Marcial González, Chicano Novels and the Politics of Form: Race, Class and Reification, Class: Culture, ed. Amy Schrager Lang and Bill V. Mullen (Ann Arbor, MI: The University of Michigan Press, 2009). 77 Ramon. Saldivar, Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Difference. (Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1990). 78 Sexuality, to the extent that it is included, is subsumed under gender. 43 Jameson notes, to unify a movement in a way that class alone cannot. 79 By combining González’s and Saldívar’s dialectic constructions with the work of Chela Saldoval (whom González doesn't cite) on differential consciousness as a form of resistance by women of color in her Methodology of the Oppressed, 80 the discussion of Chicano/a resistance literature can be viewed in a more complete fashion, one which allows the dialectic views to shift as resistance requires. Using the lens of Fredric Jameson creates though his notion of forms of resistance and oppositional consciousness in social movements, 81 differential consciousness and dialectic theory can be combined. Dialectic theory combined with differential consciousness produces a way of discussing Chicana texts as resistance literature in 79 Jameson wrote specifically that “a Left which cannot grasp the immense utopian appeal of nationalism (any more than it can grasp that of religion or fascism) can scarcely hope to “reappropriate” such collective energies and must doom itself to political impotence.” Fredric Jameson, The Political Unconscious: Narrative as a Socially Symbolic Act (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1981). (298) 80 Chela Sandoval, Methodology of the Oppressed (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2000). 81 Fredric Jameson, Postmodernism: Or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism, Post-Contemporary Interventions, vol. 438 (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1991). 44 a context that is inside the notion of the American nation while at the same time being outside the mono-vision of the Jeremiad. American Transcendentalism and the Chicano/a movements of the 1960s and 1970s shared a utopian vision of a North American space as a nation recreated, not by force, but by changes in society and culture via ideas and labor. This is not to say that Chicano literature wasn’t written prior to the 1960s, any more than it is to say that American literature was only written after Emerson’s Phi Beta Kappa address. But both movements were self-aware and recognized the idea of an art, literature and philosophy which would belong to their own “nations.” By this definition, America became a nation at the moment it was imagined and articulated to be one. As the Harvard students listened to Emerson’s Phi Beta Kappa address, they saw themselves as individually part of a whole community with a distinct yet common (and perhaps divine) vision. The ideas of these movements were at once counter to the United States culture (especially its capitalist elements) of their times, while also ultimately very much in keeping with the classically American vision of the community as an example to others, perfectly 45 in step with the image America has of itself as “the city on the hill.” The connections to be made between the two movements are mostly ones of analogy, but both the Chicano/a and Transcendentalist movements offer examples of social and political communities self- consciously emerging as textual ones in the interest of making radical changes to American life and culture. In both cases, newspapers and journals were used not only to support the movement financially, but as a means to unite diffuse communities across geographic distances. The publications of both movements were communities which were, to a degree, bound together by their texts. The textual community created via the Chicana anthology is created as imagined communities -- that is, the authors become a community as they imagine their own connection (whether or not they have face-to-face connection). Through their resistance to European (and specifically British) cultural production, and to the status quo -- especially on the treatment of Native Americans and slavery -- many nineteenth century artists and writers associated with the Transcendentalist movement envisioned a utopian America where a “nation of men will for the first 46 time exist, because each believes himself inspired by the Divine Soul.” 82 Using strikingly similar language, speaking out against a monolingual, black and white 1960s America, a group of young Chicano/as brought forth El Plan de Aztlán, a manifesto which was drafted in March of 1969 at the Denver Chicano Youth Conference. Here, the Chicano nation, imagined as a political community existing within the United States, ...sets the theme that the Chicanos (La Raza de Bronce) must use their nationalism as the key or common denominator for mass mobilization and organization. 83 and which claims a new utopian brotherhood with the words ...With our heart in our hands and our hands in the soil, we declare the independence of our mestizo nation. We are a bronze people with a bronze culture. Before the world, before all of North America, before all our brothers in the bronze continent, we are a nation, we are a union of free pueblos, we are Aztlán. 84 82 Ralph Waldo Emerson, Margaret Fuller and John Carlos Rowe, Selected Works : Essays, Poems, and Dispatches with Introduction, New Riverside Editions (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2003). 83 Documents of the Chicano Struggle, (New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971). 84 Documents of the Chicano Struggle. 47 Similar to Emerson’s vision of a new American nation created by a Transcendental shift in consciousness, but influenced by and closer to the Gramscian notion of changing intellectual consciousness preceding historical and revolutionary change, the Chicano/a Movement’s utopian Aztlán “counter-nation” 85 was created the moment the words defining its creation were written and disseminated. The speech was both an act of creation and reclaimation. In Chicano/a literature, the nationalist movement is given space and form via visions of Aztlán. The nationalism of Aztlán was a utopian idea, a dream of a revolutionary Chicano nation. The vision of Aztlán was immediately a powerful unifier and became a staple image in the Movement -- creating a notion of Chicanos as Chicanos first, expressed by the slogan “¡Mi raza primero!” 86 As is generally the case with nationalisms, Aztlán creates a utopian vision of hope, giving Chicano/as a common vision. At the same time, the insider / 85 I use the term “counter-nation” to denote how important resistance to the mainstream U.S. culture, politics and nation was / is to the Chicano/a movement and the vision of Aztlán. 86 Pathfinder Press., Documents of the Chicano Struggle ([New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971). 48 outsider binary that is nationalism’s other side, both causes fragmentation and, when seen from the perspective of those excluded, can be twisted to feed alternative white nationalist despotic terror. Nationalist Utopia: Aztlán mYthical land wherefrom the AZTECS CAME la TIERRA dE AztlaN mYthical land for those who dream of roses and swallow thorns or for those who swallow thorns in powdered milk feeling guilty about smelling flowers 87 Transcendentalist utopian communities were a small but significant part of the Transcendental movement in the United States. The movement was, after all, marked partly by its idealism and willingness to experiment with novel social structures. This section will discuss the echoes across the larger society and movement of 87 Alurista, "Poem in Lieu of a Preface," Aztlán 1.1 (1970). (ix). 49 social communal experiments such as Brook Farm 88 and Fruitlands. 89 Our sources of knowledge about each communities project come from each community’s own journals, Harriet O’Brien’s Lost Utopias, 90 and Louisa May Alcott’s childhood (annotated by her in adulthood) Fruitland Diaries, 91 partly fictionalized as Transcendental Wild Oats. In addition to the founding of utopian communities, the movement idealized nature and the Native Americans, and these idealizations contributed toward a North American vision of utopia. A primary connection between Transcendentalism and the Chicano/a movement of the 1960s and 1970s was the desire to 88 Brook Farm was created as a utopian (and ultimately Fourierist) community by Transcendentalists George and Sophia Ripley. The experiment lasted from 1841 to 1847. It was based on an idealistic belief in balancing life between labor, leisure and intellectual pursuits, with all labor (that done by women as well as men) paid equally. 89 An even more radical experiment than Brook Farm, Fruitland was an experiment by Bronson Alcott in 1843. 90 Harriet Ellen O'Brien, Lost Utopias: A Brief Description of Three Quests for Happiness, Alcott's Fruitlands, Old Shaker House, and American Indian Museum, Rescued from Oblivion (Boston, MA: P. Walton Publishers, 1929). 91 Louisa May Alcott, Transcendental Wild Oats & Excerpts from the Fruitlands Diaries (Boston, MA: The Harvard Common Press, 1981). 50 create a national literature reflecting their philosophies and cultures. Both movements were self-aware and recognized the idea of an art, literature and philosophy which would belong to their own “nations” distinct from either European in the case of the Transcendentalists, or mainstream (white) American in the case of Chicano writers and publishers. Benedict Anderson writes that a nation is an imagined community of people who “will never know most of its fellow- members, meet them or even hear from them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of of their communions.” 92 America became a nation by this definition at the moment it was imagined and articulated to be one. Likewise, when “El Plan Espiritual de Aztlán” was drafted in March of 1969 at the Denver Chicano Youth Conference, the Chicano nation was imagined as both a cultural and political community existing within the United States. It is in this context of the idea of “¡Mi raza primero!” / “my race first” nationalism within the Chicano movement, which Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez wrote in 1971, “Soy 92 Anderson, Imagined Communities. (6) 51 Chicana Primero,” --- “I am Chicana first.” 93 In doing so, she anticipates Cherrie Moraga and Gloria Anzaldua’s This Bridge Called My Back. 94 Yet by embracing a racial / ethnic identity that places la raza above her gender, Vasquez subsumes the gender dialectic beneath the racial one. Likewise, “El Plan de Aztlán,” speaks in the male voice to the male audience. Women are included, if indeed they are included, under the universal collective masculine. Yet even so, because of Spanish linguistic construction, in writing “Soy Chicana Primero,” the “a” is not universalized beyond the feminine while, at the same time, the feminine only identifies as part of a Chicana/o whole, rather than with the more universal “woman” or ”feminist.” The examination of a theory of community within Chicana feminism requires a reading of “community” in different ways. First Benedict Anderson’s notion of nations as “imagined communities” is relevant to the nationalist Chicano history of Aztlán. The history of 93 Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "Soy Chicana Primero," El Cuaderno 1.1 (1971). 94 Gloria and Cherríe Moraga Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (New York, NY: Kitchen Table / Women of Color Press, 1981). 52 the Chicano Aztlán is also very reflective of Frantz Fanon's notion (see The Wretched of the Earth 95 ) of the power nationalism holds within the collective and individual imagination for the reinvention of colonial and postcolonial social movements. My reading of the Chicano movement specifically in Los Angeles, is of a movement conscious of its Marxist class, as well as nationalist goals. Thus, an examination of the movement should be informed by a history of Aztlán as an imagined discursive political space -- the point where class- and race-based revolution are unified. In this sense, Aztlán exists as an imagined nationalism, born more of poetic vision than practical revolutionary reality -- more ideal utopia than actual nation. For the Chicano/a activists of the 1960s and 1970s, Aztlán existed discursively yet represented a re-imagined physical geography and a revised historical timeline. Communities relate to social constructions of race and class (Marx and Fanon), making Ramon Saldívar’s reading of Chicano narrative as "simultaneously struggling for unity while opposing exclusion" 95 Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (New York, NY: Grove Press, 1963). 53 especially relevant. Though one might also say that, in reading Moraga, the struggle for unity is a struggle against her own exclusion -- by family, by feminism (white lesbian community), and by Chicano/as. Examining the dialectical notions of community and revolutionary transformation, the question becomes, how did the nationalism of the 1960-70s Chicano Movement communities, themselves often ascribing to both nationalist and Marxist beliefs and associated textual communities, evolve by the 1980s to produce the writings of Gloria Anzáldua, Cherríe Moraga and others? The short answer, in readings from Chicana writing in the 1970s, is that it didn’t. Rather, Chicana sexuality was, by some accounts, abused by the same sort of male leadership found in other organizations of the New Left 96 . These authors, each focused on the subjectivity of the female body as itself a site of female sexual desire, combine 96 An attitude most famously demonstrated in the 1960s New Left group, Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), by Stokey Carmichael’s comment, when faced with complaints about the male leadership by the organization’s women, that "The only position for women in SNCC is prone." 54 individualism (as authors and artists) 97 with social movement collectivism (in their editorial roles). 98 In the Chicano Movement of the 1970s, the term “lesbian” was most likely to be used as an accusation made by Chicanos against those Chicanas who favored anything deemed “feminist,” and therefore “white.” Yet in retrospect, this repression of the feminist, of female and of queer sexuality made Moraga’s and Anzáldua’s works inevitable. The repression of individual desire forced the creation of new textual communities by those who felt silenced and excluded by the larger Chicano movement. These Chicana writers then made visible the movement’s contradictions and flaws and, ultimately, as Sandra Cisneros writes in the anthology Chicana Lesbians, made the word “lesbian” a symbol which represented the claiming of any female 97 See: Cherríe Moraga, Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios (Boston, MA: Southe End Press, 1983). and Anzaldúa, Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza. 98 Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. 55 sexuality, whatever one’s sexual preference might actually be. Lesbian became for Chicanas an expression of female subjectivity. 99 Textual Community La boca spreads its legs open to talk, open to attack. “I am a lesbian. And I am Chicana.” I say this to men and women at the conference. I watch their faces twist up on me. “These are two inseparable facts of my life. I can’t write or talk about one without the other. 100 However important the position of Chicano/a resistance and nationalism are, this project’s central focus will be to offer an intellectual and cultural history of Chicana writing and editorship within anthologies and early journals read as themselves textual communities. Structurally, my use of the term textual community makes use of Gramsci’s theories on the position of the organic intellectual and his or her role as an agent of social change, with the 99 Carla Trujillo, Chicana Lesbians: The Girls Our Mothers Warned Us About (Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 1991). 100 Moraga, Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios. (142) 56 dialectic positioning of an author / editor serving as simultaneous writer / reader. This section will attempt to narrow this broader scope to a discussion of theories of editorship, as well as offering a theory of journals and anthologies as textual communities within these movements for social change, ultimately focusing on minority discourse by Chicanas as they came to control their own cultural production via their own journals and anthologies. The reinvention and re-visioning of American society and culture via the example set by a community founded on social ideas is countercultural to American individualistic values, while at the same time participating in the larger traditions of America as a locus of spiritual and cultural renewal. This paradox is embodied in the historiography and intellectual history of the Transcendentalist movement, as Transcendentalist studies has focused on the philosophies of individualism as being the center of Transcendentalism, while the communitarianism (often discussed and founded by the same writers) has been marginalized as utopian 57 experimentation. 101 By the same token, the individualism and land- grant based nationalism of Reies López Tijerina cannot be fit neatly within the utopian communitarian vision of Aztlán, accounting in part for his being marginalized in Chicano/a historiography. 102 Both the Transcendentalist and Chicano movements questioned assumptions about American culture and social traditions, rending the patriarchal social fabric of their times. Finally, both movements questioned the de-humanization of capitalism, against the place of humanity in the natural world. Descended from the Puritans’ jeremiad tradition, the Transcendentalist and Chicano/a movements saw within their respective utopias space for their idealism and ideas for the nation’s ongoing renewal. 103 There are additional links to be made between the “new consciousness” of the Transcendentalists in the nineteenth 101 Lance Newman, "Thoreau's Natural Community and Utopian Socialism," American Literature 75.3 (2003). (517) 102 Lee Bebout, "Hero Making in El Movimiento: Reies López Tijerina and the Chicano Nationalist Imaginary," Aztlán: A Journal of Chicano Studies 32.12 (2007). 103 Bercovitch, The American Jeremiad. (176) 58 century and the cultural changes in America in the 1960s and their reverberations throughout the subsequent decades. These changes transformed the culture across forms of expression: social, religious, artistic and political. In both cases, the changes were so pervasive that in American cultural studies, to refer to the terms “Transcendentalist” or “the 60s” is to encompass all that was different, new or radical in their respective periods. A further commonality between the Transcendentalists and the Chicano movement is the universality of male perspective. In Emerson’s Phi Beta Kappa speech, the universal “we” is part of the “nation of men,” and the best women can hope for is that they are implicitly included. In both the Transcendentalist and Chicano movements, women served a dual and liminal role. They supported the movements with their labor. Women such as Margaret Fuller and Elizabeth Martinez were editors of key movement journals. Women also supported their movements’ social organizations, taking part in and leading political groups (against slavery and the Vietnam War). They contributed creatively to cultural productions as writers and 59 artists, while at the same time pushing their respective movements toward women’s rights and feminism. Writers can write what they like. But their ability to be read and published affects the content of their writings. Chicana writers who wrote in the 1970s were all but invisible to traditional academic and commercial presses, as well as within some of the Chicano presses, resulting in their creation of their own avenues for publication. Audience also affects what writers write -- perhaps for Chicano authors most of all. As Manuel M. Martín-Rodríguez writes, a work of literature has no existence beyond the materiality of its physical components without a reader or a group of readers who would respond to, interact with, and make their own the precise formal arrangement of materials that a text or a book offers them. 104 In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Chicanas were published by and anthologized in texts edited by Chicano writers, such as Alurista and Luis Valdez, and Anglo feminists editors, like Robin Morgan. Their readers, while some were Chicana, were an audience of Chicano 104 Manuel M. Martín-Rodríguez, Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature, 1st ed. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003). 60 readers on the one hand, and largely white feminists on the other. By the 1980s, Chicanas had become the editors / anthologizers of themselves, performing the “double task of both engendering and gendering audience,” 105 and by doing this setting themselves up as editorial authorities over these Chicana collective productions. 106 While Aztlán largely existed discursively, its unifying vision represented a re-imagined physical geography, allowing Chicano/a communities to relate to each other across race and class. However, in reading Moraga, the struggle for unity is also always an individual struggle against her own exclusion. Yet this struggle for inclusion becomes itself a creative space, a creative lesbian energy described by Adrienne Rich as ...the lesbian in us who drives us to feel imaginatively, render in language, grasp, the full connection between woman and woman. It is the lesbian in us who is 105 Martín-Rodríguez, Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature. (71) 106 Chicanas were frequently the editors who kept the Chicano journals up and running, and provided much of the (wo)man power behind a number of the early publications (see: El Malcriado, El Plan de Santa Barbara, El Espejo, La Luz, El Grito del Norte, Aztlán). 61 creative, for the dutiful daughter of the fathers in us is only a hack. 107 while at the same time, the lesbian” is “invested with evil” by the larger society. The re-invention of Aztlán as a “queered” space by Chicana feminists in the 1980s and 1990s may be read as resistance to and splitting with the more negative and exclusionary aspects of Chicano nationalism. At the same time, there are clear differences between the Transcendentalist and Chicano/a movements, class and period being the most obvious. The Chicano/a movement, a product of the mid- to-late twentieth century, was informed by 1960s United States youth and liberation movements, as well as an internationalist Marxist politic, linking cultural and social change to a class-based (as well as race- based) political movement. Conversely, the American Transcendentalists’ communities, while also participating in international intellectual and social movements, were informed by mid- nineteenth century social and religious movements concerned with 107 Adrienne Rich, On Lies, Secrets, and Silence: Selected Prose 1966- 1978 (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1995). 62 social change via personal conversion, largely (though not completely) absent a Marxist notion of the ideologies of class relationships. 108 However, like the Marxist elements of the Chicano movement, the American Transcendentalists were international in scope and publication. The two also differed in region and language. The Chicano/a movement was located mostly in the Southwest, and celebrated Spanish as well as English texts, while the Transcendentalists were centered in the Northeast and celebrated the creation of an “American” language and literature. What Transcendentalism and the Chicano/a movement of the 1960s and 1970s have in common is that they were revolutions of idealism, where transformations of ideas were seen as the means of overturning existing social structures of North American culture -- an idealism frequently less practical than utopian. 108 The sort of pre-Marxist socialism practiced by the Transcendentalist communities such as Brook Farm is referred to by some as “American utopian socialism.” [Carl Guarneri, The Utopian Alternative : Fourierism in Nineteenth-Century America (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1991).] Yet more recent scholarship, including the works by Lance Newman, have demonstrated more awareness by Transcendentalists of class and their connection to nineteenth century workers movements. 63 The weakening of political voices as they become part of the nation’s canon has frequently been the case with resistance literature; indeed, as Lance Newman points out, it can be seen in the Transcendentalist authors themselves. 109 It has been in part caused by futile attempts to separate the authors’ art from their politics, resulting in the works losing their context. As Newman points out, the very definition of U.S. Transcendentalism was drawn by literary historians, beginning in the 1880s, focusing on Kantian individualism to the exclusion of the movement’s more socialist and communitarian philosophies [t]here is a way of talking about New England Transcendentalists that takes solitary departure as the their most representative trajectory... The idea that the Transcendentalist movement was unified rests on a tenacious set of mutually reinforcing assumptions about the movement. Emerson is the major Transcendentalist. Transcendentalism is a philosophy of individualism. Individualism is the ground of American thought. American thought begins with Emerson. Emerson is the major Transcendentalist. 110 109 Newman, "Thoreau's Natural Community and Utopian Socialism." 110 Lance Newman, Our Common Dwelling: Henry Thoreau, Transcendentalism, and the Class Politics of Nature, 1st ed. (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005). 64 As I write this text, connecting Chicana radical feminism, American Studies and Transcendentalism, the words of Cherrie Moraga in her work The Last Generation echo through my head: “Art that subscribes to integration into mainstream Amerika is not Chicano Art.” 111 Much as I admire Moraga’s work, this quote and the sentiment behind it produces a great deal of anxiety, especially to one looking to connect the Chicano/a movements to Transcendentalism, a movement generally perceived as both white and middle-class. Yet this project is not an attempt to integrate the Chicano Movement into a whitebread America. Rather, my intent is to argue that in its resistance to mainstream American values, the Chicano/a Movement of the late twentieth century was in the tradition of earlier radical movements in North America, at least as much as it was in the tradition of the Latin American poet revolutionaries. This argument will offer perspective on Chicano/a literature as being in the tradition of other North American literary movements, while it also participates in the project of reexamining the 111 Moraga, The Last Generation. (60-61) 65 radicalism and resistance of United States Transcendentalist writers and their texts. My dissertation intends to read Chicana feminist writings from the 1960s through the early 1980s as part of a larger tradition of resistance literature in the United States. 66 Chapter 1: Bibliography Acuña, Rodolfo. Occupied America : A History of Chicanos. 5th ed. New York, NY: Pearson Longman, 2004. Alcott, Louisa May. Transcendental Wild Oats & Excerpts from the Fruitlands Diaries. Boston, MA: The Harvard Common Press, 1981. Alurista. "Poem in Lieu of a Preface." Aztlán 1.1 (1970): ix. Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities. London: Verso, 1983. Anzaldúa, Gloria. Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza. San Fransisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1987. Anzaldúa, Gloria and Cherríe Moraga, ed. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. New York, NY: Kitchen Table / Women of Color Press, 1981. Barrera, Mario. Race and Class in the Southwest : A Theory of Racial Inequality. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1979. Bebout, Lee. "Hero Making in El Movimiento: Reies López Tijerina and the Chicano Nationalist Imaginary." Aztlán: A Journal of Chicano Studies 32.12 (2007): 93-121. Bercovitch, Sacvan. The American Jeremiad. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1978. Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. London, UK: Routledge, 1994. 67 Blanchard, Paula. Margaret Fuller: From Transcendentalism to Revolution. Radcliffe Biography Series. Reading, MA: Addison- Wesley Publishing Company, 1987. Chabram-Dernersesian, Angie. "And, Yes... The Earth Did Part: On the Splitting of Chicana/O Subjectivity." Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies. Ed. Beatriz M. Pesquera Adela de la Torre. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1993. 246. Documents of the Chicano Struggle. New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971. Douglass, Frederick. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. The Oxford Frederick Douglass Reader. Ed. William L. Andrews. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 1996. Eagleton, Terry, Fredric Jameson, and Edward W. Said. Nationalism, Colonialism, and Literature. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press / A Field Day Company Book, 1990. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, Margaret Fuller, and John Carlos Rowe. Selected Works : Essays, Poems, and Dispatches with Introduction. New Riverside Editions. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2003. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, Len Gougeon, and Joel Myerson. Emerson's Antislavery Writings. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995. Esch, Betsy, and Nancy Coffin. "On Literature and Resistance". Detroit, MI, 1997. Interview. 11 September 2009. <http://www.solidarity- us.org/node/1835>. Fanon, Frantz. The Wretched of the Earth. New York, NY: Grove Press, 1963. ---. The Wretched of the Earth. First Evergreen ed. New York, NY: Grove Weidenfeld, 1991. 68 Fox, Richard Gabriel, and Orin Starn. Between Resistance and Revolution : Cultural Politics and Social Protest. New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 1997. ---. Between Resistance and Revolution: Cultural Politics and Social Protest. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1997. Gandhi, and Narayan Shriman. The Selected Works of Mahatma Gandhi. Ahmedabad, India: Navajivan Publishing House, 1968. Gaspar de Alba, Alicia. Chicano Art inside/Outside the Master's House: Cultural Politics and the Cara Exhibition. 1st ed. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press, 1998. Gellner, Ernest. Thought and Change. London, UK: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1964. González, Gilbert G. , and Raul Fernandez. "Chicano History: Transcending Cultural Models." The Pacific Historical Revidw 63.4 (1994): 469-497. González, Marcial. Chicano Novels and the Politics of Form: Race, Class and Reification. Class: Culture. Ed. Amy Schrager Lang and Bill V. Mullen. Ann Arbor, MI: The University of Michigan Press, 2009. Greenfeld, Liah. Nationalism and the Mind : Essays on Modern Culture. Oxford: Oneworld, 2006. Guarneri, Carl. The Utopian Alternative : Fourierism in Nineteenth- Century America. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1991. Gura, Philip F. American Transcendentalism: A History. 1st ed. New York, NY: Hill and Wang, 2007. Harlow, Barbara. Resistance Literature. London, UK: Methuen and Co: University Paperbacks, 1987. 69 Jameson, Fredric. Postmodernism: Or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism. Post-Contemporary Interventions. Vol. 438. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1991. ---. The Political Unconscious: Narrative as a Socially Symbolic Act. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1981. Kaplan, Amy, and Donald E. Pease. Cultures of United States Imperialism. New Americanists. Durham: Duke University Press, 1993. Longeaux y Vasquez, Enriqueta. "Soy Chicana Primero." El Cuaderno 1.1 (1971): 17-22. Martín-Rodríguez, Manuel M. Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature. 1st ed. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003. Moraga, Cherríe. Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios. Boston, MA: Southe End Press, 1983. ---. The Last Generation. Boston, MA: South End Press, 1993. Moraga, Cherríe, and Gloria Anzaldúa. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Women of Color Series. Expanded 3rd ed. Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 2002. Nairn, Tom. The Break-up of Britain. London, UK: New Left Books, 1981. Newman, Lance. Our Common Dwelling: Henry Thoreau, Transcendentalism, and the Class Politics of Nature. 1st ed. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. ---. "Thoreau's Natural Community and Utopian Socialism." American Literature 75.3 (2003). 70 O'Brien, Harriet Ellen. Lost Utopias: A Brief Description of Three Quests for Happiness, Alcott's Fruitlands, Old Shaker House, and American Indian Museum, Rescued from Oblivion. Boston, MA: P. Walton Publishers, 1929. Padilla, Genaro M. My History, Not Yours: The Formation of Mexican American Autobiography. Wisconsin Studies in American Autobiography. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1993. Pal, Dharam. "Civil Disobedience in Indian Tradition." Dharam Pal's Collected Writings. Ed. Intro by: Jayprakash Narayan. Vol. 2. Other India Press, 2000. Pathfinder Press. Documents of the Chicano Struggle. [New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971. Pratt, Jeff C. Class, Nation and Identity : The Anthropology of Political Movements. London ; Sterling, Va.: Pluto Press, 2003. Rich, Adrienne. On Lies, Secrets, and Silence: Selected Prose 1966- 1978. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1995. Romero, Laura. "Nationalism and Internationalism: Domestic Differences in a Postcolonial World." American Literature 67.4 (1995): 795- 800. Royce, Josiah. Studies of Good and Evil; a Series of Essays Upon Problems of Philosophy and Life. New York,: D. Appleton and company, 1899. Ruiz de Burton, María Amparo. The Squatter and the Don. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. 2nd ed. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1997. ---. Who Would Have Thought It? Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1995. 71 Said, Edward W. Culture and Imperialism. 1st Vintage Books ed. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1994. ---. Orientalism. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1994. Saldívar, José David. Border Matters : Remapping American Cultural Studies. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997. Saldívar, Ramón. Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Difference. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconson Press, 1990. Saldivar, Ramon. Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Difference. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1990. Saldívar-Hull, Sonia. Feminism on the Border: Chicana Gender Politics and Literature. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2000. Sandoval, Chela. Methodology of the Oppressed. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2000. Scott, James C. Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1985. Spillers, Hortense J. Comparative American Identities : Race, Sex, and Nationality in the Modern Text. New York: Routledge, 1991. Thoreau, Henry David. Walden and Civil Disobedience. New York, NY: Penguin Classics, 1983. ---. Walden and Civil Disobedience. New York, NY: Penguin Books, 1983. Tocqueville, Alexis de, Gerald E. Bevan, and Isaac Kramnick. Democracy in America: And Two Essays on America. London, UK: Penguin Books, 2003. 72 Trujillo, Carla. Chicana Lesbians: The Girls Our Mothers Warned Us About. Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 1991. 73 Chapter 2 Gazing East: Race Purity and Virtue in Who Would Have Thought It? Just as there is a presumption that United States history begins in the east and moves to the west against a savage frontier, so is there a presumption that this expansion was an inevitable and ultimate good. Even now, to connect western expansion with race slavery and Native American genocide is to write against the “official” versions of Californian and southwestern history. María Amparo Ruiz de Burton’s nineteenth century novel Who Would Have Thought It? 112 writes against these assumptions and makes the connection between United States imperialism and issues of race clear, as her novel’s trajectory connects the U.S. west to the east, and the north to the south. 112 María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It?, Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication, eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita (Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1995). 74 Published in Philadelphia in 1872, Ruiz de Burton’s work is the first known novel by a Mexican American. 113 Yet the claiming of Who Would Have Thought It? as an early Chicana/o novel lays bare more than one history of racism and resistance to the existing United States black / white binary. Writing this satirical novel, Ruiz de Burton attempts to reclaim whiteness for her own class of Californios by exposing the racist hypocrisy of the northeastern white elite. In doing so, she expresses sympathy with southern slave holding, seems to agree with the stereotypes of crudeness and vulgarity expressed about the Irish in the northeast, reinforces racist stereotypes and ridicules the position of abolitionists as little more than hypocrites. Spanish colonial Mexico becomes, in the process, a utopian space of cosmopolitan civility set against the provincialism of the northeastern bourgeois capitalism. 113 Manuel M. Martín-Rodríguez, Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature, 1st ed. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003). 75 Introduction: Resisting the Western Gaze ‘To me they are all alike -- Indians, Mexicans or Californians -- they are all horrid. [...] as soon as we take their lands from them they will never be heard of anymore, and then the Americans, with God’s help, will have all the land that was so righteously acquired though a just war and a most liberal payment in money.’ 114 As a child and young adult I occasionally found myself in odd semantic discussions about California and the United States, in the context of history and place. The causes of these disagreements were my naive linguistic constructions -- or rather, mis-constructions - - which resisted the assumption of an eastern geographic and historic gaze. When in conversation I unconsciously used the phrases “out east” and “back west,” prompting disagreements with my more savvy school friends. “That’s not the way you’re supposed to say it,” they repeatedly told me. “You’re supposed to say ‘back east’ and ‘out west’.” I could not understand how they could possibly be correct., arguing in my self-centered fashion, there was no back east for me: 114 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It?. (11) 76 both sides of my family had been in California for as long as they had been in the United States -- in my mother’s case for longer than California had been one of the United States. Family history was important to both my mother’s and father’s families, and so by school age I already knew we were Californians first and last. I knew my ancestors had immigrated directly to either San Francisco or Los Angeles from Mexico, England and Ireland. In my mother’s family, these migrations had occurred long before California was even a U.S. territory. No relatives I knew, or even knew of, had settled in the eastern United States; we all lived in California. Further, neither my parents nor I had ever been to the east side of the Sierra Nevada mountains. How could I, even rhetorically, be expected to go “back” to a place where no one I was connected to had ever been? The argument for my own self-centered construction seemed so obviously correct that I unconsciously continued to use it as an undergraduate living “back east” while attending Ohio State University. This linguistic resistance to adopting the eastern gaze did not survive embarrassed corrections by history and American literature professors. By then I understood enough about the conventions of language and 77 idiom to correct my errors when they were pointed out, without trying to explain the reasoning behind them. However, in my head I continued to resist, to think of myself as being from “back” west in California and attending school “out east” in Ohio. The other trajectory always felt logically and linguistically wrong; wherever I happened to be, the southwest and especially California were -- and are -- always home. Except when viewed through my personal gaze, my friends and professors were correct: in the United States, culturally the east is where we are all from. History is, as Chicana historian Emma Pérez reminds us, “after all, the story of the conquerors, those who have won,” 115 and its narrative is therefore almost always told from the victor’s perspective. The literary and intellectual history of the American west was, and still is, largely inscribed by the east, be it through nineteenth century visions of “manifest destiny,” in the eastern universities with their early centers for United States history and literature or more recent visions of the “machine in the garden,” 115 Emma Pérez, The Decolonial Imaginary: Writing Chicanas into History (Bloomington, IN: University of Indiana Press, 1995). (xv) 78 or even the importance of the western trajectory in frontier and border studies. United States history and mythology see the west as the frontier. It is either the edge, or that which is moved toward; the west mythically is not either home base or a point of origin. This east-to-west construction partly explains why Chicano/a history and literature constantly resist integration into the larger United State historical narrative, since the history of Aztlán begins with the west as the Chicano/a point of origin, redefining it as the home space rather than the frontier. Since the story of United States history and culture is generally told via the trajectory of Anglo settlers from the more populous east (especially the northeast) moving into and settling in the open / empty spaces of the west, despite centuries of Spanish colonial conquest and settlement. This was, and -- mythologically at any rate -- still is, the path of the United States’ colonial conquest and settlement. The Chicano/a use of Aztlán to re-name and re- claim the southwest of the United States resists the eastern position in the naming of New England as the assumed collective homeland. 79 Introduction to Who Would Have Thought It? In her novel Who Would Have Thought It?, as well as her later work The Squatter and the Don, 116 María Amparo Ruiz de Burton writes against this presumed east to west historical trajectory, locating the home space in the southwest (and, in The Squatter and the Don, specifically in California) rather than the New England east. She also names as a cultural point of origin the Mexican south rather than the New England north. Similar to Ruiz de Burton’s own life, the history of the novel’s heroine, the idealized Lola Medina, begins in Mexico at the time of the United States / Mexican War, then migrates to the the United States’ western frontier -- first outside then inside of the “civilized” United States -- before she finally moves to the supposedly 116 María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, The Squatter and the Don, eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita, 2nd ed. (Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1997). 80 tolerant and civilized northeast. Read as early Chicana novels, 117 Maria Amparo Ruiz de Burton’s works offer an insight into nineteenth century perspectives of Anglo Northerners by the early California Chicanos / Mexican Americans. Ruiz de Burton was in a rare -- if not unique -- position as a Californio novelist who had spent a significant amount of time as an adult in the eastern United States, to give this largely unheard and unknown viewpoint. Ruiz de Burton’s life, like that of her character Lola, seems itself a study of movement between margins as she negotiated the positions of Mexican, U.S. citizen, Californio and the wife then widow of a Union officer. Though her life was obviously 117 Though there are many good reasons for reading Ruiz de Burton as an early Chicana writer -- her resistance to the Anglo hegemony, her status as both a Mexican and an American, etc. -- there are also reasons why the label is not appropriate. These include ahistoricism (the adoption of the label “Chicano/a” dates from almost one hundred years after the publication of Ruiz de Burton’s writings) and her resistance to seeing either real or fictional Californios as anything other than racially pure, that is to say, white, Spanish. For reasons I will discuss later in this chapter, I will, however, categorize Who Would Have Thought It? as a Chicano novel and Ruiz de Burton as an early Chicana author. 81 not fiction, it can be fit in with that of a group of fictional characters from the West. 118 Shelley Streeby writes that these characters are the ...sensational representations of the cross-dressed Mexican female soldiers [which] similarly helped to move Mexicans as a group into that magic circle, for the cross-dresser usually crossed back into her feminine role and sometimes even married a U.S. soldier. This may suggest that Mexicans as a group were ‘distinctive but assimilable’ white ethnics rather than racialized non-whites, an idea that is supported by the terms of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which offered citizenship to former Mexican nationals who remained in lands claimed by the United States after the war. 119 María Amparo Ruiz de Burton was a Mexicana born in 1832 in Baja California where she and her relatives would continue to own property. She moved with her family to Alta California in 1847 when she was a young teenager. Thus, at a young age, María Amparo became a U.S. citizen in 1848 under the provisions of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo when the United States border was moved to 118 Shelby Streeby, in her study American Sensations: Class, Empire and the Production of Popular Culture, is referring specifically to fictional accounts of the cross-dressing Mexican female soldier. 119 Shelley Streeby, American Sensations : Class, Empire, and the Production of Popular Culture, American Crossroads 9 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002). (103). 82 make Alta California part of United States territory. The following year, 1849, at the age of seventeen, María Amparo Ruiz further strengthened her ties to the United States by becoming ‘María Ruiz de Burton,’ marrying Colonel Henry S. Burton, whom she had met in 1847 when she was fifteen. Colonel (later General) Burton was a United States Union army officer. 120 Because of their marriage, Ruiz de Burton lived in the northeastern U.S. for a number of years during her husband’s Civil War stationing, getting to meet and socialize with both U.S. President Lincoln and Confederate President Jefferson-Davis. In 1869, General Burton died while stationed in Florida. Three years later, in 1872, perhaps in a bid for financial security as she struggled to care for her two children and to re-claim her family’s lands in both Baja and Alta California, Ruiz de Burton then wrote and published her first novel, the satire Who Would Have Thought It?. Ruiz de Burton’s later novel, the sentimental romance, The Squatter and the Don, published in 1885, is set in California and is more famous in its layered narrative about the --at least in the 120 Sanchez, Rosaura and Beatrice Pita, “Introduction,” Who Would Have Thought It?, 1995 (viii-ix). 83 author’s view-- tragic displacement of the aristocratic Spanish land- grant Californios by the newly-wealthy, upstart American settlers from the East, expressing her dismay at the social change brought on by the migration weight of gold carries the day [...] Henceforth, money shall be the sole requisite upon which to base social claims. High culture, talents, good antecedents, accomplishments, all of which are now the veriest trash. Money and nothing but money, became the order of the day. 121 These “Yankees” who take land and wealth from the Californios by literally “squatting” on it are seen to be vulgar and opportunistic. Similar themes are brought out in Ruiz de Burton’s earlier novel, Who Would Have Thought It? which is set mainly in the northeast, but looks southwest toward Mexico and the western territories as both places of wealth and outposts of gracious civilization. It is a parody constructed with elements of several different nineteenth century popular fiction genres -- and ironically mocking of each of them -- while it also points out and ridicules the ignorance of the “educated” 121 Ruiz de Burton, The Squatter and the Don. (324-325) 84 Northeast about the racial diversity of Mexicans and, by association, the Californios. María Amparo Ruiz de Burton’s novel, Who Would Have Thought It? (her first of two) was first published anonymously in 1872 by J.B. Lipincott Press. Though published anonymously, the text’s copyright was always held by “Mrs. Henry Burton.” Letters written at the time indicate Ruiz de Burton was apparently concerned that were her identity as a non-native English speaker known, it would make readers more critical of her text. 122 The novel covers a span of close to fifty years, between the early and late- middle nineteenth century. It opens in 1857, as pre-Civil War tensions are rising, but flashes back almost immediately to 1846, 123 as the character of Dr. Norval recounts how Doña Therese Medina, the mother of Lola, the protagonist, was kidnapped by Indians from her home in Sonora, 122 María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, Conflicts of Interest : The Letters of María Amparo Ruiz De Burton, eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita (Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 2001). 123 This period (the mid-to-late 1840s) was not only the period of the U.S. - Mexican War, but also the time given to an abduction of two Mexican girls from the Jamul Ranch (near San Diego) by the Mohave Indians. 85 Mexico. The novel concludes in the late 1860s, at a moment almost contemporary with its publication. The book’s narrative follows the events of the Civil War and ends in the historical present, following what were, at the time, contemporary political and social events surrounding reconstruction. 124 By setting the kidnapping of the pregnant Doña Theresa Medina in 1846 or 1847, during the United States - Mexican War (1846 - 1848), Ruiz de Burton situated the conflict between Mexico and the United States -- and the war’s outcome -- at the novel’s center. She thereby makes the U.S. / Mexican war equal to, or even more important than, the United States Civil War, which is played out in the background of the text. Further, the U.S. / Mexican war could be seen as the cause of the U.S. Civil War, just as Lola’s mother’s kidnapping is the reason for of Lola’s experience with the Norvals. 124 For a more detailed account of the novel’s timeline, see the notes by Rosaura Sanchez and Beatrice Pita in their introduction to the 1995 edition of Who Would Have Thought It? (xvi). 86 Figure 2: Original Title Page for Who Would Have Thought It?. The epigraph by abolitionist poet John Greenleaf Whitter reads: “But by all thy nature’s weakness,/Hidden faults and follies known,/Be thou, in rebuking evil,/Conscious of thine own.” 87 Lola’s origins, both her Mexican - Spanish heritage and the Colorado River valley where Dr. Norval finds her ground the novel’s geographic and temporal locations. These sites are significant because they demonstrate Ruiz de Burton’s own sense of the importance of the war between the United States and Mexico even as the Civil War looms large in the novel. The lack of protection by the Mexican government places the Spanish / Mexican Californio population at risk of being subsumed by the “savage” Indian population, represented by both the Indian capture of Lola’s mother, but also the experience of former Mexican citizens such as Ruiz de Burton as they were stripped of their property under the United States government. Ruiz de Burton saw how the addition of the lands claimed by the United States under the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, played in United States constructions of race and empire and the construction of identity for those of Mexican origin. Lola and her inherited mineral wealth (in the form of gold and gems) are claimed by her adoptive “family,” becoming representative of the wrongful claiming of western property by the United States. 88 Opening her novel in the supposedly civilized and sophisticated northeast, it is in the shadow of these decades of conflict and chaos in the west and southwest that Ruiz de Burton introduces her characters. This period was one of both cultural and social disorder in the United States. The cause of the social disorder was not only the conflict over slavery, but also the upheaval created by the imperialism of the United States as it absorbed western lands, wealth and (more reluctantly) peoples from Mexico. As the attitudes of the novel’s characters toward Lola reflect, the United States was at this time struggling to figure out how, and in fact whether, to incorporate former Mexicans citizens --those supposedly now to be considered “Mexican Americans,” who would later rename themselves “Chicanos” - - into its white body, and trying to determine what their status as “citizens” would be. What Ruiz de Burton’s text reveals is the degree to which the United States found it easy to absorb the land and wealth claimed under the treaty, while erasing the people. The territory Mexico was forced to cede to the United States following the end of U.S. Mexican War was enormous; as Laura Elisa Pérez points out, the captured land mass was “almost half of Mexico,” 89 and increased the total territory and population of the United States significantly. Discussing the discomfort created by this process, Pérez writes that Mexicans were incorporated into the body of the nation in a disorderly and ultimately disordering manner... Mexicans were first etched into U.S. national discourse as mute, incomprehensible glyphs upon massive territories... The new house that the Fourteenth Colony family moved into in 1848 was built upon the subjugation -- the binding beneath -- of the Mexican American as nationally abject. 125 The very existence of the former Mexicans --now technically U.S. citizens-- and their land rights, made a lie of at least part of the myth of Manifest Destiny. An important tenet of manifest destiny was that the western frontiers and territories were empty lands, populated at most by scattered “indians,” and simply waiting for United States expansion and development. The fear of and resistance to this mute abjection of the Californios by their U.S. colonizer is evident throughout Ruiz de 125 Laura Elisa Perez, "El Disorden, Nationalisms and Chicano/a Aesthetics," Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State, eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999). (21) 90 Burton’s writings -- indeed, her second novel, The Squatter and the Don, published in 1885, was written at least in part to address the use of U.S. tax law to take lands from the Californios, and in the hope of using her fiction to write the Californios’ unknown and seemingly unwritable history, one which she rightly feared might otherwise never be heard. Her perspective therefore looks not from the east toward the west, as the supposed frontier, but from the west toward the east, the location of power for the colonizer. In this, Ruiz de Burton’s novels offer her perspective on the easterner’s view of this land (the west) where they had never been. As the novel opens, Dr. Norval, a character with a “unnatural liking of foreigners,” 126 has returned to his Boston-area family with great wealth, a little “black” girl who, he claims to his wife and daughters, has a “history is more romantic than half the heroines of your trashy novels.” 127 The girl’s mother, a Mexican noblewoman, Doña Theresa Medina, who had been kidnapped from her home in 126 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (11). 127 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (17). 91 Sonora, Mexico by Apache “Indians” 128 in 1846, and her daughter Lola, who was born into tribal captivity shortly after her mother’s capture, were found by the doctor living as prisoners of Apache Indians, their skin dyed black so they would not be spotted as white. As Beth Fisher points out, Lola is then “rescued” by Dr. Norval (at her dying mother’s behest), only to be held captive by the Yankee Norvals, who desire her wealth while despising her racial and religious otherness. 129 Mother and daughter, Doña Theresa and Lola, represent both the early Chicano/as and northern Mexico itself, as they were reluctantly annexed into United States citizenship along with their lands at the end of the U.S. - Mexican War. Because of its depiction of an eastern upper middle class family and their society from the perspective of an outsider from the 128 Throughout this chapter, I use the term “Indian” to refer to the fictionalized Native Americans of Ruiz de Burton’s text, reflecting the author’s use of the term in her novel. 129 Beth Fisher, "The Captive Mexicana and the Desiring Bourgeois Woman: Domesticity and Expansionism in Ruiz De Burton’s Who Would Have Thought It?," Legacy 16.1 (1999). (59) 92 west, Who Would Have Thought It? 130 offers a unique nineteenth century view of the culture of the United States east coast, especially the abolitionist and Transcendentalist eastern elite. As a satirical novel which centers on a northeastern abolitionist family during the Civil War, it spotlights the hypocrisy and ignorance of the family and its community toward the southwest, by demonstrating their ignorance and racism toward their adopted ward, Lola Medina. Lola is presented as a Californio / Mexicana 131 girl who had been raised from birth to age ten by an Apache Indian tribe, and her captive mother. What the novel reveals most clearly is the author’s perception, as a Californio, of the northeastern prejudice against those perceived as being of darker races. Lola is seen by some in her adopted family as being a mixture of African and Native American: both believed to be inferior, and neither socially acceptable. 130 Who Would Have Thought It? was first published anonymously (though copyrighted as the work of Mrs. Henry S. Burton) in 1872 by Philadelphia publisher J.B. Lippincott. 131 Though Lola is depicted as Mexicana in the novel (there is no explicit writing of her as Californio in the text), because of Ruiz de Burton’s own background it is likely that she was intended to be seen as such. 93 Religious prejudice is also made evident in the novel, despite the abolitionist views of the household. The New Englanders are depicted as having a strong and irrational (at least in terms of their supposed views on ‘freedom’) anti-Catholic bias. 132 This underlines concerns of Lola’s foreignness and further pushes her outside northeastern society. Finally, too, there is the issue of class. This expresses itself in the novel as a prejudice against (and seduction by) the west itself for its easy wealth -- represented by the gold and gems found by Lola’s mother -- that is deemed to have wrongly given Lola a class and status she should not have, and does not deserve. Ruiz de Burton’s novel repeatedly mocks the northeast middle class for its pretensions of sophistication, while making their provincialism evident. At the same time, however, Ruiz de Burton also reveals the degrees of racial bias and prejudice within this California / Western diversity. The Northeasterners are lampooned not only because they 132 This Northeastern bias against Catholics and Catholicism (and the Irish especially) is evident in many works by authors associated with the Transcendentalist movement and its descendants, including being found in passages in Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. 94 are hypocrites in being prejudiced against ‘negroes’ or ‘indians,’ despite their supposedly abolitionist views, but also because these Anglo characters are too ignorant to know that Californios and Mexicans of a certain class are ‘pure Spanish,’ and therefore ‘pure white’ -- not ‘indio’ or ‘negro.’ These distinctions, those of the gente de razon, which are made repeatedly throughout Ruiz de Burton’s novels, are drawn from Spanish colonialism and are uncomfortable to the contemporary reader. 133 They are especially so, I would argue, for the Chicano/a or ethnic reader wanting to reclaim, rediscover or teach Who Would Have Thought It? as an early Chicana novel. The bias and racism revealed by Ruiz de Burton’s color line distinctions made throughout the novel demonstrate the racism not just in white or Anglo culture, but also in Spanish-Mexican culture -- as the passing narrative in African American literature shows the color bias against darkness in both white and African American society. 133 Kate McCullough, Regions of Identity : The Construction of America in Women's Fiction, 1885-1914 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1999). (133-135) 95 One of the repressed histories Ruiz de Burton’s novel reveals is the layers of colonialism in the conquest of the southwest. This was a history in danger of disappearing, even at the time Ruiz de Burton was writing her first novel, thus the author’s sense of loss, and her fear of cultural erasure, are important to the reading of her novels. The act of reviving repressed histories by subordinated peoples is, according to Homi Bhabha, an expression of a concept he names “unhomeliness -- that is the condition of extra-territorial and cross- cultural initiations.” 134 This fear of vanishing, of being subsumed, was one expressed by a number of early Mexican American writers, including Ruiz de Burton. As Genaro M. Padilla wrote, [...] when Mexicans were colonized by the United States, when as David Weber writes, they were, “quickly conquered, subjected to an alien political system in an alien culture,” they immediately gave utterance to the threat of social erasure. 135 134 Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of Culture (London ; New York: Routledge, 1994). (9). 135 Genaro M. Padilla, My History, Not Yours : The Formation of Mexican American Autobiography, Wisconsin Studies in American Autobiography (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1993). (4) 96 Their concern about cultural and social erasure was genuine, and borne out by the Californios’ experiences -- something made clear repeatedly in Ruiz de Burton’s works. This resistance to being forgotten is also one which may also be used to point out the “Chicana/o-ness” of Ruiz de Burton’s writings, despite their privileging of whiteness. In discussing characteristics specific to Chicana literature, Rafael Perez-Torres writes [t]he concern with tracing and erasing, demarcating “space” in relation to Chicana/o literature, forms a significant strain in Chicano literary criticism.... Suspended between worlds, Chicana literature forms out of these interstices a cultural practice that expands the interstitial. 136 Yet even as it is clear that Ruiz de Burton was writing against a real concern about loss of status and cultural identity, it is also equally clear that the racism in her writing reflects the prejudice against darkness as held by the Spanish / Mexican elite. The Anglo view of race as a binary divided between blackness and whiteness rendered the Californios invisible. However, a 136 Rafael Perez-Torres, Movements in Chicano Poetry: Against Myths, against Margins (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1995). (24) 97 contemporary difficulty of the attempt by the newly-made (dating from the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo) class of Mexican Americans to gain or even merely retain the privileges of whiteness by claiming European racial purity, is the degree to which it reveals the racial colonialism existing in the pre-Guadalupe Hidalgo Southwest, albeit of a Mexican / Spanish rather than Anglo North American flavor. Native Americans or African Americans are depicted by Ruiz de Burton as both inferior and other to the whites. Their inferiority is used to demonstrate how clearly superior to either group Lola Medina is, while she demonstrates her moral and “natural” superiority to shallow whites such as Mrs. Norval. 98 The United States - Mexican War: Splitting Aztlán Along Racial and Religious Lines Here was the question: Are you for man, and for the good of man; or are you for the hurt and harm of man? It was a question, whether men shall be treated as leather? Whether the negroes shall be, as the Indians were in Spanish America, a species of money? Whether this institution, which is a kind of mill or factory for converting men into monkeys, shall be upheld and enlarged. 137 Ruiz de Burton’s novel Who Would Have Thought It?, much of which is set during the United States Civil War, is framed by the conflict between the northern and southern states. Yet reading the novel, the cause of the conflict is not often directly expressed in terms of slavery -- in fact, the issue of U.S. chattel slavery is remarkably absent in Ruiz de Burton’s text. 138 The causes of the war, 137 Ralph Waldo Emerson, Emerson's Antislavery Writings, eds. Len Gougeon and Joel Myerson (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995). (79). 138 The absence of any depiction or discussion of slavery has been remarked on by several contemporary critics of Ruiz de Burton’s text. See Jesse Alemán’s essay “‘Thank God, Lolita Is Away from Those Horrid Savages’: The Politics of Whiteness in Who Would Have Thought It?” María Amparo Ruiz de Burton: Critical and Pedagogical Perspectives. (98). 99 disputes regarding the expansion of slavery are mentioned very infrequent. Nor does the novel trace the regional conflict to the start of the Civil War in 1861, or even to the U.S. abolitionist movement -- which had existed since the formation of the first abolitionist society in New England in 1775 -- but had taken popular hold by 1850s. 139 Via the character of Mrs. Norval, who publicly supports abolition while treating the “black” Lola as beneath her, Ruiz de Burton presents the abolitionist movement with some contempt, as a movement tainted by hypocrisy and racism. Instead, Who Would Have Thought It? traces the origins of the north - south conflict to the start of the United States - Mexican War (1846 to 1848), and as a conflict of east against west, rather than north against south. There is some historical accuracy to this construction. The U.S. - Mexican War was a war not only of the eastern states attempting to claim the western territories from Mexico (an outgrowth of the nineteenth century belief in manifest destiny), but of the southeastern United States attempting to expand slavery into the west against the 139 Stanley Harrold, The Rise of Aggressive Abolitionism: Addresses to the Slaves (Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky, 2004). 100 abolitionist sentiments of the northeast. It is at the moment of these conflicts (the 1840s) that the narrative of Who Would Have Thought It? begins. Mother and daughter, Doña Theresa and Lola, represent both the early Chicano/as and northern Mexico itself, as they were reluctantly annexed into United States citizenship along with their lands at the end of the U.S. - Mexican War. The history of the United States’ war with Mexico is one which is central to understanding Chicano/a history and the history of the American west. Almost every critical Chicano/a text since the 1970s begins with a discussion of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which ended the U.S. - Mexican War, explaining the role of both the war and the treaty in the creation of the Chicano/a people. Yet, as with much of western and “frontier” history, the reality of the war’s causes have been lost in the mythology of manifest destiny, as has the ethical validity of much of the war’s vocal opposition. Although the United States - Mexican War enjoyed early political and social popularity in the northeastern and southern states, it rather quickly was opposed by an extremely vocal and intellectually influential anti- war movement which opposed western expansion into Mexican 101 territories. These anti-war protesters included such notable public intellectuals as Ralph Waldo Emerson, John Quincy Adams, and, of course, Henry David Thoreau. As noted in Chapter One, Thoreau was famously jailed for his unwillingness to pay taxes to support the war against Mexico, an experience that prompted him to write his 1849 essay “Civil Disobedience.” Their voices, and those of other anti-war protesters, grew to define the war itself. While there were some opposing voices from the south, the center of gravity for the U.S. - Mexican anti-war movement was Transcendentalist New England, and specifically Concord. The war’s most vocal opposition overlapped directly with the most vocal elements of the U.S. abolitionist movement and included many of the contributors to the Transcendentalist publication, The Dial. This confluence occurred because of the abolitionists’ well-founded fears that any territories gained as a result of the U.S. - Mexican War would be added to the union as slave states, changing the uneasy balance of power between slave and free states. Indeed, there was a general perception on the part of abolitionists that the move to expand the United States westward was a move to expand slavery 102 beyond a national level. As early as October 1837, Emerson joined other Concord writers and citizens in signing a letter to the U.S. Congress stating the following: Although the independence of Texas has been recognized by this government, yet it has not been acknowledged by Mexico, and is now forcibly resisted by that power: -- therefore its annexation into the Union might involve this nation in a war with Mexico. [...] While we do not claim for Congress the power to abolish slavery in the several States, we are opposed to its further extension by that body, hence, are decidedly hostile to the annexation of Texas to the Union, with a constitution which expressly sanctions slavery, and encourages the slave trade between that country and the United States. 140 For U.S. abolitionists, the expansion of slavery in the United States represented by the annexation of Texas would end any possibility that slavery in the United States could be contained within the original southern slave states and eventually done away with altogether. These fears were justified when Texas joined the United States in late 1845 as the twenty-eighth state and, more significantly, the fifteenth 140 Gougeon, Len. “Historical Background” Emerson’s Antislavery Writings. Eds. Len Gougeon and Joel Myerson. New Haven CT: Yale University Press. 1995. (xxvii) Emphasis is original to the text. This was the first of several petitions signed by notables such as Emerson and brought to Congress between 1837 and the formal annexation of Texas in December, 1845. 103 slave state. Texas’s addition to the Union -- despite it still being claimed by Mexico as part of that nation’s northern territories -- changed the fragile slave / free state balance from 14/13 to 15/13, as well as precipitating the start of the U.S. - Mexican War. The history of slavery in the Americas, the United States, and especially in Texas, argues for a global rather than national reading of eighteenth and nineteenth century history. The outcome of that war -- the addition of Texas increasing the number of slave states from thirteen to fourteen -- was an especially distressing one for abolitionists, not just in the United States, but globally. U.S. abolitionists believed themselves to be participating in a larger international movement to end slavery -- not just in the United States and its territories. Texas becoming a slave state not only marked an expansion of slavery in the United States, but also a step backward for abolition globally, since it returned slavery to a region where it had already been legally abolished. In August, 1844, almost two years prior to the annexation of Texas and the start of the U.S. war with Mexico, in an address on emancipation in the British West Indies, Emerson expressed envy of the British abolition of slavery in its 104 territories. His argument was read at the time as indicating a wish that the United States had not declared independence from Britain before slavery had been abolished. His text, in part, reads Forgive me, fellow citizens, if I own to you, that in the last few days my attention has been occupied with this history [that of the British abolition movement], I have not been able to read a page of it without the most painful comparisons. Whilst I have read of England, I have thought of New England. Whilst I have meditated on my solitary walks on the magnanimity of the English Bench and Senate, reaching out the benefit of law to the most helpless citizen in her world-wide realm, I have found myself oppressed by other thoughts.[...] 141 Prior to the U.S. - Mexican War, slavery had already been abolished in Texas, and indeed throughout all of Mexico in 1829 by the Spanish/Mexican government. When Texans argued for their “rights” against the Spanish and Mexican governments, one right that concerned them most was the the “right” to own slaves -- the protection of slavery was the cause of the Texans’ drive for freedom against Mexican government “oppression.” The effect of Texas becoming part of the United States, was that slavery was allowed to 141 Emerson, Emerson's Antislavery Writings. (24) 105 return to Texas, and Texans were again allowed to own slaves. This outcome was, to abolitionists, as though the men and women who had earlier been freed from bondage would suddenly find their chains returned. Literary historian Shelley Streeby writes of the U.S. - Mexican conflict and its importance both in American history and literature and to her own work on nineteenth century popular literature, saying, [...] the U.S. Mexican War is central to this study of popular and mass culture, class and racial formations in the American 1848. Sometimes called a forgotten war, this conflict nonetheless had formative effects on the constructions of race, class and nation in the mid- nineteenth century and on the Civil War itself. Indeed, some of the most influential American Studies work on the significance of 1848 has focused on the U.S. - Mexican War as a cause of the Civil War. 142 The Mexican-American War is, as Streeby writes, sometimes referred to as “the forgotten war” because historical memory of the conflict was ultimately eclipsed by the enormity of the U.S. Civil War fought less than two decades later. This war with Mexico was the first major conflict to be driven by the idea of "Manifest Destiny" -- the belief 142 Streeby, American Sensations : Class, Empire, and the Production of Popular Culture. (6). 106 that America [by which was meant the United States] had a God-given right, or destiny, to expand the country's borders from “sea to shining sea.” The idea of manifest destiny was popularly accepted throughout the northern as well as southern states. Resisting this popular notion as she wrote Who Would Have Thought It?, Ruiz de Burton makes reference to the belief in manifest destiny in the very first pages on the novel. She ridicules it by having belief in it espoused by the character of Mrs Cackle, who will, over the course of the novel, show herself to be entirely self-interested and venial. Mrs. Cackle states with regard to “Indians, Mexicans, or Californians” that they are all alike to her and “all horrid,” but that, in the end, they do not matter anyway as the destiny of all three is to vanish; that ...our just laws and smart lawyers will soon “freeze them out.” That as soon as we take their lands from them they will never be heard of anymore, and then the Americans, with God’s help, will have all the land that was so righteously acquired though a just war and a most liberal payment in money.’ 143 Mrs. Cackle’s belief, that it was God’s will that the United States stretch across the continent, was commonly held in the U.S. Northeast 143 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (11). 107 during the nineteenth century. Manifest Destiny and the popular assumption of it being part of the natural order of the frontier, would eventually cause a great deal of suffering for many Mexicans, Native Americans and United States citizens of Mexican descent. This outcome was one Ruiz de Burton was already experiencing, and resisting via her writing, by the 1860s and 1870s. It is this sense of her people -- Mexicanos generally, and Californios specifically -- being “frozen out,” and “never heard from anymore,” that would seem to motivate Ruiz de Burton’s writing. Who Would Have Thought It?, and her later novel, The Squatter and the Don, were written in opposition to this sense of her own and the Californios’ erasure. The conflict with Mexico, its outcome for the United States in terms of a massive addition of territory and people, and the consequent effects in areas ranging from the economy to the country’s popular culture, are still further underlined by José Limón, who writes [at] the outset of the expansion of a U.S. capitalist economy based in the North, the U.S. South and Greater Mexico came to be seen in terms of images of sexualized-eroticized romance and perversity within this 108 expanding and increasingly instrumentalist culture -- erogenous and dangerous zone of the body politic. 144 With its captivity narrative and romance, Who Would Have Thought It? superficially seems to fit within these popular “sexualized-eroticized” romantic images of the west in the mid-to-late nineteenth century, as discussed by Limón and Streeby. Yet Ruiz de Burton also writes against type in the way her text describes, while also romanticizing, 145 the Mexicans and Californios -- who would in the next century become Chicano/as. In Ruiz de Burton’s portrayal, Lola, her parents and grandfather are depicted as embodying civilized European culture -- they are first depicted debating whether Archduke Maximilian should accept the throne of Mexico -- her father stating “[m]y Austrian blood rebels against fighting him.” 146 She contrasts them repeatedly with the provincialism of the supposedly sophisticated north-easterners, 144 José Limon, American Encounters: Greater Mexico, the United States, and the Erotics of Culture (Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1998). (209) 145 This would also be the case with her 1885 work about the lost Californios, The Squatter and the Don. 146 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (197). 109 and the Norvals specifically, people who are seduced away from their morals by western wealth. Reconnecting the South and Southwest Until recently, studies of United States history and literature had treated the American South and the American West as separate entities, as though the two had completely (or almost completely) discrete histories and literatures. But, as Jose Limón argued in 1998, the United States south and southwest have common histories which are culturally and historically linked and intertwined. Limón’s historical and cultural study, American Encounters: Greater Mexico, the United States and the Erotics of Culture, focuses mainly on Texas, but he extends his 147 arguments regarding Texas to encompass the entire U.S. southwest, and even into Mexico. About this space, which Limón renames “Greater Mexico” (a term he takes from earlier writing by Ameríco Paredes), he claims that 147 For Limon, Texas is an in-between, liminal space, at the same time belonging to the western and southern United States. 110 One might say that the American South served as midwife -- and not a gentle one -- at the birth of Greater Mexico. Although the actual birth must be dated at 1848 ... this Southern involvement began in 1826, in what is now Texas, climaxed in 1847, and ultimately shaped the social character of not only Greater Mexico but also of the modern American South. 148 These linked histories of the United States South and Limón's. after Paredes, Greater Mexico -- for which he interestingly opts to use the sexualized metaphor of childbirth and midwifery -- connect the American south and southwest across the cause of slavery and race. Yet while one would like to use their connected histories to conjoin Chicano/a history with African American history long before the movements of the 1960s would ultimately do so, Ruiz de Burton’s text, and her persistent claiming of Californio whiteness, instead joins the two regions in a struggle to be seen as white in opposition to the colored history of slavery. This vision of the history of the southwest as connected to United States southern history underlines the connection of the southwest to the abolition movement, slavery and the Civil War, which further links the history of the United States 148 Limon, American Encounters: Greater Mexico, the United States, and the Erotics of Culture. (9) 111 southwest with the U.S. northeast. The strong feelings of the abolitionists against the expansion of slavery shaped how they saw the territories of Texas, California and the whole of the southwest. The connection between the United States south, southwest, Mexico and the U.S. Civil War is not a comparative or new one, but rather history that is being reclaimed from an artificially-imposed distance which detached the histories of United States western expansion from the issue of slavery. Why would this portion of Chicano/a history -- that which connects Chicano/as with the African American history of slavery -- have been elided or erased? Because, as Elizabeth Martinez writes in discussing primary and secondary school history texts, there has been a need to “sanitize” the official history of U.S. expansion and the California Gold Rush so that the nation’s history is about achievement: “conditioning students to identify with this nation’s policies, no matter how murderous”. 149 149 Martinez, Elizabeth. “Whose Chicano History Did You Learn?” De Colores Means All of Us: Latina Views for a Multicultural Century. Cambridge: MA: South End Press. 1998. (39) 112 Even following the revisions to United States history created by minority (and non-minority) U.S. historians in the civil rights and post- civil rights era, bias and the desire to only tell a positive story of the east settling the west still prevail. Just as there is a presumption that United States history begins in the east and moves west against and into a savage frontier, so is there a presumption that this expansion was inevitable and ultimately good. United States’ school children still are taught to see the California gold rushers as heroic adventurers claiming and building wealth in what is presented as an empty land, or one barely populated by gentle Spanish missionaries. Connecting western expansion and the settling of California with either race slavery or Native American genocide even now is to write against this “official” 150 version of California history. Resisting east to west frontier-ism, while at the same time ridiculing northeastern Transcendentalism, María Amparo Ruiz de Burton’s work makes clear 150 To those who might argue that there is much recent historical discussion of the destructiveness of the California gold rush, I would point out that the history approved to be taught in California elementary and high schools remains one which valorizes the miners and white settlers and elides or erases the violence and genocide from the official history. 113 the connection between U.S. imperialism, which expanded the western frontier, and issues of race, as her novel’s trajectory joins the west to the east and the north to the south. The novel’s time-span, too, covers the years of the addition of the western territories through the end of the Civil War. What remains absent from Who Would Have Thought It?, in addition to any mention of slavery, is the underpinning truth of the heroine’s “Indian” capture -- the fact that the Californios were themselves colonizers of the native Indians even before they were made into the colonized by the U.S. via the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. It is the paradox of this dialectic position of the Californio that creates difficulty in seeing Ruiz de Burton as either a subaltern or Chicano/a author. 151 In trying to position Ruiz de Burton as a Chicano/a author, critics demonstrate the rigidity of the category 151 This argument against the depiction of Ruiz de Burton as a subaltern and troubling her image as “Chicana” author is made by José Aranda in his American Literature article “Contradictory Impulses: María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, Resistance Theory, and the Politics of Chicano/a Studies” 70.3 1998 (551-79). 114 “Chicano.” Her inclusion or exclusion questions the construction of both Chicana literature and what is meant by “resistance.” By opening her novel in the supposedly civilized and sophisticated northeast on the eve of of the Civil War, but then flashing back to the U.S. / Mexican war, she highlights the shadow created by the decades of conflict and chaos in the west and southwest. This was a period of cultural and social disorder in the United States. The social disorder was caused not only by conflict over slavery, but also by the upheaval created by the imperialism of the United States as it absorbed western lands, wealth and (far more reluctantly) peoples. As the novel’s characters attitudes toward Lola reflect, the United States at this time was struggling with how, or indeed whether, to incorporate former Mexicans citizens -- those supposedly now to be considered Mexican Americans or Chicanos -- into its body, and trying to determine what their status as “citizens” would be. What Ruiz de Burton’s text reveals is the degree to which it was easy to see the land and wealth claimed under the treaty, while erasing the people. 115 “Three Thousand Miles Nearer To Hell”: The California Gold Rush in Eastern Imagination January, 1859 The rush for California from the United States is described as being immense. No less than three steamers, each filled with passengers, left New York for the golden land a few days before the last mail for England.... It is calculated that there are at present 300 ships in the Bay of San Francisco, mostly without crews; that 500 vessels have sailed from the United States for California.... that these vessels have conveyed 50,000 passengers; and that 50,000 more have gone by land, making 100,000 in all. 152 When he looked out from the northeast toward the southwest, and specifically toward California, American Transcendentalist writer Henry David Thoreau wrote with dismay about the stampede settlement of California during the gold rush. He saw the gold rush as avarice, representing both industrial and pre-industrial capitalist evil. Thoreau’s westward gaze toward a symbolic (for he never saw the actual) California looked upon a vision of pure greed: what he called the “greatest disgrace of mankind.” Writing in his journal in February 1852, six years after he had famously gone to jail rather 152 Charles Dickens, ed., Gold Rush: A Literary Exploration (San Francisco, CA: California Council for the Humanities, 1997). (294). 116 than pay tax to support the Mexican American War, and what he believed to be its goal of expanding slavery further west, Thoreau felt the California gold rush brought into question the virtues of the nation and the value of the American experiment itself. He wrote [T]he recent rush to California and the attitude of the world, even of its philosophers and prophets, in relation to it appears to me to reflect the greatest disgrace on mankind.... Of what significance the philosophy, or poetry, or religion of a world that will rush to the lottery of California gold- digging on the receipt of the first news, to live by luck, to get the means of commanding the labor of others less lucky, i.e., of slave holding, without contributing anything of value to society? [...] The philosophy and poetry and religion of such a mankind are not worth the dust of a puffball. The hog that roots his own living, and so makes manure would be ashamed of such company. [...] Going to California. It is only three thousand miles nearer to hell. [...] Satan from his elevations showed mankind the kingdom of California and they entered into a compact with him at once. 153 As Thoreau’s passionate denouncement demonstrates, the settling of the southwest, and especially the perceived easy money of the 1849 153 Henry David Thoreau and John C. Broderick, Journal, His the Writings of Henry D. Thoreau (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1981). 117 California gold rush, was generally viewed with dismay by the northeastern Transcendentalist writers. Safe and comfortable in their largely upper middle class landed wealth, they generally favored a somewhat Puritanical and conservative philosophy of communitarianism and self-restraint, and expressed caution at the accounts of frontier expansion and westward imperialism. 154 Ralph Waldo Emerson, looking back on the gold rush in his 1860 published essay “The Conduct of Life,” was more tempered in his criticism of the miners than Thoreau had been in his journals, but even so wrote the he “[did] not think very respectfully of the designs or the doings of those people who went to California in 1849.” 155 In addition to their wariness over the greed of the Gold Rush, some Transcendentalists writers and intellectuals had also long expressed sympathy for displaced (and, in the case of the California peoples, massacred) Native Americans, albeit in a paternalistic fashion. 154 Roderick Nash, Wilderness and the American Mind, 3rd ed. (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1982). 155 Ralph Waldo Emerson, Margaret Fuller and John Carlos Rowe, Selected Works: Essays, Poems, and Dispatches with Introduction, New Riverside Editions (Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin, 2003). 118 Probably the most famous example of this is a letter to written to President Martin Van Buren in 1838 by Emerson. At the prompting of his wife, family and friends, Emerson wrote protesting the displacement of the Cherokee nation from their own eastern lands and movement to others, west of the Mississippi, stating ...a crime is projected that confounds our understandings by its magnitude -- a crime that really deprives us as well as the Cherokees of a country; for how could we call the conspiracy that should crush these poor Indians our Government, or the land that was cursed by their parting and dying imprecations our country anymore? You, sir, will bring down that renowned chair in which you sit into infamy if your seal is set to this instrument of perfidy; and the name of this nation, hitherto the sweet omen of religion and liberty, will stink to the world. 156 There is, however, no like example of protest by Emerson against the systematic massacre of the western Native Americans. Yet the reality of the effect of the Gold Rush on the California Native American population was, by any measure, horrifying. Prior to the start of the Gold Rush, the Native American population in California “out 156 Emerson, Emerson's Antislavery Writings. (3) 119 numbered whites by approximately ten to one.” 157 This ratio changed very quickly in only a few decades: the population fell from one hundred thousand in 1850 to twenty thousand in 1870, finally dropping to just over seventeen hundred in 1900. 158 In his introductory essay to an anthology of writings on the California Gold Rush, Michael Kowalewski writes of the atrocities committed toward native Californians who were unfortunate enough to be in the way of white settlement or mining claims ...[many] of the richest mining regions, however, were in places of densest Indian population, so conflict and confrontation were inevitable. By the early 1850s, California Indians had been reduced to minority status in their own homeland, outnumbered by whites two to one. Communicable disease, malnutrition and starvation caused by the degradation of the natural resources all disrupted and in some cases exterminated California tribes. The rape of Indian women and forced concubinage were frequently reported in newspapers. County governments actually paid bounty hunters five dollars for each severed Indian head, and fifty cents a scalp. In 1854 alone the 157 Albert L. Hurtado, Indian Survival on the California Frontier, Yale Western Americana Series 35 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988). (100-124). 158 Tomás Almaguer, Racial Fault Lines : The Historical Origins of White Supremacy in California (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994). (130). 120 federal government reimbursed the state over a million dollars in expense claims from those who hunted Indians. 159 Though not directly critical of the decimation of the Native American tribes, Thoreau’s reference to the miner working and staking his claim during the Gold Rush as being on the same level as slave holding was the strongest censure that an abolitionist such as himself could give against those seeking their fortunes in California. Yet as a denouncement it resembled those who argued against slaveholding based on the evil its influence had over the slaveholder rather than the harm it did to the slaves themselves. As he looked to the west generally, and toward California specifically, from his home in the east, what Thoreau saw was a vision of Dante’s Inferno imposed on the territorial United States. Thoreau (and other American Transcendentalists) were not alone in seeing demonic imagery in the temptations of the California Gold Rush. The increase in California’s white population, in the words 159 Michael Kowalewski and California Council for the Humanities., Gold Rush : A Literary Exploration (Berkeley, Calif.: Heyday Books in conjunction with the California Council for the Humanities, 1997). (xix). 121 of J. S. Holliday the way the “world rushed in,” increasing the (white) population of California from roughly 13,000 when gold was discovered in 1848, to over 300,000 by 1854, seemed almost beyond comprehension. 160 The implications were disturbing to much of the then middle class in the settled eastern United States. Writing about the effect of the Gold Rush on the imaginations of the underclass in Europe, where large-scale immigration by impoverished and starving Irish evoked powerful feelings of xenophobia by many in the United States, one anonymous southern author wrote that the spell of modern civilization has evoked a devil, which it is powerless to lay, and which yields not to its exorcisms .... passion for gold [has made the immigrant] slave to the dollar... 161 160 J. S. Holliday and William Swain, The World Rushed In : The California Gold Rush Experience (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1981). 161 An anonymous author in an article titled “California Gold and European Revolution” in Southern Quarterly Review. See Michael Paul Rogin, Subversive Genealogy : The Politics and Art of Herman Melville (New York: Knopf, 1983). (104-105) and Eric Lott, Love and Theft : Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class, Race and American Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993). (169-170). 122 There was a collective sense among eastern (northern and southern) critics of the “gold rushers” that the wealth created by the Gold Rush was somehow both unfair and unnatural. Because of this belief that California’s gold and mineral wealth was itself unnatural, that same wealth could only be represented by uncanny images of the supernatural demonic. Thus we read of an “evoked devil,” or Thoreau’s reference to miners having made a Satanic compact. The truth, that those who were made wealthy by the Gold Rush had earned it by hard and back-breaking work (as well as their good luck and oppression of the native population), seems not to have been considered, perhaps because tales from California focused on easy money (which was seen as corrupting and likely to be spent rashly) rather than the labor involved in mining. It is curious (though perhaps not so much when one considers the elite class both sets of writers had in common) to find that opposition to the United States war with Mexico (1846-8) and the subsequent Gold Rush in California created something of a common cause between the slave-holding southern United States elite and intellectual abolitionist New England. 123 Despite her family’s personal financial struggles telling a different story, in Who Would Have Thought It?, Ruiz de Burton plays upon this popularized notion of California and the west having unnatural mineral wealth in such abundance that gold and gems could simply be plucked from the ground and rivers. Early in Who Would Have Thought It? as Dr. Norval recounts to his wife the source of Lola’s wealth, he tells Mrs Norval that, as a captive, Lola’s mother Doña Theresa had found “a rough pebble” 162 while bathing in a stream and recognized it as a diamond. Lola’s mother’s search, his wife is told while she sits fingering the rough gems, soon yielded still more gems and gold. According to the doctor, Theresa Medina had followed the little rivulet from which they [the gems] seemed to come down, and, following it, was led up to the side of a hill and down a ravine, where as if they had been washed thither by the rains, she found opals and larger diamonds. 163 Her Apache captors -- who were naturally too naive to recognize the stones’ value -- then observed that Doña Theresa liked “pretty 162 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (29). 163 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (29). 124 pebbles” and brought her the rough rubies and emeralds they found in order to please her. These pebbles, Dr. Norval tells his fascinated wife, were “first rate” diamonds, emeralds, rubies and opals which Theresa Medina had the knowledge to recognize. He adds that Lola’s mother had collected, along with the jewels, over a million dollars worth of raw gold, wealth that apparently was simply waiting on the ground to be found either by her or by natives too naive to understand their value. She collects it, not with any thought of making herself wealthy, but of buying freedom and social position for her daughter. The gold and gems, which contemporary writers argued had a demonic effect on the uneducated poor of Europe, are shown by Ruiz de Burton to have had little effect on Theresa Medina (whose only thoughts are for saving her daughter), but a huge effect on the seemingly restrained and religious Jemima Norval, despite her decidedly middle class status. When her husband shows her Lola’s gold hidden beneath the quartz in his specimen boxes, she is transformed from the proper, indulgent, New England wife who 125 “smiled” as her husband took out “some articles of clothing” and some “specimens of ores, very rough looking stones” into one whose ...soul was floating over those yellow, shining lumps of cold unfeeling metal. [...] as if obeying a natural impulse, she knelt by the chest and with childlike simplicity began to take pieces of gold and examine them attentively. [...] The sedate, severe, somber, serious lady of forty was a playful, laughing child again. 164 Ruiz de Burton plays with this assumption of wealth -- and especially gold -- somehow being corrupting those who are weaker and less educated, using the corrupting effect that Lola’s gold has on both Mrs. Norval and her minister, the Reverend Hackwell. Reading the writings on the Gold Rush, there was a clear sense of the gold of California conferring wealth too quickly and easily, without work (though it would be hard to read the accounts of life in the miners’ camps and believe this to be “easy” wealth), upon those who might not be deserving of it. Such easy wealth, in the opinions of the northeastern intellectual elite, would be bound to corrupt the souls of the poor and working class who came into contact with its taint. By demonstrating how Lola’s wealth corrupts the supposedly 164 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (29). 126 high-minded Jemima Norval and the minister Hackwell, who not only indulge in the material greed for “costly silks,” but are also both opened up to sexual immorality, Ruiz de Burton’s novel punctures this criticism by demonstrating that the greed for western wealth affects Yankees across class lines, including those of the virtuous Protestant middle class. 165 The problem created in bringing former Mexican citizens into the United States was not solely one of race, but also of religion. Following the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848, there was a widely held suspicion of what the addition of still more Catholics -- fear of the Spanish / Mexican citizens of the new western territories being added on top of the already suspect Irish arrivals in the coastal east -- would mean to the stability of the American republic. Shelley Streeby writes that 165 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (169). 127 [m]any nativists and anti-imperialists viewed both Mexicans and Irish Catholics as slaves to priestly and papal authority and as insufficiently independent to make good republican citizens. 166 This fear of Catholicism, and the danger those who held allegiance to a foreign power -- the Pope -- could be to the nation, had been further underlined by the defection of Irish troops during the war with Mexico. A story that demonstrates the layered conflict and loyalties of the United States war with Mexico involves the fate of U.S. Army deserters who were both Irish and Irish American. These Irish troops joined the Mexican Army as the Batallón San Patricio (Saint Patrick's Battalion), in response at least in part to taunting by Santa Ana. The Mexican general supposedly asked them why they were fighting for a government that was literally burning their churches back home in Boston. As a group, these soldiers, who were mostly Catholic Irish immigrants, rebelled against the abusive treatment of themselves by the Protestant, American-born officers above them, and also against 166 Streeby, American Sensations : Class, Empire, and the Production of Popular Culture. (16-17). 128 the treatment of the Catholic Mexican population by the U.S. Army, and switched sides to fight with the Mexican army. At this time in American history, Catholics of all ethnicities were an ill-treated minority, and the Irish themselves were an unwanted ethnic group in the United States, racialized as outside of whiteness. 167 Most of the battalion was killed in battle as they fought against the United States. In September 1847, the U.S. Army hanged the sixteen surviving members of the San Patricios as traitors. However, to this day, they are considered heroes in Mexico, who fought with valor for the people of their shared faith rather than for those of their adopted nation. Yet one of the more troubling aspects of Ruiz de Burton’s novel is her use of the stereotype of the Irish immigrant servants in the Norval household as “black,” with dark and unclean bodies in order to, by use of them as contrast (and showing 167 See Noel Ignatiev, How the Irish Became White (New York: Routledge, 1995). regarding the prejudice against Catholics which was one held by Transcendentalist writers, among others of their class in the Northeast. 129 her instinctive feelings of repulsion toward them), strengthen Lola’s claim to pure whiteness. 168 Despite the empty western vistas envisioned by manifest destiny, and the easterners in the United States who believed in that fiction, the southwest was, in fact, not a blank or undisturbed pastoral space merely waiting for acts of United States’ colonial expansion. By 1849, California had already experienced an invasion and settlement; there was by then an over one-hundred-year history of colonialism in the form of the Spanish, and then Mexican, conquest of the native peoples. The conversion and oppression by the peon system of labor (a form of sharecropping / slavery) of the native Californians (or indios as they were called by the Spanish) population has its own oppressive and often bloody history, one which is not recounted by Ruiz de Burton, although the captivity plot speaks indirectly to it by indicating the resistance of her fictional Apaches to the Spanish as well as to U.S. colonization. 168 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (31). 130 The California missions, with their Spanish imperialist social and religious agenda, date back to eighteenth century Spanish land grants. These were the means by which the Californios, who followed soon after the missionaries, created their “ranchero system” which was largely engaged in farming and cattle ranching, using the “indios” to provide cheap or even slave labor. This history of Spanish conquest is one which was elided by Ruiz de Burton’s romanticizing of the Californios, who are treated by her text(s) as the most natural residents of the southwest, erasing their oppression of the native peoples. Yet, even allowing for the absence of discussion of Spanish / Mexican colonialism, Ruiz de Burton’s writing is useful for the questions it can answer regarding visions of the southwest, and especially California. More specifically, Ruiz de Burton's text can be read as offering a view of how the 1840s Gold Rush, and subsequent eastern Anglo migration and settlement of California, was viewed by the Californios themselves -- those already, in Thoreau’s words, “three thousand miles nearer to hell.” Further, Who Would Have Thought It? 131 offers a vision of how the western Californios saw the eastern United States. This vision of the west looking at the east -- specifically westerners looking at the middle class northeast -- is evident in all of Ruiz de Burton’s novels. Her best known work, The Squatter and the Don, 169 published in 1885, is a fictional account of settlers from the east who claimed (or attempted to claim) land already belonging to the Californios. Though the work was a historical fiction, it was based on the Californios’ loss of property which Ruiz de Burton knew well from her personal and family experiences. Even at the time of the novel’s publication, this Californio perspective was little known; as a people, the “Spanish” Californios were already being swiftly forgotten, as they either merged back into the despised Mexican class or, in the case of the luckier “white Spanish” daughters, disappeared 169 The Squatter and the Don was first published in 1885 by Samuel Carson & Co., a San Francisco publisher. Ruiz de Burton wrote and published it under the pseudonym C. Loyal. 132 into Anglo U.S. society through intermarriage with the newly arrived eastern Yankees, as Ruiz de Burton’s own marriage demonstrated. 170 Little distinction was generally made by Anglos in the east between the different native western and Californian social groups, an error Ruiz de Burton voices through the ignorant and ‘lower class’ Mrs. Cackle (her name indicates that she is an unsympathetic character) in Who Would Have Thought It?. “Indians, Mexicans or Californians -- they are all horrid,” 171 says Mrs. Cackle, equating each with the other. Yet, as Jesse Alemán points out, Ruiz de Burton does not simply write about this “homogenization” of “Indians, Mexicans and Californians” as a list made in a random order, but rather in her naming she “recounts the order of conquest,” stemming from the “Anglo westward expansion,” offering her own vision of “Manifest 170 This latter situation, I discovered to my surprised discomfort, was the case in my own family -- my mother’s supposedly “pure” Anglo-Irish Californian background is actually mixed in with Californios whose racial / ethnic status was whitewashed out of our family history. This racial mix seemed especially ironic given the strong anti-Mexican prejudice my mother encountered from her family when she married my father. 171 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? 11. 133 Destiny as divine intervention.” 172 Thus, in this naming, Mrs. Cackle also reveals her author’s biases, as well as revealing those of the supposedly liberal northeast Ruiz de Burton was lampooning. Ruiz de Burton ascribed to a belief in a color hierarchy which placed “Indians,” and even “Mexicans,” beneath the Californios -- who were, in her depiction, “pure” Spanish / European. Mrs. Cackle’s words are to be disproved by the rest of the novel, however the sentiments point out that views of race among Anglos in the United States were binary -- there were whites and there were the darker others, primarily blacks. Indians were less visible as they, by 1870, had already vanished as far as the northeastern Anglo gaze was concerned. Each of these groups -- the Indians, the Mexicans and the Californians -- is depicted by Ruiz de Burton as distinct from the others, a distinction the character Mrs. Cackle is unable (or unwilling) 172 Jesse Alemán, "’Thank God, Lolita Is Away from Those Horrid Savages’: The Politics of Whiteness in Who Would Have Thought It?," María Amparo Ruiz De Burton: Critical and Pedagogical Perspectives, eds. Amelia Maria de la Luz Montes and Anne E. Goldman (Lincoln NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2004). (96) 134 to make. Californios are, in Ruiz de Burton’s depiction, whites darkened not by race or religion but by their erroneous depiction in Anglo press and popular culture. What is, of course, uncomfortable to the contemporary Chicano/a reader is the placement of the “Californios” distinctly apart from and above (in terms of both class and race) the indios. This distinction harkens not to a U.S. Anglo racial binary, but rather to a Mexican-Spanish 173 racial hierarchy which legally and socially placed those with shades of dark skin at the bottom and whites at the top, using gradations of color. 173 See Mexican color hierarchy: Jacques Lafaye, "Historical Differences: Caste Society in New Spain.," Artes de México: Nueva Epoca 8.Summer (1990). (81-88) 135 “With My Soul Enclosed in an Iron Cage”: La Chicana Looking East If my strength fails me... then I ask you not to judge me with severity. Remember that I am a woman... and mexican... with my soul enclosed in an iron cage. In this manner Society confines us as soon as we are born, like the Chinese and the feet of their women. 174 The desire of the Californios, represented by Ruiz de Burton, to be seen by Anglos as racially white, by being believed to be descended from Spanish Europe rather than from (or also from) the darker Mexicanos or Indians, was quite profound. When discussing the myth of the Californios and New Mexicans, Chicano scholar Raymund Paredes memorably dubs their imagined “pure” heritage, that is, the false supposition that there was white Spanish racial and ethnic purity kept somehow in the blood of the Californios and other 174 Ruiz de Burton, Conflicts of Interest : The Letters of María Amparo Ruiz De Burton. (248) 136 Mexican America elite, as the “hacienda syndrome.” 175 Paredes accurately points out this this belief itself is an expression of the internalized racism against the mestiza/o. One suspects that all of Ruiz de Burton’s novels would fit under Paredes’s “hacienda syndrome” classification as it is all based on the supposition that the Californios were not racially “other” but rather entirely white and European. Yet, as Sanchez and Pita discuss in their introduction to the 1995 edition of Who Would Have Thought It?, Ruiz de Burton’s images of race and her resistance to being “othered” by eastern Anglo society and culture may also be read as forms of resistance by the subaltern. 176 Viewed through this lens, then, the classification of themselves as “pure” European becomes a practical strategy deployed by Californios such as Ruiz de Burton in order to keep from having further rights and status stripped away by the Anglo Yankees. The 175 Raymund Paredes, "The Evolution of Chicano Literature.," Three American Literatures: Essays in Chicano, Native American, and Asian American Literature for Teachers of American Literature., ed. Houston A. Baker Jr. (New York: Modern Language Association Press, 1982). (33-79) 176 Sanchez, Rosaura and Beatrice Pita. “Introduction.” Ruiz de Burton, María Amparo. Who Would Have Thought It? (xvi-xxi). 137 need to do so was clear; their survival depended upon it. If a woman with the advantages held by Ruiz de Burton: education, an Anglo marriage, access to influential figures up to a United States’ President, was unable to hold onto her family’s land, it demonstrates the degree to which the Californios were being “frozen out” of power. Certainly, by the 1870s, the Californios had experienced a steady erosion of rights and seen their lands stripped from them by U.S. tax and property laws favoring an Anglo brand of whiteness and racial purity. If one accepts Sanchez and Pita’s argument in favor of the “pure Spanish” myth being a form of subaltern resistance, the question then becomes whether Californios themselves believed the myth or whether they knew it to be false but propagated it anyway as a form of differential resistance. It would be hard to refute the argument that this myth or fiction of Californio Spanish racial purity served an important strategic function for the elite Californio class. At the time, Californios were struggling to maintain themselves when they were under attack by a Yankee or Anglo form of whiteness. Being seen as mixed Native American blood or mestizo blood would 138 carry with it the loss of citizen status they might otherwise retain, especially given that land rights were sometimes kept via intermarriage with the Yankee newcomers. This is the situation depicted in Ruiz de Burton’s novel, The Squatter and the Don. Yet while it is valid in some respects to see the myth of Californio racial purity or hacienda syndrome as part of a conscious construction, rather than an expression of internalized racism, there is also danger in taking the differential resistance argument too far. Doing so indulges in falsely utopian view which sees pre-Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo greater Mexico as a place of racial equality and harmony, a construction as historically false as that of of pure European purity. The fact that the Spanish / Mexican view of race was less one based on a black and white binary and more based on a degree of color caste system 177 , where color could literally be lightened when coupled with wealth and political power does not make their racial view less racist. 177 Lafaye, "Historical Differences: Caste Society in New Spain.." (81 - 88). 139 As the story of the racial creation of los Mexicanos through the characterization of La Malinche or Doña Marina demonstrate, the Spanish conquest of the native Americans of Mexico was one of rape, betrayal and domination and the Mexicanos, including the Californios were children of that violation and rape. The history itself has become myth, no less so for being essentially true. The Aztec girl, La Malinche, variously known as Doña Marina, Malinali Tenepal and la Chingada, was, according to Arturo J. Aldama (who draws his story from several earlier authors’ sources 178 ) a young and brilliant linguist, sold into slavery as a child, [and] given to Hernán Cortés to solidify alliances against the Aztec state. However, Malinali, vulgarly known as la Chingada (the fucked one), is blamed for betraying or selling out the Mesoamerican peoples to the Spanish empire... to be called a malinchista is to be called a betrayer of people or a cause. 179 178 Aldama cites: Norma Alarcón, "Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Revision through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object," This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, ed. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa (New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981). Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza (San Fransisco, CA: Aunt Lute Books, 1987). 179 Arturo J. Aldama, Disrupting Savagism : Chicana/O, Mexican Immigrant, and Native American Struggles for Self-Representation, Latin America Otherwise (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001). 140 acting as his translator and concubine, she bore Cortes a son who, as the “first” child of both indio and European blood, is considered to be the first of the mestizo / Mexicano race. Ruiz de Burton’s fictional story of Doña Therese Medina’s (Lola’s mother) capture and Lola’s own origins, in Who Would Have Thought It? presents a very different image of Mexican womanhood then that the story of La Malinche -- an inversion of the origin myth. The story of Malinche, often retold to explain the mestiza of the los Mexicanos, is a story of the native daughter made captive by being sold to the Spaniard Cortes as his translator and consort. Cortes and Malinche’s children, mixtures of their parents’ European and native American blood, are the first of the new race of mestizos. La Malinche’s story has been recovered and re-imagined by Chicana and Mexicana feminists from the 1970s forward. However, in its traditional telling, the story of La Malinche (her name is translated by Octavo Paz as “the fucked one”) is told as the story of a traitor to her people who helped the enemy Spanish conquer the Mexico and willingly had his children. Malinche has long been reviled as the 141 “whore” image contrasted against the pure image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, the Dark Madonna. Ruiz de Burton offers a revised version of the rape and captivity story. In it Lola’s mother, Doña Theresa 180 Medina a “pure” Spanish noble woman, is captured by Apache Indians then sold to the chief of Mohave Indians. In contrast to Malinche, she holds true to her “pure” European origins by not giving birth to a mestizo son, but rather to Lola another pure white female, the child of her husband instead of her captive “born five months after her capture.” 181 Her virtue is first demonstrated to the doctor by the “white as snow” bedclothes even in the midst of her “miserable Indian hut.” 182 Further proof of Dona Theresa’s status as an unwilling rape victim rather than her captor’s consort or mistress is demonstrated by her never producing a child with her captor despite being held as his captive, 180 It is likely significant that the author has named the character of Lola’s mother after Saint Theresa, arguably the most famous female Spanish saint and Doctor of the Church. 181 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (28). 182 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (36). 142 and unwilling wife, for over a decade. In her dying letter to her father and husband Luis she writes At this the hour of my death [...] I forgive the horrible savages who inflicted on me the most terrible torture that the human soul can know -- the agony of living in degradation forever on earth. But I trust that with the hourly suffering of these ten long years I have purchased for my child, my husband, and my father, the happiness that was denied to me. [....] It is well I go now to a better world for how could I follow my child, or bear the sight of my Luis? Never! No! Shame would strike me dead at his feet never to rise again. 183 Because of her child, she does not commit suicide, but instead collects the gold and mineral wealth to save her daughter, dying only after Lola’s rescue is assured. While she “saves” her child Lola from life among the “horrible savages,” her choice for herself is death rather than returning disgraced to her family. Yet this choice makes her a saintly specter as her portrait looks down on them as if saying “Do not weep for me. Do not mourn. I am an angel now. I was always pure for my soul did not sin, although I was insulted by a savage. I was a martyr; now an angel. 184 183 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (202). 184 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (202). 143 Despite her unwilling violation, Theresa Medina remains pure, living selflessly only long enough to save her child. Her reaction is a contrast to Mrs. Norval’s response (maddness, to be cared for by Dr. Norval, her husband) at the discovery she had been living with the Reverend Hackwell in a false second marriage while her first husband was still alive. Darkness and Whiteness The Anglo view of race as a binary divided between blackness and whiteness rendered the Californios with their ambiguous racial and religious status, invisible. However, a contemporary difficulty of the attempt by the newly-made (dating from the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo) class of Mexican Americans to gain or even merely retain the privileges of whiteness by claiming European racial purity, is the degree to which it reveals the racial colonialism existing in the pre- Guadalupe Hidalgo southwest, albeit of a Mexican / Spanish rather than Anglo North American flavor. Native Americans and African Americans are (along with lower status whites such as the Irish) depicted by Ruiz de Burton as both inferior and “other” to the white 144 elite. Their inferiority is used to demonstrate how clearly superior to each group Lola Medina is, while she is demonstrates her moral and “natural” superiority to shallow whites such as Mrs. Norval. As the novel progresses, Mrs. Norval, and her daughters repeatedly speculate regarding Lola’s racial background and parentage, questioning whether she is “Indian, negro or both.” This background which the daughter, Ruth, says “any one can see that much of her history” is, in their opinion clearly inscribed on Lola’s body by the black color of her skin. Yet, in a revelation whereby the novel becomes a form of a reverse passing narrative with the character of Lola as a white passing as ‘Indian’ or negro, Dr. Norval replies, “And those who saw that much would be mistaken or fools.” 185 Her blackness, rather than being visual evidence of her race, is instead caused by a mysterious dye she and her mother were forced to wear by their captors in order to prevent their detection and rescue. 185 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (17). 145 The family’s reactions reveal a horrified fascination with Lola’s seeming blackness. Upon seeing her, Mattie Norval exclaims “Goodness! what a specimen! A nigger girl!.” Her mother questions the child’s humanity in a discussion that seems to harken to the exhibition fifty years earlier of Sarah "Saartjie" Baartman, (the so- called Hottentot Venus) theorizing that her husband, a geologist, “having exhausted the mineral kingdom is about to begin with the animal, and this is our first specimen,” a discussion continued by her other daughter, Ruth Norval who follows up by saying “[t]he next specimen will be a baboon [...] for papa’s samples don’t improve. An exchange in a later chapter reveals more of what this Yankee abolitionist family thinks of non-whites: ‘Indians are as proud and surly as they are treacherous,’ observed Lavinia. ‘ I suppose she is a mixture of Indian and negro.’ ‘Your supposition, being very sagacious and kind does honor to your head and heart, but it happens that this child has no more Indian or negro blood then you or I have,’ said the doctor testily, evidently losing his patience. 186 186 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (21). 146 Paradoxically, just as the novel seems to demonstrate what the easterner sees when it gazes west but actually reveals what a western gazer (Ruiz de Burton) saw when she looked at the east, so does it, while seeming to show what a white gaze (Mrs. Norval) sees when looking at the supposed non-white face of Lola, reveal the contempt Ruiz de Burton appears to have felt for the northeastern whites whom she lived among. Moral judgement on the refinement of Yankee whites is made based on the character’s behavior toward Lola and their ability to see her “true” racial status and therefore her beauty. While Lola’s whiteness is seen and believed in by Dr. Norval (and, we are later told, by Lola’s eventual love interest, the Norval’s son, Julian) from the novel’s beginning, the length of time it takes various characters to see / believe in Lola’s “purity” and whiteness is used by the author as a barometer to demonstrate their intelligence and morality. In doing this Ruiz de Burton makes the case for the superiority of whiteness, she “galvanize[s] the color line [and...] makes a startling 147 case for white prerogative”. 187 Whiteness, as Ruiz de Burton depicts it, is an issue of natural grace, manners and morality -- something which she does not depict the majority of the white easterners as understanding. However, Ruiz de Burton complicates her main character’s racial picture still further, with more than just the “evidence” of darkness in Lola’s dyed skin. Lola’s complexion also colored or stained dark, in the eyes of her foster family, because of her Catholic religion. Her Catholicism codes Lola “other” by more than merely her dyed skin in the northeastern Yankee world. Part of the promise Dr. Norval made to Lola’s mother was to swear to see the child baptized and educated as a Catholic. He lays aside this promise for a year (notably this was the only year of Lola’s stay with his family that he is at home), though he has still kept up another part of his promise in that he has ensured that Lola is already being educated with 187 Pascha A. Stevenson, "Reader Expectations and Ethnic Rhetorics: The Problem of the Passing Subaltern in Who Would Have Thought It?," Ethic Studies Review 28.2 (2005). 148 lessons in both French and Spanish. 188 While Mr. Norval claims to have been reminded of his promise because of a sermon given by the “smart rogue” Mr. Hackswell a minister and one of the novel’s villains at his wife and his unnamed Protestant church. He stated that the sermon reminded him via the minister’s “hackneyed” theme of the sublime love of religious freedom which made the Pilgrim fathers abandon home, civilization and friends to come to a comfortless wilderness to encounter horrible savages and privations of all kinds, all for the sake of that one thing dearer to them then all else, viz., “FREEDOM OF OPINION,” which is the “individual liberty of the soul.” 189 With this passage, which Mr. Norval takes in the opposite direction than the minister intended, Ruiz de Burton snidely ridicules the vaulted U.S. “freedom of religion” and even the “freedom of thought.” She does so by pointing out the hypocrisy of the religious prejudices of northeastern intellectual class. Yet the author does not do this in order to dispute the value of either freedom of thought or religion, as the conclusion of the same chapter demonstrates, but to point out 188 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (63). 189 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (63-64). 149 that these supposed “freedoms” do not actually encompass (for most people) freedom for those religions and opinions which are despised, but only the beliefs that are popularly held. Indeed, as much as the novel emphasizes that Lola’s perceived racial darkness as a reason for Mrs. Norval’s prejudice against the girl, it is only presented as a single reason. The case for, or rather the author’s case against, Mrs. Norval’s religious prejudice is made still more strongly. Religion and religious prejudice is a major motivator of Mrs. Norval’s actions throughout the text and her desire for approval from her religious community is presented as extremely important. Mrs. Norvell’s religious feelings are lead her into her love affair with Reverend Hackwell, her minister. This affair, the reader is told is caused in part by his ability to appeal to her religious prejudices and intolerance [w]hen that one passion --her love for Hackwell-- was beyond her mastery, all her other imps ran riot in bacchanalian fashion.... How insidiously that love had crept into her heart! Slowly, stealthily, through the only avenue that was accessible -- her dark bigotry and blind prejudices. Because Hackwell was in her opinion a very strict Presbyterian minister of 150 the “old school,” a good hater of all other sects -- particularly of popery (he said) --she began to like him. 190 As much as Lola’s dark skin makes her “other” in the eyes of Mrs. Norval, her religion also darkens and sets her apart from northeastern Protestant society. By insisting that Lola be educated as a Catholic, according to her mother’s wishes, Dr. Norval “darkens” the child even as the dye fades from her skin. Fear of Catholicism is presented as an ongoing and irrational prejudice throughout Who Would Have Thought It?. Early in the text the reader learns from Mrs. Cackle via an ironic recounting from Reverend Hackwell that the Norval’s son, Julian has been brought home from Europe by his mother because of concerns over foreign influence, specifically that he might have become a “Roman Catholic.” 191 Likewise, Issac Sprig (Mrs. Norval’s brother) is a “scapegrace” in part because of his liking of foreign wines, but also because he “went often to the theater, and also to hear the singing 190 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (136). 191 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (11). 151 of the Catholic Church.” 192 Later in the novel, when discussing with her husband her fears that Julian has become too attached to Lola (and has lost affection for Emma Hackwell, sister of her beloved minister in the process), Mrs. Norval concludes her remarks with the comment “...I hate foreigners and papists.” 193 Indeed it would seem that even Lola’s wealth and whitening skin cannot overcome the darkness her religion casts over her. Julian a positive character, like his father and uncle, meets the nuns in charge of the convent where Lola is being educated, and is presented as having no problems with Catholicism. Because Ruiz de Burton’s writing makes the case for both the acceptance of Catholicism and the whiteness of “Spanish” Californios such as Lola and her mother, she finds she must participate in the darkening / villianizing of the lower class Irish workers. She also seems to take issue with the Northern cause altogether, writing of Mrs. Cackle 192 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (55). 193 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (93). 152 [...] as she was a good American woman, she believed firmly in “MANIFEST DESTINY,” and that the Lord was bound to protect the Union, even if to do so the affairs of the rest of the universe were to be laid aside for the time being. [...] The war was the best thing that could have happened, for, besides setting the negroes free and chastising their owners, had it not made two of her sons distinguished congressmen and the other two renowned generals....[she] told her daughters that Lavvy Sprig was a silly thing to be crying because so many poor fellows died in the hospitals and so many returned prisoners came back mutilated and looking like skeletons. 194 Much, of course, has been written about the “darkness” of the Irish in the United States during the nineteenth century. Ruiz de Burton’s novel seems to buy into that popular view of the Irish as inferior to “whites” of the period. Lola’s quiet grace and manners are contrasted to the roughness of the Irish servants. 194 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (159). 153 Chicana Images of Race, Purity and the Mestiza “I thought Mrs. Norval objected to let Lola come, on account of those spots she has on her skin,” said Miss Lucretia Cackle[....] “Emma Hackwell told me that her brother thinks Lola must belong to a tribe of Mexican Indians called ‘Pintos’ who are spotted,” said Artemisia. [...] Mrs. Norval remarked that she had not heard lately whether the spots had disappeared, but she hoped they had, and Lola might be now all black or all white, only not with those ugly white spots. 195 The suspect purity of Lola’s supposedly Spanish / European blood is mentioned often in Who Would Have Thought It? 196 in order to both question and reinforce the heroine’s (and one might argue Ruiz de Burton’s own) whiteness. However, issues of whiteness and purity are not presented as simply racial ones, even while the question of Lola’s whiteness is a central issue of the novel. As part 195 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (78). 196 In these repeated assertions affirming Lola Medina’s racial purity, the text is similar to James Fenimore Cooper’s character of Hawk-eye / Natty Bumppo in Last of the Mohicans. 154 of and beyond that question, though, the subject of Lola’s “purity” is one which examines her (and her mother’s) supposed virtue along with her race. The issues of racial purity and moral virtue become intertwined by the novel. If Lola, who is presented as an idealized image of virtue and womanhood at the unfortunate cost of her being void of personality, is not “pure” European, then she and her mother have been tainted by the sexual depravity of Theresa Medina’s captivity. Under these circumstances, the novel’s romance would fail -- in Ruiz de Burton’s world a racially othered Lola could never be worthy of marriage to Julian Norval, the novel’s white son / hero. The reader is told early on in the novel of Lola’s mother’s captivity and her status -- the degradation she has suffered as the unwilling wife of the Indian chief who held both mother and daughter -- a disgrace so profound in her own eyes that the only wish of Theresa Medina is to save her daughter from her own fate (that of being made “wife” of one of the Indians whom she calls “those horrid savages” 197 ) and then to simply “lie down and die.” 198 When Dr. 197 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (36). 155 Norval promises Theresa Medina that he will help get her back to her family, Lola’s mother protests that “she did not wish to see her family now, after ten years of such a life as had been forced upon her.” 199 Following this admission, Ruiz de Burton seems obliged to make it clear that Lola Medina -- unlike her mother, whose shame forces Theresa Medina to will herself dead in order to remove the stain of her disgrace -- remained ‘pure’ in the double sense of being both sexually unsullied and racially unmixed despite her captivity. Lola was born five months after her mother’s capture, and is the daughter of her mother’s European husband rather than her native captor. The darkness of her skin is dye she and her mother were forced to adopt as a disguise, one which fades (with remarkable slowness) over the course of Lola’s next eight years in the northeast. Ruiz de Burton makes doubly sure of the girl’s virtue by giving Lola’s age at the time of her rescue as only ten. Readers are intended to presume a child 198 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (35). 199 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (35). 156 so young could not have been raped or seduced by the Indian captors. The fate of a woman whose racial position is mixed or ambiguous is told through the character of the quadroon character Lucinda. Lucinda is introduced as a “lady of the demimonde,” a nineteenth-century term for women who do not conform to the society’s standards of sexual morality and who live on the fringes of that society. By calling her this, Ruiz de Burton is indicating that Lucinda was a mistress or prostitute. She is also Isaac’s landlady and the cause of Isaac’s falling out with a member of Congress. 200 Her beauty is a source of disruption and conflict as men, in fact, fight over her whenever her character is mentioned. Lucinda’s sexual position / morality is explained by her racial class of “quadroon belle,” one which denies her entry into the white civilized social class (despite her being mistress to a member of Congress) which would make her morally unable to maintain this ambiguous position. 200 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (58-59). 157 The difficulties characters such as Mrs. Norval have assigning Lola’s race are also questions touched by class. This construction of “race,” which combines class, religion and wealth, harkens to the Spanish / Mexican views of race where money and status were capable of “whitening” those “darkened” by mixed blood. 201 Indeed, as Alemán remarks, “the richer Lola gets, the whiter she gets” 202 making one wonder about the reverse anxiety that Ruiz de Burton might have experienced as she feared being “darkened” by poverty after her husband’s death. The enormous mineral wealth which Lola’s mother left with Dr. Norval to provide for her daughter’s care brings out feelings of resentment and avarice in Mrs. Norval who feels the dark child’s wealth is (perhaps like Lola herself) somehow unfair and unnatural. Dr. Norval feeds this by reminding his wife repeatedly 201 Anne E. Goldman, "’Who Ever Heard of a Blue-Eyed Mexican?’: Satire and Sentimentality in María Amparo Ruiz De Burton’s Who Would Have Thought It?," Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, eds. Erlinda Gonzalez-Berry and Chuck Tatum, vol. 2 (Houston, TX: Arte Publico Press, 1996). 202 Jesse Alemán, "The Cultural Work of Maria Amparo Ruiz De Burton's Novels," Complicating Constructions: Race, Ethnicity, and Hybridity in American Texts, eds. David S. Goldstein and Audrey B. Thacker (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2007). (11) 158 throughout the novel that Lola is far wealthier then they are or then their own children will be. Further, what wealth the family gains in the novel comes from his investment of Lola’s money. The jewels he gives her and their daughters, attractive though they might be, are made from the left overs from the cuttings left from the grand jewels the doctor has commissioned for Lola. For Mrs. Norval, Lola Medina’s uncanny wealth only makes the unsettled racial questions of Lola’s blood status more troubling. Early in the novel, while Lola is still only ten years old, Mrs. Norval brings up the girl’s marriage prospects by asking her husband “Have you thought that Julian or brother Isaac might take a fancy to Lola?” 203 Lola is a more attractive partner for her son Julian at the start of the novel, when Mrs. Norval sees Lola as being possibly a wealthy ‘negro’ or ‘Indian’ child despite her being, in the words of the narrator ...decidedly too black and too young for Julian Norval to take a fancy to her, whilst she, the poor lonely little soul, idolized Julian, and in her heart she couldn’t compare the handsome boy to anything but an archangel. 204 203 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (27). 204 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (51). 159 Conversely, Lola is less attractive to Mrs. Norvel as her skin lightens, as she appears more and more white. Later in the novel, Julian becomes more attracted to the whiter fifteen year old Lola. Disturbed by this prospect and wanting Julian to marry Hackwell’s sister, Mrs. Norval lays the issue before her husband commenting that the match of Julian and Lola “won’t do.” In reply, her husband reminds his wife that she had been the first to think that Lola would be a good match, and that, too, when she was dark and young, and when no one could be sure she would grow up to be so beautiful. 205 Mrs. Norval’s reply is frank, stating that her husband is being “provoking” and that the only reason she had said such a thing was that they “were poor then.” Now that the Norval’s clearly have wealth (created largely from the investment of Lola’s fortune) she says “there is no reason why Julian should not marry one of his own race and religion.” 206 205 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (92). 206 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (92). 160 Yet for all his proclaiming his belief in Lola’s purity and whiteness, the doctor expresses (at least internally) pleasure and relief as Lola’s skin whitens. This is demonstrated when Dr. Norval sees Lola following her time in the convent boarding school where he had placed her ...his kind heart beat with pleasure. The unfortunate spots had almost entirely disappeared; Lola’s skin was white and smooth, and she was very pretty. Still there were some spots yet on her neck and arms, though almost imperceptible, and he feared that Mrs. N. would insist on regarding them as some sort of cutaneous disease. 207 For the doctor, Lola’s whiteness is connected with her beauty. At the same time he acknowledges her whiteness, he notes that Lola’s skin is still marked by spots of darkness which he rightly fears will be used by his wife against Lola’s inclusion in their family. Denied by her husband (who has staked his honor on Lola’s being pure white) the right to see Lola’s skin as colored by race, the dye wearing off the girl becomes to Mrs. Norval a mark of disease. Although she has 207 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (79). 161 been told that Lola’s skin had been dyed and that it in time would wear off, Mrs. Norval comments that ‘[B]ut as the doctor says she is not an Indian, then those ugly spots can't be accounted for, except on theory that they are some disease,’ said Mrs. Norval, coming in and joining the conversation. ‘with all due respect to the doctor, it seems clear, as you say, that the child is either of the Pinto tribe, or her spots are a disease,’ Mrs. Cackle averred, as she always did in support of any opinion of Mrs. Norval’s. 208 The whiteness and color of Lola’s skin not only marks her race as other than white (the other women muse she has some sort of Indian skin condition) but also as a sign Lola has some sort of contagious illness which could infect the purity of the white Norvals. Yet ultimately it is Lola’s wealth which infects Mrs. Norval, causing her to abandon her principles and leaves her vulnerable to sexual manipulation by the Reverend Hackwell while Lola (and her mother before her) are able to see the wealth as a means to whiteness and virtue without being tainted by Yankee greed. 208 Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It? (78). 162 Conclusion: Race and Recovery These questions about Lola and her mother’s blood purity and Ruiz de Burton’s presentation of her / their race and Spanish or European status, harken back to an uncomfortable and unresolved conversation with my great-aunt regarding this dissertation project as well as my larger area of research. One afternoon, as I tried to explain my thesis and views on Chicano/a studies to her, my great- aunt corrected me several times, whenever I used the term “Chicana” contrasted against the term “white.” This could not be right, she told me and insisted that, at least when I was speaking to her, I substitute the term “Anglo” for “white” to make the oppositional pairing acceptable to her. When I asked her why she felt this change was needed, 209 my aunt reminded me that Chicanos are themselves white, or that at least the ones in our family and others like us are white. Therefore, she pointed out, the term “Chicanos” cannot be set opposed to the term “whites” in America -- the correct pairing was 209 At first I mistakenly thought that her objection to my use of “white” was linguistic -- that because “Chicana/o” are gendered terms, my great aunt felt the need for the use of a like gendered one, “Anglo/a” in order to express whiteness. 163 “Chicano / Anglo”. While I spent some time arguing the obvious evidence to the contrary --Chicanos are not viewed as white by those she would call “Anglos” and further, our features and the very color of our skin would argue against such a claim of “Spanish” racial purity-- I could not sway her, indeed, my points seemed to be heard by my aunt as insults. My respect for her and her beliefs tempered my response and I finally ended up uncomfortably changing the subject and feeling like a coward at my retreat. Thinking about it afterward, I realized that my Chicana great aunt’s denial of her own native Indian / indio ancestry, a past which is literally inscribed in and on our bodies in the form of color and features, coupled with her insistence on our having descended from “pure Spanish blood” made me uncomfortable in the same way that my work and the work of others in recovering of Ruiz de Burton’s novel as a Chicana text does. This “Spanish blood purity” myth represents a form of internal prejudice within Latino society against darkness, what Norma Alarcón writes of as “the historical repression 164 of the ‘non-civilized dark woman.” 210 Ruiz de Burton’s beliefs, like my great aunt’s, are antithetical to the post-1960s and contemporary Chicano/a movement but are nonetheless part of our culture and history. Can those, like my great aunt or Ruiz de Burton, who deny the indio even be called ‘Chicano/a’ or are they forever denied within the idealized Aztlán? Of course one might argue they have no desire to be part of a Chicano nation, be that nation real or metaphoric, however I am not sure that is the case. 211 The construction of “chicano,” with its emphasis on the mestizo/a, seems on some levels to deny that someone holding my aunt’s beliefs can really be considered a Chicana. If they cannot, if I deny my great aunt is Chicana despite her being the bilingual child of Mexican immigrants, who has lived most of her life in her parents house in East Los Angeles, because of her ‘pure Spanish blood’ belief 210 Norma Alarcón, "Chicana Feminism: In the Tracts of ‘the’ Native Woman," Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State, eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999). (69) 211 For example, my eighty-something year old great aunt identifies as “Chicana” which she defines as being “born in the United States of Mexican parents.” 165 in our family’s whiteness, then by what right do I, as the middle class, English-only child of my Mexican American father and Anglo mother, raised in mostly white West Los Angeles, claim for myself the identity of Chicana? Likewise, if Ruiz de Burton’s works are not called early Chicana novels because of the discomfort contemporary readers feel at implications of Lola’s “passing” and the author’s views on whiteness and “purity,” then it would seem that we are imposing a purity test of our own. This issue of ‘purity,’ of who is white and who is not is so uncomfortable as to make discussion of the subject difficult even more than one hundred years after Ruiz de Burton’s novel’s publication. Yet, at least in part, this very discomfort, the fact that de Burton’s novel does not represent contemporary Chicano studies views on race, makes Who Would Have Thought It? so interesting. As Pascha Stevenson writes of value of the discomfort created by what she calls the “racial bargaining” over Lola’s status in Who Would Have Thought It?: 166 The very disturbing nature of the racial bargaining in which Ruiz de Burton participates compels us to problematize the tired conceptualization of ethnic rhetoric as the gesture of the subaltern. In short, sometimes ethnic voices are elitist, powerful, mean, racist, sexist, as well as loving, noble, disenfranchised, hurt, victimized and so forth. A real appreciation for the complexity of this picture is vital to the total humanization of persons of color. 212 Thus, according to Stevenson, the problems readers such as myself find with Ruiz de Burton’s attitude toward issues of whiteness, and indeed with her text itself are due to our own desire for heroic or valorized Chicana authors. And indeed, when one considers that the difficulties faced by Ruiz de Burton as a Mexican American woman and nineteenth century author, what seems remarkable is that she was able to publish at all. For all that I want to agree with Stevenson’s comment and simply participate and celebrate the recovery of Ruiz de Burton as a Chicano/a author, there is a part of me that feels obligated to argue against it, that would perversely seem to disagree with the recovery of this novel. Because if Who Would Have Thought It? is an early 212 Stevenson, "Reader Expectations and Ethnic Rhetorics: The Problem of the Passing Subaltern in Who Would Have Thought It?." (61-76). 167 Chicana/o novel, if María Amparo Ruiz de Burton is a “Chicana fore madre,’ then it would seem to lay bare the history of racism against darkness, against the black and the indio, that shame that lies only just beneath the surface in both sides of my own family’s American success story. The novel, in its attempt to reclaim whiteness for de Burton’s own class of Californios, expresses sympathy with Southern slave-holding, seems to agree with the stereotypes of crudeness and vulgarity expressed about the Irish in the Northeast and ridicules the abolitionists as hypocrites. The novel expresses sympathy with the South, if not with slave-holding itself and, indeed, was first published by a Northern press J.B. Lippincott which less than twenty years earlier, in 1856 had published a pro-slavery treatise by A. T. Bledsoe, An Essay on Liberty and Slavery. 213 If the text Who Would Have Thought It? is to be reclaimed, as it clearly has been and is being reclaimed, this must be with an eye toward an examination of these flaws as well as strengths, a thorough 213 Albert Taylor Bledsoe and Making of America Project., An Essay on Liberty and Slavery, (Philadelphia,: J.B. Lippincott & Co., 1856), <http://uclibs.org/PID/25361>. 168 and honest view of them, assisting in discussions of the problems of race and class in Chicano/a history and studies. To do otherwise would both deny the complexity of the author and novel and also apply our own layers of whitewash to Ruiz de Burton’s image. 169 Chapter 2: Bibliography Alarcón, Norma. "Chicana Feminism: In the Tracts of ‘the’ Native Woman." Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State. Eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999. ---. "Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Revison through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object." This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Ed. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Aldama, Arturo J. Disrupting Savagism : Chicana/O, Mexican Immigrant, and Native American Struggles for Self- Representation. Latin America Otherwise. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001. Alemán, Jesse. "’Thank God, Lolita Is Away from Those Horrid Savages’: The Politics of Whiteness in Who Would Have Thought It?" María Amparo Ruiz De Burton: Critical and Pedagogical Perspectives. Eds. Amelia Maria de la Luz Montes and Anne E. Goldman. Lincoln NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2004. ---. "The Cultural Work of Maria Amparo Ruiz De Burton's Novels." Complicating Constructions: Race, Ethnicity, and Hybridity in American Texts. Eds. David S. Goldstein and Audrey B. Thacker. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2007. Almaguer, Tomás. Racial Fault Lines : The Historical Origins of White Supremacy in California. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994. 170 Anzaldúa, Gloria. Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza. San Fransisco, CA: Aunt Lute Books, 1987. Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. London ; New York: Routledge, 1994. Bledsoe, Albert Taylor, and Making of America Project. "An Essay on Liberty and Slavery." 1856. J.B. Lippincott & Co. <http://uclibs.org/PID/25361>. Dickens, Charles, ed. Gold Rush: A Literary Exploration. San Francisco, CA: California Council for the Humanities, 1997. Emerson, Ralph Waldo. Emerson's Antislavery Writings. Eds. Len Gougeon and Joel Myerson. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, Margaret Fuller, and John Carlos Rowe. Selected Works: Essays, Poems, and Dispatches with Introduction. New Riverside Editions. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin, 2003. Fisher, Beth. "The Captive Mexicana and the Desiring Bourgeois Woman: Domesticity and Expansionism in Ruiz De Burton’s Who Would Have Thought It?" Legacy 16.1 (1999). Goldman, Anne E. "’Who Ever Heard of a Blue-Eyed Mexican?’: Satire and Sentimentality in María Amparo Ruiz De Burton’s Who Would Have Thought It?" Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage. Eds. Erlinda Gonzalez-Berry and Chuck Tatum. Vol. 2. Houston, TX: Arte Publico Press, 1996. Harrold, Stanley. The Rise of Aggressive Abolitionism: Addresses to the Slaves. Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky, 2004. 171 Holliday, J. S., and William Swain. The World Rushed In : The California Gold Rush Experience. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1981. Hurtado, Albert L. Indian Survival on the California Frontier. Yale Western Americana Series 35. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988. Ignatiev, Noel. How the Irish Became White. New York: Routledge, 1995. Kowalewski, Michael, and California Council for the Humanities. Gold Rush : A Literary Exploration. Berkeley, Calif.: Heyday Books in conjunction with the California Council for the Humanities, 1997. Lafaye, Jacques. "Historical Differences: Caste Society in New Spain." Artes de México: Nueva Epoca 8.Summer (1990): 81-88. Limon, José. American Encounters: Greater Mexico, the United States, and the Erotics of Culture. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1998. Lott, Eric. Love and Theft : Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class. Race and American Culture. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Martín-Rodríguez, Manuel M. Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature. 1st ed. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003. McCullough, Kate. Regions of Identity : The Construction of America in Women's Fiction, 1885-1914. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1999. Nash, Roderick. Wilderness and the American Mind. 3rd ed. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1982. 172 Padilla, Genaro M. My History, Not Yours : The Formation of Mexican American Autobiography. Wisconsin Studies in American Autobiography. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1993. Paredes, Raymund. "The Evolution of Chicano Literature." Three American Literatures: Essays in Chicano, Native American, and Asian American Literature for Teachers of American Literature. Ed. Houston A. Baker Jr. New York: Modern Language Association Press, 1982. 33-79. Pérez, Emma. The Decolonial Imaginary: Writing Chicanas into History. Bloomington, IN: University of Indiana Press, 1995. Perez, Laura Elisa. "El Disorden, Nationalisms and Chicano/a Aesthetics." Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State. Eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999. Perez-Torres, Rafael. Movements in Chicano Poetry: Against Myths, against Margins. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Rogin, Michael Paul. Subversive Genealogy : The Politics and Art of Herman Melville. New York: Knopf, 1983. Ruiz de Burton, María Amparo. Conflicts of Interest : The Letters of María Amparo Ruiz De Burton. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 2001. ---. The Squatter and the Don. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. 2nd ed. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1997. ---. Who Would Have Thought It? Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1995. 173 Stevenson, Pascha A. "Reader Expectations and Ethnic Rhetorics: The Problem of the Passing Subaltern in Who Would Have Thought It?" Ethic Studies Review 28.2 (2005): 15. Streeby, Shelley. American Sensations : Class, Empire, and the Production of Popular Culture. American Crossroads 9. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002. Thoreau, Henry David, and John C. Broderick. Journal. His the Writings of Henry D. Thoreau. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1981. 174 Chapter 3 Textual Community and the Anthology The female Greek, of our day, is as much in the street as the male to cry, "What news?" We doubt not it was the same in Athens of old. The women, shut out from the market- place, made up for it at the religious festivals. For human beings are not so constituted that they can live without expansion. If they do not get it in one way, they must in another, or perish. 214 [...] Anglo women can move about more freely, but they have been stifled intellectually. Chicanas may not travel from one end of the country to the other, but their minds and intellects have been free. [...] In other words, we feel we are progressing from a more advanced state than other women in other cultures toward a full development of women. 215 214 Margaret Fuller, Woman in the Nineteenth Century (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1980). 215 Marta P. Cotera, The Chicana Feminist (Austin, TX: Information System Development, 1977). (9) [Note: This article was previously published in the journal El Magazín, vol. 1, no. 9, September 1973.] 175 Some texts do not simply recount or make public the ideas of a community; instead, these texts can come to reflect and define the community itself. Such was the case with the Transcendentalist publication The Dial, 216 originally edited by Margaret Fuller, and subsequently by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Though it was published for only three years, from 1842 to 1844, the publication is central to defining who was and who was not part of the movement. The Dial was, as Philip F. Guna writes, the “Transcendentalists’ house organ.” 217 It came to define the American Transcendentalist movement itself, while participating in the movement’s larger project of defining and changing the emerging thought and literature of the United States. The idea for The Dial was conceived during a 1839 meeting of the Transcendentalist Society in Concord, Massachusetts. The publication of the magazine was suggested at one of these meetings by Bronson Alcott, the founder of the utopian community, Fruitlands. 216 Margaret Fuller, Ralph Waldo Emerson and George Ripley, "The Dial: A Magazine for Literature, Philosophy, and Religion," (Boston: Weeks, Wiley and Putnam, 1840), 4 vols. 217 Philip F. Gura, American Transcendentalism : A History, 1st ed. (New York: Hill and Wang, 2007). (xi) 176 Alcott contributed a number of articles during its years of publication. Emerson and Fuller had already been published prior to the start of The Dial through various presses and publications in both the United States and Europe, especially Britain and Germany, and most notably the British journal The Edinburgh Review, which was quite receptive to the writings of the Concord group. These international connections were important, especially given the Transcendentalists’ social and philosophical resistance to the growing insularity and industrial materialism of the United States in the nineteenth century. In addition to these international publications, Emerson and Fuller had both already published books. However, for many of the journal’s writers, their contributions to The Dial were their first publications and the first -- and in many cases only -- published record of their ideas. The position of Margaret Fuller as a leader within the Transcendentalist community is a particularly interesting one, since, though a woman in a decidedly male intellectual community, she was also The Dial’s original editor, holding the position from its inception in 1839 to 1842 when she left Concord for New York (though, as Dickenson notes, she was never actually paid the agreed editor’s 177 salary of $200 a year). 218 She ultimately resigned partly in frustration over declining subscription rates, but mainly to take a position in New York as book reviewer for the New-York Tribune newspaper. 219 As editor, and then public critic for the Tribune, Fuller functioned as “gatekeeper” for the Transcendentalist community in New England and, not surprisingly, became the target of dismissive and distorting comments. These mischaracterizations continued to define her long after her death. 220 The need to contain Fuller’s life and thoughts was not confined to her detractors; her friends, mentors and family also participated in revising her and her image to fit the conventions of their time. In a move that might be viewed as ironic, or even vengeful, her work and letters were ruthlessly edited after her death by her friends (Emerson, Clarke and Channing, among others) and her brother, Arthur B. Fuller, 218 Donna Dickenson, Margaret Fuller: Writing a Woman's Life (Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire: Macmillan, 1993). (101) 219 Philip F. Gura, American Transcendentalism: A History, 1st ed. (New York, NY: Hill and Wang, 2007). (225) 220 Martin Duberman, James Russell Lowell (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1966). (100) 178 at a meeting where they literally cut apart their originals of her letters and writings, and then collectively reassembled them to create a single “official” text. 221 The resulting volume was published as though autobiography under the title Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli, with Emerson and Fuller’s brother also writing a foreword and afterword to these constructed “memoirs,” neatly containing her life while erasing the parts they feared were socially unacceptable or contrary to the narrative of her life they had created. Fuller scholar, Bell Gail Chevigny, has written at length documenting and reconstructing the degree to which Fuller’s “liberated sexuality” was “banished” by these revisions. 222 More recently, Colleen Boggs has written about their expunging of Fuller’s thoughts on translations, and her theories regarding multilingualism from her earlier published and 221 Bell Gail Chevigny, "The Long Arm of Censorship: Mythmaking in Margaret Fuller's Time and Our Own," Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Societ 2.2 (1976). (451) This same sort of “re-editing” was done, though less dramatically, to Fuller’s other works such as Summer on the Lakes, by her brother, Arthur B. Fuller, who re-edited her books after her death and, among other changes, softened or removed her uncomfortable theories of the United States as a multilingual nation. 222 Chevigny, "The Long Arm of Censorship: Mythmaking in Margaret Fuller's Time and Our Own." (452) 179 unpublished texts, censoring her mind while intellectually repatriating her. 223 Though the nineteenth century American Transcendentalist communities were not socialist in the modern sense, Emerson’s comments on intellectualism may be seen as discursively echoed by Gramsci’s writings on the nature of organic intellectualism, that [t]here is no human activity from which every form of intellectual participation can be excluded: Homo faber cannot be separated from Homo Sapiens. Each man, finally, outside his professional activities, carries on some form of intellectual activity[...] 224 Like those of Gramsci, Emerson’s writings argue for an intellectualism extending beyond the traditional scholar class, with routes outside of traditional education. Even more than Emerson’s, Fuller’s thoughts 223 Colleen Glenney Boggs, "Margaret Fuller's American Translation," American Literature 76.1 (2004). (31-32). This censoring of Fuller’s writings, which happened over 150 years ago, continues to have reverberations into the present, as the complete version is still not in libraries despite having been reprinted in complete form between the 1970s through to the present. This because the edited version (which had much wider publication than Fuller’s first editions) is already there. Such was the case at the University of Southern California with Fuller’s Summer By the Lakes, for example, as recently as 2007. 224 Antonio Gramsci, "Hegemony, Intellectuals and the State," Cultural Theory and Popular Culture : A Reader, ed. John Storey, 2nd ed ed. (Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire ; New York: Prentice Hall, 1998). (213) 180 and interests were influenced by the socialist projects of her time. She was a frequent visitor to the utopian community, Brook Farm, run according along Fourierist socialist lines. After Fuller left the United States in 1846 to report on European issues for the Tribune, she continued to be interested in Fourierism, especially focusing on the ways it would help equalize conditions between men and women. 225 Though she traveled extensively in Europe, she very closely followed, reported and participated in the 1849 revolution in Rome. In addition to this Italian connection, Fuller’s writing and work can be connected to the socialist movements of the twentieth century, including those influencing Antonio Gramsci, as she translated some early Marxist writings shortly before her death for an article reprint about Karl Marx and Fredrick Engels. 226 225 Gura, American Transcendentalism : A History. (169) 226 Boggs, "Margaret Fuller's American Translation." (51) 181 Talking Back: Editing Chicanas WASP liberationist you invited me token minority... Over cookies and tea, you sidled up to me and said, “Sisterhood is Powerful” I said “Bullshit and allmotherful” 227 Hey Chicano bossman don’t tell me that machismo is part of our culture... Your culture emanates from Raza posters on your walls from bulletin boards in the halls and from the batos who hang out at the barrio bar. Chicanismo through osmosis acquired in good doses remind you to remind me that machi-machi-machismo is part of our culture. 228 227 Marcela Christine Lucero-Trujillo, "No More Cookies Please," The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States, ed. Dexter Fisher (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980). 228 Marcela Christine Lucero-Trujillo, "Machismo Is Part of Our Culture," The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States, ed. Dexter Fisher (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980). 182 Access to publication is central not only to the development of writers as individuals but also the emergence of social and political movements, especially, as Benita Roth documents, with regard to emerging feminism, so much so Roth sees it as a movement “precondition.” 229 When Margaret Fuller assumed the editorship of The Dial she gained access to a newly-created textual community, supplementing the physical intellectual communities of Concord and Boston. Her writings for The Dial helped to solidify her ideas on the position of women in her society, inspiring her text Women in the Nineteenth Century. While readers perceive the authorship of collected works, whether journals, newspapers or anthologies, as autonomous and absolute, the content is the result of individual and collective editorial decisions. Yet while readers see the authorial decisions as definitive while editorship remains, to them, invisible. Within a text, editors are seen, to the extent they are seen at all, as serving a generally administrative or organizational role. Yet in reality editors 229 Benita Roth, Separate Roads to Feminism: Black, Chicana, and White Feminist Movements in America's Second Wave (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 2004). (16) 183 act as facilitators, filters and / or gatekeepers -- albeit sometimes uncomfortable ones -- deciding who and what is included and excluded, encouraging writing that otherwise might never be published or even written. 230 Editors also decide, in the case of a movement’s newspaper, journal or anthology, what constitutes the inside and the outside. By making these decisions, they decide whose thoughts merit inclusion, which ones belong and which do not, controlling how and if a subject or author will be presented. Still further, editors decide through which point of view or lens an artistic, social or political movement will be viewed. The political and social movements of the 1960s Left, which the Chicano movement grew alongside and out of, had an idealistic vision of social protest joined with artistic and spiritual change which attempted to connect the artistic and working classes. This was an alliance for the movements of the Left in general, but one seen especially strongly in the Chicano movement. For example, the 230 Cary Nelson, "Multiculturalism without Guarantees: From Anthologies to the Social Text," The Journal of the Midwest Modern Language Association 26.1 (1993). 184 Chicano theater group, El Teatro Campasino, was conceived by writers protesting alongside the strikers of the 1965 Delano Grape Boycott -- it was born from within the United Farm Workers (UFW) union. Union leader Cesar Chavez expressed the opinion that artists were a vital part of the UFW movement. Indeed, the farm workers themselves were not merely El Teatro’s subject and audience, but also its early actors. The union’s political and artistic (intellectual) activities became, for some, a means to move out of the working class and into the artistic class, and their status crossed between theater and academia. Luis Valdez’s role as founder of El Teatro gave him the status in 1972 to edit (with the mediating presence of Stan Steiner) the early Chicano anthology Aztlán: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. 231 Protest art was carried as picket signs and also framed and sold as artwork. Similarly, movement mural artists such as Judith Baca may be seen as having participated in the union when they painted the red and black eagle flag into their works throughout the Southwest. Artistic and political visions blurred in and 231 Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner, eds., Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature (New York, NY: Knopf, 1972). 185 out of each other, not as propaganda, but as artists in a community created art for and about people and issues that mattered to them. Journals, newspapers and edited anthologies were at once both literal and textual communities within the 1960s and 1970s movements of resistant idealism, specifically the Chicano movement; or rather, the Chicano movements, since the movements themselves were always diffuse, divided by the geography and social differences which separated southwestern communities. In cities like Los Angeles, the movement was focused more on community rights and education; 232 in the California farmlands, the farmworkers’ struggle was paramount; while in rural New Mexico there was a battle to regain land rights. 233 The movements had sympathy for the Chicano causes in general, and there were social connections between them, but each region had its own organization and leadership. 232 Carlos Muñoz Jr., Youth, Identity, Power: The Chicano Movement (New York, NY: Verso Press, 2007). Ernesto. Chávez, Mi Raza Primero!" (My People First!): Nationalism, Identity, and Insurgency in the Chicano Movement in Los Angeles, 1966-1978 (Berkeley CA: University of California Press, 2002). 233 Ignacio M. Garcia, Chicanismo: The Forging of a Militant Ethos among Mexican Americans (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1997). (6-10) 186 In 1969, the National Chicano Youth Liberation Conference, sponsored by The Crusade for Justice (led by Rudolfo Gonzáles), met for almost two weeks in Denver. There were over fifteen hundred participants, representing more than one hundred schools, colleges, universities and community organizations throughout the United States. 234 Out of this conference came a moment of unity between different Chicano communities as they created the Movement’s utopian vision of El Plan de Aztlán, based in part on the poetic allegory of Aztlán created by the poet Alurista. 235 Because of the power of this moment and vision, it is easy to ignore or collapse the discord in the years which followed, as Chicano organizations who favored community nationalism came into increasing conflict with 234 Garcia, Chicanismo: The Forging of a Militant Ethos among Mexican Americans. (92-94). 235 Aztlán is a Nahuatl word for the original ancestral homeland of the Aztecs. Alurista adopted it from Aztec legend to refashion it as the homeland for the contemporary Chicano/a people. 187 those dedicated to a vision of Chicano participation in a global Marxist revolution. 236 The movements’ publications also offer a record of specific events or moments in their history, and reflect different styles of editorship and investment in different aspects of the Chicano/a struggle. The print runs and readership of early Chicana journals published between 1968 and 1975 (when many, other than those on university campuses, had ceased) were limited in distribution and number when compared with publications from either the Chicano or feminist anthologies of their own period (the early to mid 1970s), or the Chicana feminist anthologies which emerged in the early 1980s. These earliest Chicana-edited publications generally had very small print runs, and even smaller distribution networks, as they were often written for specific communities by women who were also involved in 236 An excellent history of this conflict between the nationalist “Chicanismo” and the Marxist (CASA) movement factions through the lens of southern California universities is documented in Gustavo Licón, "¡La Unión Hace La Fuerza! (Unity Creates Strength!) M.E.Ch.A. And Chicana/O Student Activism in California, 1967-1999," Dissertation, University of Southern California, 2009. 188 larger Chicano organizations. 237 Yet this was a limitation on numbers of readers, not the effect that participation had on the writers and editors themselves. The women who engaged in political and cultural discussions via the various publications often continued to write and edit long after the original publications had ceased. As Maylei Blackwell writes regarding these early writings, indicating the communities they both represented and created As a form of political pedagogy, these print-mediated dialogues among women from different movement sectors and social locations created a space not only to formulate Chicana demands but to constitute new political, racial and gender identities. 238 Further, some essays first published in these small Chicana - edited venues were themselves reprinted and republished elsewhere, sometimes across significant distances, quietly spreading throughout a 237 Roth, Separate Roads to Feminism: Black, Chicana, and White Feminist Movements in America's Second Wave. (139-140) 238 Maylei Blackwell, "Contested Histories: Las Hijas De Cucuhtémoc, Chicana Feminisms, and Print Culture in the Chicano Movement, 1968-1973," Chicana Feminisms : A Critical Reader, eds. Gabriela F. Arredondo and et al (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003). (61) 189 network of Chicano/a publications. In doing so they gained intellectual capital by their continued redistribution. Chicano/a editors assumed different styles of editing according to the publication and editorial philosophies of those involved. The Chicano/a poetry anthology Festival de Flor y Canto: An Anthology of Chicano Literature, 239 published in 1976 and edited by poet Alurista, student Mary Ann Pacheco and Professor F. A. Cervantes, grew out of the first Festival de Flor y Canto arts and poetry festival, held in 1972 at the University of Southern California. This anthology’s structure reflects the open and inclusive style of the Flor y Canto festival’s organization, one in which participants and audience were intentionally blended, with audience members standing to assume the role of poets and performers throughout the event. The anthology’s editors seem to see their role as that of archivists, trying to create a record of the poems which were read at, and in some cases written during and specifically for, the actual festival, capturing the event as 239 Alurista, Mary Ann Pacheco and F.A. Cervantes, eds., Festival De Flor Y Canto : An Anthology of Chicano Literature (Los Angeles: University of Southern California Press, 1976). 190 an experience. 240 This style of anthology construction is more egalitarian toward the contributors. It had both celebratory and socialist / Marxist overtones, the editors functioning as collectors and archivists of an event they helped facilitate, rather than in the more traditional, exclusionary editorial role of gatekeeper. Another early example of a collective editing is Chicana anthology, La Mujer -- en pie de lucha, 241 was first published in 1973 and was an outgrowth of her work with the Chicana group Concilio Mujeres (and their Chicana Collection Project) at San Francisco State University. 242 This anthology, edited by Dorinda Moreno, was created out of instructors’ 240 Video recordings of some readings have recently (2009) been uncovered and donated in digital form to the library at the University of Southern California. Before their unearthing, no recording of this event, which included writers like Oscar Zeta Acosta and Tomás Rivera, was believed to exist. Bill Dotson, Watch Dvds of Chicano Poets from the 1973 Festival De Flor Y Canto, May 6, 2009 2009, USC Libraries, Available: http://dotsx.usc.edu/newsblog/index.php/main/comments/watch_dvds_of_chic ano_poets_from_the_1973_festival_flor_y_canto/, April 10, 2010 2010. 241 Dorinda Moreno, La Mujer En Pie De Lucha : Y La Hora Es Ya! (Mexico: Espina del Norte, 1973). 242 Roth, Separate Roads to Feminism: Black, Chicana, and White Feminist Movements in America's Second Wave. (142-144) 191 difficulties in finding materials for a Chicana studies classes. 243 Created by a collective of women and printed by a small press, it anticipates the style of anthology which would be widely seen in the 1980s, in its mixing of poetry and prose, creative and essay writing, with graphic art. Further, it also included essays by women of color other than Chicanas. Though its print run and distribution were very small, by 1977 Marta Cotera would cite the collection as “used widely in Chicano studies.” 244 More traditionally, when creating anthologies of minority literature intended to be read by a wider audience outside a specific community, editors define the movement and moment whether they intend to or not. Lien Chao comments on this in her discussion of the emergence of the Chinese Canadian anthology. She notes that minority-voiced anthologies frequently carry “larger-than-life” titles and 243 Erlinda González-Berry, "La Mujer Chicana," Women's Studies Newsletter 2.1 (1974). (3) 244 Cotera, The Chicana Feminist. (58) 192 roles. 245 This same point is made more bluntly -- though doubtlessly tongue-in-check -- by Norton editor Alane Salierno Mason, who writes that “[e]diting a literary anthology is like forming a social club -- you get to decide who are ‘your’ kind of people.” 246 Anthologies have the authority to speak with the collectively powerful voice of the otherwise mute community, and can end up being the movement’s primary or even solitary voice. 247 Such was arguably the case within the anthologies Aztlán: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature 248 and Sisterhood Is Powerful. 249 In the case of Aztlán, the title alone position the texts as both defining and central to an emerging Chicano literature, especially given that for several years it stood 245 Lien Chao, "Anthologizing the Collective: The Epic Struggles to Establish Chinese Canadian Literature in English," Essays on Canadian Writing 57.Winter (1995). 246 Alane Salierno Mason, "Buona Sera, Social Clubs?," Boston Review (2003). 247 Chao, "Anthologizing the Collective: The Epic Struggles to Establish Chinese Canadian Literature in English." 248 Valdez and Steiner, eds., Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. 249 Robin Morgan, Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement (New York: Vintage Books, 1970). 193 alone as the sole accessible text. Though there were other Chicano publications by 1972, those publications were likely to be regional and underground newspapers, journals and chapbooks, rather than anthologies, and therefore unlikely to be accessed by a mainstream audience outside the Chicano movement. The absence of Chicano/a alternative voices accessible outside smaller movement presses and underground newspapers gave Valdez and Steiner’s book a definitive status. In these circumstances, if, as Paul Lauter wrote, “an anthology presents its own story,” one which “offers an immediate instance of the conditions of textual production,” 250 it is all the more important to question what has been included and consider possible reasons why. The role of the edited anthology in the construction of a “national” or “nationalist” (with all the problems attached to using both words) Chicano literature within the larger body of United States literature is significant and distinct. As a collective production, the anthology carries with it the discursive authority of speaking to the 250 Paul Lauter, "Taking Anthologies Seriously," MELUS 29.3/4 (2004). 194 majority culture as a multi-voiced all, giving at least the impression of covering a variety of perspectives on a subject -- in this case speaking for all Chicanos. This multi-voiced all is more powerful still when the anthology is one of only a few texts from a minority group, as was the case for Chicano and United States feminist anthologies in the late 1960s and the early 1970s. The inclusion of Vásquez as the single Chicana author in the feminist liberation text Sisterhood Is Powerful, 251 and -- with the same article -- as one of the few female authors in the first Chicano-edited anthology, Aztlán, 252 gave the illusion that this one author and article could speak, and indeed did speak, for all Chicanas. By the same token, it put a great deal of pressure (one might say an impossible amount) on that single article and author to speak for the many. 251 Morgan, Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. 252 Other Chicanas included in Valdez’s text were: Jovita Gonzales, Valentina Valdez Tijerina, Fabiola Cabez de Baca, Mary Lou Espinosa, Olga Ceballos, Hilda Leal, Genevieve Diaz, Renee Jaun, Marta Enriquez. Of these, five were Los Angeles high school students contributing works of poetry, while two others were nineteenth century writers. 195 Like journals and underground newspapers, but on a larger scale, feminist anthologies were part of the wide-spread consciousness raising process of the second wave feminist movement. 253 As Karen Kilcup writes in her study of anthologies and women’s writing communities [a]nthologies themselves represent a form of what we might call embodied pedagogy, enabling and engendering certain kinds of teaching via their shape, content and apparatus. 254 Chicanas in the late 1960s and early 1970s had little access to these venues however, their publication networks being much more limited. Their inclusion in larger Chicano and feminist anthologies offered the possibility of reaching out to wider audience. The collection Sisterhood Is Powerful was a very important publishing milestone for both the women’s liberation movement and American feminism -- its achievements and limitations, especially 253 Brian Norman, "The Consciousness-Raising Document, Feminist Anthologies, and Black Women in Sisterhood Is Powerful," Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies 27.3 (2006). (38-39) 254 Karen L. Kilcup, "Embodied Pedagogies: Femininity, Diversity, and Community in Anthologies of Women's Writing, 1836-2009," Legacy 26.2 (2009). (301) 196 regarding the issue of collectivism and essentialism continue to reverberate through third wave feminism. 255 Writing her introduction to Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings, the anthology of Chicana movement resistance writings compiled and edited in 1997, Alma M. García prefaced the text of her own comments with non-Chicana authored epigraphs that both gesture toward and recognize the power that the evoking of a feminist sisterhood holds, by making the quotation Sisterhood is powerful. -Robin Morgan 256 the first words of the book. With this first quotation, García reminds the reader of the early second wave anthology Sisterhood Is Powerful, edited by Robin Morgan, and its powerful message of collective female voice. Following this, García then undercuts and problematizes 255 Wini Breines, The Trouble between Us: An Uneasy History of White and Black Women in the Feminist Movement (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2006). 256 Alma M. García, Chicana Feminist Thought : The Basic Historical Writings (New York: Routledge, 1997). (italics as in original.) 197 the overstated simplicity of this sentiment by choosing as her book’s second epigraph There is a pretense to a homogeneity of experience covered under the word sisterhood that does not in fact exist. - Audre Lorde 257 The juxtaposition of the second quotation would seem to call into question the validity of the first. It highlights the troubling essentialism inherent in both the first quotation and the Sisterhood Is Powerful anthology's title -- and also, by association, criticizes the anthology itself. Such conflict seems to perfectly synthesize the problem of the Chicana feminist, her desire to belong to a larger feminism while resisting being overly simplified or essentialized. Yet García's series of introductory quotations is neither as in conflict with, nor as closed off to, the idea of a collective politics or “sisterhood” as part of a resistance movement as it might first appear. The anthology Sisterhood is Powerful, for all its title's seeming essentialism, does try and present a variety of viewpoints, 257 García, Chicana Feminist Thought : The Basic Historical Writings. (italics as in original). 198 and does include among them (albeit a small minority of them in a not entirely integrated way) the voices of some women of color who are quite direct in questioning the overly Anglo face and voice of United States feminism. There was an awareness, even in the midst of the universality of “sisterhood,” that race and class distinctions were important. Morgan herself comments in Sisterhood’s preface regarding her concern about “doing Lady Bountiful actions about other people’s oppression” while identifying her own “ruling class” 258 position, while seeming to under cut these statements by not examine her own power as editor. This erasure of the power of editor is still more glaring in the 1971 Dell anthology Liberation Now! Writings From the Women’s Liberation Movement, which also republished Vásquez’s essay. No editor is listed on the book’s cover or title page. Instead there is a statement 258 Morgan, Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. (xvii - xxxv). 199 We have intentionally omitted our manes from the cover of this anthology. It is our personal / political conviction that to single out our own names for special notice would distort the fact the book was made possible by the efforts of every woman whose work appears herein. (signed) THE EDITORS 259 The editors names are included as part of the book’s table of contents with the note that the text was “compiled” by Deborah Babcox and Madeline Belkin. At the same time, Audre Lorde and other women of color’s concerns and conflicts with a universal (and seemingly white) sisterhood building as “a ‘theory’ of white women build on the ‘experience’ of women of color” also come from experiences with community organizing, collectivity and consciousness raising. 260 Lorde, as an example, was an African American poet and activist, whom repeatedly gave her energies, talent and writings to collections and 259 Deborah Babcox and Madeline Belkin, eds., Liberation Now! Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement, Laurel ed. (New York: Dell Pub. Co., 1971). 260 Katie King, Theory in Its Feminist Travels: Conversations in U.S. Women's Movements (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1994). (145) 200 collectives of women of color. 261 She was central among those who participated in what Chela Sandoval refers to as "U.S. third world feminism," 262 while also in dialog, some of which was quite fraught, with Anglo United States feminists, along with men of color from her own communities. The contradiction created by a movement’s desire for collectivity and the power group identity can impart, while resisting essentialism and the erasure of difference -- issues García's epigraphs seem to comment upon -- is reflected in the publication history of an oft anthologized, republished and variously titled piece by Enriqueta 261 Witness Audre Lorde's contributions to the collection This Bridge Called My Back Writings of Radical Women of Color, among others. I was very moved when UCLA's Chicano Research Center's librarian, Dr. Yolanda Retter Vargas, remarked in our discussion of This Bridge that, in her opinion, Audre Lorde really died of battle fatigue from trying to fight on so many different fronts -- race, gender, sexuality -- for so long. The truth underlying the comment seemed to illustrate so well that despite her frustrations with the blindness of each movement to the plight of those straddling between them she never stopped struggling for the collective. 262 Chela Sandoval, Methodology of the Oppressed, Theory out of Bounds V. 18 (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2000). (2) 201 Longeaux y Vásquez's. 263 First published in a regional Chicana edited and collectively run newspaper, Vásquez's essay was notably successful in getting its author's ideas distributed to a wide and varied readership via Chicano and feminist, small and mainstream presses, in newspapers, books and journals. The essay, at least in terms of its reproduction and distribution, was arguably the most successful of the period; its text in various forms has been re-printed at least seven times in different publications over the past thirty 263 Vásquez's essay has been variously titled “The Woman of La Raza,” “The Women of La Raza,” and “The Mexican-American Woman,” depending on where it was published. 202 years, four times in anthologies and collections of Chicano, feminist and Chicana writings. 264 Written in response to, and reporting on Vasquez’s personal experience of attending the women's workshop at the 1969 Chicano Youth Liberation Conference in Denver, Colorado, 265 the essay was first published under the title “The Women of La Raza” that same year. This first publication was in the Northern New Mexican regional 264 Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Women of La Raza," El Grito del Norte 2 (1969).; Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman," Sisterhood Is Powerful, ed. Robin Morgan (New York: Vintage Books: Random House, 1970).; Elizabeth Sutherland and Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "Colonized Women: The Chicana," Liberation Now! Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement, eds. Deborah Babcox and Madeline Belkin, A Laurel Original (New York: Dell Publishing Co., 1971).; Enriqueta Longeaux y Vásquez, "The Woman of La Raza," Aztlán : An Anthology of Mexican American Literature, eds. Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner, 1st ed. (New York: Vintage Books, 1972).; Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Woman of La Raza," Magazín 1.4 (1972)., Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Woman of La Raza," Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings, ed. Alma M. Garcia (New York: Routledge, 1997). Enriqueta Longeaux y Vásquez, Dionne Espinoza and Lorena Oropeza, Enriqueta Vasquez and the Chicano Movement : Writings from El Grito Del Norte, Hispanic Civil Rights Series (Houston, Tex.: Arte Público Press, 2006). 265 This was also the conference where the document “El Plan Espiritual De Aztlán” was written and approved. A copy of “El Plan” was also published in El Grito del Norte along with Vasquez’s essay. 203 Chicano newspaper El Grito del Norte, 266 founded and edited by Chicana activist Elizabeth (Betita) Martínez, where Vásquez wrote regularly published a column. 267 El Grito was collectively run largely by women, and was originally dedicated, at least initially, to supporting the New Mexican land struggle of Reies Tijerina's Alianza Federal de Mercedes 268 against the local, state and federal government. It became a voice of the Chicano movement in New Mexico community, consistently writing about civil rights and gender issues. 266 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Women of La Raza." 267 Vásquez's role with the El Grito publication is not entirely clear. Alma M. García reports (García, 8) in her introduction that Martínez and Vásquez co-edited El Grito del Norte. However, in the author's notes for Sisterhood Is Powerful, (Morgan, 572-573) Vásquez is described not as an editor, but a regular columnist. This confusion may be due to the mixed roles served by many authors and editors of movement publications of the period. 268 Elizabeth “Betita” Martínez, "A View from New Mexico: Recollections of the Movimiento Left," Monthly Review (2002), Web article, 1/30/06. Martínez had first been told of the land struggle in New Mexico by civil rights activist Julian Bond. 204 Figure 3: Xerox Art by Rini Templeton. Templeton, a member of the collective which produced El Grito del Norte, created what she (and other movement artists) called “Xerox Art” because of its ability to be copied easily. Artwork by Templeton was part of every newspaper issue. 205 Shortly after its publication in El Grito, Vásquez's essay was then republished, with the addition of an introduction essay by Elizabeth Sutherland, by Random House publishers in the 1970 anthology Sisterhood Is Powerful. 269 It was also published in a nearly identical form, complete with the introduction, the following year in the Dell anthology Liberation Now! 270 The article then returned to a Chicana/o Movement press when it was republished in 1972 in an early issue of Magazín, 271 a short-lived Tejano publication. A year later, the article was featured as one of a few contemporary Chicana- authored essays in one of the first Chicano-edited anthologies of Chicano writing published by a major press, Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. 272 This collection was co-edited by Luis Valdez and folklorist Stan Steiner and was published by Alfred A. 269 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." 270 Sutherland and Longeaux y Vasquez, "Colonized Women: The Chicana." (200-204) 271 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Woman of La Raza." 272 Longeaux y Vásquez, "The Woman of La Raza." Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature, (eds. Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner) (272-278.) 206 Knopf. More recently, the Magazín version of Vásquez's essay was included in Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings, a 1998 collection edited by Alma M. García 273 and published by the academic press Routledge. The article’s most recent publication is in a collection of Vásquez’s El Grito writings from the 1960s and 1970s. 274 In her introduction to Chicana Feminist Thought, Garcia clearly gives her criteria for the selection of writings included in her anthology: (1) the substance of a document; (2) the historical importance of a particular document; and (3) the historical importance of a particular writer. 275 Given its publication history, Vásquez's article clearly meets both the first and second criteria. I would further argue that writings coming 273 Vásquez, The Woman of La Raza," Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings (ed. Alma M. García) (29-31.) 274 Longeaux y Vásquez, Espinoza and Oropeza, Enriqueta Vasquez and the Chicano Movement : Writings from El Grito Del Norte. 275 García, Chicana Feminist Thought : The Basic Historical Writings. (12) 207 from the underground presses and newspapers of political and cultural resistance movements -- like the Chicano and feminist movements -- can be said to gain intellectual capital by both the frequency of their publication (and re-publication) and the extent of their distribution. On those terms, this three-to-five page (depending on the publication venue it appeared in) essay by Enriqueta Longeaux y Vásquez can be counted as one of the most influential essays of the entire Chicano movement. Certainly it qualifies as one of the most widely read and republished Chicana-authored pieces, crossing and criss-crossing Chicano and feminist boundaries. After all, Vasquez's article appeared in feminist publications Sisterhood Is Powerful and Liberation Now!, published by New York presses Random House and Dell, which were arguably the most widely distributed feminist collections published up to that point -- mass market paperbacks sold mworldwide. Two years later, Vasquez’s article was again anthologized in Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature, the first Chicano-edited anthology published by a major New York press. What was it, then, about Vásquez's article that appealed to both the Chicano male and white feminist anthologizers? 208 Part of its importance derives from the fact that -- though Vásquez does not explicitly name the conference -- this is an article written about the 1969 Denver Youth Conference, itself an important moment in Chicano history. It is a voice coming out of the conference in counterpoint to the man-making words “bronze brothers” declaration of the mestizo nation making it of interest to Chicano/a publications. Yet this cannot be the only reason for its many re-publications. Another answer might be found in the similarities and differences between the various published versions of the Vásquez text, since once assumes that any changes would reflect differences in editors and the article’s (expected) audience. Though the substance of the text remained largely stable through each publication, Vásquez did vary her text slightly. These changes were made -- either by her own choice or that of her editors -- in order to appeal to and be understandable by different groups of readers, be they largely Chicano/a or largely white feminist. In the version of Vásquez’s text which appears as "The Mexican- American Woman" in the Sisterhood Is Powerful anthology, the first textual change (aside from the obvious one made to the title) is the 209 addition of “Mexican-American woman” to the line “Chicana, women of La Raza.” This change offers a definition of the term “Chicana” to the Sisterhood Is Powerful readers who might well be seeing the term for the first time and not understand its meaning -- one presumes that the readers of El Grito would have long been familiar with it. 276 Another early change, which was perhaps not made by Vásquez herself, is further along the same page and line, where a footnote (number one) offers a translation and explanation of the term “La Raza” as it is used in Vásquez's text Literally, “The Race,” a term referring to people in the United States who are descended from the American Indians and the Spanish colonialists; also carries the meaning “a new breed.” --Ed. The footnote is signed "Ed.," perhaps signifying that this was not added by Vásquez, but rather by Robin Morgan or another editor who feared that this term too would not be understood by the anticipated readership. 277 Given this, one wonders why such a footnoted explanation could not have been used to define "la chicana," thereby 276 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." 379. 277 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." 379. 210 educating the audience as to the meaning of the terms "chicano" and "chicana" without changing either the title or the text of the original article. Then again, as Elizabeth Martínez writes in De Colores Means All of Us, discussing the "Great Terminology Question" -- as she calls it -- these terms are the subject of intense debate within the Chicano movement, and have been for more than forty years as they reflect the “people's struggle for a non-racist -- indeed anti-racist -- [way] of defining themselves.” 278 Yet, even having already offered a definition of chicana, the Sisterhood Is Powerful version of the article begins with the author's use of the term “Mexican-American” on its own, in a manner that would seem to make available a different reading from that offered by the El Grito text, one perhaps intended for an Anglo feminist audience rather than a largely Chicano/a one. 278 Elizabeth Martínez, De Colores Means All of Us: Latina Views for a Multi-Colored Century (Cambridge, MA: South End Press, 1998). (3) 211 As a woman who has been faced with living as a member of the Mexican-American minority group, as a breadwinner and mother raising children, living in housing projects, and having much concern for other humans plus much community involvement, I felt this as quite a blow. 279 Written to a Chicano audience, this construction might seem like a challenge to both Chicano males and any Chicana females who agreed with the majority women of this conference session. However, when read by a white feminist audience, it would seem to both appeal to them to understand her frustration while at the same time pointing out the possible differences in their class and cultural positions. The text would remain word-for-word identical when it was republished three years later in the Valdez anthology Aztlán, except that in the Valdez anthology quotation marks are put around the hyphenated “Mexican-American.” 280 Those quotation marks would seem to both question the validity of the term to describe the 279 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." 379. 280 Valdez and Steiner, eds., Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. (272) 212 community, and to mark it as one neither used nor accepted by the author, offering recognition of the fact that, even at that time, “Mexican-American” would seem to many a cop-out or even a mildly offensive term. Yet comparing texts makes it hard to decipher Vásquez's use of the term “Mexican-American” and her own feelings about it. Those questioning quotation marks, which appear in the Aztlán version of the article, vanish again in the Magazín version. Because of the quotation marks’ power to change the meaning, to qualify and question the validity of the term, their appearance and disappearance would seem to be of some note, reflecting as they do the politics of what Chicano/as are called and what they call each other. Following that first page, however, the remainder of the Sisterhood Is Powerful version of the article uses the term “Chicana” as her preferred terminology, rather than “Mexican-American woman,” signifying that the author expects that the reader has become educated about the term “Chicano/a” and its usage and meaning. Further on in the Sisterhood Is Powerful version, Vásquez couples her use of “Chicana” with her use of “Mexican” -- not as a definition, though it might appear to be so to a reader not aware of 213 the distinction in meaning between “Chicana,” “Mexican” and “Mexican- American.” This is case when she writes that Looking at the history of the Chicana or Mexican woman, we see that her role has been a strong one -- although a silent one. 281 With this construction, Vásquez makes the connection between the “Mexican woman” and the “Chicana,” while at the same time pointing out that the “Chicana” is distinct from the “Mexican” -- the first referring to U.S.-born women of Mexican descent, and the second to Mexican nationals. Yet, ironically, her previous use of the term “Mexican-American” likely deepens the connection between the two, especially for the Anglo feminist reader who may think that “Mexican” is an alternative meaning for “Chicana.” Further down that page, multiple terms are again used 281 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." (380) 214 Today, as we hear the call of La Raza and as the dormant, “docile,” Mexican-American comes to life, we see again the stirring of the people. With that call, the Chicana woman also stirs and I am sure she will leave her mark upon the Mexican-American movement of the Southwest. 282 The construction of this passage remains consistent across the publications of this article. Here, Vásquez's use of the multiple identity terms “Mexican-American” and “Chicana” may be stylistic, so as to avoid repeating any one term within a single paragraph. Alternatively, she may have been trying to avoid using “Chicano” in the collective -- which could include the feminine, but could also be read as entirely masculine, in contrast to the all-feminine “Chicana” -- as the linguistic “splitting” denoted by the usage of “Chicano/a” had not yet become standard / popular. Of course, this raises the difficult question of whether there is any sort of standard. 282 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." (380). Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Woman of La Raza," Aztlán : An Anthology of Mexican American Literature, eds. Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner, [1st ed. (New York: Vintage Books, 1972). (273). Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Woman of La Raza."Chicana Feminist Thought, (29). 215 In the following paragraph, there is further variation, this time on the issue of how the term “M/macho” is presented. The article in Sisterhood is Powerful contains the following passage [h]ow the Chicana woman reacts depends totally on how the macho Chicano is treated when he goes out into the "mainstream of society." 283 Another definition footnote, again coming from “Ed.” follows the term “macho Chicano” 2. Macho and machismo -- a term used among the Mexican-American (and other Latins) as a sense of manhood, defining the behavior of the male as truly masculine according to how superior and dominating he acts. --Ed. 284 While in Aztlán, the same passage reads How the Chicana woman reacts depends totally on how the "Macho" Chicano is treated when he goes out into the so-called “Mainstream of Society.” 285 In the Aztlán version, the addition of quotation marks and changes in capitalization subtly changes the meaning. This was not the only 283 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." 380. 284 Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman." 380. 285 Aztlan, 273. 216 inclusion of the terms “machismo” and “macho” in Sisterhood Is Powerful. They are used twice in the editor’s preface (without footnote explaining their usage or meaning) to denote masculinity in its worst sense, expressing a domineering image of oppressive patriarchy. 286 Sisterhood’s Second Chicana While differences between the texts and its subject matter may offer insight into why Vasquez’s text has been so often republished in Chicano/a sources, its publications in Sisterhood is Powerful and Liberation Now may be due to the influence of El Grito del Norte’s editor, Elizabeth (Betita) Martínez. On my first readings of Robin Morgan’s anthology I assumed that the single Chicana author included in Sisterhood Is Powerful was Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez. I believed that Vasquez’s piece stood alone in representing Chicana feminists, as if saying that Vasquez was the solitary Chicana feminist not only in the text, but perhaps also at the Denver conference now 286 Morgan, Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. (xxvi, xxxv) 217 reporting back to a larger feminist community. The article’s inclusion in Sisterhood Is Powerful does not stand on its own, however, but is powerfully mediated by Elizabeth Sutherland’s lengthy 287 three-page introduction explaining the article’s context. The inclusion of Sutherland’s introduction is significant and striking. Among the anthology’s sixty-nine articles, only the contribution by Vasquez merits an introduction by another author. 288 The structure of the introduction is itself interesting. Elizabeth Sutherland, in the tradition of the slave narrative, appears to function as an Anglo authenticating feminist voice. As such, she seems to vouch for Vasquez’s inclusion in the text as a feminist, as if otherwise there would be some doubt about the article -- or even about Vasquez herself belonging in this community of sisterhood. Sutherland explicitly calls on the -- presumably white -- readers to 287 Vasquez’s article itself is only five pages. 288 An identical version of “The Mexican American Woman,” complete with the same introduction by Elizabeth Sutherland, appeared in the 1971 anthology Liberation Now! under the title “Colonized Women: The Chicana.” However, in the case of the version in Liberation Now! the article is indexed as being by Elizabeth Sutherland, with the Vasquez article appearing as though within it. 218 “listen for her [Vasquez’s] own voice, not merely for echoes of their own.” 289 The assumption, based solely on her name and the fact that Sutherland does not identify herself as ‘of-color’ -- that Sutherland herself is white is one that should be examined, but is one that readers (myself included) would be likely to make. However, a careful reading of the contributors list at the anthology’s end gives more information, (re)naming and identifying the author as “Elizabeth Sutherland (Martínez),” giving a clue she may not be as Anglo as her name would make her seem, though again it would take both careful reading and some insider knowledge or research to decipher the clues. The (Martínez) addition is not included in either the table of contents or the article text. It can only be read by going to the “Contributors” biography section at the end of the anthology. There she is further identified as the editor of the Chicano movement newspaper El Grito Del Norte. Still more research -- not in the anthology itself but into El Grito -- reveals that 289 Elizabeth Sutherland, "An Introduction," Sisterhood Is Poweful: An Anthology of Writing from the Women's Liberation Movement, ed. Robin Morgan (New York: Vintage: Random House, 1970). (379) 219 Sutherland is, in fact, the second Chicana contributor to Sisterhood Is Powerful, Elizabeth Martínez. Martínez indeed was the founding editor of the New Mexican based Chicano newspaper El Grito del Norte, where Vasquez wrote regular columns and where the article was originally published. The name “Elizabeth Sutherland” is Martínez’s Anglo pseudonym, one that, at that point, she had employed for several years. Sutherland’s curious mediation, and the editor’s feeling that the introduction should be -- or needed to be -- included (given that none of the other essays in the anthology merited any sort of introduction), would be interesting in its own right. However, it is all the more so when one realizes that “Elizabeth Sutherland” is not in fact an Anglo feminist, but Vasquez’s Chicana editor writing under her Anglo-assumed name. Read with this knowledge, Martínez becomes the second Chicana contributor to the anthology; one with an extensive publication history, both before and subsequent to this contribution, and one arguably far better known (to the east coast Left community) than Vasquez would have been. 220 Knowing Martínez’s Sutherland identity changes the reading of her introduction and raises the interesting question of whether Martínez as Sutherland is, in fact, “passing” for white in Sisterhood Is Powerful. Elizabeth “Betita” Martínez was, at the time of the publication of Sisterhood Is Powerful, Vasquez’s editor at El Grito del Norte so had publications under her real name. However, as “Elizabeth Sutherland,” she had a publication history dating back to the mid-1960s as the author of accounts of both her civil rights work in the American south for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and for her accounts of visiting revolutionary Cuba. When writing for a late-1990s edited collection on leaders of second wave feminism, The Feminist Memoir Project, Martínez discussed her reasons for publishing under her Anglo pen name, explaining 221 [...] the early books on the Mississippi Summer Project and on revolutionary Cuba [were] published under the name of Elizabeth Sutherland because I thought it would have a more literary ring to it in the Eurocentric publishing world. Who would publish someone named Martínez then? 290 That Martínez knew (or felt) that this change in name was necessary in order to have her writing fairly evaluated and published is a reflection of the time and her knowledge of reader / publisher expectations. Like Ruiz de Burton almost one hundred years earlier, she was aware that her name might carry baggage for an English audience. Further, it evidences the lengths to which Chicana writers would go to have their texts published in the avenues that were available to them. Explained this way, her “passing” under the pen name of Sutherland is more practically utilitarian than subversive, at least for these early articles. However, Martínez’s use of her Sutherland name in the Sisterhood anthology to introduce Vásquez’s article seems different, 290 Elizabeth Martínez, "History Makes Us, We Make History," The Feminist Memoir Project: Voices from Women's Liberation, eds. Rachel Blau DuPlessis and Ann Barr Snitow, 1st ed. (New York: Three Rivers Press, 1998). (116) 222 more complex and, arguably, more subversive. Within the Sisterhood Is Powerful text, Elizabeth Sutherland's introduction of Vásquez is unique: no other article in the anthology, including those by other women of color, either merit or would be seen to require an introduction, thus making Vásquez’s piece seem somehow more subversive and important. The construction of the Sutherland / Martínez introduction is revealing about the assumptions both of the reader and Martínez herself. Read without the knowledge of Sutherland being a pseudonym for Martínez, the introduction reads and functions not unlike the nineteenth century white abolitionist -- also frequently female -- who introduced and vouched for the authenticity and veracity of the slave narratives. Elizabeth Sutherland would seem to call on her fellow Anglo readers, whom she predicts will find Vásquez's text “a shock, perhaps even a cop-out or ‘Tommish,’” telling them they should instead take Vásquez and what she has to say seriously. 291 Seeming to identify as one of them, 291 Sutherland, "An Introduction." 376 223 Sutherland asks these Anglo feminist readers to recognize that they, like most of the “militants in the Women's Liberation Movement” [...] are white, middle class in background and in the majority of the population. They have little gut understanding of the position of women as a colonized -- not merely oppressed -- group. 292 Having thus defined her readers, and made them assume the same about herself, Sutherland gives a brief sketch of the position of the colonized women. She traces the multiplicity of the Chicana position, with her subordination in her role as a woman of La Raza “overshadowed” by the common oppression of the male and female colonized. She also gives discusses of the role culture may have in oppressing “the Chicana” as a woman, but balances that by pointing out how, at the same time the Chicano community protects and even liberates her. Sutherland writes, again seeming to locate herself among those she is calling on, that 292 Sutherland, "An Introduction." 376. 224 [t]he middle class Anglo woman must beware of telling her black and brown sisters to throw off their chains -- without at least first understanding the origins and reasons for those “chains.” And also without first asking themselves: are there some aspects of these other life- styles from which we, with our advanced ideas, might still learn? 293 Advice such as this, as well as discussion of Chicana culture, reads quite differently depending on the reader’s understanding / belief about the position of the writer. Given the name “Sutherland,” and the author’s lack of identification as a “brown sister” or member of a colonized minority group, the assumption of the reader would be to assume the author’s whiteness. Yet read closely, Sutherland does not deceive outright. The author’s voice is consistently detached from both positions; it is an outsider’s or ethnographer’s gaze, distancing her from both Chicana and Anglo women. Martínez -as- Sutherland appears careful not to identify herself explicitly with either group. Yet by her doing so, the absence of clear identity in overwhelmingly white anthology is read as whiteness. 293 Sutherland, "An Introduction." 378. 225 I have struggled with the question of how to read this essay by Martínez -as- Sutherland. Is she in fact “passing” -- an idea that Martínez’s writing some thirty years later about why she adopted her Sutherland pen name would seem to indicate, at least in terms of her initial motivation being to see her civil rights and Cuba texts published. Her use of “Sutherland” was a device adopted to aid in the disemination of her work, recognizing that the opinions of someone writing with the name “Betita Martínez” were not likely to be taken seriously. 294 Yet, as mentioned previously, Martínez had been an active radical in New York before moving to New Mexico. She was a former member and leader in SNCC and likely one of the sole (if not the sole) Chicana participant in the organization New York Radical Women. Because of this, we can presume that Martínez was known by Robin Morgan as Elizabeth “Betita” Martínez, as well as by her Sutherland pseudonym. Her identity as Martínez was not occluded for the preface or essay in Sisterhood is Powerful because Morgan would 294 Martínez, "History Makes Us, We Make History." (116) 226 not have been willing to publish her as Martínez. Martínez’s publication history on both Chicano/a and Cuban issues, as well as her participation in social movements, would seem to have given her the right to expect to be included in the anthology under her “real” name, had she wished, perhaps with her Sutherland identity prominently explained -- something which would, in fact, happen in other publications in later years. Why then did Martínez use her Sutherland pen name for Sisterhood Is Powerful? An answer may be found in Chela Sandoval’s theories of radical oppositional movement politics, her Methodology of the Oppressed. 295 In her text, Sandoval proposes a theory, which she sees as having developed (at least in part) out of the United States minority women’s movement -- what Sandoval calls “U.S. third world feminism” -- as an answer to the postmodern problem of the mainstream co-opting the radical. The mechanism which Sandoval proposes is a theory of the differential that would allow (in this case) the Chicana feminist Martínez to become a “shape shifter,” or, more 295 Chela Sandoval, Methodology of the Oppressed (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2000). 227 explicitly, to seem to pass as white and thus have her ideas read by an Anglo feminist audience as coming from someone like them rather than from an other. Martínez’s transformation into her Sutherland identity would give her the power to move between the Chicana/o and feminist movements in order to further the radical goals of each, while also bridging the opposition between the two. The Martínez -as- Sutherland article / introduction on Chicana as colonized, coupled with Vásquez’s “The Mexican-American Woman” article, attempt to make clear the Chicana struggle for feminism as part of, rather than in addition or opposition to, either the larger Chicano movement or the larger feminist one. This combining of feminism with the Chicano struggle, perhaps, accounts for the concern regarding the article’s acceptance by the anthology’s Anglo readers, which Elizabeth Sutherland’s introduction attempts to mediate. Chela Sandoval, expanding on what she terms the “academic apartheid,” which -- she writes -- “insists on differences” between fields of ethnic studies and Euro American white feminism, “in spite of the profoundly similar theoretical and methodological foundations that underlie such 228 seemingly separate domains” is commenting on a similar issue 296 This segregation of Anglo feminism from racial and ethnic movements (such as the Chicano movement) put these movements into opposition with the even-then emerging theoretical work of U.S. third world feminism -- a theory which would refuse to be split between, but would rather try to bridge, the clear similarities between them. 297 Viewed through the lens of Sandoval’s theory of differential movement, Martínez’s use of her Sutherland persona is neither a simple attempt to “pass” as Anglo in order to see her work read and published -- as she writes her earlier publications were; nor, obviously, was it a rejection of her Chicana self in favor of an alternate white avatar. Instead, Martníez used her Sutherland identity because it was an effective means of including in Sisterhood Is Powerful multiple Chicana voices and ensuring those voices had the best chance of 296 Sandoval, Methodology of the Oppressed. (70). 297 Sandoval points out that this theoretical model was named by Gloria Anzáldua “la conciencia de la mestiza.” This, by Sandoval’s theorizing, is “capable of aligning such divided theoretical domains into intellectual and political coalition.” Sandoval, Methodology of the Oppressed. (71). 229 being received the way she wanted them to be. Martínez used her Sutherland identity, something she had created for another purpose, as a means around a different oppression because she believed she could be more effectively heard by doing so. In addition, placing Vásquez’s article into the appropriate context for the anthology’s reader, Martínez’s “introduction” gives over a significant amount of space -- almost half of the three-page text -- to discussing a passage by yet another Chicana, writer and artist Maria Varela. 298 Varela, like Martínez, was a member of SNCC in the early 1960s, as well as a writer, photographer and community activist. The two had moved to New Mexico in the late 1960s to cover the trial of Chicano land rights activists and were inspired to stay, help and found the newspaper El Grito. 299 As cited in the Sutherland introduction, Varela’s work does not speak of a sisterhood of feminist liberation, at least as it was being constructed in Robin Morgan’s anthology. Instead, Varela writes of the extended family in Chicano 298 Sutherland, "An Introduction." (377). 299 Roxanne Dunbar Ortiz, Outlaw Woman : A Memoir of the War Years, 1960-1975 (San Francisco: City Lights, 2001). (208) 230 social structure, explaining that “the big family -- is a fortress against the genocidal forces of the outside world.” For women who are part of it, Varela writes, “as a woman you know who you are.” 300 This notion of the family as center of the radical movement is an explicitly Chicano/a one. The sixth clause of El Plan Espiritual de Aztlán, emphasizing the family’s importance in the Chicano movement reads CULTURAL values of our people strengthen our identity and the moral backbone of the movement. Our culture unites and educates the family of La Raza towards liberation with one heart and one mind. [....] Our cultural values of life, family, and home will serve as a powerful weapon to defeat the gringo dollar value system and encourage the process of love and brotherhood. 301 This argument, the notion of a feminism that comes from within the family and that sexual oppression was causes the tool of white patriarchy (not part of Chicano culture) and internal colonialism was one which would be deployed strategically by Chicana feminists in the coming years, partly to deflect backlash against what was seen by 300 Sutherland, "An Introduction." (377). 301 Documents of the Chicano Struggle, (New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971). 231 some Chicanos as the “Anglo-ness” of feminism. 302 In addition to the exposure of Varela’s thoughts, Sutherland’s use of them gives her the opportunity to offer further explanation of the position of the Chicana as colonial woman in the United States, and would seem to offer a subtle and powerful critique of any “sisterhood” which would suggest to Chicanas that they abandon the defense offered by their community’s family-fortress. Martínez’s use of her Sutherland’ identity also has a playful, trickster element to it. While she writes under her Sutherland pseudonym for Sisterhood Is Powerful, Martínez does not attempt to hide her “real” identity completely. Instead, clues to Sutherland’s real identity are there: her demonstrated familiarity with Chicana texts and the position of Chicana women alone should make the reader suspect. A careful reader would also note that throughout her writing, despite her Anglo name, Sutherland never adopts the position of either Anglo or Chicana. Instead, Martínez-as-Sutherland speaks to and about each in turn, as though she exists outside of both, 302 Roth, Separate Roads to Feminism: Black, Chicana, and White Feminist Movements in America's Second Wave. (163-166) 232 perhaps employing journalistic detachment. Addressing the “middle class Anglo woman” she imagines the reader to be, Martínez-as- Sutherland writes ...[a]nd also without first asking themselves: are there perhaps some aspects of these other life-styles from which we with our advanced ideas might still learn.... Enriqueta Vasquez is a revolutionary, with her own tone of voice. Let Anglo women listen for her voice, not merely for echoes of their own. 303 Like earlier text, while this passage might at first seem to be speaking to “Anglo women,” as though she were one of them, a careful and more informed reading shows that the “we” is being given to the inner voice of Anglo women themselves, without the author ever explicitly stating her own membership. She distances herself from that collective “we” by ending the passage with “their own,” to point out her separation. Sutherland then addresses colonized women also as though from the outside (though at the same time offering a great deal of detail about Chicano culture), writing 303 Sutherland, "An Introduction." 378. 233 [a]t the same time, we can hope that women from colonized groups will listen with open minds to their Anglo sisters’ ideas about women’s liberation and then take another look at their own values. There is, for example, nothing worth preserving about the young Chicano male habit of fighting at a dance over some girl whom both hardly know -- to prove their manhood. There is, on the other hand, much to be gained by examining the “Anglo-style” idea that authoritarianism -- always male -- does not merely oppress women but also the masses; that the struggle for “Power to the People” is intimately linked to the women’s liberation struggle. 304 More unsettling, there is some question, as Martínez’s own later writing points out, as to whether what Martínez -as- Sutherland attributed in this 1970 essay to “Anglo-style” ideas were actually any ideas held by Anglo feminists at the time. There is no citation to indicate which feminism this comes from, though one might attribute it to the influence socialism. By contrast, Sandoval argues in Methodology of the Oppressed that this theory of interconnected oppression, with no oppression being paramount over another, is instead an outgrowth of the theories of United States third world 304 Sutherland, "An Introduction." 378-379. 234 feminism. 305 Sandoval’s theory is supported by Martínez’s 1990s revised version of this essay, where the last sentence of the previous quotation has been changed in a small but significant way, becoming [t]here is also much to be gained by considering the idea that male authoritarianism does not oppress women only, but also the masses -- many being people of color. In other words, feminism must be anti-racist (since vast numbers of women support racism) and anti-racism must be feminist (since half of those suffering racism are women). 306 This small revision would seem to put Martínez’s thesis in line with Sandoval’s, arguing that this theory was not an “Anglo style” feminist belief, but rather one which was an outgrowth of the work of U.S. feminists of color. Like the essay by Vásquez, the Sutherland essay was reprinted in the late 1990s in a collection of Elizabeth Martínez’s writings. Although Martínez doesn't directly say where it was originally 305 Sandoval, Methodology of the Oppressed. 306 Martínez, De Colores Means All of Us: Latina Views for a Multi- Colored Century. (183) 235 published, 307 she introduces the 1990s version of her 1970s text with the passage [r]elations between women of color and Anglo women have historically been complex and sometimes filled with conflict. The first part of this chapter, “Colonized Women: La Chicana,” was written in 1970 under the name Elizabeth Sutherland, at the height of both the Chicano movement and the women’s liberation movement. Its message still holds true today. 308 Her purpose in republishing the essay was different than her intention with respect to its original publication in Sisterhood Is Powerful. The essay was republished as another sort of introduction, this time of her own writing. It became the first half of a chapter entitled “Listen Up, Anglo Sisters,” and was followed by a second-half written specifically for the new collection, entitled “Caramba, Our Anglo Sisters Just Didn't Get it.” 307 While not saying directly where the “Introduction” was originally published (indeed, Liberation Now!, Sisterhood Is Powerful and Robin Morgan do not even merit entries in the book’s index), the essay itself has been re- titled “Colonized Women: La Chicana,” which echoes “Colonized Women: The Chicana,” the name given to the chapter in Sisterhood containing both Sutherland and Vásquez's essays. 308 Martínez, De Colores Means All of Us: Latina Views for a Multi- Colored Century. (182) 236 Yet, despite Martínez’s introduction, which makes it appear that the text is unchanged from its earlier publication, the original text was significantly revised between the original 1970 and late 1990s versions. These changes reflect perhaps both the author’s own evolution and, of course, the different role the essay has to play within each text. Her 1990s revision is not about the work of authors other than herself. There is, in fact, no mention of Enriqueta Vasquez or Maria Varela -- or, for that matter, Robin Morgan or Sisterhood Is Powerful. Rather, the essay is about Chicanas in general and exists to introduce what may be viewed as the essay’s own second half, transitioning with the following final paragraph Plagued by Western habits of either-or dualistic thinking, we may all fail to understand that race, class and gender interconnect to sustain a corporate ruling class. In the language of African-American essayist bell hooks, they are interlocking systems of oppression. Neither Latina nor Anglo women should yield to the temptation of making a hierarchy of oppressions where battles are fought over whether racism is “worse” than sexism, or class oppression is “deeper” than racism, etc. Instead of hierarchies we need bridges, which, after all, exist to make two ends meet. 309 309 Martínez, De Colores Means All of Us: Latina Views for a Multi- Colored Century. (184) 237 The transition between her original and more recent texts also makes clear Martínez’s own theoretical evolution. Her essay reflects the theoretical and political development of both the Chicano/a and feminist movements of the 1980s and 1990s, both in its referencing the 1980s writing of African American author bell hooks, and in making use of the “bridge” metaphor, which calls to mind the ground- breaking 1980s text edited by Gloria Anzáldua and Cherríe Moraga, This Bridge Called My Back.: Writings by Radical Women of Color. 310 When writing critically about Martínez’s revised work, I must make it very clear that I do not find anything negative about either her literary “passing” under her Elizabeth Sutherland pseudonym (if indeed “passing” is the right way to describe it), or of the idea of a writer / activist such as Martínez re-working her original works so that they more clearly reflect the evolution of her thinking. As Tania Modleski wrote in the introduction to Old Wives Tales and Other Women’s Stories in 1998 -- the same year that Martínez’s De Colores 310 Elsewhere in De Colores Means All of Us, Martínez explicitly discusses This Bridge Called My Back in a chapter devoted to the writings of Cherrie Moraga, recognizing Anzáldua and Moraga's work, in merging the Chicana with the feminist with the queer, as being “pioneering” (190). 238 text was published -- speaking of herself as a “seventies” or second wave feminist still actively involved in feminism, “why would they [younger critics] want to fossilize us when we have evolved?” 311 Instead, I think such development should be read as healthy and inspiring. Further, with this essay specifically, Martínez has used her writing to function as a facilitator / editor, first using both her connections to east coast feminism and her Sutherland pseudonym to present and better frame Vásquez’s essay and introducing Varela’s thinking as well. This creates a collaboration between three Chicana feminists (all part of the El Grito collective) rather than a single Mexican American Woman. Specific to Chicana feminism, the emergence of a theory based on evolution and rebuilding is much in keeping with the coalescence movement and disciplines which have been central to the development of Chicana studies as a unique discipline. 311 Tania Modleski, Old Wives Tales and Other Women’s Stories (New York: New York University Press, 1998). (3) 239 Chapter 3: Bibliography Alurista, Mary Ann Pacheco, and F.A. Cervantes, eds. Festival De Flor Y Canto : An Anthology of Chicano Literature. Los Angeles: University of Southern California Press, 1976. Babcox, Deborah, and Madeline Belkin, eds. Liberation Now! Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. Laurel ed. New York: Dell Pub. Co., 1971. Blackwell, Maylei. "Contested Histories: Las Hijas De Cucuhtémoc, Chicana Feminisms, and Print Culture in the Chicano Movement, 1968-1973." Chicana Feminisms : A Critical Reader. Eds. Gabriela F. Arredondo and et al. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003. xii, 391 p. Boggs, Colleen Glenney. "Margaret Fuller's American Translation." American Literature 76.1 (2004): 31-58. Breines, Wini. The Trouble between Us: An Uneasy History of White and Black Women in the Feminist Movement. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2006. Chao, Lien. "Anthologizing the Collective: The Epic Struggles to Establish Chinese Canadian Literature in English." Essays on Canadian Writing 57.Winter (1995): 145-170. Chávez, Ernesto. Mi Raza Primero!" (My People First!): Nationalism, Identity, and Insurgency in the Chicano Movement in Los Angeles, 1966-1978. Berkeley CA: University of California Press, 2002. 240 Chevigny, Bell Gail. "The Long Arm of Censorship: Mythmaking in Margaret Fuller's Time and Our Own." Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Societ 2.2 (1976): 450-460. Cotera, Marta P. The Chicana Feminist. Austin, TX: Information System Development, 1977. Dickenson, Donna. Margaret Fuller: Writing a Woman's Life. Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire: Macmillan, 1993. Documents of the Chicano Struggle. New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971. Dotson, Bill. "Watch Dvds of Chicano Poets from the 1973 Festival De Flor Y Canto". Los Angeles, 2009. LibWire. (May 6, 2009): USC Libraries. April 10, 2010 2010. <http://dotsx.usc.edu/newsblog/index.php/main/comments/watch _dvds_of_chicano_poets_from_the_1973_festival_flor_y_canto/>. Duberman, Martin. James Russell Lowell. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1966. Fuller, Margaret. Summer on the Lakes in 1843. Prairie State Books. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1991. ---. Woman in the Nineteenth Century. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1980. Fuller, Margaret, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and George Ripley. "The Dial : A Magazine for Literature, Philosophy, and Religion." Boston: Weeks, Wiley and Putnam, 1840. 4 vols. García, Alma M. Chicana Feminist Thought : The Basic Historical Writings. New York: Routledge, 1997. Garcia, Ignacio M. Chicanismo: The Forging of a Militant Ethos among Mexican Americans. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1997. 241 González-Berry, Erlinda. "La Mujer Chicana." Women's Studies Newsletter 2.1 (1974): 3. Gramsci, Antonio. "Hegemony, Intellectuals and the State." Cultural Theory and Popular Culture : A Reader. Ed. John Storey. 2nd ed ed. Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire ; New York: Prentice Hall, 1998. 210-216. Gura, Philip F. American Transcendentalism : A History. 1st ed. New York: Hill and Wang, 2007. ---. American Transcendentalism: A History. 1st ed. New York, NY: Hill and Wang, 2007. Kilcup, Karen L. "Embodied Pedagogies: Femininity, Diversity, and Community in Anthologies of Women's Writing, 1836-2009." Legacy 26.2 (2009): 299-328. King, Katie. Theory in Its Feminist Travels: Conversations in U.S. Women's Movements. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1994. Lauter, Paul. "Taking Anthologies Seriously." MELUS 29.3/4 (2004): 19- 39. Licón, Gustavo. "¡La Unión Hace La Fuerza! (Unity Creates Strength!) M.E.Ch.A. And Chicana/O Student Activism in California, 1967- 1999." Dissertation. University of Southern California, 2009. Longeaux y Vasquez, Enriqueta. "The Mexican-American Woman." Sisterhood Is Powerful. Ed. Robin Morgan. New York: Vintage Books: Random House, 1970. 379-384. ---. "The Woman of La Raza." Aztlán : An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. Eds. Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner. [1st ed. New York: Vintage Books, 1972. 272-278. 242 ---. "The Woman of La Raza." Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings. Ed. Alma M. Garcia. New York: Routledge, 1997. ---. "The Woman of La Raza." Magazín 1.4 (1972): 66-68. ---. "The Women of La Raza." El Grito del Norte 2 (1969): 8-9. Longeaux y Vásquez, Enriqueta. "The Woman of La Raza." Aztlán : An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. Eds. Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner. 1st ed. New York: Vintage Books, 1972. 272-278. Longeaux y Vásquez, Enriqueta, Dionne Espinoza, and Lorena Oropeza. Enriqueta Vasquez and the Chicano Movement : Writings from El Grito Del Norte. Hispanic Civil Rights Series. Houston, Tex.: Arte Público Press, 2006. Lucero-Trujillo, Marcela Christine. "Machismo Is Part of Our Culture." The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States. Ed. Dexter Fisher. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980. ---. "No More Cookies Please." The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States. Ed. Dexter Fisher. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980. Martínez, Elizabeth. De Colores Means All of Us: Latina Views for a Multi-Colored Century. Cambridge, MA: South End Press, 1998. ---. "History Makes Us, We Make History." The Feminist Memoir Project: Voices from Women's Liberation. Eds. Rachel Blau DuPlessis and Ann Barr Snitow. 1st ed. New York: Three Rivers Press, 1998. xii, 531 p. Martínez, Elizabeth “Betita”. "A View from New Mexico: Recollections of the Movimiento Left." Monthly Review (2002). 1/30/06. 243 Mason, Alane Salierno. "Buona Sera, Social Clubs?" Boston Review.October / November 2003 (2003). Modleski, Tania. Old Wives Tales and Other Women’s Stories. New York: New York University Press, 1998. Moreno, Dorinda. La Mujer En Pie De Lucha : Y La Hora Es Ya! Mexico: Espina del Norte, 1973. Morgan, Robin. Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. New York: Vintage Books, 1970. Muñoz Jr., Carlos Youth, Identity, Power: The Chicano Movement. New York, NY: Verso Press, 2007. Nelson, Cary. "Multiculturalism without Guarantees: From Anthologies to the Social Text." The Journal of the Midwest Modern Language Association 26.1 (1993): 47-57. Norman, Brian. "The Consciousness-Raising Document, Feminist Anthologies, and Black Women in Sisterhood Is Powerful." Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies 27.3 (2006): 38-64. Ortiz, Roxanne Dunbar. Outlaw Woman : A Memoir of the War Years, 1960-1975. San Francisco: City Lights, 2001. Roth, Benita. Separate Roads to Feminism: Black, Chicana, and White Feminist Movements in America's Second Wave. Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Sandoval, Chela. Methodology of the Oppressed. Theory out of Bounds V. 18. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2000. ---. Methodology of the Oppressed. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2000. 244 Sutherland, Elizabeth. "An Introduction." Sisterhood Is Poweful: An Anthology of Writing from the Women's Liberation Movement. Ed. Robin Morgan. New York: Vintage: Random House, 1970. Sutherland, Elizabeth, and Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez. "Colonized Women: The Chicana." Liberation Now! Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. Eds. Deborah Babcox and Madeline Belkin. A Laurel Original. New York: Dell Publishing Co., 1971. Valdez, Luis, and Stan Steiner, eds. Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. New York, NY: Knopf, 1972. 245 Chapter 4 Voices from the Divide American but hyphenated, viewed by Anglos as perhaps exotic, perhaps inferior, definitely different, viewed by Mexicans as alien, (their eyes say, "You may speak Spanish but you're not like me") an American to Mexicans a Mexican to Americans a handy token sliding back and forth between the fringes of both worlds by smiling by masking the discomfort of being pre-judged Bi-laterally. 312 312 Pat Mora, Chants (Houston TX: Arte Publico Press, 1985). 246 Bridging Voices Educated by an eccentric father in the style of a intellectual nineteenth-century male rather than a woman of her class, Margaret Fuller’s intellect and education were seen in their time as anomalies. Her exceptional status accorded her the privilege of being part of Transcendentalists inner circles and included in discussions and friendships with both Ralph Waldo Emerson and David Henry Thoreau, among others. Yet her intellectualism had a cost. She was also seen as transgressing the bounds of her nineteenth century society. Commenting in unflattering language on her freakish status, Edger Allan Poe stated “[h]umanity is divided into men, women and Margaret Fuller.” 313 Yet as a women, she remained an outsider within her intellectual circles, criticized for being outspoken as a public intellectual. Partly in reaction against this idea that there were areas of discourse best left to men, Margaret Fuller lead a series of women’s meetings she called “Conversations” in the Boston area. Beginning on November 6, 1839, attendance for the weekly meetings 313 Joseph Jay Deiss, The Roman Years of Margaret Fuller; a Biography (New York: Crowell, 1969). 247 was about twenty-five participants from Boston’s ranks of educated women. While dialogs, meetings, societies and lectures -- along with conversations between individuals -- were important parts of the Transcendental movement but these meetings, which were held weekly for four years, were unique in their focus on women, both as subjects of the meetings and participants. These meetings, according to historian Philip Gura, functioned as “consciousness-raising seminars” for “educated women” who wanted an education of the sort and subjects (with topics ranging from Greek mythology, American nationalism to fine arts) usually afforded to men of her social class. 314 The importance of Fuller’s work, both in her commitment to women’s education and her writing of Women in the Nineteenth Century 315 to first wave feminism is well documented. Yet in thinking of Fuller’s “Conversations,” I find myself thinking not so much of young first-wave feminists like nineteen year-old suffrage writer 314 Philip F. Gura, American Transcendentalism: A History, 1st ed. (New York, NY: Hill and Wang, 2007). (133-134) 315 Margaret Fuller, Woman in the Nineteenth Century (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1980). 248 Caroline Healey (Dall) who were influenced by their inclusion in these meetings, but the majority of women without access to either education or Transcendentalism’s intellectual society. This would be the Irish women, like those caricatured by Ruiz de Burton’s Who Would Have Thought It? 316 , who cleaned these middle class and upper class women’s houses. Or those like escaped slave Harriet Jacobs who would flee to Boston in 1844 only to find her story / former slave’s body used to promote the cause of a rather sensational abolition. 317 Whatever these disenfranchised women’s intellectual gifts might have been, spaces like Fuller’s conversations would not have been open to them. As Alice Walker would write “what does it mean for a black woman to be an artist in our grandmothers‘ time? In our great-grandmothers‘ day. It is a question with an answer cruel enough 316 María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, Who Would Have Thought It?, Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication, eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita (Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1995). 317 Harriet A. Jacobs, Lydia Maria Child, John S. Jacobs and Jean Fagan Yellin, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Enl. ed. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2000). (xv-xvi) 249 to stop the blood.” 318 Their ability to resist, to demand inclusion of their thoughts and experiences was limited to individual texts, like those of Jacobs, whose thoughts on her white abolitionist patrons are known mostly through her surviving letters. Acts of Resistance In the introduction to the anthology On Anthologies: Politics and Pedagogy, editor Jeffrey Di Leo cites a distinction made by William Germano between collections, which he says are a “gathering of new or mostly new writing,” and anthologies, which he says are a gathering of previously published or mostly previously published work. Di Leo eventually defines them both as anthologies for the sake of his own text. 319 Likewise, in the context of this discussion, all of the “gatherings” are referred to as anthologies. This chapter focuses on anthologies as textual communities made up by women of color -- 318 Alice Walker, In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens (New York, NY: Mariner Books, 1983). (233) 319 Jeffrey R. Di Leo, ed., On Anthologies: Politics and Pedagogy (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2004). (3-4) 250 especially Chicanas-- talking back to both white feminism and their Chicano intellectual communities, while at the same time, and more importantly, finding they were also speaking to each other. While Chicanas had been included as contributors in other anthologies / collections of Chicano and feminist writing, as well as, notably, the previous year in Dexter Fisher’s literature anthology The Third Woman 320 , beginning, largely in the 1980s, Chicanas became anthology editors, speaking for and to themselves. In their editorial role they facilitated other Chicanas and women of color as writers, creating spaces for these women to engage in intellectual discourse and be distributed and read on a larger scale than could be permitted by earlier underground newspapers and journals. These anthologies and their communities of writers and readers created textual communities in and surrounding these texts. While there are a few other early examples of Chicana edited anthologies, including Dorinda Moreno’s 320 Dexter. Fisher, ed., The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980). 251 La Mujer, 321 published in 1973 during the height of the Chicano movement, the two I focus on here are Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa’s edited anthology of women of color, This Bridge Called My Back 322 (published in 1981) and the Chicana studies anthology Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race and Gender, 323 (published in 1986) edited by Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M. Sierra. Both books have publication histories that are themselves acts of resistance, reflecting how the books were constructed as well as how each has been presented, received and used. The fact both anthologies remained in print (and in significant classroom use) for more than twenty years after their original publications, which speaks to the anthologies’ continued 321 Dorinda Moreno, La Mujer En Pie De Lucha : Y La Hora Es Ya! (Mexico: Espina del Norte, 1973). This anthology, though significant due to its early publication date, only had a small distribution and has long been difficult to get ahold of outside Chicano/a studies archives. 322 Gloria and Cherríe Moraga Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (New York, NY: Kitchen Table / Women of Color Press, 1981). 323 Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M. Sierra, eds., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (Colorado Springs, Colo.: National Association for Chicano Studies, 1990). 252 relevance. far beyond the point most anthologies cease to be in use. 324 It also points to each texts’ ability to reframe and reposition itself based on editorial updates and inclusions made by each anthology’s forewords. The years following the 1970 publication of the feminist anthology Sisterhood Is Powerful 325 and the 1972 publication of the Chicano anthology Aztlán: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature, 326 were ones of increasingly explicit tension within and between Left organizations and communities in the United States. As movements fragmented and burned out, feminism was divided between the liberal / radical “liberation movement” (the point of view represented by Sisterhood is Powerful) and the more traditional / conservative equal rights one (represented by NOW and its work on 324 This Bridge Called My Back is currently out of print and publisher’s stock as of 2009. This is not due lack of demand -- in fact used copies of the book currently sell for several times the cover price. Chicana Voices has also been out of print now for several years. 325 Robin Morgan, Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement (New York: Vintage Books, 1970). 326 Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner, eds., Aztlán: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature (New York, NY: Knopf, 1972). 253 the Equal Rights Amendment). At the same time the larger Chicano nationalist movement, always divided regionally, was split internally along Marxist, Maoist and nationalist lines. Chicana feminists, writing in the period and discussing it afterwords speak of the uncomfortable in-between position of being either the sole Latinas or women of color in a largely white feminist movement, represented by the situation of Enriqueta Vasquez’s role as “The Mexican American Woman” in Sisterhood is Powerful 327 or the experience of being called vendidas / sellouts for espousing feminist concerns in the Chicano movement, and potentially dividing the movement. While Martín-Rodríguiz wrote that Chicanas experienced “eventual disenchantment with Euro-American feminism,” 328 this statement is inaccurate insofar as largely Chicanas were never enchanted with either the liberal or radical streams of U.S. feminism. 327 Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Mexican-American Woman," Sisterhood Is Powerful, ed. Robin Morgan (New York: Vintage Books: Random House, 1970). 328 Manuel M. Martín-Rodríguez, Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature, 1st ed. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003). (69) 254 While some, like Gloria Anzaldúa, were involved with white feminist organizations as early as the 1970s, most were politically active Chicanas were active via their communities’ Chicano movements. 329 Chicana participation in feminist organizations was much less widespread. Yet, as publications throughout the 1960s and 1970s Chicano movement attests, while not aligning themselves with Anglo feminism, Chicanas had been speaking out about sexism in the movement almost from the movement’s beginnings. Enriqueta Vasquez’s essay about the position of the Chicana in the movement was, after all, written about the experience of sexism at the Denver Youth Conference, with their protest marginalized as being distructive to the larger goals of the Chicano movement. When This Bridge Called My Back, an assault on racism among feminists, was written and published in 1979, engaging feminists on issues of race and racism in the feminist community, it would be several years before the National Association of Chicano studies held their conference on centered on Chicanas, finally discussion the contributions of Chicanas 329 Gloria Anzaldúa and AnaLouise Keating, Interviews = Entrevistas (New York: Routledge, 2000). (46-48) 255 and the divisions created by sexism. This themed conference, and the papers coming out of it, formed the basis of Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race and Gender. Between the two collections / anthologies, the textual communities formed by each text would frame discussion of Chicana feminism in both Chicana/o studies and women’s studies in the coming decades. Defining Textual Community For Chicano narrative, history is the sub text that we must recover because history itself is the subject of its discourse. History cannot be conceived as the mere 'background' or 'context' for this literature; rather, history turns out to be the decisive determinant of the form and content of the literature. 330 Although I was not aware of it when I first began this project, the term textual community is neither new nor original, but is rather a term which evolved out of reader response criticism. The expression textual community may be used broadly, as Juliana Spahr does in 330 Ramón Saldívar, Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Difference (Madison, WI: The University of Wisconson Press, 1990). 256 Everybody’s Autonomy: Connective Reading and Collective Identity, to discuss the sense of connections readers of an individual work feel toward each other about their collective, dynamic participation in the text through their shared experience as readers of it. 331 In this usage, Spahr builds on the earlier usage by Thomas Kuhn who wrote “to be literate one needed to know the words, but also to participate in the discourse of a textual community,” meaning that within that community, one knows whether an individual text is important and, again within that community, how to read and understand it. 332 While Kuhn and Spahr’s definitions of textual community have significance for Chicana writings including This Bridge Called My Back and Chicana Voices, especially in discussions of their importance as consciousness raising texts, I am using the term to convey a different sort of community. Textual communities, for the sake of this project, refers specifically to a group of writers and editors who identify with 331 Juliana Spahr, Everybody’s Autonomy: Connective Reading and Collective Identity (Tuscaloosa AL: The University of Alabama Press, 2001). 332 Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 3rd ed. (Chicago, Ill.: University of Chicago Press, 1996). 257 each other as part of, or as representing, a larger community or movement, and / or are identified by readers as belonging to this common collective publication. This intertextual reader and writer identification would have been the case with the Transcendentalist writers, editors and their readers in the case of the The Dial who not only saw themselves as connected, but were seen by their readers as participating in a larger movement, something which the readers also did by engaging with the texts. Likewise, in an examination of the writings of Chicana feminism, the role of specific newspapers, presses and journals in the formation of these textual communities is significant, though, in the 1960s and 1970s many started out as actual physical collectives and communities. The textual communities created by these publications began as ways of reaching out to communicate their ideas to a larger audience, connecting with other Chicanas who felt isolated, unable to connect with physical communities or collectives. The communities of writers and readers created by these texts frequently lasted well beyond the publication run of the journal or even the life- cycle of the press. Textual communities are, therefore for the 258 purpose of this text, defined as groups of writers and artists who individually share a common artistic and / or political vision and become identified by readers as part of a discursive whole. 333 My definition of textual community begins with and draws heavily on the historical and sociological studies of physical communal settlements in the United States described as “developmental communalism.” Donald Pitzer, an American historian specializing in the study of communal societies, writes that the three central assumptions of developmental communalism are: First, communal living is a generic social construction available to all peoples, governments and movements. Second, communal structuring usually is adopted in an early stage of development (or during a crisis) because of the security, solidarity and ease of experimentation it promises. Third, communal arrangements that are not adjusted over time to changing realities or long-range objectives may contribute to the decline or demise of the original movements, governments or peoples who choose them. 334 333 In the case of a significant text like This Bridge Called My Back, the readers themselves can come to identify with the text so strongly that they too become part of and participate in the textual community. 334 Donald E Pitzer, ed., America’s Communal Utopias (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 1997). (xviii) 259 Using Pitzer’s three assumptions but opening them further to use in order to discuss text-centered communities, the textual communities formed by collectively-run and relatively short-lived 1970s Chicana- edited journals and newspapers such as the publications Hijas de Cuauhtemoc, 335 Encuentro Femenil, 336 Regeneration 337 or El Grito del 335 The student newspaper, Hijas de Cuauhtemoc was a student publication dedicated to promoting awareness of Chicana feminism and the issues surrounded it. It was published beginning in 1971 out of California State University, Long Beach. It emerged out of the Chicana feminist organization of the same name there, a group formed in 1969 due to Chicanas feelings of isolation with both the largely white campus and the male dominated Chicano groups. The newspaper ceased publication later that same year, but evolved in 1973 into the Chicana journal, Encuentro Femenil. From Benita Roth, Separate Roads to Feminism: Black, Chicana, and White Feminist Movements in America's Second Wave (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 2004). Maylei Blackwell, "Contested Histories: Las Hijas De Cucuhtémoc, Chicana Feminisms, and Print Culture in the Chicano Movement, 1968-1973," Chicana Feminisms : A Critical Reader, eds. Gabriela F. Arredondo and et al (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003). 336 Chicana feminist journal run out of California State University Long Beach, published between 1973-1975. 337 Union and Chicano movement newspaper published in the 1970s by Francisca Flores, in Los Angeles. 260 Norte 338 can be discussed as textual communities as well as physical collectives. 339 These early publications played a significant part in the development of Chicana feminist writings, and had influence which lasted far longer than the short-lived publication history of each journal, partly because they evolve out of these physical collectives and communities into textual communities -- what Chicana scholar Maylei Blackwell calls “print communities.” 340 Via re-printing, their writings were distributed far wider than each newspaper’s relatively small printings would, moving between Chicana/o publications and communities -- Enriqueta Vasquez’s text 341 , “The Women of La Raza” with its multiple re-printings and re-publications is an example of a text gaining cultural capital by its distribution in multiple venues. 338 A weekly Chicano newpaper published by a largely Chicana collective in northern New Mexico from 1968 to through 1973 in support of Chicano land rights. See Chapter 3. 339 This list is one of samples rather than an exhaustive chronology. For a more detailed list see: Marta P. Cotera, The Chicana Feminist (Austin, TX: Information System Development, 1977). 340 Blackwell, "Contested Histories: Las Hijas De Cucuhtémoc, Chicana Feminisms, and Print Culture in the Chicano Movement, 1968-1973." (59) 341 Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "The Women of La Raza," El Grito del Norte 2 (1969). 261 Rather than seeing these papers as having “failed” by virtue of their small print runs and often short lives, these collectives can be judged to have succeeded to the degree they both furthered the goals that prompted their founding and influenced the development of their participants who continued to engage in activist writing. Not all anthologies would fit this definition of textual community, but collections that represent their communities, speaking both for and to them, such as Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race and Gender and This Bridge Called My Back, do. As Barbara Christian wrote in her discussion of anthologies, one of the first functions of a women’s representative community anthology is to “confront [...] the issue as to whether a community of women writers actually represent their community.” 342 The textual community created via the Chicana anthology is created by these imaginings -- that is, the authors become a community as they imagine their own connection (whether or not they have face-to-face connection) and 342 Barbara Christian, "The Case of Shaping an Anthology of Caribbean Women Writers," The Ethnic Canon, ed. Davis Palumbo-Lui (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1995). (257-258) 262 representation of Chicanas and that connection between authors is reified by their readers who see the writers as connected to each other and themselves. Emerging Chicanas Within the context of the “mi raza primera” nationalism within the Chicano movement, and the oneness of the “sisterhood is powerful” nature of United States Anglo feminism with its sweeping essentialism, Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez attempted to balance her identities as a Chicana with her feminist sensibilities, refusing to divide one from the other. She wrote in 1971 “Soy Chicana Primero,” --- “I am Chicana first” 343 , rejecting Anglo feminism, while also embracing her identity as a Chicana woman. In doing so, she anticipates Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa’s split identification This Bridge Called My Back as well as the Chicana engagement with Chicano studies that culminated in Chicana Voices. Vasquez does so by embracing her female Chicana identity, one which refuses to be split 343 Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez, "Soy Chicana Primero," El Cuaderno 1.1 (1971). 263 further but also by declaring that her loyalty to the Chicano cause and community is definite and absolute. The movement is defined as “home” as she writes that “[we] remember Raza is our home ground and family and we have strong basic issues and grievances as people” but at the same time there is a recognition of her female identity, the “a” picked out from the universalizing “o.” While this is, on one hand, a challenge to a feminist liberation movement that might require “sisterhood” above all else (and a defensive statement against accusations of disloyalty), its use of the female and female authorship also offered resistance to the Chicano notion that Chicanas could be subsumed under the single term “Chicano.” The text of “El Plan de Aztlán,” like that of Emerson and Chavez, speaks in the male voice to the male audience. Women must hope they are included, if indeed they are, as part of the universal collective masculine. But in writing “Soy Chicana Primero,” the “a” is not universalized beyond the feminine -- the speaker / author therefore must be female. At the same time, this feminine voice identifies herself as part of a Chicana/o whole, rather than with the more 264 universal “woman” or ”feminist.” She is not first a woman, but first a Chicana. Of Bays and Bridges The story of the origins of This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, a book which after twenty years in print was called “the women of color feminist classic” 344 is one that has been retold many times in the forewords to new editions and critical reflections on the text, itself almost becoming a myth. The book was conceived, at least in part, as an act of intervention in feminism. In 1979, Gloria Anzaldúa, a young and relatively unpublished writer in her twenties, living in the Bay Area was invited to a writer’s retreat north of San Francisco. She attended on a scholarship which was offered for women of color and working class women. Anzaldúa found her treatment, as the only woman of color to be dismissive and alienating; in response she imagined a book where women of color 344 Martha Arevalo Duffield and Karina Lissette Cespedes, "Practicing Transgression: Radical Women of Color for the 21st Century," Meridians 3.1 (2002). (125) 265 would be able to speak out and back to white feminists, resisting too easy universalizations. With the encouragement of Merlin Stone, the retreat organizer, she wrote the call papers and contributions which reads like a battle cry We want to express to all women -- especially to white middle class women -- the experiences which divide us as feminists; we want to examine the incidences of intolerance, prejudice and and denial of difference within the feminist movement. We intend to explore the causes and sources of, and solutions to these divisions. We want to create a definition that expands what “feminist” means to us. 345 When Anzadúa came back to San Francisco, she shared both her experience and the call for papers with Cherríe Moraga, a friend and writer also in her twenties, and asked her to co-edit the anthology. While the call for papers was distributed nationally, insofar as the resources of Anzaldúa and Moraga would allow it to be, This Bridge’s contributors are drawn largely from the San Francisco Bay community of lesbians of color of which they were part. Despite Anzaldúa and Moraga’s position as first-time editors without formal 345 Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, Women of Color Series, Expanded 3rd ed. (Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 2002). 266 institutional affiliations, the book was compiled, edited and published by the “white feminist” Persephone Press in 1981, only two years after the call went out. This first edition sold out quickly. When Persephone went out of business, the book was republished in 1984 with a new foreword by Kitchen Table Press, a collective of women of color. As Kayann Short notes, even the text making note of this, commenting “[a]fter many months of negotiations, the co-editors were finally able to retrieve control of the book” 346 speaks to “tales of struggle, it speaks of power, pain and loss” while also celebrating the book’s republication by a collective of women of color. 347 The cover of this edition, the one most readers of the text will be familiar with, is a blood red burgandy with yellow lettering depicting the profile of woman on her hands and knees, stretched out as if to form a across the cover bridge with her body. The title text is positioned toward the, slightly overlapping the woman’s body at both the top and bottom. 346 Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (unnumbered page) 347 Kayann Short, "Coming to the Table: The Differential Politics of This Bridge Called My Back," Genders.19 (1994). (ProQuest version) 267 The yellow text is bold, with both the title and subtitle text the same size and font. Figure 4: Cover Art from This Bridge Called My Back (1984). This edition published from 1984 - 2002. 268 For its twentieth anniversary, in 2002, This Bridge Called My Back was republished as an expanded new edition by Third Woman Press. 348 The revised edition had new forewords by both Anzaldúa and Moraga, updates on the contributors and included period artworks by women of color. This reprinted edition, currently out of print, sells for more than $100 through used book dealers, 349 speaking to the continued demand for This Bridge. Its republication was celebrated by a four-day conference “Practicing Transgression: Radical Women of Color for the 21st Century” held at UC Berkeley. As two participants wrote [t]he conference focused on the scholarly and activist legacy and impact of This Bridge Called My Back and showcased how This Bridge has inspired the work of many activists and scholars inside and outside the United States. 350 348 Moraga and Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. 349 Used copies of the earlier 1984 edition also currently sells for excess the original cover price. 350 Arevalo Duffield and Cespedes, "Practicing Transgression: Radical Women of Color for the 21st Century." (125) 269 The cover design of the 2002 edition (by Robert Barkaloff) changed significantly, with it changing the focus of the text. The new cover uses a photo “Body Tracks” from Cuban American artist Ana Mendieta (1948 - 1985) occupies the center of the cover. The text “This Bridge” is highlighted in yellow against the book’s black background with the text “Called My Back” wrapping the right edge of the art. No longer the same size nor focus, the book’s subtitle “Writings by Radical Women of Color” is underneath the artwork in a significantly smaller yellow font. It is a beautiful design; yet the new layout is less assertive, less radical. At the same time the new edition remakes its cover, it also remakes its own creation story. Anzaldúa offers a new vision of This Bridge’s origins, writing in her new foreword The seeds of this book came to me in the mid-seventies in a graduate English class taught by a “white” male professor at the University of Texas at Austin. As a Chicana I felt invisible, alienated from the gringo university and dissatisfied with both el movimiento Chicano and the feminist movement. 351 351 Moraga and Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (xxxv) 270 Figure 5: Cover Art from This Bridge Called My Back (2002). This was the twentieth anniversary edition published in 2002. 271 This new foreword makes Anzadúa’s earlier connection with the Chicano movement explicit, remaking This Bridge as a text protesting not just against the white feminist movement, but also questioning her exclusion at a lesbian and woman from her Chicano community. By contrast, Moraga uses her 2001 foreword to reflect on the global effect of 9/11, writing of her feeling against “Amerika" writing [o]h yes I am a traitor, a traitor to the geopolitical borders that divide nations of people, which separate me from emotionally identifying with the loss and death of human relatives across the globe. Who are truly my allies? Certainly not those US leaders (white or white- minded) who exercise genocide in my name. 352 This new foreword moves This Bridge Called My Back into discussions of transnational / cosmopolitical feminism, moving it beyond its roots as a protest against “white middle class women.” In 1997 when I first began researching what would become the foundation of this chapter, my initial conception was to trace the origins and issues of Chicana feminism prior to the 1980s publications of the anthologies This Bridge Called My Back and 352 Moraga and Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (xxvi) [italics in original] 272 Chicana Voices. At the time of the my initial research, I imagined some sort of a non-ideological Chicana feminism appearing perhaps in the mid-1970s out of which the formulations in This Bridge grew. This was in keeping with the mythology, taught to me in my undergraduate women’s studies classes, that second wave feminism was the product of primarily white feminism, while Chicanas were engaged, to the extent they were involved in the Left movements in the Chicano movement, later adapting as their own parts of second wave feminism. 353 Instead, what is evident from reading Chicana writings from the late 1960s through to the late 1970s was an energetic publication history, engaged in Chicana issues dating back to the late 1960s. As a “disordering struggle” within the Chicano nation, Chicanas have worked to reshape Chicano discourse from the movement’s beginnings. 354 These Chicana feminist writings’ theoretical 353 This was the trajectory taught in my women’s studies classes in the 1990s, with feminism of women of color emerging in the 1980s. 354 Laura Elisa Perez, "El Disorden, Nationalisms and Chicano/a Aesthetics," Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State, eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999). 273 engagement kept pace with and ultimately refashioned the nationalist project, as documented in Chapter 3 and further by Alma M. Garcia’s research into Chicana discourse. 355 However, while Anzaldúa and Moraga’s writings in This Bridge -- and even more so with their individual post-Bridge publications of Loving in the War Years 356 and Borderlands / La Frontera 357 -- are aware of of their identity as Chicanas, there is largely not a direct line of engagement in This Bridge Called My Back with earlier Chicana feminist writing. Clearly, there are problems with starting any discussion of Chicana feminism with This Bridge Called My Back, though it did change what came after in feminism, Chicano studies and, to a large extent came to define the Chicana feminism which followed it. This was a very different time in Chicano/a studies, where sexuality was not openly discussed. As Catrióna Rueda Esquibel writes 355 Alma M Garcia, "The Development of Chicana Feminist Discourse, 1970 - 1980," Gender and Society 3.2 (1989).; Alma M. García, Chicana Feminist Thought : The Basic Historical Writings (New York: Routledge, 1997). 356 Cherríe Moraga, Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios (Boston, MA: South End Press, 1983). 357 Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza (San Fransisco, CA: Aunt Lute Books, 1987). 274 [i]t’s crucial to recognize that the articulations of feminist goals and struggles within the Chicano/a movement were marked by a homophobic backlash in which all Chicana feminists were subject to lesbian baiting, at both personal and professional levels. Both heterosexual and lesbian Chicanas were injured in this “purge.” 358 Yet it must also be noted that This Bridge, as a book, is not a solely Chicana (or even Latina) anthology, nor is it aimed primarily at a Chicana or Chicano audience. The Chicanas writing in the anthology had largely not been published before and do not, by in large refer to earlier Chicana feminist discussions, with the notable exception of Norma Alarcón’s contribution. 359 Perhaps the anxiety in “Pre-Bridge” Chicana feminism with being identified with the Anglo feminist movement in part, reflected Chicanas’ anxiety over being identified with the perceived anti-male, lesbian white women’s movement. At the same time, both Moraga and Anzaldúa were engaged with white 358 Catrióna Rueda Esquibel, With Her Machete in Her Hand : Reading Chicana Lesbians, Chicana Matters Series, 1st ed. (Austin, Tex.: University of Texas Press, 2006). (3) 359 Norma Alarcón, "Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Revison through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object," This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, ed. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa (New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981). 275 feminism -- this was where the inspiration for This Bridge Called My Back came. In interviews discussing the construction of This Bridge, Anzaldúa tells of being inspired to construct the anthology out of her experience of alienation and isolation coming out of a women’s writing workshop. 360 The writings in This Bridge Called My Back attempt to address the alienation of being a women within Chicana feminism who seems not to exist, a Chicana lesbian. The transgressive position of the lesbian of color is discussed by This Bridge and is often positioned (and indeed has in some ways positioned itself) in opposition to Anglo feminism in the United States. By engaging white feminists directly in debate, Moraga and Anzaldúa offer a possibility of connection 361 via understanding. At its best, the anthology is a call to action and a call for unity within the larger feminist movement. The text makes no like engagement with Chicanos or men of color. 360 Anzaldúa and Keating, Interviews = Entrevistas. 361 The possibility of this connection is made very explicit in the Bridge acknowledgments thanking white feminists Adrienne Rich and Merlin Stone for their support and inspiration. In addition, although most are familiar with Bridge’s publication by Kitchen Table Press (a collective press run by women of color), the anthology was first published by Persphone Press, a white lesbian-owned and publishing house. 276 In her Preface to the 1981 edition, Moraga sets the (white)lesbian separatist agenda in opposition to the needs and goals of a Chicana feminism or a feminism of women of color and in doing so, questions the radicalism of the separatist feminist position. 362 Moraga does this by taking clear exception to the lesbian separatist utopia, which Moraga sees as an abandonment of their communities and men of color. However in making her directly confrontational rejection [n]o thank you sisters. I can’t prepare myself for a revolutionary packet that makes no sense when I leave the white suburbs of Watertown and take the T-line to black Roxbury. 363 Moraga sets up something of a “straw feminist” to go criticize, as by 1981, the notion of lesbian separatism, to the extent it had ever represented radical feminism had faded from the center of mainstream feminism in the United States. Given that This Bridge was 362 Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (xiii) 363 Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back : Writings by Radical Women of Color, Women of Color Series, Expanded and rev. 3rd ed. (Berkeley, California: Third Woman Press, 2002). (xiii) 277 (in part) aiming for an academic feminist audience, with its stated intention / hope of being used in women’s studies classrooms, it is unlikely that this would have been read as terribly combative to the majority of the readers. Yet in saying this, the tone Moraga use is important and does create a sense of the text being in opposition to and questioning what radical feminism is or should be, marking separatism as a luxury of the elite while engagement on issues of race and class as well as gender and sexuality are theorized as the more radical acts. This questioning of the value of separatism is echoed in the anthology’s conversation between African American feminists Barbara and Beverly Smith, who, reflecting the writings of Combahee collective point out that lesbian separatism is only “viably practiced by women who have certain kinds of privilege: white skinned privilege, class privilege.” 364 This opposition is made clear later in her foreword when Moraga states that white feminism has turned away from issues of 364 Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (121) 278 poor women and become “exclusive and reactionary.” 365 At the same time, the comments are framed as a disagreement with a group she clearly considers herself part of. So the sense of “opposition” in This Bridge is often premised both on these linguistic engagements and on lack of communication between women of color and white feminists. There is not the sense of needing to differentiate that one sees in the earlier Chicana writings. Discussing the interlocking oppressions of race, class and gender, Anzaldúa and Moraga make specific the connection between and among women of color offered by the socialist language of preceding Chicana feminists, identifying themselves as “poor” and “working class” as well as being connected by being women and “of color.” In doing this they are following in the tradition of earlier feminists of color in the United States and Chicanas feminists in specific. However, the connections made in This Bridge are not only based on shared oppressions, it is the product of mutual desire. Despite being addressed at Anglo feminists, what is 365 Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (xiv) 279 unique in This Bridge as opposed to other, earlier Chicana writing, is the books discussion of lesbian sexuality among women of color. Prior to this publication, as far as political writing was concerned, the Chicana lesbian is largely absent from discussions of Chicano/a publications except as an accusation made against Chicana feminists. Anzaldúa writes in her discussion of “third world” women and authorship: “the lesbian of color is not only invisible, she doesn’t even exist,” making clear her feelings of erasure both within feminism and within the Chicano movements. 366 Within the context of early Chicana writings, this appears the case -- the Chicana lesbian exists more as an accusation made against Chicanas who espoused feminism within the movement then as individuals, as Anna Nieto Gomez and other Chicana feminists from the 1970s wrote. Though she references class as an issue putting women of color outside the white lesbian community, the triple oppression Moraga sees is race, gender and sexuality, which (here quoting the essay by Audre Lorde) 366 Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (165) 280 becomes the “Master’s House.” 367 This is a revision of the triple oppression of class, race and gender cited by earlier Chicana feminists. Alarcón’s essay, “Putting Flesh Back on Object,” goes still further by tracing the roots of machismo to Malinche --who, she writes, was sold into sexual slavery by her family then blamed for selling out her race, connecting Chicana oppression with sexual oppression and ownership of the female body. 368 In her introduction to the second edition, Moraga writes that the focus in This Bridge was consciously constructed as a discussion “between and among women,” while at the same time writing “were Bridge to be conceived in 1983, as opposed to 1979 it would speak much more directly now to the relations between women and men of color, both gay and heterosexual.” 369 The authors felt they were doing this as an intentional break with text of women of color which 367 Anzaldúa, ed., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (xvii-xviii) 368 Alarcón, "Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Revison through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object." (182-190) 369 Moraga and Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back : Writings by Radical Women of Color. (unumbered pages) 281 had previously focused on male/female relationships as women tried to make themselves heard within the movement. And yet, in offering a definitive critique of heterosexuality and machismo, the authors of This Bridge were very definitely engaging in debate over masculine and feminine relationships by questioning their central position in society. The ideology of early Chicana feminism was derived from liberatory and revolutionary Marxist-socialist politics and was strongly tied to “on the ground” community action. This Bridge Called My Back made several critical interventions, not just by injecting notions of race into discussions of American feminism, but significantly for demanding that Chicana feminism address a politics of desire and sexuality along side their politics of race and class, specifically lesbian desire. 370 A problem with starting the focus with This Bridge, however, is the erasure of the earlier political origins, as This Bridge 370 Chicana writers in the 1970s, such as Francisca Flores and Ana Nieto-Gomez, had addressed issues of sexual desire in their writings about Chicanas’ need for birth control and their right to have their sexuality respected. However, there was little significant positive discussion of lesbian sexuality in Chicano/a publications prior to This Bridge. 282 is directed at an specific audience, likely academic feminists and other women of color, whereas many of the early Chicana works were either public speeches or published in community newspapers and letters discussing issues within the Chicano/a communities themselves. Finding Voice This section examines Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race and Gender, 371 edited by Teresa Córdova (chair), Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M. Sierra. Although as an anthology, Chicana Voices is less widely known than This Bridge Called My Back, it was a significant Chicano publication with a scholarly and classroom life lasting far beyond its 1986 publication. Chicana Voices --rather the conference theme from which it came, “Voces de la Mujer”-- origins are recounted in detail in the unsigned preface to the original edition. The anthology was published in 1986 as an outgrowth of the 1984 conference of the National Association 371 Córdova, Cantú, Cardenas, García and Sierra, eds., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. 283 of Chicano Studies (NACS). 372 Interestingly the construction of the book is seen as less significant than the conference. This conference, with its Chicana-centered theme: “Voces de la Mujer,” represented the first time the larger Chicano studies organization had specifically engaged Chicana issues on this scale, making women the center rather than a marginal topic. 373 Coming out of a conference panel on “Unsettled Issues, Chicanas in the 80s” at the 1982 conference --the same year that MALCS 374 (Mujeres Activas en Letras y Cambio Social) was formed at UC Davis-- there 372 In 1995, more than ten years after the 1984 “Voces de la Mujer” themed conference, the membership voted to renamed itself the National Association for Chicana and Chicano Studies (NACCS) in an effort to reflect the inclusion of Chicanas. 373 Córdova, Cantú, Cardenas, García and Sierra, eds., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. (ix) 374 MALCS history recorded on their website by Adaljiza Sosa-Riddell, notes that “by the early 1980s [Chicana] contributions were barely acknowledged. Sensing this collective loss of voice, feeling highly isolated, eager to extend their knowledge to other women, and desiring to change society’s perceptions, a group of Chicana/Latina academic women gathered at the University of California, Davis, in spring 1982. Mujeres Activas En Letras Y Cambio Social (MALCS) was established at this first meeting. The MALCS declaration, written one year later at the Berkeley campus, formally established the organization and affirmed the membership’s dedication to the unification of their academic life with their community activism.” (Adaljiza Sosa-Riddell, History of Malcs, Available: http://www.malcs.org/history/.) 284 were numerous discussions at the 1983 NACS meeting that led up to the association choosing “Voces de la Mujer” as the specific conference theme for 1984. The 1984 conference was the culmination of efforts of more than a decade of Chicanas pushing for recognition of sexism within both the Chicano studies discipline and the larger Chicano Movement. 375 At the same time they were raising the awareness of the association about the position of Chicanas and criticizing the scholarly Chicano community for not recognizing gender along side race and class oppression, these women were part of the community, rather than speaking about it from the outside. Visually, the book itself is a bold statement of indigenous womanhood. The cover art and design, by Sylvia Orozco and David S. Cavazas is dominated by a charcoal drawing of an woman’s face in semi-profile. The appears neither young nor old, but like the Mayan goddess figures is strong, solid and eternal. Her image is presented against a textured red background with black lettering. “Chicana Voices” runs across the top with the remaining title text on the left 375 Córdova, Cantú, Cardenas, García and Sierra, eds., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. (x) 285 side, opposite the face. There is no mention on the cover of any of the editors or authors names -- it thus seems to stand as the voice of Chicanas, without (at least on the cover) naming any individuals. In the original edition, published by the National Association of Chicano Studies, there is no cover text --front or back-- beyond the book’s title and the NACS’s initials on the spine. The back cover features a decorative design, but there are no authors names or description of the book’s contents. Readers must open the book to see either editors or authors, reinforcing the idea that the organization, rather than any single individual is speaking through the text. This changes with the 1993 edition, published by the University of New Mexico Press. While the front cover and spine remain essentially the same, the back cover features the editors names and a description of the book’s contents and reflections on its significance as a Chicana feminist text. 286 Figure 6: Cover Art from Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race and Gender. 287 Partly because of the contributors’ own commitment to Chicano/a scholarship and its sense of representing the NACS conference, Chicana Voices is quite different in tone from the relatively few previous Chicana anthologies -- though there would be others, like Building With Our Hands, 376 which would follow Chicana Voices multidisciplinary structure. Chicana Voices has a traditionally scholarly format, with divisions in the essays reflecting the 1984 conference themes. All of the contributors were scholars, participating in university life either as faculty, graduate students or librarians. Harkening back the anthology El Flor y Canto produced ten years earlier, Chicana Voices was also a product of an event and edited by a committee. Yet rather than being an open festival, Chicana Voices was produced as the refection of the annual Chicano studies conference. As such, there is a sense of celebration in the text, of Chicana studies being recognized in its own right. The 376 Adela and Beatríz M Pesquera de la Torre, Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993). 288 articles which make up the text speaks to and from Chicano studies as a discipline, reflecting on long-standing theoretical research from Chicano journals like Aztlán as well as discipline specific publications. Unlike previous Chicano publications, Chicana Voices focuses on the study of Chicanas, with the significant majority of the contributions written by women. Chicana Voices is divided into sections, and like This Bridge, each section is introduced by unsigned editorals. The first section, “Plenary Statements and Special Tribute” gives a flavor of the conference and its central themes. In the section’s introduction, the panel assumptions, which were originally made in the introductory remarks by Margarita Melville are enumerated (1) sexism means domination for the women who experience it; (2) changes are possible for a culture; (3) socialization processes result in differences among racial groups; (4) consciousness raising is relevant for men as well as women; (5) “everyone can be saved.” 377 377 Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M Sierra, eds., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). (3) 289 giving readers a sense of the tone of the conference. Despite this note about consciousness raising and Cynthia Orozco’s paper on sexism in the university community, 378 Chicana Voices (in contrast to This Bridge and other earlier Chicana writing) is not a traditional consciousness raising text, though it may be argued that it aimed to raise feminist consciousness within Chicano studies. Rather it begins with the assumption that the authors are scholars already established in Chicano studies, and as such are interested in Chicanas as an area of study and scholarship, integrating discussions of feminism into the Chicano community of scholars. As such, Chicana Voices deals with past and ongoing discussions within Chicana feminism and between Chicano and Chicana scholars. This is especially notable in the paper by Alma M. Garcia which deals with how to bring Chicanas 378 Teresa Córdova and National Association for Chicano Studies., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (Alburquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). (11-18) 290 into the larger Chicano studies frame, and in doing so, she argues, fundamentally changing the discipline. 379 Section two, “Labor and Politics” focuses on labor, making room in Marxist, or rather Chicano Marxist thory for the study of the labor of women. This point is made clearly in the essay by Denise Segura who writes that “patriarchy must be examined on an equal basis with race and class.” 380 Expanding this point later in an article she wrote for the journal Aztlán, Segura further illustrates the divisions between the Chicano movement and the women’s movement, stating “articulation of [Chicana] feminism reveals tension between Chicano cultural nationalism and American feminism.” 381 Segura 379 Alma García, "Studying Chicanas: Bringing Women into the Frame of Chicano Studies," Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender, eds. Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M Sierra (Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). (19-29) 380 Denise A Segura, "Chicanas and Triple Oppression in the Labor Force," Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender, eds. Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M Sierra (Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). (61) 381 Denise A. Segura and Beatriz M. Pesquera, "Beyond Indifference and Apathy: The Chicana Movement and Chicana Feminist Discourse," Aztlán 19.2 (1992). (69) 291 continues her contribution to Chicana scholarship with her contribution to the MALCS inspired anthology Building With Our Hands 382 and her editing of the Chicana lesbian anthology Living Chicana Theory. 383 Her contributions to Chicana anthologies illustrates the nature of the textual community represented in the creation of Chicana Voices. Section three, “Research: References and Primary Data” is an interesting choice for the middle of the anthology. The introduction states that Chicanas and Chicanos have been responding to the new challenges in women’s history in a variety of ways. [...] Currently there is a renaissance of Chicana scholarship that will radically alter the existing historical record on muggers and greatly expand the horizon of research in this area. The selections which follow this introduction represent some of the work that is being done in this field. 384 382 Denise A Segura, "Slipping through the Cracks: Dilemmas in Chicana Education," Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies, eds. Adela de la Torre and Beatriz M. Pesquera (Berkeley: CA: University of California Press, 1993). 383 Denise A Segura, ed., Living Chicana Theory (Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 1998). 384 Córdova, Cantú, Cardenas, García and Sierra, eds., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. (117) 292 It functions as both a reference section, complete with Chicana studies bibliography while at the same time it offers examples of new styles and sources of research. By including Richard Chabran's annotated guide 385 to Chicana literature, Chicana Voices makes itself a ready reference for classroom teaching and course construction. 386 But its inclusion serves another purpose; through the bibliography, the anthology is able to recognize the work of previous scholars in Chicana studies. Section four, “Language, Literature and the Theater,” is a collection of four critical essays on Chicana literature and Chicanas in theater. It makes the case that examination of Chicana literature / writing forces the rethinking of all writing, giving a more complete view of Chicano literature. The section also makes clear (as does the 385 Although not annotated, each edition of This Bridge Called My Back includes a bibliography for futher reading on writings by and about women of color. 386 Richard Chabran, "Chicana Reference Sources," Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender, eds. Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M Sierra (Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). [A version of the essay was originally published in the Chicano newspaper El Gente.] 293 editorial that precedes it) that Chicana writing is by definition a political. 387 Cordova would expand on these sentiments, writing in 1994 Chicanas write in opposition to the symbolic representations of the Chicano movement that did not include them. Chicanas write in opposition to a hegemonic feminist discourse that places gender as a variable separate from that of race and class. 388 At the same time, by reading and analyzing Chicana literature and their role in theatre, this section of Chicana Voices also points out that Chicanas write for each other, producing, consuming and critiquing their own language and texts. Unlike This Bridge, the Chicana Voices anthology was not a first publication for most of the contributors, most of whom had completed or were in the process of completing, dissertations and other academic work. This is illustrated in Appendix B: Contributors to Chicana Voices, which shows the continued engagement of the 387 Córdova, Cantú, Cardenas, García and Sierra, eds., Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. (161) 388 Teresa Córdova, "Roots and Resistance: The Emergent Writings of Twenty Years of Chicana Feminist Struggle," Handbook of Hi (Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1994). (194) 294 anthology’s contributors, before and after the 1986 publication. This scholarly work is demonstrated by Cordova, the anthology’s primary editor, who had previously co-edited the NACS anthology The Chicano Struggle: Analyses of Past and Present Efforts. 389 Through its publication, Chicana Voices explicitly creates a textual community of Chicana scholars, legitimized by NACS, and published by the organization’s own press rather than more simply being in the form of chapbooks or self-published periodicals. The anthology’s development as an outgrowth of the 1984 conference, itself the culmination of two years of lobbying on the part of Chicana scholars, allows the text to offer the contemporary reader a window on the discourse among Chicana scholars of the period. The Chicana Voices anthology is also interesting for having remained in print almost twenty years after its publication, which speaks to the anthology’s continued relevance and use as a canonical text within the Chicano studies discipline. Chicana Voices, coming as it did later than This Bridge and emerging 389 John A. García, Teresa Córdova, Juan R. García and National Association for Chicano Studies., eds., The Chicano Struggle : Analyses of Past and Present Efforts (Binghamton, N.Y.: Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe, 1984). 295 out of the NAC,S engages more directly in the discussions of Chicana feminism dating back to the 1960s and 1970s, dividing Chicana oppressions into a tripling of class, race and gender. Yet as such, Chicana Voices largely elides discussions of Chicana sexuality, something only partially retified in Teresa Cordova’s preface to the 1993 edition where she writes about the importance of seeing sexuality alongside discussions of class, race and gender. This foreword to the third (1993) edition is a significant revision and reframing, reflecting the changes that were occurring and had occurred in Chicano studies over the previous decade. Despite the discussions created by This Bridge’s publication and despite Anzaldúa’s attendance at the 1983 conference in Ypsilanti, Michigan, 390 there is no mention of lesbian sexuality in Chicana Voices. The climate of the time is capture in Anzaldúa’s recollections of the Ypsilanti Michigan NACS, the same one where the theme of “Voces de 390 In her 2001 foreword to This Bridge Called My Back, Anzaldúa recounted attending the 1984 NACS conference, but because she also wrote that she was in Michigan, it is likely she ment the 1983 rather than the 1984 convention in Texas. 296 la Mujer” was decided on for the following year. She writes of that conference One experience I had with this was when I was attacked by straight Chicanas at the 1984 [sic] NACS conference in Ypsilanti, Michigan and was accused of being more concerned with orgasms and the lesbian movement then with helping La Raza. 391 The only mentions in Chicana Voices of This Bridge are in Alvina E. Quintana’s article, “Women: Prisoners of the Word” where she discusses Norma Alarcón’s article in the context of how the “masculine domination of language has therefore led to the domination of women” 392 and This Bridge’s citation as a source discussing sexism within the footnotes of Cynthia Orozco’s essay “Sexism in Chicano Studies and the Community.” 393 Quintana cites 391 Moraga and Anzaldúa, This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. (xxxvii) 392 Alvina Quintana, "Women: Prisoners of the Word," Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender, eds. Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M Sierra (Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). (216) 393 Cynthia Orozco, "Sexism in Chicano Studies and the Community," Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender, eds. Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M Sierra (Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). (16) 297 Alarcón’s text on Chicana sexuality and women’s enslavement by culture. Sexuality isn’t directly mentioned in the Orozco piece at all, though she does also mention (again in her footnotes) Cherríe Moraga’s text, Loving in the War Years in connection with the double standard that excluded feminism as being too white from the Chicano movement. However, by 1993, the climate at NACS had clearly changed. In her signed “Foreword to the Third Printing,” Teresa Cordova reframes the discussion of Chicana sexuality, not by what is included (or not included) in the original text, but rather by extensively citing the contributions to later NACS conference plenary addresses by lesbian scholars Emma Pérez and Deena Gonzalez. Cordova writes that the Chicana lesbian experience is a more intense version of the experience of other Chicanas 298 The 1984 NACS conference, “Voces de la Mujer” was a hallmark in the Chicana struggle for voice and presence. Still, outside the association, Chicana academics speak of marginality, harassment and ostracization from institutions of higher education. Chicana lesbians experience these with even more intensity. 394 In doing so, Cordova was both reflecting the changes which had occurred within the Chicano studies organization in the preceding decade, change she enumerates in detail and also reframing the discussion of class, race and gender to include discussions of sexuality and Chicanos as indigenous. She also extensively recounts and cites the formation of MALCS which connects Chicana Voices and its textual community to both MALCS’s annual institute and Chicana anthologies which have been pubished out of it. Cordova’s work in the “Foreword to the Third Printing” gave the anthology continued relevance as a resource some ten years after its original. 394 Teresa Cordóva, "Foreword to Third Printing," Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender, eds. Teresa Córdova, Norma Cantú, Gilberto Cardenas, Juan García and Christine M Sierra (Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993). (xiii) 299 Mixed Daughter Being my parents’ first child has always been a large part of my identity. I am their mixed daughter; the result of a 1960s high school romance between an eastside Chicano boy and westside Anglo-Catholic girl. I attended Catholic school from first grade until college -- Catholicism formed the bulk of my my cultural identity through out my childhood. My parents, whose racial divide had brought them social discomfort in the 1960s and 1970s, which included difficulties renting and buying homes in parts of Los Angeles, did their best to shelter my sister, brother and me from the worst of their experiences. I knew I was Chicana and identified as such, but my identification didn’t mean anything more to me than my mother’s distant identity of “Irish.” When my teachers commented on my speaking and writing in perfect English, I didn’t recognize the loaded compliment in their words. Later, when I struggled in high school Spanish (as did both my siblings and most of my cousins), I never considered why the Spanish language was so hard for me, why when my bilingual father helped me, my accent was somehow considered “wrong” and “too Mexican.” It would be years before I realized my 300 struggle with Spanish was, in part, due to an ingrained distrust of the Mexican side of myself. Then, coming onto UCLA’s campus as an undergraduate in the late 1980s, my Chicana identity became much more of an issue. Attracted to Left student politics, I first joined, or tried to join, the campus MEChA organization. It made sense to me. I was a lonely Chicana student, lost on a huge campus. Leaving Catholic education and its sense of belonging to a common religion suddenly made me feel much more of a racial outsider on the campus. Among white students it was clear, despite my middle class West Los Angeles upbringing, that I wasn’t quite white enough. But the other students in MEChA saw me as not really Chicana either, not like them. As one said “maybe you’re not quite white, but you’re too close for me.” My skin color wasn’t the issue, or at least not the main issue. The leadership of MEChA looked like me or my cousins. The division came on issues of language and culture. I didn’t speak Spanish, had grown up in the white part of the city, had a white mother, had attended a West Los Angeles private girls school. In short I was weighed and found wanting in nearly every way (while my abuelita’s 301 house in East Los Angeles counted in my favor it was deemed not nearly enough). In their eyes I wasn’t truly a Chicana. It would be poetic to say I railed against this redefinition of my identity, that I told them my father wasn’t a sell-out for loving my mother or for having me. I wish I could claim that I argued and convinced all of them or any of them of my Chicana-ness. But the truth was, at their words, I was mostly silent and felt exposed as a fraud. There was part of me that could see their point. What did I, with my West Los Angeles upbringing, know of their Eastside experiences? East Los Angeles, apart from trips to Liliana’s for tamales, was my father’s and abuelita’s home place, not mine. Maybe they were right that I only identified as Chicana because of affirmative action, had only experienced it as a positive without experiencing either the poverty or racism which they had collectively suffered. Worst of all though, I felt like they had been able to look inside me and see the traitorous part of myself, that secret place that wished I were whiter. The part that envied my blond-haired cousins, knew their fairness was in mine and my family’s eyes, more beautiful. The same part that wished I had inherited my mother’s 302 blue eyes and willowy frame instead of my own stocky darkness. I felt like the other Chicano/a students could see there was something inside of me that found my darkness as ugly and even worse, as unclean and wished it away. Feeling stung and exposed, I slunk away from MEChA. I instead became the comfortably not-too exotic other in the white / Anglo students’ anti-apartheid movement. Academically I moved away from any part of Chicano/a studies and into British and Celtic history and literature. In the early 1990s, when I finally read This Bridge Called My Back the text spoke to me of inclusion, made it clear that, as far as the authors were concerned, I was able to identify as Chicana. It was easy for me to make the mistake of beginning Chicana feminism with This Bridge Called My Back because the text was such a starting point in my own identification both as a Chicana and as a feminist. I became fascinated with the inclusive politics and theories of third wave feminism, writing written between women of color to affirm and understand each other. There are many who claim This Bridge Called My Back as a personal bible or talisman --see this bridge we call 303 home where this is discussed by a number of different contributors. 395 For me it, along with Chicana Voices, which demonstrated that there was a Chicana community and tradition of scholarship I could be part of (and further gave me names of Chicana scholars I could then trace through their later publications) were maps which guided me through the final part of my undergraduate studies and through the first few years of graduate school, finally leading me to my dissertation topic. Conclusion What I have always been struck by in my reading of the text is the degree to which it is about friendship and the importance of inclusion to the act of creation, a creation which the authors document repeatedly in the text. Friendship between Gloria Anzaldúa and Merlin Stone bringing Anzaldúa to that writing retreat. Anzaldúa’s sense of exclusion by the other women at the retreat inspiring both an anthology about racism in the feminist movement and her call for 395 Gloria Anzaldúa and AnaLouise Keating, This Bridge We Call Home: Radical Visions for Transformation (New York: Routledge, 2002). 304 contributions to it, affirmed then by her friendship with Stone. Anzaldúa reaching out to her friend Cherríe Moraga, who agreed to become co-editor, and their joint work to compile the anthology. 396 The friendships and relationships between contributors in This Bridge and Chicana Voices are also documented in the text itself, as well as the texts which follow it. For example, it is clearly important to Moraga that Barbra Smith affirms her and calls her “sister” both in the text and in that moment. 397 Because of the community among the authors made visible to the readers, there is a collective sense of textual community, of the book creating belonging between its contributors and readers. I felt included and spoken to (and even for). This Bridge’s effects on others was less positive. When I read it as an undergraduate as part of upper division English and women’s studies classes, the text was read as angry, divisive and unfairly 396 Gloria. and Cherríe Moraga Anzaldúa, "Introduction," This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981). (xxiii-xxiv) 397 Cherríe Moraga, "Preface," This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa (Boston, MA: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981). 305 accusing. Reading it in my first year of graduate school in a English seminar on consciousness raising, This Bridge was deemed by many of the Anglo students to be intellectually naive and dismissed as “not theoretical.” Any comprehensive examination of Chicana feminist ideologies must begin with a discussion of the origins of Chicana thought. Although not comprehensive, by examining Chicana Voices and This Bridge Called My Back, readers can have a sense of the textual communities which were important to the creation of these texts, which themselves were so central to discussions of Chicana studies and feminism going forward from them. This chapter intended to offer a sense of the variety of ideological debate within Chicana feminism at the moments This Bridge, and Chicana Voices were written, as well as offering perspective on the issues raised by the This Bridge and Chicana Voices anthologies and how they continued to evolve through the addition of editorial forewords after their inital publication. If, in both texts, Chicana feminism is constructed as a negotiation between the Anglo feminist and Chicano movements, then following Chicana studies into the 1980s and its move into the 306 academy would perhaps offer insight into the two’s current academic positions. If feminism is now gender studies and Chicano ideology part of post-colonial studies, examination of this history offers a different theoretical perspective in the larger field of cultural studies. 307 Chapter 4: Bibliography Alarcón, Norma. "Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Revison through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object." This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Ed. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Anzaldúa, Gloria. Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza. San Fransisco, CA: Aunt Lute Books, 1987. Anzaldúa, Gloria and Cherríe Moraga, ed. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. New York, NY: Kitchen Table / Women of Color Press, 1981. Anzaldúa, Gloria, and AnaLouise Keating. Interviews = Entrevistas. New York: Routledge, 2000. ---. This Bridge We Call Home: Radical Visions for Transformation. New York: Routledge, 2002. Anzaldúa, Gloria. and Cherríe Moraga. "Introduction." This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Arevalo Duffield, Martha, and Karina Lissette Cespedes. "Practicing Transgression: Radical Women of Color for the 21st Century." Meridians 3.1 (2002): 125-132. 308 Blackwell, Maylei. "Contested Histories: Las Hijas De Cucuhtémoc, Chicana Feminisms, and Print Culture in the Chicano Movement, 1968-1973." Chicana Feminisms : A Critical Reader. Eds. Gabriela F. Arredondo and et al. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003. xii, 391 p. Chabran, Richard. "Chicana Reference Sources." Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Eds. Teresa Córdova, et al. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. Christian, Barbara. "The Case of Shaping an Anthology of Caribbean Women Writers." The Ethnic Canon. Ed. Davis Palumbo-Lui. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1995. Cordóva, Teresa. "Foreword to Third Printing." Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Eds. Teresa Córdova, et al. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. Córdova, Teresa. "Roots and Resistance: The Emergent Writings of Twenty Years of Chicana Feminist Struggle." Handbook of Hi. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1994. Córdova, Teresa, et al., eds. Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. ---, eds. Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Colorado Springs, Colo.: National Association for Chicano Studies, 1990. Córdova, Teresa, and National Association for Chicano Studies. Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Alburquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. 309 Cotera, Marta P. The Chicana Feminist. Austin, TX: Information System Development, 1977. de la Torre, Adela and Beatríz M Pesquera. Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Deiss, Joseph Jay. The Roman Years of Margaret Fuller; a Biography. New York: Crowell, 1969. Di Leo, Jeffrey R., ed. On Anthologies: Politics and Pedagogy. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2004. Esquibel, Catrióna Rueda. With Her Machete in Her Hand : Reading Chicana Lesbians. Chicana Matters Series. 1st ed. Austin, Tex.: University of Texas Press, 2006. Fisher, Dexter., ed. The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980. Fuller, Margaret. Woman in the Nineteenth Century. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1980. García, Alma. "Studying Chicanas: Bringing Women into the Frame of Chicano Studies." Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Eds. Teresa Córdova, et al. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. Garcia, Alma M. "The Development of Chicana Feminist Discourse, 1970 - 1980." Gender and Society 3.2 (1989): 217-238. García, Alma M. Chicana Feminist Thought : The Basic Historical Writings. New York: Routledge, 1997. 310 García, John A., et al., eds. The Chicano Struggle : Analyses of Past and Present Efforts. Binghamton, N.Y.: Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe, 1984. Griswold del Castillo, Richard, et al. Chicano Art : Resistance and Affirmation, 1965-1985. Los Angeles: Wight Art Gallery, University of California, 1991. Gura, Philip F. American Transcendentalism: A History. 1st ed. New York, NY: Hill and Wang, 2007. Jacobs, Harriet A., et al. Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Enl. ed. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2000. Kuhn, Thomas S. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 3rd ed. Chicago, Ill.: University of Chicago Press, 1996. Longeaux y Vasquez, Enriqueta. "Soy Chicana Primero." El Cuaderno 1.1 (1971): 17-22. ---. "The Mexican-American Woman." Sisterhood Is Powerful. Ed. Robin Morgan. New York: Vintage Books: Random House, 1970. 379- 384. ---. "The Women of La Raza." El Grito del Norte 2 (1969): 8-9. Martin, Biddy. Femininity Played Straight: The Significance of Being Lesbian. New York: Routledge, 1996. Martín-Rodríguez, Manuel M. Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature. 1st ed. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003. 311 Mora, Pat. Chants. Houston TX: Arte Publico Press, 1985. Moraga, Cherríe. Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios. Boston, MA: South End Press, 1983. ---. "Preface." This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. Boston, MA: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Moraga, Cherríe, and Gloria Anzaldúa. This Bridge Called My Back : Writings by Radical Women of Color. Women of Color Series. Expanded and rev. 3rd ed. Berkeley, California: Third Woman Press, 2002. ---. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Women of Color Series. Expanded 3rd ed. Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 2002. Moreno, Dorinda. La Mujer En Pie De Lucha : Y La Hora Es Ya! Mexico: Espina del Norte, 1973. Morgan, Robin. Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. New York: Vintage Books, 1970. Orozco, Cynthia. "Sexism in Chicano Studies and the Community." Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Eds. Teresa Córdova, et al. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. 312 Perez, Laura Elisa. "El Disorden, Nationalisms and Chicano/a Aesthetics." Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State. Eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999. Pitzer, Donald E, ed. America’s Communal Utopias. Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 1997. Quintana, Alvina. "Women: Prisoners of the Word." Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Eds. Teresa Córdova, et al. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. Roth, Benita. Separate Roads to Feminism: Black, Chicana, and White Feminist Movements in America's Second Wave. Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Ruiz de Burton, María Amparo. Who Would Have Thought It? Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1995. Saldívar, Ramón. Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Difference. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconson Press, 1990. Segura, Denise A. "Chicanas and Triple Oppression in the Labor Force." Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Eds. Teresa Córdova, et al. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. ---, ed. Living Chicana Theory. Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 1998. 313 ---. "Slipping through the Cracks: Dilemmas in Chicana Education." Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies. Eds. Adela de la Torre and Beatriz M. Pesquera. Berkeley: CA: University of California Press, 1993. Segura, Denise A., and Beatriz M. Pesquera. "Beyond Indifference and Apathy: The Chicana Movement and Chicana Feminist Discourse." Aztlán 19.2 (1992). Short, Kayann. "Coming to the Table: The Differential Politics of This Bridge Called My Back." Genders.19 (1994). Sosa-Riddell, Adaljiza "History of Malcs". <http://www.malcs.org/history/>. Spahr, Juliana. Everybody’s Autonomy: Connective Reading and Collective Identity. Tuscaloosa AL: The University of Alabama Press, 2001. Valdez, Luis, and Stan Steiner, eds. Aztlán: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. New York, NY: Knopf, 1972. Walker, Alice. In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens. New York, NY: Mariner Books, 1983. Yarbro-Bejarano, Yvonne. "Chicana Literature from a Chicana Feminist Perspective." Feminisms: An Anthology of Literary Theory and Criticism. Ed. Robyn Warhol and Diane P. Herndl. New Brunswick, CT: Rutgers University Press, 1991. 314 ---. "Deconstructing the Lesbian Body: Cherríe Moraga’s Loving in the War Years." Chicana Lesbians: The Girls Our Mothers Warned Us About. Ed. Carla Trujillo. Berkeley: CA: Third Woman Press, 1991. 143-152. ---. "From Acto to Mito: A Critical Appraisal of the Teatro Campesino." Modern Chicano Writers: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Joseph and Tomas Ybarra-Frausto Som. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1979. 176-188. ---. The Wounded Heart : Writing on Cherríe Moraga. Chicana Matters Series. 1st ed. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2001. 315 Chapter 5 Coda - Aztlán the Cosmopolis I am defined as other in every group I'm part of. The outsider, both strength and weakness. Yet without community there is certainly no liberation, no future, only the most vulnerable and temporary armistice between me and my oppression. 398 In the final chapter of Border Matters: Remapping American Cultural Studies, José David Saldívar writes of arriving at Yale and his first encounter with the other or, what he calls “Northern America” as “a secular nation living like a dream on the back of a tiger,” a United States with seemingly little in common with his South Texas borderland childhood. 399 Saldívar writes 398 Audre Lorde, The Cancer Journals, 1st ed. (Argyle, N.Y.: Spinsters, Ink, 1980). (12-13) 399 José David Saldívar, Border Matters : Remapping American Cultural Studies (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997). (160) 316 I left South Texas to walk down the mean streets of New Haven to discover the rather different musics of America -- from Walt Whitman’s “I Hear America Singing” to the Funkadelics’ “One Nation Under a Groove” and Rubén Blades salsa national anthem, “Buscando America.” Quickly I was immersed in the foundational myths of the Puritan ur-fathers, evident everywhere all around me at the Old Campus was something called the New England Way. To see this New England America as phantasmatics was to historicize my identifications. 400 Saldívar’s experience of the northeastern United States, which he renames “New England America,” is part of an unknown, phantasmic, uncanny culture, while he embodies his own South Texas borderland as the historical or “real” identification is a powerful product of his own experiences. Yet it creates a dualistic vision of either one or the other having had to be more or less real, as was in fact the case for Saldívar. However, my own experience as the daughter of Angelenos, a Mexican-American father and an Anglo-American mother, both Catholic, both the grandchildren of immigrants, is that New England and the Texas borderlands are simultaneously phantasmic and familiar. While my proximity to the California / United States 400 Saldívar, Border Matters : Remapping American Cultural Studies. (160) 317 border makes Saldívar’s Texan border culture more familiar, history classes at my Catholic grammar school and high school began and ended east of the Rocky Mountains, the occasional stray into the California missions and Father Junipero Serra excepted. There is always been something uncannily familiar about New England. My historical real is the Santa Monica / San Bernadino Freeway linking West and East Los Angeles across the L.A. River’s concrete channel. This path, which my parents’ car traversed constantly, ferried us between family holidays on both sides of the city. It is the contradiction I remember in my Anglo mother’s asking my father to speak Spanish at home with the hope my younger sister and I would grow-up bilingual (and that she perhaps would learn the language too). He agreed in words, but then silently resisted, always speaking to us English as part of his inability to see being a Spanish-speaking Latino in Los Angeles as a good thing until long after my sister and I were English-Only kids. Spanish was the language of my grandparents, great-aunts and uncles, my father the only bilingual member of his generation. It was the language of secrets, and all things unknowable. Meanwhile, my sister and I rode in the backseat 318 on seemingly endless weekends, watching for Holy Cross Cemetery, our mid-point for the journey, which held three generations of dead from both sides of our families, reminding me that, my sister and my bodies aside, Catholicism would always be the link between them, however much their prejudices divided them. This historical real is internally and externally a site of disjuncture, and contrast. A narrative of cultural and class privilege, uneasily coupled with socialism, prejudice and unquestioning union loyalty. For me, the phantasmatic is the accented “e” when I spell “Pérez” and the shadowy whiteness of its absence when my father, brother and sister opt out of its use. This may well be evident to everyone but me, but it has come as a hard-fought revelation that, as an English-speaking third generation, West Los Angles Chicana with with a Chicano father and Anglo mother, I don’t need to perform rituals of “Chicano-ness” any more than I need to perform my “Americanness”. If my broken Spanish or middle class Southern California childhood isn’t what someone would expect of a Chicana with my last name, this is no more a failure of my “Chicano-ness” than too-limited ideas of what a Chicana “should” or “shouldn’t” be 319 like. This is an error I can hardly blame others for making given that I can tend to fall into it myself, feeling like by identifying as “Chicana” or “mestiza” I am somehow passing for someone other than who I am. 320 Re-envisioning Aztlán As a Queered Utopia Aztlán, I don’t remember when I first heard the word but I do remember that it took my heart by surprise when I learned of the place. . . . Aztlán gave language to a nameless anhelo inside me. 401 In his book, Movements in Chicano Poetry: Against Myths, Against Margins, 402 Rafael Pérez-Torres traces the origins of the 'notion' of Aztlán throughout Chicano/a discourse. While Alurista may have presented an idea of Chicano nation named “Aztlán” in a San 401 Cherríe Moraga, The Last Generation (Boston, MA: South End Press, 1993). (150) 402 Rafael Perez-Torres, Movements in Chicano Poetry: Against Myths, against Margins (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1995). Perez-Torres's book is also interesting for the way he deals with the gendering of Chicano/a. Rather than allowing the "Chicana" to be subsumed by the masculine Chicano, yet resisting the use of the dichotomy of inclusion/exclusion marked by the use of "o/a", the author alternates use of "Chicano" and "Chicana" as adjectives, expecting the reader to identify whether or not the terms are being used in their sexually (rather than linguistically) gendered sense by context. While this is an interesting way to call attention to the difficulties of gender in Latin languages, I found it jarring and at times confusing in practice. It also seems to resist the struggle for Chicana subjectivity that the a/o slashing represents. 321 Diego State University course he taught in 1968, 403 the term “Aztlán” gained general popularity in Chicano discourse after the presentation of “El Plan Espiritual de Aztlán,” becoming the movements unifying metaphor, bridging the political and poetic. It is a political statement, written by poets, intending to offer both nationalist political vision and spiritual empowerment to the Chicano Movement: With our hearts in our hands and our hands in the soil, We Declare the Independence of our Mestizo Nation. We are a Bronze People with a Bronze Culture. Before all the world, before all of North America, before all our brothers in the Bronze Continent, We are a Nation, We are a Union of free pueblos, We are Aztlán. 404 Aztlán as a utopian idea, a dream of a revolutionary Chicano nation, was immediately powerful and became a staple idea in the Movement. However, as Perez-Torres notes, there are many problems with a Chicano nationalism idealized based on “the call of our blood” 403 See Luis Leal, "In Search of Aztlán," Denver Quarterly 16.Fall (1981). and Luis Leal and Pepe Barrón, "Chicano Literature: An Overview," Three American Literatures: Essays on Chicano, Native American and Asian- American Literature, ed. Houston A. Baker Jr (New York, NY: Modern Language Association, 1982). 404 Pathfinder Press., Documents of the Chicano Struggle ([New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971). 322 created by supporting an exclusionary nationalist position (60-63). 405 Additionally, “El Plan de Aztlán,” as was the case with much writing of the period, either excludes Chicanas or subsumes them into a masculine “brotherhood.” Nationalism is, as Tom Nairn wrote, simultaneously “morbid and healthy.” 406 An unintended effect of Chicano nationalism was the defining of “Chicano” in ways that excluded and pushed some outside. This happened not only in the matter of gender, but also sexuality, language and class. In The Last Generation, a poetry-prose collection which ultimately returns to Chicana/o nationalism, Moraga ultimately reinvents Aztlán as a utopian “queer” space, writing Aztlán, I don’t remember when I first heard the word but I do remember that it took my heart by surprise when I learned of the place. . . . Aztlán gave language to a nameless anhelo inside me. 407 405 Rafael Pérez-Torres, Movements in Chicano Poetry : Against Myths, against Margins, Cambridge Studies in American Literature and Culture 88 (Cambridge ; New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1995). (60-63) 406 Tom Nairn, The Break-up of Britain (London, UK: New Left Books, 1981). 407 Moraga, The Last Generation. (150) 323 The 1969 nationalist vision of Aztlán, created and reified in “El Plan Espiritual de Azlan” as a unifying utopian vision of [W]e, the Chicano inhabitants and civilizers of the northern land of Aztlan [...] reclaiming the land of their birth and consecrating the determination of our people of the sun, declare that the call of our blood is our power, our responsibility, and our inevitable destiny. 408 was re-envisioned as “Queer Aztlán” by Chicana feminist, Cherríe Moraga. Her queered Aztlán exists as an intertextual space, assuming knowledge of the Chicano movement’s vision and celebrating it while acknowledging that Chicano Nationalism “never accepted openly gay men and lesbians among its ranks” while the the “Queer Nation” was “an ‘alien-nation’ to most lesbians and gay men of color” 409 Rather than waiting for the by then bygone movement to make space, Moraga claims “Queer Aztlán” as “a Chicano homeland that could embrace all its people.” 410 Yet her queering begins with a confession that 408 Pathfinder Press., Documents of the Chicano Struggle. 409 Moraga, The Last Generation. (147) 410 Moraga, The Last Generation. (147) 324 [at] the height of the Chicano Movement in 1968, I was a closeted, light-skinned, mix-blooded Mexican-American, disguised in my father’s last name. [...] Although I could not express how at the time, I knew I had a place in that Movement that was spilling out of barrio high schools [...] What I didn’t know then was that it would take me another ten years to fully traverse that ten-minute drive and bring all the parts of me -- Chicana, lesbian, half- breed, and poeta -- to the revolution, wherever it was. 411 With this statement, first made in a 1992 speech to the Latino/a Lesbian and Gay Organization conference, Moraga would seem to dare or even invite the accusation of vendida, of being called “sell- out.” Yet, as Moraga’s use of the nationalist term understands, the power of a collective vision cannot be underestimated. Further images of Aztlán, from Cherríe Moraga’s poem “Passage:” your mouth opens and I long for dryness. The desert untouched Sands swept without sweat. Aztlán** 412 Pero, es un sueño. This safety of the desert. 411 Moraga, The Last Generation. (145-146) 412 Asterisk and italics are original to Moraga’s text. 325 My country was not like that. Neither was yours. We have always bled with our veins and legs open to forces beyond our control. 413 Moraga (in a footnote) defines Aztlán as **The mythical/historical place, in the area of present- day northern New Mexico, from where the Aztecs were to have migrated before settling in what is now Mexico City. It is the mythical homeland of the present-day Chicano people. 414 This homeland, Aztlán, as Moraga depicts it, is both geographic and imaginary. She draws upon its nationalist history as a product of both political and poetic construction by poets, who were themselves, like Moraga social and political activists. Its original creation was within the “Plan de Aztlán”... where Chicano’s quest for this Aztlán home space populated by “people who have roses, not thorns.” Yet 413 Cherríe Moraga, Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios (Boston, MA: Southe End Press, 1983). (44-45) 414 Moraga, Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios. (44) 326 it is outside of the early nationalist discourse on Aztlan, with it emphasis on the masculine and traditional family. “Home” and “place” are recurring tropes in Chicano/a art and writings, as are their antithesis sense of rootless dislocation. This desire for the “home” reflects a longing for place and belonging among those who, in Pat Mora's words, are “American, but hyphenated.” 415 Cosmo-Poetics / Borderland Politics I edit myself as I sit before the television. I hold myself tight and never spill into a world that hates brown spills. I'm afraid that everything I am will pour out onto the ground and be absorbed without a word. I may disappear. So I hold onto myself because I still have much left to say. I am brown by my own invention, a crazy island, a suspicious hooded secret. One day I will give birth to myself, lonely but possessed. 416 Cosmopolitan is a word generally associated with cities, though not Los Angeles. “Cosmopolitan” speaks of cities like New York, 415 Pat Mora, Chants (Houston TX: Arte Publico Press, 1985). 416 Patricia J. Williams, The Alchemy of Race and Rights (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1991). (183) 327 London, Paris and Rome. My mother would call these places where I had never been, that she had never been, cosmopolitan. Our known association was San Francisco, the one so-called cosmopolitan city either of us had visited. Later, when my mother went to New Orleans, she came back and described the city as cosmopolitan, “like Paris,” though neither of us had at that point ever left the United States. I understood what she meant however. New Orleans had been like the Paris of her imagination, an uncanny space constructed out of images from literature, films, music and popular culture. Marxist critic Terry Eagleton, quoting Raymond Williams, writes that nationalism can best be seen as a manifestation or substitute for class and therefore sees little value in the cosmopolitan. He believes it to be a romantic form of “enlightenment radicalism,” pointing out the ways in which the theories of cosmopolitanism, both pre and post Marx, reify an exploitive economic system and class structure. 417 Taken as part of the “unraveling of the nightmare of 417 Terry Eagleton, Fredric Jameson, Edward W. Said and Field Day Theatre Company., Nationalism, Colonialism, and Literature (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1990). (23) 328 history,” the cosmopolitanism he describes would seem completely apart from any theory of the mestizaje or borderlands. 418 This view is echoed by Timothy Brennan, who, based on Gramscis’ contrasting of cosmopolitanism with the internationalism of the socialist movement sees in cosmopolitanism an extension of the pluralism of nineteenth century liberation movements (in this, Brennan including José Vasconcelos’ vision of la raza cósmica) . Brennan argues the “hybrid subject” --which he sees as the postmodern cosmopolitan-- in post- modernism merely substitutes for the “foreign domestic dichotomy” of the pluralist modern period. 419 This is indeed the nineteenth century view of the romantic cosmopolitan which Ruiz de Burton makes reference to in her imagined (post)colonial Mexico while at the same time, her text mocks the the faux cosmopolitan pretensions of the 418 Eagleton, Jameson, Said and Field Day Theatre Company., Nationalism, Colonialism, and Literature. (27-31) 419 Timothy Brennan, "Cosmo-Theory," The South Atlantic Quarterly 100.3 (2002). 329 Cackles. 420 However, thsd imperialist view of cosmopolitanism is nothing resembling either Aztlán (queered or not) or the contemporary Chicano/a borderland. Yet recent scholarship 421 on the modern and postmodern evolution of cosmopolitanism offers a new and renewed vision utilizing the pre-Kantian cosmopolitanism --that is, it is a vision which imagines a world city space and citizenship which exists outside the confines of borders while also tempering the effects of globalism-- a space which acts against a the confines of nationalism and outside the power of the state. Anthropologist Beth E. Notar, questioning 420 María Amparo Ruiz de Burton, Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita, Who Would Have Thought It?, Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication (Houston, Tex.: Arte Público Press, 1995). 421 Stephen Toulmin, Cosmopolis : The Hidden Agenda of Modernity (New York: Free Press, 1990).; Julia Kristeva, Strangers to Ourselves, European Perspectives (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991).; David A. Hollinger, Postethnic America : Beyond Multiculturalism (New York: BasicBooks, 1995).; Jacques Derrida, On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness, Thinking in Action (London ; New York: Routledge, 2001).; Keith Michael Baker and Peter Hanns Reill, What's Left of Enlightenment? : A Postmodern Question (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2001).; Judith Butler, Precarious Life : The Powers of Mourning and Violence (London ; New York: Verso, 2004). 330 James Clifford’s definition of a cosmopolitan as “one who travels,” 422 as well as the traditional notion of cosmopolitanism involving both physical movement and life in or surrounding a metropolis. Notar describes another type of cosmopolitanism, which she names “borderland cosmopolitanism.” 423 This cosmopolitanism exists at rural crossroads as well cities, it is a cosmopolitanism of the indigenous as well as the elite. 424 Borderland cosmopolitanism does not just attack the nation (as Brennan claims) but it destabilizes citizenship, and in doing so, endangers the authority of the state and nation. Los Angeles and the southwestern borderlands would not be cosmopolitan 422 James Clifford, "Traveling Cultures," Cultural Studies, eds. Lawrence Grossberg, Cary Nelson and Paula Treichler (New York: Routledge, 1992). (108) Clifford was himself questioning the classed notion of dividing populations between elites who travel and natives (everyone else). 423 Beth E. Notar, "Producing Cosmopolitanism at the Borderlands: Lonely Planeteers And "Local" Cosmopolitans in Southwest China," Anthropological Quarterly 81.3 (2008). (630) 424 Notar, "Producing Cosmopolitanism at the Borderlands: Lonely Planeteers And "Local" Cosmopolitans in Southwest China." (634-636) 331 in my mother’s or my eyes. Moulin Rouge --or even April In Paris 425 -- could not be set in Los Angeles, however much the cosmopolitan might be filmed there. To the degree Los Angeles, and by extension the borderlands, are cosmopolitan, it is more the cosmopolitanism of production and necessity rather than ethical idealism. This may be, for some, a vision of dystopia rather than a cosmopolitan intellectual utopia. Yet this borderland-scape of the city dystopian, as Slavoj Zizek, reminded us via the Matrix, is “the desert of the real.” 426 In his discussion of cosmopolitanism, Jacques Derrida asks “how can we still dream of a novel status for the city and thus for the ‘cities of refuge’” and follows by saying that to do so calls for 425 Watching this 1952 Doris Day film on television sometime in the 1970s is my first memory of seeing Paris and my mother’s use of “cosmopolitan” to describe the city. When I asked what the word mean she told me “like San Francisco, but even more so.” 426 Slavoj Zizek, "Welcome to the Desert of the Real," Re: Constructions - Reflections on Humanity and Media After Tragedy (2001), <http://web.mit.edu/cms/reconstructions/interpretations/desertreal.html>. 332 “forms of solidarity yet to be invented.” 427 His description of the “city of refuge” as a space which open to migrants who might “seek sanctuary from the pressures of persecution, intimidation and exile” 428 are imagined (in his telling) as spaces for an elite, the Salman Rushdies rather than illiterate economic, as well as political, refugees. The “refuge” of the borderland cosmopolitan is a darker one. However, a “space of refuge’ can be used to describe the borderlands themselves, not as spaces where sanctuary is necessarily given, but where it is claimed by those who must claim it. This, though paradoxically, the borderlands are not safe spaces, free from persecution or intimidation, but they are places where those who are exiled may claim tangible spaces, ones they have literally built with their own hands against the resistance of the nation. This is the cosmopolitan as the cosmopolitan is reframed and, for those of us 427 Derrida, On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness. (3-4) [In discussing the “city of refuge” Derrida’s comments refer to the rights of immigrants, asylum seekers and refugees and the contrast between the idealism in the text of the International Parliament of Writers documents versus the policies and limitations of France’s national government.] 428 Derrida, On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness. (4-5) 333 who hold to a borderland ethos, the borderland as a sanctuary is fought for as the state tries, repeatedly to regularize and draw lines ever clearer between the nations. Though even the most idealistic could not claim the borderlands between the United States and Mexico function as a sanctuary, the are admittedly, a no-mans land whose inhabitants “right” to live and work there is declared by their living and working there, even if no national authorities recognize it. As Judith Butler, who does not use the term “cosmopolitan” directly, yet references it in her discussion of Kantian Enlightenment, remarks, the existence of the nation depends on its ability to shore up the “I” first person point-of-view of the political narrative in order to maintain its power over individuals By contrast, cosmopolitanism - -in her theory embodied as grief and desire for the other-- “undoes” and de-centers this “I” and in the process, brings people together by allowing them to escape from themselves. 429 It is in this sense I argue that the border-space, the “una herida abierta" an open wound, 429 Butler, Precarious Life : The Powers of Mourning and Violence. (6-7). 334 “where the third world grates against the first and bleeds,” 430 as first imagined by Chicanas and other feminists of color, is the new space for this revised cosmopolitan poetics and politics --evolving as an ethical rather than imperial cosmopolitanism. 431 The inhabitants of the cosmopolitan borderlands resemble those in Derrida’s imagined “city of refuge” in that like the denizens of the city, they exist in the space outside the control of the nation/state “without repatriation and without naturalization” as the right to political asylum continues to be eroded. 432 As the nation asserts its control, images of the police as an “omnipresent and spectral force... beyond all accountability” in our age of “teletechnologies” are evoked, as seen in Maria Teresa Fernandez’s image of the border patrol. More prescient still seem his comments about laws which not only make it a criminal act to offer “hospitality” (Derrida’s term for refuge and sanctuary) to exiles but make doing so itself an act of terrorism 430 Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza (San Fransisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1987). (3) 431 Brennan, "Cosmo-Theory." (7-9) 432 Derrida, On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness. (7-10) 335 against the state. 433 Though Derrida was referring to the legal situation in France, in our post 9/11 world, hospitality toward strangers is suspect throughout the world. Within this space, without “naturalization” the borderland or cosmopolis become prisons, a space populated by stateless people who live in fear of the space being taken away or their own forcible repatriation. In this cosmopolis borderland, however, naturalization does not protect from the police, who just this week in Arizona have the right and duty to question and demand papers from any who look foreign. 433 Derrida, On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness. (14-16) 336 Figure 7: Maria Teresa Fernadez: Partiendo el Oceano, Playas de Tijuana. Drawing on Gloria Anzáldua’s imagery of the border as space where “the third world grates against the first and bleeds,” this photograph by Maria Teresa Fernandez shows the ocean is able to ultimately defeat attempts by the United States nation to divide it. 337 Figure 8: Border Agents through a Hole in the Border Fence. As Jacques Derrida wrote, the boundaries of nation are maintained by a spectral and omnipresent police force. (Photograph by Maria Teresa Fernandez.) 338 Aztlán the Cosmopolis: From “´¡Mi Raza Primera!” to La Mestiza Cosmica [T]hese "Raza" cults are composed of people who unabashedly hate the United States[...] most make bedfellows to anyone else who also hates America, like dictator Fidel Castro; [...] Sadam Hussain; and the women hating Taliban[...] [D]evotees of the Aztlan cults are rapidly extending their influence within California's Hispanic population, particularly among students in the university system. 434 Imagining, as Fredric Jameson writes, that utopian space is “an aberrant by-product” of otherwise “real social space,” a “self- contained backwater,” and a “pocket of stasis within the ferment and rushing forces of social change” 435 yet that it can evolve, at least in 434 Hal Netkin, What Is Aztlan, Raza and Mecha, 2008, Website, LA Mayor No, Available: http://www.mayorno.com/WhoIsMecha.html, April 17, 2010. [This website was created first to oppose candidate Villaraigosa’s run for mayor. Since the mayor’s election, the site has focused on his recall and favoring required identification to protect against “foreigners.” Its definitions for MEChA, Aztlán and La Raza are less extreme than many.] 435 Fredric Jameson, Archaeologies of the Future : The Desire Called Utopia and Other Science Fictions (New York: Verso, 2005). (14-15) 339 science fiction, so as to be “capable of mutation,” 436 then surely the borderlands, including the masculine, nationalist version of Aztlán, can be refigured as a cosmopolitan space. What though, would be the reason to support this change in terminology? The Chicano movement of the mid to late 1960s was a community specific nationalist Chicanismo - community based movement with Chicanos seen as (and seeing themselves) as an internally colonized people within the United States. 437 These individual community-based nationalist Chicano organizations from the beginning had an internationalist scope with activists like Elizabeth Martínez having strong ties and offering support for the liberation movements around the world, including Cuba. As the 1970s progressed, local and university movements saw the Chicano struggle as part of the global movement toward communist revolution, though not without divisions between revolutionaries. The mid-1970s differences between CASA (Centro de 436 Jameson, Archaeologies of the Future : The Desire Called Utopia and Other Science Fictions. (191) 437 Rodolfo Acuña, Occupied America : A History of Chicanos, 6th ed. (New York: Pearson Longman, 2007). 340 Acción Social Autonomy) which ascribed to Maoist doctrine, and ATM (August Twenty-ninth Moment) who were Stalinist-Leninist, are recounted in detail by Ernesto Chavez, who recalls that while the groups differed, the differences among the Los Angeles Chicano groups, in contrast to those in the Black Panther Party, did not become truly violent. 438 Yet these ideological fractures did do damage. A 1976 printing of Elizabeth Martinez’s 500 Years of Chicano History 439 was shredded and destroyed due to an ideological split regarding Chicano nationalism between ATM in New Mexico and CCC (Chicano Communications Center), the multimedia, educational barrio project Martínez helped found. 440 What is generally agreed upon in by Chicano/a historians of the Movement is that all these 438 Ernesto. Chávez, Mi Raza Primero!" (My People First!): Nationalism, Identity, and Insurgency in the Chicano Movement in Los Angeles, 1966-1978 (Berkeley CA: University of California Press, 2002). (98-110) 439 Elizabeth Martínez, ed., 500 Años Del Pueblo Chicano / 500 Years of Chicano History in Pictures (Albuquerque, NM: Southwest Organizing Project, 1991). 440 Elizabeth “Betita” Martinez, "A View from New Mexico: Recollections of the Movimiento Left," Monthly Review (2002), Web article, 1/30/06. (4-5) In this essay, Martínez further states that she was later told privately that ATM membership in New Mexico had been subject to United States government infiltration who caused the destruction of the books. 341 factions saw the struggle of women within their ranks as subordinate to the Movement struggle. 441 Yet from the earliest days of the Chicano movement, women held positions of leadership and many articulated the need to combat sexism within Aztlán This is important because it goes against the myth that Chicanas did not articulate significant feminist arguments prior to the 1980s. While the struggle for Chicano rights did subordinate concerns of women, with men sometimes, as Adelaida Del Castillo recounts, “finding it expedient to ideologically and physically intimidate women who failed to comply with their political or personal position” 442 women did make space within and outside the Movement to discuss issues of gender equality, 441 Chávez, Mi Raza Primero!" (My People First!): Nationalism, Identity, and Insurgency in the Chicano Movement in Los Angeles, 1966-1978.; Gustavo Licón, "¡La Unión Hace La Fuerza! (Unity Creates Strength!) M.E.Ch.A. And Chicana/O Student Activism in California, 1967-1999," Dissertation, University of Southern California, 2009.; Yolanda Alaniz and Megan Cornish, Viva La Raza : A History of Chicano Identity and Resistance, 1st ed. (Seattle, WA: Red Letter Press, 2008). 442 Magdalena Mora and Adelaida R. Del Castillo, Mexican Women in the United States : Struggles Past and Present, Occasional Paper - Chicano Studies Research Center Publications, University of California No. 2 (Los Angeles: Chicano Studies Research Center Publications, University of California, 1980). (13-16) 342 frequently in newspapers columns and publications they edited themselves. As I examined the creative works of Chicana writers, feminism is express through histories and stories. Moving into the 1980s, there is a shift from material collectives (such as El Grito) to discursive, "imaginary," and textual communities, which exist within the covers of anthologies, yet allow the women involved to create a community of readers and writers of color. Participation in the anthology projects This Bridge Called My Back and Chicana Voices, in particular fostered in their contributors images of the self as author and authority. It is from and through her authority as Chicana author that Cherríe Moraga claimed a “Queer Aztlán” If the Aztlán of the 1960s and 1970s Chicano Movement was conceived in the hope of creating a unifying vision of a bronze utopia to inspire a political movement and then re-envisioned in the 1980s and 1990s as an inclusive space, then the Aztlán of the twenty-first century is their dystopian mirror darkly. On right-wing websites run by organizations like ReportIllegals or the Minutemen, the self-styled volunteer border patrol, quotes about Aztlán, MEChA and La Raza are 343 used to reinforce their myth that an organized “reconquest” of the southwest is underway, using documents from the Chicano Movement used to justify the militarization of the border. 443 This selective misinterpretation and fear-mongering, as Lorena Oropeza wrote in 2006, is not merely the product of an internet fringe group, but is also found on “cable news shows and even some newspaper pages.” 444 Even a brief search of internet will reveal a surprising number of elected officials willing be associated with these groups who re-read Aztlán nationalism and the texts from the 1960 against the communities for which they were written. Chicano/a and Latino/a public officials and candidates who do not disavow La Raza or MEChA ties are denounced. Chicano Nationalism has been re- written by these groups as as a racist, anti-semitic movement, 443 David W. Caulkett, Aztlan, April 15, 2010 2010, Jumpin' Jupiter Inc, Available: http://www.illegalaliens.us/aztlan.htm, April 17, 2010. [the owner of this website and another, ReportIllegals, offers a service where, for $10, anyone can anonymously provide them with information about someone they suspect to be in the country or working illegally and the site owners promise to report them.] 444 Enriqueta Longeaux y Vásquez, Dionne Espinoza and Lorena Oropeza, eds., Enriqueta Vasquez and the Chicano Movement : Writings from El Grito Del Norte (Houston, Tex.: Arte Público Press, 2006). (xlvii) 344 supporting a southwestern “reconquista" 445 and even genocide, where the criminal and terrorist is collapsed and both are the fault of immigrants. 446 Against this dystopian, insular, racist nationalism, re-visioning Aztlan as a a borderland cosmopolis creates advantages. It makes clear connections to a larger cosmo-political and cosmo-poetic movements. These, made up of borderlands and cities worldwide who act against nation and nationalism to create “cities of refuge,” defy the conservative notion of nation and state militarization of the border. Using these, Aztlán as both space and vision can be reclaimed again as a positivist poetic and political space. 445 This is the theory put forward by some fringe (and not so fringe) groups of a conspiracy by the government of Mexico and “La Raza” groups to take over the southwestern United States via mass illegal immigration. "No Place for ‘Reconquista’," Los Angeles Examiner April 20 2006. 446 Paul Joseph Watson, "Racist Mexican Gangs "Ethnic Cleansing" Blacks in L.A.," Prison Planet (2007), Article, April, 2010 <http://www.prisonplanet.com/articles/january2007/220107mexicangangs.htm> 345 Derrida closes his essay on the cosmopolitan with the passage Being on the threshold of these cities, of these new cities that would be something other than ‘new cities’, a certain idea of cosmopolitanism, an other, has not yet arrived, perhaps. If it has (indeed) arrived... ...then, one has perhaps not yet recognized it. 447 Without trying to draw the lines too sharply or neatly, I do think there is value to seeing the borderland cosmopolitan spaces as these “new” (though not new) cities of refuge, of which the Aztlán southwest is but one. They exist not because the nation state recognizes them, nor are they sanctioned by any nation, but because they are claimed by those who take refuge there. It is bleaker than the intellectual utopian vision of cosmopolitanism which Derrida’s essay harken back to, but the space can and does exist. 447 Derrida, On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness. (23) 346 Summing Up I do not question of the value of the creation and discussion of a Chicano literature as expressions of a culture and people distinct from the mainstream Anglo United States community. It is appropriate and empowering that we create art that express our experiences in America. Re-centering the border makes the liminal visible. Further, though, the creation of this Chicano/a art is itself a paradoxical expression of what is Chicano/a resistance and a full expression of what is traditionally “American”. For if Chicano/a literature is not as much unqualifiedly “American literature” as Emerson or Whitman, what is it? Postcolonial Mexican, even when written in English? The product of separate nation? In a 1993 interview with Alfred Arteaga, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak commented on the postion of Chicano/as with regard to the internal colonization model [t]he story of the Hispanic American -- and I’m now thinking of the Americas as both of the American Continents-- is the story from the successful adventure of the industrialist capitalist imperialism. 347 [...] my home situation is the aftermath of industrial capitalist imperialism negotiated political independence seen as decolonization, passing into neocolonialism....But the other story, the previous conjecture, the conjecture that didn’t catch which is where decolonization proper [...] could not be narrativized, excites me because it too is a model--of the failure of decolonization that is inscribed [...] into the most aggressive decolonization narratives. There you have the whole complex phenomenon of Latin America, Central America, the United States and the Chicano. That’s a story that should not take its model from established colonial discourse, but open it up as well. Express solidarity, but as difference. 448 One might argue for a Chicano/a nationalism that separates Chicano literature, that imagines Chicano/a opposition to the North American mainstream resulting in decolonization however, this has not been my experience. I find Chicana/o culture and literature to be more a separated rather than separate part of American literature Yet the narratives of American literature cannot be decolonized unless Chicano/a literature is not only included, but made a part of the American literature whole. 448 Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, The Spivak Reader (New York, NY: Routledge, 1996). (24-26) [Note: the quotation as included has been edited for space.] 348 Likewise, as I try to justify the value of discussing Transcendentalism side-by-side with 1970s Chicano literature, the degree to which the idea of this examination seems surreal and impossible is, perhaps, reflective of the degree to which Chicano/a literature is perceived to be “un-American” or at least “other” American. Would this sense of the impossible or bizarre be there for a project to discuss Joyce vis-à-vis Shakespeare, authors distanced certainly by far greater time and (arguably anyway) culture? There is a perception of incomparable distance held from within and without. A belief that there is something more exotic, less mainstream, and therefore less “American” about contemporary Chicano or Asian American literature than there is in the literature of Transcendentalism or even the Harlem Renaissance. This perception makes contextual discussion seem impossible or at least discordant Yet, in its time, Transcendentalism was far outside what was then the national mainstream -- international in its scope at a time of insular belief in Manifest Destiny. The term for the movement was “the newness” and it was used to describe what was then other, new and 349 subversive. 449 Their shared, though distinct, re-imagining American culture via an idealistic vision and a distrust of the United States imperialist project connects both Chicano and Transcendentalist writing despite their different centuries. It is my belief that Chicano literature should not just be included (or appropriated) whole and distinct under the umbrella of American studies, but engaged and integrated within. It should be read as part of the larger American literature and discussed as a form of American resistance literature. For what can be more marginalizing than inclusion without engagement? Within the disrupted space of the United States Transcendentalist movement and the Chicano movement of the 1960s and 1970s, each of these spaces created opportunities for women from both to emerge and move into positions of leadership and, in some cases, to envision their own female-centered movements. Paradoxically, these male centered nature of these movements also 449 Ralph Waldo Emerson, Robert Ernest Spiller and Alfred Riggs Ferguson, The Collected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1971). (40) 350 creating frustration, as women felt subjugated by this new utopia and struggled to express their own subjectivity. Both movements were concerned with issues developing from the expansion of an (ever- increasingly) imperialist and capitalist United States and actively opposed to these aims. This project is itself a negotiation of oppositions --between Chicana feminism and a masculine Chicano nationalism, and between Chicana feminism and Anglo feminisms-- or at least these were my intentions. 351 Chapter 5: Bibliography Acuña, Rodolfo. Occupied America : A History of Chicanos. 6th ed. New York: Pearson Longman, 2007. Alaniz, Yolanda, and Megan Cornish. Viva La Raza : A History of Chicano Identity and Resistance. 1st ed. Seattle, WA: Red Letter Press, 2008. Anzaldúa, Gloria. Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza. San Fransisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1987. Baker, Keith Michael, and Peter Hanns Reill. What's Left of Enlightenment? : A Postmodern Question. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2001. Brennan, Timothy. "Cosmo-Theory." The South Atlantic Quarterly 100.3 (2002). Butler, Judith. Precarious Life : The Powers of Mourning and Violence. London ; New York: Verso, 2004. Caulkett, David W. "Aztlan". Pompano Beach, FL, 2010. (April 15, 2010): Jumpin' Jupiter Inc. April 17, 2010. <http://www.illegalaliens.us/aztlan.htm>. Chávez, Ernesto. Mi Raza Primero!" (My People First!): Nationalism, Identity, and Insurgency in the Chicano Movement in Los Angeles, 1966-1978. Berkeley CA: University of California Press, 2002. 352 Clifford, James. "Traveling Cultures." Cultural Studies. Eds. Lawrence Grossberg, Cary Nelson and Paula Treichler. New York: Routledge, 1992. 96-116. Derrida, Jacques. On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness. Thinking in Action. London ; New York: Routledge, 2001. Eagleton, Terry, et al. Nationalism, Colonialism, and Literature. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1990. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, Robert Ernest Spiller, and Alfred Riggs Ferguson. The Collected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1971. Hollinger, David A. Postethnic America : Beyond Multiculturalism. New York: BasicBooks, 1995. Jameson, Fredric. Archaeologies of the Future : The Desire Called Utopia and Other Science Fictions. New York: Verso, 2005. Kristeva, Julia. Strangers to Ourselves. European Perspectives. New York: Columbia University Press, 1991. Leal, Luis. "In Search of Aztlán." Denver Quarterly 16.Fall (1981): 16- 22. Leal, Luis, and Pepe Barrón. "Chicano Literature: An Overview." Three American Literatures: Essays on Chicano, Native American and Asian-American Literature. Ed. Houston A. Baker Jr. New York, NY: Modern Language Association, 1982. 9-32. Licón, Gustavo. "¡La Unión Hace La Fuerza! (Unity Creates Strength!) M.E.Ch.A. And Chicana/O Student Activism in California, 1967- 1999." Dissertation. University of Southern California, 2009. 353 Longeaux y Vásquez, Enriqueta, Dionne Espinoza, and Lorena Oropeza, eds. Enriqueta Vasquez and the Chicano Movement : Writings from El Grito Del Norte. Houston, Tex.: Arte Público Press, 2006. Lorde, Audre. The Cancer Journals. 1st ed. Argyle, N.Y.: Spinsters, Ink, 1980. Martínez, Elizabeth, ed. 500 Años Del Pueblo Chicano / 500 Years of Chicano History in Pictures. Albuquerque, NM: Southwest Organizing Project, 1991. Martinez, Elizabeth “Betita”. "A View from New Mexico: Recollections of the Movimiento Left." Monthly Review (2002). 1/30/06. Mora, Magdalena, and Adelaida R. Del Castillo. Mexican Women in the United States : Struggles Past and Present. Occasional Paper - Chicano Studies Research Center Publications, University of California No. 2. Los Angeles: Chicano Studies Research Center Publications, University of California, 1980. Mora, Pat. Chants. Houston TX: Arte Publico Press, 1985. Moraga, Cherríe. Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios. Boston, MA: Southe End Press, 1983. ---. The Last Generation. Boston, MA: South End Press, 1993. Nairn, Tom. The Break-up of Britain. London, UK: New Left Books, 1981. Netkin, Hal. "What Is Aztlan, Raza and Mecha". Los Angeles, 2008. Website. LA Mayor No. April 17, 2010. <http://www.mayorno.com/WhoIsMecha.html>. "No Place for ‘Reconquista’." Editorial. Los Angeles Examiner April 20. 2006. 354 Notar, Beth E. "Producing Cosmopolitanism at the Borderlands: Lonely Planeteers And "Local" Cosmopolitans in Southwest China." Anthropological Quarterly 81.3 (2008): 615-650. Pathfinder Press. Documents of the Chicano Struggle. [New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971. Perez-Torres, Rafael. Movements in Chicano Poetry: Against Myths, against Margins. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Pérez-Torres, Rafael. Movements in Chicano Poetry : Against Myths, against Margins. Cambridge Studies in American Literature and Culture 88. Cambridge ; New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Ruiz de Burton, María Amparo, Rosaura Sánchez, and Beatrice Pita. Who Would Have Thought It? Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication. Houston, Tex.: Arte Público Press, 1995. Saldívar, José David. Border Matters : Remapping American Cultural Studies. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. The Spivak Reader. New York, NY: Routledge, 1996. Toulmin, Stephen. Cosmopolis : The Hidden Agenda of Modernity. New York: Free Press, 1990. Watson, Paul Joseph. "Racist Mexican Gangs "Ethnic Cleansing" Blacks in L.A." Prison Planet (2007): 5 pp. April, 2010 <http://www.prisonplanet.com/articles/january2007/220107mexic angangs.htm>. Williams, Patricia J. The Alchemy of Race and Rights. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1991. 355 Zizek, Slavoj. "Welcome to the Desert of the Real." Re: Constructions - Reflections on Humanity and Media After Tragedy (2001). <http://web.mit.edu/cms/reconstructions/interpretations/desertre al.html>. 356 Bibliography Acuña, Rodolfo. Occupied America : A History of Chicanos. 5th ed. New York, NY: Pearson Longman, 2004. Alaniz, Yolanda, and Megan Cornish. Viva La Raza : A History of Chicano Identity and Resistance. 1st ed. Seattle, WA: Red Letter Press, 2008. Alarcón, Norma. "Chicana Feminism: In the Tracts of ‘the’ Native Woman." Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State. Eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999. ---. "Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Revison through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object." This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Ed. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Alcott, Louisa May. Transcendental Wild Oats & Excerpts from the Fruitlands Diaries. Boston, MA: The Harvard Common Press, 1981. Aldama, Arturo J. Disrupting Savagism : Chicana/o, Mexican Immigrant, and Native American Struggles for Self-Representation. Latin America Otherwise. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001. 357 Alemán, Jesse. "’Thank God, Lolita Is Away from Those Horrid Savages’: The Politics of Whiteness in Who Would Have Thought It?" María Amparo Ruiz De Burton: Critical and Pedagogical Perspectives. Eds. Amelia Maria de la Luz Montes and Anne E. Goldman. Lincoln NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2004. ---. "The Cultural Work of Maria Amparo Ruiz De Burton's Novels." Complicating Constructions: Race, Ethnicity, and Hybridity in American Texts. Eds. David S. Goldstein and Audrey B. Thacker. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2007. Almaguer, Tomás. Racial Fault Lines : The Historical Origins of White Supremacy in California. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994. Alurista. "Poem in Lieu of a Preface." Aztlán 1.1 (1970): ix. ---, Mary Ann Pacheco, and F.A. Cervantes, eds. Festival De Flor Y Canto : An Anthology of Chicano Literature. Los Angeles: University of Southern California Press, 1976. Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities. London: Verso, 1983. Anzaldúa, Gloria. Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza. San Fransisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1987. Anzaldúa, Gloria and Cherríe Moraga, ed. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. New York, NY: Kitchen Table / Women of Color Press, 1981. Arevalo Duffield, Martha, and Karina Lissette Cespedes. "Practicing Transgression: Radical Women of Color for the 21st Century." Meridians 3.1 (2002): 125-132. 358 Babcox, Deborah, and Madeline Belkin, eds. Liberation Now! Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. Laurel ed. New York: Dell Pub. Co., 1971. Baker, Keith Michael, and Peter Hanns Reill. What's Left of Enlightenment? : A Postmodern Question. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2001. Barrera, Mario. Race and Class in the Southwest : A Theory of Racial Inequality. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1979. Bebout, Lee. "Hero Making in El Movimiento: Reies López Tijerina and the Chicano Nationalist Imaginary." Aztlán: A Journal of Chicano Studies 32.12 (2007): 93-121. Bercovitch, Sacvan. The American Jeremiad. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1978. Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. London, UK: Routledge, 1994. Blanchard, Paula. Margaret Fuller: From Transcendentalism to Revolution. Radcliffe Biography Series. Reading, MA: Addison- Wesley Publishing Company, 1987. Blackwell, Maylei. "Contested Histories: Las Hijas De Cucuhtémoc, Chicana Feminisms, and Print Culture in the Chicano Movement, 1968-1973." Chicana Feminisms : A Critical Reader. Eds. Gabriela F. Arredondo and et al. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003. Bledsoe, Albert Taylor, and Making of America Project. "An Essay on Liberty and Slavery." 1856. J.B. Lippincott & Co. <http://uclibs.org/PID/25361>. 359 Boggs, Colleen Glenney. "Margaret Fuller's American Translation." American Literature 76.1 (2004): 31-58. Brennan, Timothy. "Cosmo-Theory." The South Atlantic Quarterly 100.3 (2002). Butler, Judith. Precarious Life : The Powers of Mourning and Violence. London ; New York: Verso, 2004. Caulkett, David W. "Aztlan". Pompano Beach, FL, 2010. (April 15, 2010): Jumpin' Jupiter Inc. April 17, 2010. <http://www.illegalaliens.us/aztlan.htm>. Chabram-Dernersesian, Angie. "And, Yes... The Earth Did Part: On the Splitting of Chicana/O Subjectivity." Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies. Ed. Beatriz M. Pesquera Adela de la Torre. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1993. 246. Chao, Lien. "Anthologizing the Collective: The Epic Struggles to Establish Chinese Canadian Literature in English." Essays on Canadian Writing 57.Winter (1995): 145-170. Chávez, Ernesto. Mi Raza Primero!" (My People First!): Nationalism, Identity, and Insurgency in the Chicano Movement in Los Angeles, 1966-1978. Berkeley CA: University of California Press, 2002. Chevigny, Bell Gail. "The Long Arm of Censorship: Mythmaking in Margaret Fuller's Time and Our Own." Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Societ 2.2 (1976): 450-460. Christian, Barbara. "The Case of Shaping an Anthology of Caribbean Women Writers." The Ethnic Canon. Ed. Davis Palumbo-Lui. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1995. 360 Clifford, James. "Traveling Cultures." Cultural Studies. Eds. Lawrence Grossberg, Cary Nelson and Paula Treichler. New York: Routledge, 1992. 96-116. Córdova, Teresa. "Roots and Resistance: The Emergent Writings of Twenty Years of Chicana Feminist Struggle." Handbook of Hi. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1994. ---, eds. Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Alburquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, 1993. ---, eds. Chicana Voices : Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender. Colorado Springs, Colo.: National Association for Chicano Studies, 1990. Cotera, Marta P. The Chicana Feminist. Austin, TX: Information System Development, 1977. Davidson, Winifred. "Enemy Lovers." Magazine Article. Los Angeles Times October 16. 1932: 5. de la Torre, Adela and Beatríz M Pesquera. Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Deiss, Joseph Jay. The Roman Years of Margaret Fuller; a Biography. New York: Crowell, 1969. Derrida, Jacques. On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness. Thinking in Action. London ; New York: Routledge, 2001. Di Leo, Jeffrey R., ed. On Anthologies: Politics and Pedagogy. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2004. 361 Dickens, Charles, ed. Gold Rush: A Literary Exploration. San Francisco, CA: California Council for the Humanities, 1997. Dickenson, Donna. Margaret Fuller : Writing a Woman's Life. Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire: Macmillan, 1993. Documents of the Chicano Struggle. New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971. Dotson, Bill. "Watch Dvds of Chicano Poets from the 1973 Festival De Flor Y Canto". Los Angeles, 2009. LibWire. (May 6, 2009): USC Libraries. April 10, 2010 2010. <http://dotsx.usc.edu/newsblog/index.php/main/comments watch_dvds_of_chicano_poets_from_the_1973_festival_flor_y_canto />. Douglass, Frederick. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. The Oxford Frederick Douglass Reader. Ed. William L. Andrews. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 1996. Duberman, Martin. James Russell Lowell. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1966. Eagleton, Terry, Fredric Jameson, and Edward W. Said. Nationalism, Colonialism, and Literature. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press / A Field Day Company Book, 1990. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, Margaret Fuller, and John Carlos Rowe. Selected Works : Essays, Poems, and Dispatches with Introduction. New Riverside Editions. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2003. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, Len Gougeon, and Joel Myerson. Emerson's Antislavery Writings. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995. 362 Emerson, Ralph Waldo, Robert Ernest Spiller, and Alfred Riggs Ferguson. The Collected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1971. Esch, Betsy, and Nancy Coffin. "On Literature and Resistance". Detroit, MI, 1997. Interview. 11 September 2009. <http://www.solidarity- us.org/node/1835>. Esquibel, Catrióna Rueda. With Her Machete in Her Hand : Reading Chicana Lesbians. Chicana Matters Series. 1st ed. Austin, Tex.: University of Texas Press, 2006. Fanon, Frantz. The Wretched of the Earth. New York, NY: Grove Press, 1963. ---. The Wretched of the Earth. First Evergreen ed. New York, NY: Grove Weidenfeld, 1991. Fisher, Beth. "The Captive Mexicana and the Desiring Bourgeois Woman: Domesticity and Expansionism in Ruiz De Burton’s Who Would Have Thought It?" Legacy 16.1 (1999). Fisher, Dexter., ed. The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980. Fox, Richard Gabriel, and Orin Starn. Between Resistance and Revolution : Cultural Politics and Social Protest. New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 1997. Fuller, Margaret. Woman in the Nineteenth Century. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1980. ---. Summer on the Lakes in 1843. Prairie State Books. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1991. 363 ---, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and George Ripley. "The Dial." [Boston: Weeks, Jordan, and Co., 1840. 4 vols. ---, Arthur B. Fuller, and Horace Greeley. Woman in the Nineteenth Century : And Kindred Papers Relating to the Sphere, Condition and Duties of Woman. New and complete ed. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1875. Gandhi, and Narayan Shriman. The Selected Works of Mahatma Gandhi. Ahmedabad, India: Navajivan Publishing House, 1968. García, Alma M. "The Development of Chicana Feminist Discourse, 1970 - 1980." Gender and Society 3.2 (1989): 217-238 ---. Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings. New York: Routledge, 1997. Garcia, Ignacio M. Chicanismo: The Forging of a Militant Ethos Among Mexican Americans. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1997. García, John A., et al., eds. The Chicano Struggle : Analyses of Past and Present Efforts. Binghamton, N.Y.: Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe, 1984. Gaspar de Alba, Alicia. Chicano Art inside/Outside the Master's House: Cultural Politics and the Cara Exhibition. 1st ed. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press, 1998. Gellner, Ernest. Thought and Change. London, UK: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1964. Goldman, Anne E. "’Who Ever Heard of a Blue-Eyed Mexican?’: Satire and Sentimentality in María Amparo Ruiz De Burton’s Who Would Have Thought It?" Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage. Eds. Erlinda Gonzalez-Berry and Chuck Tatum. Vol. 2. Houston, TX: Arte Publico Press, 1996. 364 González, Gilbert G., and Raul Fernandez. "Chicano History: Transcending Cultural Models." The Pacific Historical Revidw 63.4 (1994): 469-497. González, Marcial. Chicano Novels and the Politics of Form: Race, Class and Reification. Class: Culture. Ed. Amy Schrager Lang and Bill V. Mullen. Ann Arbor, MI: The University of Michigan Press, 2009. González-Berry, Erlinda. "La Mujer Chicana." Women's Studies Newsletter 2.1 (1974): 3. Gramsci, Antonio. "Hegemony, Intellectuals and the State." Cultural Theory and Popular Culture : A Reader. Ed. John Storey. 2nd ed ed. Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire ; New York: Prentice Hall, 1998. 210-216. Greenfeld, Liah. Nationalism and the Mind : Essays on Modern Culture. Oxford: Oneworld, 2006. Griswold del Castillo, Richard, et al. Chicano Art : Resistance and Affirmation, 1965-1985. Los Angeles: Wight Art Gallery, University of California, 1991. Guarneri, Carl. The Utopian Alternative : Fourierism in Nineteenth- Century America. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1991. Gura, Philip F. American Transcendentalism: A History. 1st ed. New York, NY: Hill and Wang, 2007. Harlow, Barbara. Resistance Literature. London, UK: Methuen and Co: University Paperbacks, 1987. Harrold, Stanley. The Rise of Aggressive Abolitionism: Addresses to the Slaves. Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky, 2004. 365 Holliday, J. S., and William Swain. The World Rushed In: The California Gold Rush Experience. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1981. Hollinger, David A. Postethnic America: Beyond Multiculturalism. New York: BasicBooks, 1995. Hurtado, Albert L. Indian Survival on the California Frontier. Yale Western Americana Series 35. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988. Ignatiev, Noel. How the Irish Became White. New York: Routledge, 1995. Jacobs, Harriet A., et al. Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Enl. ed. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2000. Jameson, Fredric. Archaeologies of the Future: The Desire Called Utopia and Other Science Fictions. New York: Verso, 2005. ---. Postmodernism: Or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism. Post- Contemporary Interventions. Vol. 438. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1991. ---. The Political Unconscious: Narrative as a Socially Symbolic Act. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1981. Kaplan, Amy, and Donald E. Pease. Cultures of United States Imperialism. New Americanists. Durham: Duke University Press, 1993. Kilcup, Karen L. "Embodied Pedagogies: Femininity, Diversity, and Community in Anthologies of Women's Writing, 1836-2009." Legacy 26.2 (2009): 299-328. 366 Kowalewski, Michael, and California Council for the Humanities. Gold Rush : A Literary Exploration. Berkeley, Calif.: Heyday Books in conjunction with the California Council for the Humanities, 1997. Kristeva, Julia. Strangers to Ourselves. European Perspectives. New York: Columbia University Press, 1991 Kuhn, Thomas S. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 3rd ed. Chicago, Ill.: University of Chicago Press, 1996. Lafaye, Jacques. "Historical Differences: Caste Society in New Spain." Artes de México: Nueva Epoca 8.Summer (1990): 81-88. Licón, Gustavo. "¡La Unión Hace La Fuerza! (Unity Creates Strength!) M.E.Ch.A. And Chicana/O Student Activism in California, 1967- 1999." Dissertation. University of Southern California, 2009. Limon, José. American Encounters: Greater Mexico, the United States, and the Erotics of Culture. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1998. Longeaux y Vasquez, Enriqueta. "Soy Chicana Primero." El Cuaderno 1.1 (1971): 17-22. ---. "The Mexican-American Woman." Sisterhood Is Powerful. Ed. Robin Morgan. New York: Vintage Books: Random House, 1970. 379- 384. ---. "The Woman of La Raza." Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings. Ed. Alma M. Garcia. New York: Routledge, 1997. ---. "The Woman of La Raza." Magazín 1.4 (1972): 66-68. ---. "The Woman of La Raza." Aztlán : An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. Eds. Luis Valdez and Stan Steiner. [1st ed. New York: Vintage Books, 1972. 272-278. 367 ---. "The Women of La Raza." El Grito del Norte 2 (1969): 8-9 ---. Dionne Espinoza, and Lorena Oropeza. Enriqueta Vasquez and the Chicano Movement : Writings from El Grito Del Norte. Hispanic Civil Rights Series. Houston, Tex.: Arte Público Press, 2006. Lott, Eric. Love and Theft : Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class. Race and American Culture. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Lorde, Audre. The Cancer Journals. 1st ed. Argyle, N.Y.: Spinsters, Ink, 1980. Lucero-Trujillo, Marcela Christine. "Machismo Is Part of Our Culture." The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States. Ed. Dexter Fisher. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980. ---. "No More Cookies Please." The Third Woman: Minority Women Writers of the United States. Ed. Dexter Fisher. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980. Martin, Biddy. Femininity Played Straight: The Significance of Being Lesbian. New York: Routledge, 1996. Martín-Rodríguez, Manuel M. Life in Search of Readers : Reading (in) Chicano/a Literature. 1st ed. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003. Martínez, Elizabeth, ed. 500 Años Del Pueblo Chicano / 500 Years of Chicano History in Pictures. Albuquerque, NM: Southwest Organizing Project, 1991. ---. De Colores Means All of Us: Latina Views for a Multi-Colored Century. Cambridge, MA: South End Press, 1998. 368 ---. "History Makes Us, We Make History,." The Feminist Memoir Project : Voices from Women's Liberation. Eds. Rachel Blau DuPlessis and Ann Barr Snitow. 1st ed. New York: Three Rivers Press, 1998. xii, 531 p. ---. "A View from New Mexico: Recollections of the Movimiento Left." Monthly Review (2002). 1/30/06. Mason, Alane Salierno. "Buona Sera, Social Clubs?" Boston Review. October / November (2003). McCullough, Kate. Regions of Identity : The Construction of America in Women's Fiction, 1885-1914. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1999. Modleski, Tania. Old Wives Tales and Other Women’s Stories. New York: New York University Press, 1998. Mora, Magdalena, and Adelaida R. Del Castillo. Mexican Women in the United States : Struggles Past and Present. Occasional Paper - Chicano Studies Research Center Publications, University of California No. 2. Los Angeles: Chicano Studies Research Center Publications, University of California, 1980. Mora, Pat. Chants. Houston TX: Arte Publico Press, 1985. Moraga, Cherríe. Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios. Boston, MA: Southe End Press, 1983. ---. The Last Generation. Boston, MA: South End Press, 1993. ---. and Gloria Anzaldúa. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Women of Color Series. Expanded 3rd ed. Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 2002. 369 Moreno, Dorinda. La Mujer En Pie De Lucha: Y La Hora Es Ya! Mexico: Espina del Norte, 1973. Morgan, Robin. Sisterhood Is Powerful : An Anthology of Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. New York: Vintage Books, 1970. Muñoz Jr., Carlos Youth, Identity, Power: The Chicano Movement. New York, NY: Verso Press, 2007. Nairn, Tom. The Break-up of Britain. London, UK: New Left Books, 1981. Nash, Roderick. Wilderness and the American Mind. 3rd ed. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1982. Newman, Lance. Our Common Dwelling: Henry Thoreau, Transcendentalism, and the Class Politics of Nature. 1st ed. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. ---. "Thoreau's Natural Community and Utopian Socialism." American Literature 75.3 (2003). Nelson, Cary. "Multiculturalism without Guarantees: From Anthologies to the Social Text." The Journal of the Midwest Modern Language Association 26.1 (1993): 47-57. Netkin, Hal. "What Is Aztlan, Raza and Mecha". Los Angeles, 2008. Website. LA Mayor No. April 17, 2010. <http://www.mayorno.com/WhoIsMecha.html>. "No Place for ‘Reconquista’." Editorial. Los Angeles Examiner April 20. 2006. 370 Notar, Beth E. "Producing Cosmopolitanism at the Borderlands: Lonely Planeteers And "Local" Cosmopolitans in Southwest China." Anthropological Quarterly 81.3 (2008): 615-650. O'Brien, Harriet Ellen. Lost Utopias: A Brief Description of Three Quests for Happiness, Alcott's Fruitlands, Old Shaker House, and American Indian Museum, Rescued from Oblivion. Boston, MA: P. Walton Publishers, 1929. Ortiz, Roxanne Dunbar. Outlaw Woman : A Memoir of the War Years, 1960-1975. San Francisco: City Lights, 2001. Padilla, Genaro M. My History, Not Yours: The Formation of Mexican American Autobiography. Wisconsin Studies in American Autobiography. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1993. Pal, Dharam. "Civil Disobedience in Indian Tradition." Dharam Pal's Collected Writings. Ed. Intro by: Jayprakash Narayan. Vol. 2. Other India Press, 2000. Pathfinder Press. Documents of the Chicano Struggle. [New York: Pathfinder Press, 1971. Paredes, Raymund. "The Evolution of Chicano Literature." Three American Literatures: Essays in Chicano, Native American, and Asian American Literature for Teachers of American Literature. Ed. Houston A. Baker Jr. New York: Modern Language Association Press, 1982. 33-79. Pérez, Emma. The Decolonial Imaginary: Writing Chicanas into History. Bloomington, IN: University of Indiana Press, 1995. 371 Perez, Laura Elisa. "El Disorden, Nationalisms and Chicano/a Aesthetics." Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms and the State. Eds. Caren Kaplan, Norma Alarcón and Minoo Moallem. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1999. Perez-Torres, Rafael. Movements in Chicano Poetry: Against Myths, against Margins. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Pitzer, Donald E, ed. America’s Communal Utopias. Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 1997. Pratt, Jeff C. Class, Nation and Identity : The Anthropology of Political Movements. London ; Sterling, Va.: Pluto Press, 2003. Rich, Adrienne. On Lies, Secrets, and Silence: Selected Prose 1966- 1978. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1995. Rogin, Michael Paul. Subversive Genealogy : The Politics and Art of Herman Melville. New York: Knopf, 1983. Romero, Laura. "Nationalism and Internationalism: Domestic Differences in a Postcolonial World." American Literature 67.4 (1995): 795- 800. Royce, Josiah. Studies of Good and Evil; a Series of Essays Upon Problems of Philosophy and Life. New York,: D. Appleton and company, 1899. Ruiz de Burton, María Amparo. Conflicts of Interest : The Letters of María Amparo Ruiz De Burton. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 2001. ---. The Squatter and the Don. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. 2nd ed. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1997. 372 ---. Who Would Have Thought It? Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Project Publication. Eds. Rosaura Sánchez and Beatrice Pita. Houston, TX: Arte Público Press, 1995. Said, Edward W. Culture and Imperialism. 1st Vintage Books ed. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1994. ---. Orientalism. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1994. Saldívar, José David. Border Matters : Remapping American Cultural Studies. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997. Saldívar, Ramón. Chicano Narrative: The Dialectics of Difference. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconson Press, 1990. Saldívar-Hull, Sonia. Feminism on the Border: Chicana Gender Politics and Literature. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2000. Sandoval, Chela. Methodology of the Oppressed. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2000. Scott, James C. Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1985. Segura, Denise A., ed. Living Chicana Theory. Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 1998. ---. "Slipping through the Cracks: Dilemmas in Chicana Education." Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies. Eds. Adela de la Torre and Beatriz M. Pesquera. Berkeley: CA: University of California Press, 1993. ---, and Beatriz M. Pesquera. "Beyond Indifference and Apathy: The Chicana Movement and Chicana Feminist Discourse." Aztlán 19.2 (1992). 373 Short, Kayann. "Coming to the Table: The Differential Politics of This Bridge Called My Back." Genders.19 (1994). Sosa-Riddell, Adaljiza "History of Malcs". <http://www.malcs.org/history/>. Spahr, Juliana. Everybody’s Autonomy: Connective Reading and Collective Identity. Tuscaloosa AL: The University of Alabama Press, 2001. Spillers, Hortense J. Comparative American Identities : Race, Sex, and Nationality in the Modern Text. New York: Routledge, 1991. Stevenson, Pascha A. "Reader Expectations and Ethnic Rhetorics: The Problem of the Passing Subaltern in Who Would Have Thought It?" Ethic Studies Review 28.2 (2005): 15. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. The Spivak Reader. New York, NY: Routledge, 1996. Streeby, Shelley. American Sensations : Class, Empire, and the Production of Popular Culture. American Crossroads 9. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002. Sutherland, Elizabeth. "An Introduction." Sisterhood Is Poweful: An Anthology of Writing from the Women's Liberation Movement. Ed. Robin Morgan. New York: Vintage: Random House, 1970. ----. and Enriqueta Longeaux y Vasquez. "Colonized Women: The Chicana." Liberation Now! Writings from the Women's Liberation Movement. Eds. Deborah Babcox and Madeline Belkin. A Laurel Original. New York: Dell Publishing Co., 1971. Thoreau, Henry David. Walden and Civil Disobedience. New York, NY: Penguin Classics, 1983. 374 ---. Walden and Civil Disobedience. New York, NY: Penguin Books, 1983. Tocqueville, Alexis de, Gerald E. Bevan, and Isaac Kramnick. Democracy in America: And Two Essays on America. London, UK: Penguin Books, 2003. Toulmin, Stephen. Cosmopolis : The Hidden Agenda of Modernity. New York: Free Press, 1990. Trujillo, Carla. Chicana Lesbians: The Girls Our Mothers Warned Us About. Berkeley, CA: Third Woman Press, 1991. Valdez, Luis, and Stan Steiner, eds. Aztlan: An Anthology of Mexican American Literature. New York, NY: Knopf, 1972. Watson, Paul Joseph. "Racist Mexican Gangs "Ethnic Cleansing" Blacks in L.A." Prison Planet (2007): 5 pp. April, 2010 <http://www.prisonplanet.com/articles/january2007/220107mexic angangs.htm>. Williams, Patricia J. The Alchemy of Race and Rights. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1991. Yarbro-Bejarano, Yvonne. "Chicana Literature from a Chicana Feminist Perspective." Feminisms: An Anthology of Literary Theory and Criticism. Ed. Robyn Warhol and Diane P. Herndl. New Brunswick, CT: Rutgers University Press, 1991. ---. "Deconstructing the Lesbian Body: Cherríe Moraga’s Loving in the War Years." Chicana Lesbians: The Girls Our Mothers Warned Us About. Ed. Carla Trujillo. Berkeley: CA: Third Woman Press, 1991. 143-152. 375 ---. "From Acto to Mito: A Critical Appraisal of the Teatro Campesino." Modern Chicano Writers: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Joseph and Tomas Ybarra-Frausto Som. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1979. 176-188. ---. The Wounded Heart : Writing on Cherríe Moraga. Chicana Matters Series. 1st ed. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2001. Zizek, Slavoj. "Welcome to the Desert of the Real." Re: Constructions - Reflections on Humanity and Media After Tragedy (2001). <http://web.mit.edu/cms/reconstructions/interpretations/desertre al.html>. 376 Appendix A Contributors to This Bridge Called My Back Norma Alarcon The Imperial Tapestry: American Colonial Architecture in the Philippines (2008) La Naturaleza en disputa: reto ́ricas del cuerpo y el paisaje en Ame ́rica Latina (2002) Between Woman and Nation: Nationalisms, Transnational Feminisms, and the State (1999) Third World: Feminist Perspective on Racism by Norma Alarcon (1994) Chicana Critical Issues (1993) Ninfomani ́a: el discurso feminista en la obra poe ́tica de Rosario Castellanos (1992) Philippine Architecture during the pre-Spanish and Spanish Periods (1991) The Sexuality of Latinas (1989) Third Woman: the Sexuality of Latinas (1989) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) "Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Re-vision Through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object" 450 450 Use of bold denotes the author’s contribution to This Bridge Called My Back. 377 Gloria Evangelina Anzaldua This Bridge We Call Home: radical visions for transformation (co- editor) (2002) Interviews = Entrevistas (with AnaLouise Keating, ed.) (2000) Cassell's Encyclopedia of Queer Myth, Symbol and Spirit: Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Lore (1998) Des Conocimientos = Ways of Knowing (1996) Prietita and the Ghost Woman / Prietita y La Llorona (1996) Lloronas, Women Who Howl: Autohistorias-Torias and the Production of Writing, Knowledge, and Identity (1996) Nos/otras Making Multi-cultures and Alliances (1994) Friends From the Other Side = Amigos del otro lado (1993) La Prieta (1992) Prietita Has a Friend / Prietita tiene un Amigo (1991) Making Face, Making Soul = Haciendo Caras: Creative and Critical Perspectives by Women of Color (editor) (1990) Speaking in Tongues: Chicana/Latina writers and their work (1989) Borderlands / La Frontera: the New Mestiza (1987) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) "Speaking in Tongues: A Letter to Third World Women Writers" “La Prieta” “O.K. Momma, Who the Hell Am I?: An Interview with Luisah Teish” “Introduction” (with Cherrie Moraga) Toni Cade Bambara Those Bones Are Not My Child (1999) Deep Sightings and Rescue Missions (1996) The Bombing of Osage Avenue (Documentary on videotape) (1986) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) Foreword” The Salt Eaters (1980) The Sea Birds Are Still Alive (1977) 378 Gorilla, My Love (1972) Tales and Stories for Black Folks (1971) The Black Woman: An Anthology (1970) Barbara M. Cameron This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Gee, You Don’t Seem Like An Indian From the Reservation” Andrea R. Canaan This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Brownness” Jo Carrillo This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (1981) “And When You Leave, Take Your Pictures With You” “Beyond the Cliffs of Abiquiu” Chrystos Best Lesbian Erotica 1999 (1998) Wilder Reis: aus dem amerikanischen Englisch von Audrey Huntley (1997) Fire Power (1995) Fugitive Colors (1995) In Her I Am (1993) Dream On (1991) Shame On (1990) Not Vanishing (1988) 379 This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (1981) “He Saw” “I Walk in the History of My People” “I Don’t Understand Those Who Have Turned Away From Me” “Ceremony for Completing a Poetry Reading” “Give Me Back” “No Rock Scorns Me as Whore” Cheryl Clarke This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Lesbianism: An Act of Resistance” Combahee River Collective The Combahee River Collective statement: Black Feminist organizing in the seventies and eighties (1986) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “A Black Feminist Statement” Eleven Black Women: why did they die (1980) 11 Mujeres Negras: por que fueron asesinadas (1980) Gabrielle Daniels This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Millicent Fredericks” 380 doris juanita davenport This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “The Pathology of Racism: A Conversation with Third World Wimmin” hattie gossett This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “billie lives! billie lives!” “who told you anybody wants to hear from you? you ain’t nothing but a black woman!” mary hope lee This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “on not bein” Aurora Levins Morales Power-Under: Trauma and Nonviolent Social Change, by Steven Wineman (Foreword) (2003) The History of Latinos in West Oakland: community narratives (2000) Remedios: stories of earth and iron from the history of Puertorriquen ̃as (1998) Medicine Stories: history, culture, and the politics of integrity (1998) The Historian as Curandera (1998) Remedios: medicine stories from the history of Puerto Rican women and our kin (1997) Getting Home Alive (1986) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “...And Even Fidel Can’t Change That!” 381 Genny Lim This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Wonder Woman” Naomi Littlebear Morena This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Dreams of Violence” “Earth-Lover, Survivor, Musician” Audre Lorde Conversations with Audre Lorde (2004) The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde (1997) The Marvelous Arithmetics of Distance: poems 1987-1992 (1993) Growing Up Black: From the Slave Days to the Present - 25 African- Americans reveal the trials and triumphs of their childhoods (1992) Undersong: chosen poems, old and new (1992) Need: a chorale for black woman voices (1990) A Burst of Light: essays (1988) Our Dead Behind Us: poems (1986) Apartheid U.S.A. / freedom organizing in the eighties / Merle Woo (1986) Sister Outsider: essays and speeches by Audre Lorde (1984) Before Stonewall: the making of a gay and lesbian community (1984) Zami, a new spelling of my name (1982) Chosen Poems, Old and New by (1982) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “An Open Letter to Mary Daly” “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House” The Cancer Journals (1980) The Black Unicorn: poems (1978) 382 Uses of the Erotic: the erotic as power (1978) New York Head Shop and Museum (1974) From a Land Where Other People Live (1973) Cables to Rage (1970) Coal (1968) Cherríe Moraga: (1952 - present) Currently teaching theater at Stanford University Watsonville, some place not here (2004) Circle in the Dirt, el pueblo de East Palo Alto (2004) The Hungry Woman (2001) Canto Florido (1998) Waiting in the Wings: portrait of a queer motherhood (1997) Heroes and Saints & other plays (1994) "Art in America Con Acento" (1994). Anthologized in Women Writing Resistance: essays on Latin America and the Caribbean (2003). Giving up the Ghost : a stage play in three portraits (1994) The Last Generation: prose and poetry by Cherrie Moraga (1993) Shadow of a Man (1992) The Sexuality of Latinas (1989) Esta puente, mi espalda: voces de mujeres tercermundistas en los Estados Unidos (1988) Cherríe Moraga poems (1988) Giving up the Ghost: teatro in two acts (1986) Loving in the War Years: lo que nunca paso ́ por sus labios (1983) Cuentos: stories by Latinas (1983) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) - (co-editor) "Preface" "Introduction" "For the Color of My Mother" "La Güera" "The Welder" "Third Women of the United States: Selected Bibliography" 383 Rosario Morales This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “I Am What I Am” “We’re All in the Same Boat,” “The Other Heritage” Judit Moschkovich This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “- But I Know You, American Woman” Barbara Noda This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Lowriding Through the Women’s Movements” Pat Parker This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Revolution: It’s Not Neat or Pretty or Quick” Mirtha Quintanales This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “I Come With No Illusions,” “I Paid Very Hard for My Immigrant Ignorance” Donna Kate Rushin This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “The Bridge Poem” 384 Barbara Smith Writings on Race, Gender and Freedom: The Truth that Never Hurts (1998) The Reader's Companion to U.S. Women's History (Co-editor, with Wilma Mankiller, Gwendolyn Mink, Marysa Navarro and Gloria Steinem) (1998) "‘Feisty Characters’ and ‘Other People's Causes’: Memories of White Racism and U.S. Feminism," in The Feminist Memoir Project: Voices from Women's Liberation, eds. Rachel Blau DuPlessis and Ann Snitow (1998) "Where Has Gay Liberation Gone? An Interview with Barbara Smith," in Homo Economics: Capitalism, Community, and Lesbian and Gay Life, eds. Amy Gluckman and Betsy Reed (1997) Yours in Struggle: Three Feminist Perspectives on Anti-Semitism and Racism (with Elly Bulkin & Minnie Bruce Pratt) (1984) Home Girls: A Black Feminist Anthology (ed.) (1983) All the Women Are White, All the Blacks are Men, But some of Us Brave: Black Women's Studies. (Co-editor, with Gloria T. Hull & Patricia Bell Scott) (1982) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) "Across the Kitchen Table: A Sister-to-Sister Dialogue,"(with Beverly Smith) (1981) Conditions: Five, The Black Women's Issue 2, no. 2 (Co-editor, with Lorraine Bethel) (1979) Beverly Smith “Choosing Ourselves: Black Women and Abortion,” From Abortion to Reproductive Freedom: Transforming a Movement (1990) “Some Thoughts on Racism,” Aegis Journal (1983) “The Wedding,” Home Girls: A Black Feminist Anthology, ed. Barbara Smith (1983) “Black Women's Health: Notes for a Course,” in But Some of Us are Brave: Black Women's Studies, (1982) “Face-to-Face, Day-to-day — Racism Consciousness Raising, A conversation with Tia Cross, Freada Klein & Beverly Smith,” in 385 But Some of Us are Brave: Black Women's Studies, eds. Gloria T. Hull, Patricia Bell Scott and Barbara Smith (1982) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) "Across the Kitchen Table: A Sister-to-Sister Dialogue," (with Barbara Smith) Conditions (1978) (magazine) “I Am Not Meant to be Alone” “Without You Who Understand: Letters From Black Feminists, 1972-1978,” (with Barbara Smith) “The Varied Voices of Black Women,” in Sojourner (magazine) (with Barbara Smith) (1978) Combahee River Collective Statement (with Barbara Smith and Demita Frazier Smith) (1977) Anita Valerio / Max Wolf Valerio The Testosterone Files: My Hormonal and Social Transformation from Female to Male (2006) Unhung Heroes (Film, 2002) Gendernauts: a Journey Across the Great Gender Divide (Film, 2000) Female Misbehavior (Film, 1992 and 2006) Man: the Transsexual Journey of an Agent Provocateur (1997) The Criminal (1988) Animal Magnetism (as Anita Valerio) (1984) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “It’s In My Blood, My Face - My Mother’s Voice, The Way I Sweat,” (as Anita Valerio) 386 Nellie Wong This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “When I Was Growing Up” “In Search of the Self as Hero: Confetti of Voices on New Year’s Night” Merle Woo Yellow Woman Speaks: selected poems (1986) Apartheid U.S.A. (with Audre Lorde) (1985) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Letter to Ma” Three Asian American Writers Speak Out on Feminism (with Mitsuye Yamada and Nellie Wong) (1979) Mitsuye Yamada Sowing Ti Leaves: Writings by Multi-cultural Women (with Sarie Sachie Hylkema) (1990) Desert Run: Poems and Stories (1988) The Webs We Weave: Orange County Poetry Anthology (with John Brander) (1986) This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, (1981) “Invisibility is an Unnatural Disaster: Reflections of an Asian American Woman” “Asian Pacific American Women and Feminism” Three Asian American Writers Speak Out on Feminism (with Nellie Wong and Merle Woo) (1979) Camp Notes and Other Poems (1976) 387 Appendix B Contributors to Chicana Voices Yolanda Broyles-Gonzalez Currently: Professor, Department of Mexican American and Raza Studies, University of Arizona Lydia Mendoza's life in music: norten!o tejano legacies = La historia de Lydia Mendoza (2001) Re-emerging Native Women of the Americas: Native Chicana Latina Women's Studies (2001) Chicana/o Studies 139: Native American Heritage and Chicano Cultural Renaissance(2000) El Teatro Campesino: Theater in the Chicano Movement (1994) Una Pastorela: a Shepherd's Play (1988) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) “Women in El Teatro Campesino: ‘¿Apoco Estaba Molacha La Virgen de Guadalupe?” 451 The German Response to Latin American Literature and the Reception of Jorge Luis Borges and Pablo Neruda (1979) 451 Use of bold denotes the author’s contribution to Chicana Voices. 388 Roberto R. Calderón Currently Associate Professor, Department of History, University of North Texas Mexican Coal Mining Labor in Texas and Coahuila, 1880-1930 (2000) “All Over the Map: La Onda Tejana and the Making of Selena,” in eds. David R. Maciel, Isidro D. Ortiz, and María Herrera-Sobek, Chicano Renaissance: Contemporary Cultural Trends (2000) “Unio ́n, Paz y Trabajo: Laredo’s Mexican Mutual Aid Societies, 1890s,” in eds. Emilio Zamora, Cynthia Orozco, and Rodolfo Rocha, Mexican Americans in Texas History: Selected Essays (2000) Nuestra Voz: Memories of Our Education (1999) “Tejano Politics, The New Handbook of Texas." (1996) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) “Manuela Soli!s Sager and Emma B. Tenayuca: A Tribute”(with Emilio Zamora) (1986) Reprinted in Between Borders: Essays on Mexicana/Chicana History, ed. Adelaida R. Del Castillo (1990) South Texas Coal Mining: A Community History (1984) Norma Cantú Currently Professor of English and U.S. Latina/o Literature, University of Texas Dancing Across Borders: Danzas y Bailes Mexicanos (co-editor, with Olga Na ́jera-Rami ́rez and Brenda Romero) (2009) “La Llorona Considers the State of Tortillas,” in ed. Robert Giro ́n, Poetic Voices Without Borders 2 (2009) “The Wall,” in ed. Angie Cruz, Vandal Walls (2009) Prietas y Gu ̈eras: Proceedings of the First Conference on the Life and Work of Gloria Anzaldu ́a (Co-editor) (2009) “Cloud Seven” and “Radio” from Champu or Hair Matters. In Ventana Abierta (2009) “The Semiotics of Land: Los Matachines de la Santa Cruz,” in Dancing across Borders: Danzas y bailes mejicanos (2009) “1836 Texas Border Writing,” in eds. Greil Marcus and Werner Sollors, A New Literary History of America (2009) 389 “La Llorona Considers the State of Tortillas,” in Feminist Studies: The Chicana Studies Issue (2008) "Adios en Madrid," in Antologi ́a del Cuento Chicano (2008) "Mexican Citizen," in Art at our Doorstep: San Antonio Writers + Artist (2008) “Being Tejana: Thoughts on Life, Land, and Culture,” in ed. Jesu ́s Rosales (2008) “Introduction,” in Paths to Discovery: Autobiographies from Chicanas with Careers in Mathematics, Science and Engineering (2008) "Poemas del desierto: 'La Luna' 'Sangre en el desierto,' and 'Two Countries'" in Sonarida: Revista de Encuentro entre Sonora y Arizona (2007) "Living to Tell, Telling to Live: three Literary Exercises," in ed. Bret Anthony Johnston, Naming the World and Other Exercises for the Creative Writer (2007) "A Weak Verb" and "Strong Verbs," in Main Channel Voices (2007) "Sangre en el desierto," "Two Countries," and "La luna" in Puentes: Revista me ́xico-chicana de literaria, cultura y arte (2007) “Fronteriza Consciousness: The Site and Language of the Academy and of Life,” in eds. Jennifer Sinor and Rona Kaufman, Placing the Academy: Essays on Landscape and Academic Identity (2007) "Halloween" and "Santa Maria," in Hecho en Tejas, An Anthology of Texas Mexican Literature (2006) Flor y ciencia: Chicanas in Mathematics, Science and Engineering. (Editor) (2006) “Adios in Madrid,” in Paralelo Sur Revista de Arte y Literatura (2006) Flor y ciencia: Chicanas in Mathematics, Science and Engineering (ed.) (2006) Entries: “Santa Fe Style,” “Paper Arts,” “Parades and Processions,” and numerous other entries (and one of seven senior eds.) in eds. Suzanne Oboler and Deena Gonza ́lez, Oxford Encyclopedia of Latino and Latina Studies (2005) “Adios in Madrid,” in Paralelo Sur (2005) “Muy Macho! The Construction of Latino Masculinity,” in ed. Simon Bronner, Manly Traditions (2005) 390 “Whose Story Is It Anyway? Autobiography on the Border,” in ed. Jamie H. García, Beginning a New Millennium of Chicana and Chicano Scholarship: Selected Proceedings of the 2001 NACCS Conference (2004) “Luto” in Cuentos Latinos (2003) “Montserrat Fontes,” in Reading Latina Writers: a Remapping of American Literature (2003) “Pastoras and Malinches: Women in Traditional Folk Drama,” in Vol. 5 of the Recovering the U.S Literary Heritage Project (2003) “Breaking Boundaries, Finding Forms: Writing Cani ́cula,” in Chicana Feminisms: A Reader (2003) Chicana Traditions: Continuity and Change (Co-editor, with Olga Na ́jera Rami ́rez) (2002) “Dreaming of Hummingbirds and Rattlesnakes: Impressions of a Tejana in Idaho,” in Latinos in Idaho (2002) “Centering the Margins: A Chicana in the English Classroom,” in eds. Eds. Bonnie TuSmith and Maureen T. Reddy, Race in the Classroom: Pedagogy and Politics (2002) “Western Autobiography and Memoir: A Panel of Writers,” in Western American Literature Special Issue: Western Autobiography and Memoir (2002) Telling to Live: Latina Feminist Testimonios (Co-editor with the Latina Feminist Group). Individual pieces include: “Getting there cuando no hay camino,” “A Working Class Bruja’s Fears,” and two poems: “Migraine” and “Reading the Body” (2001) Cani ́cula: Ima ́genes de una nin ̃ez fronteriza (Trans.) (2000) “Tino” and “Perpetuo Socorro,” in Aztla ́n and Viet Nam: Chicano and Chicana Experiences of the War (1999) “La Quincean ̃era: towards an ethnographic analysis of a life-cycle ritual,” in Southern Folklore (1999) “Capirotada” in Stirring Prose (1998) “El luto,” in Ventana Abierta (1998) “Decolonizing the Mind” and “Trojan Horse” in Floricanto Sí: U.S. Latina Poetry (1998) “Bailando y Cantando,” short story, “Las diosas,” “Decolonizing the Mind,” and “Fiestas de diciembre,” poems in Blue Mesa Review (1997) 391 “Tino” and “Papi,” in eds. Judith Kitchen and Mary Paumier Jones, In Short (1996) “La Virgen de Guadalupe: Symbol of Faith and Devotion,” in Familia, Fe ́ y Fiestas/Family, Faith and Fiestas: Mexican American Celebrations of the Holiday Season (1996) Cani ́cula: Snapshots of a Girlhood en la frontera (1995) “Desde el otro lado: Margarita Canseco del Valle, escritora fronteriza,” in ed. Claire Joysmith, Las Formas de Nuestras Voces: Chicana and Mexicana Writers in Mexico (1995) “Los Matachines de la Santa Cruz de la Ladrillera: Notes Toward a Socio Literary Analysis,” in ed. Ramo ́n Gutierrez, Feasts and Celebrations in U.S. Ethnic Communities (1995) “The wound that will not heal,” in Program Book for the Festival of American Folklife (1993) “Snapshots of a Girlhood en la frontera,” in The Texas Humanist (1992) “Se me enchina el cuerpo al oir tu cuento,” in New Chicano/a Literature (1992) “Los Matachines de la Santa Cruz: un acto de resistencia cultural,” in Mito y Leyenda Tijuana (1992) “Costume as Cultural Resistance and Affirmation: The Case of a South Texas Community,” in Texas Folklore Society (1992) “Mexican American Quilting Traditions in Laredo, San Ygnacio and Zapata,” in Hecho en Texas (with Ofelia Zapata) (1992) “The Barrios of Laredo,” and “Los Matachines de la Santa Cruz,” in Sí Laredo (1989) “La Pastorela,” in Sí Laredo (1985) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) (co-editor) “Women, Then and Now: An Analysis of the Adelita Image versus the Chicana as Political Writer and Philosopher” “Unemployed” poem, Huehuetitlan (1984) “Tejanos Along the Border,” in The Texas Humanist (1983) “Untitled” poem, Huehuetitlan (1983) Translation of two poems by Alfonsina Storni: “Eye" and “Fisherman,” in Prairie Schooner (1979) Para Nin ̃os From Two Cultures (1973) 392 Gilberto Cárdenas Currently Director of the Institute for Latino Studies, University of Notre Dame, Indiana “Blacks, Latinos, and the Immigration Debate: Conflict and Cooperation in Two Global Cities,” in How the United States Racializes Latinos White Hegemony and its Consequences, eds. Jose ́ Cobas, Jorge Duany, and Joe R. Feagin (with Xo ́chitl Bada) (2009) “La Causa: Civil Rights and the Quest for Equality in the Midwest” (ed.) (2004) “Introduction: La Causa: Civil Rights and Struggles for Equality in the Midwest,” in ed. Gilberto Cardenas, La Causa - Civil Rights, Social Justice and the Struggle for Equality in the Midwest (2004) “Los Desarraigados: Los Chicanos in the Midwestern Region of the United States,” in Chon A. Noriega et al., The Chicano Studies Reader: Aztlan, 1970-2000 (2001; reprint of 1976 article) “Chicano Art and Its Antecendents: Reflections on the Formation of an Art Collection,” in Yasmin Ramirez and Henry Estrada, Pressing the Point: Parallel Expressions in the Graphic Arts of the Chicano and Puerto Rican Movements (1999) “Migration and Territorial Dispersion: The Formation of a National Chicano Population,” in ed. Adaljiza Sosa-Riddell, Expanding Raza World Views: Sexuality and Regionalism (1999) “Mexican Immigration into Texas,” in Discovery (1999) Cultural Refractions: Border Life en la tierra de nadie — Photographs by Byron Brauchli (with Roy Flukinger) (1998) Health and Social Services Among International Labor Migrants: A Comparative Perspective (Co-editor, with Antonio Ugalde) (1997) “The Changing Economic Position of Mexican Americans in San Antonio,” in eds. Rebecca Morales and Frank Bonilla, Latinos in a Changing Economy (with Jorge Chapa and Susan Burek) (1993) Ima ́genes de la Frontera: Monotipia/Monoprint Images of the Border, Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes (with Amelia Malagamba) (1992) 393 “Informe de la encuesta sobre los negocios y economía en los enclaves e ́tnicos,” in ed. Axel Ramírez, Chicanos: El Orgullo de Ser. Centro de Ensen ̃anza para Extranjeros (1992) “La movilidad del capital y los trabajadores en el siglo XX: Implicaciones para la comunidad de trabajadores mexicanos,” in Encuentros Ame ́rica Latina: Europa en la Perspectiva de 1992 (1992) Los Artistas Chicanos del Valle de Tejas: Narradores de Mitos y Tradiciones (with Amelia Malagamba) (1991) Las Mujeres de la Raza. VI Festival Internacional de la Raza (with Amelia Malagamba) (1990) “Cultura Fronteriza: Cultura sin Fronteras,” in ed. Amelia Malagamba, Encuentros (1989) “The Mexican Origin Population in the U.S. and U.S. Immigration Policy Toward Mexico,” in ed. Albert E. Utton, Una Frontera: Dos Naciones, Joint Border Research Institute (1988) “Immigrant and Native Ethnic Enterprises in Mexican American Neighborhoods: Differing Perceptions of Mexican Immigrant Workers,” in International Migration Review (with Niles Hansen) (1988) “The Division of Labor in Microelectronics: A Comparative Analysis of France, Mexico, and the United States,” in Studies in Comparative International Development (with Devon Pen ̃a) (1988) “The Assimilation of Undocumented Immigrants,” in eds. F. Benton Burdine et al., The Texas Frontier: Illegal Immigration (1987) Undocumented Immigrant Women. (with Estevan Flores) (1986) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) (co-editor) “Mexican Immigrants and the Chicano Ethnic Enterprise: Reconceptualizing an Old Problem,” in eds. Harley Browning and Rodolfo O. de la Garza, Mexican Immigrants and Mexican Americans (with Niles Hansen and Rodolfo O. de la Garza) (1986) “Fiscal Impacts of Undocumented Immigrants in Texas,” in The Mexican Forum (1985) 394 The Use of Public Services by Undocumented Aliens in Texas: A Study of State Costs and Revenues (with Sidney Weintraub, et al.) (1984) “Undocumented Immigrant Women in the Houston Labor Force,” in The California Sociologist (with Beth Ann Shelton and Devon G. Pen ̃a) (1982) “International Migration from the Dominican Republic: Findings from a National Survey,” in International Migration Review (with Antonio Ugalde and Frank Bean) (1979) “Mexican Migration to the Midwest,” in eds. June Machlin and Stan West, The Chicano Experience (1978) “Mexican Labor: A View to Conceptualizing the Effects of Migration, Immigration, on the Chicano Population in the United States,” in Jose ́ Herna ́ndez et al., Cuantos Somos: A Demographic Study of the Mexican American Population (1978) “Los Desarraigados: Los Chicanos en el Medio Oeste,” in ed. David R. Maciel, La Otra Cara de Me ́xico: Los Chicanos (1977) “Public Data on Mexican Immigration into the United States: A Critical Evaluation,” in eds. W. Boyd Littrell and Gideon Sjoberg, Current Issues in Policy Research (1976) “Los Desarraigados: Chicanos in the Midwestern Region of the United States,” in Aztla ́n: International Journal of Chicano Studies Research (1976) “Introduction - Who Are the Midwestern Chicanos: Implications for Chicano Studies,” in Aztla ́n: International Journal of Chicano Studies Research (1976) Chicanos in the Midwest, Aztla ́n: International Journal of Chicano Studies Research (guest editor) (1976) “United States Immigration Policy Toward Mexico: An Historical Perspective,” in Chicano Law Review (1975) Los Mojados: The Wetback Story (with Julia ́n Samora & Jorge Bustamante) (1971) 395 Teresa Carrillo Women, Trade Unions, and New Social Movements in Mexico: the Case of the "Nineteenth of September" Garment Workers Union (1990) Working Women and the "19th of September" Mexican Garment Workers Union: the Significance of Gender (1989) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) “The Woman’s Movement and the Left in Mexico: The Presidential Candidacy of Dona Rosario Ibarra” Richard Chabran "Place Matters, Journeys through Global and Local Spaces," in eds. edited by Marita Sturken, Douglas Thomas, and Sandra Ball- Rokeach, Reinventing Technology: Cultural Narratives of Technological Change (with Romelia Salinas) (2003) "Immigrants, Global Digital Economies, Cyber Segmentation, & Emergent Information Services," in ed. Susan Luevano, Immigrant Politics and the Public Library (2001) "From Digital Divide to Digital Opportunity," in Hispanic Lifestyle (2000) "The Digital Divide," in Elias Lopez, Ginny Puddefoot and Patricia Gandara, A Coordinated Approach to Raising the Socio- Economic Status of Latinos in California (with Ali, Saeed, Diana Rude ́, Raul Araujo, and Karen Origel) (2000) "Centers provide access, opportunity in low-income communities," in Philanthropy News Network (1999) The Latino Encyclopedia (with Rafael Chabra ́n, consulting eds.) (1996) "Local Communities in Global Society: Reflections on the California SB 600 Task Force," in Community Networking Conference Proceedings (1996) "Discourse and Discord: Voices from an Academic Library," co- published in The Reference Librarian and eds. Deborah A. Cury, Susan Griswold Blandy, and Lynne M. Martin, Racial and Ethnic Diversity in Academic Libraries: Multicultural Issues (with Rafaela Castro) (1994) 396 "The Spanish-Language and Latino Press of the United States: Newspapers and Periodicals," in Handbook of Hispanic Cultures in the United States: Literature and Art (with Rafael Chabra ́n) (1993) Chicano Database on CD-ROM (with Lillian Castillo-Speed and Francisco Garcia-Ayvens) (1990-) The Chicano Index (with Lillian Castillo Speed, Francisco Garcia-Ayvens (1991) "Fuentes de consulta latinas: Un ensayo bibliografico," in Catalogo de la exposicion de libros sobre cultura mexico-norteamericana (1990) "The Emergence of Neoconservatism in Chicano/Latino Discourse," in Cultural Studies (1990) "Latino Reference Sources: A Bibliographic Essay", in Latino Librarianship: A Handbook for Professionals (1990) "Activism and Intellectual Struggle in the Life of Ernesto Galarza," foreword in Resolana: A Chicano Pathway to Knowledge, Ernesto Galarza Commemorative Lecture by Tomas Atencio (1988) "Mapping Emergent Discourses: Latino Bibliographic Services in Academia," in eds. Sanford Berman and James P. Danky, Alternative Library Literature 1986-87: A Biennial Anthology (1988) "Latino Reference Arrives," in American Libraries (1987) Chicano Periodical Index (CHPI): A Comprehensive Subject, Author, and Title Index (with Lillian Castillo Speed and Francisco Garcia- Ayvens) (1985-1989) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Chicana Reference Sources" "Activism and Struggle in the Life of Ernesto Galarza, (1905-1984) with An Accompanying Bibliography," in Hispanic Journal of Behavioral Sciences (1985) "The History and Future of Major Academic Chicano Libraries," and "The Production of Chicano Writings" (and co-editor), in Biblio- Politica: Chicano Perspectives on Library Service in the United States (1984) 397 "U.S. Hispanic Data Bases: Contemporary Building Blocks for Future Information Systems," in Latin American Economic Issues: Information Needs and Sources (1984) "A Comparison between the California Spanish Language Data Base and The Chicano Data Base," SALALM Newsletter (1983) "Chicano Periodical Index," UCLA Librarian (1981) Chicano Library Resources at UCLA (with Francisco Garcia and Ron Rodriguez (1980) Guide to Hispanic Bibliographic Services in the United States (1980) "Information Services and Development," in El Mirlo: A National Chicano Studies Newsletter (1980) Teresa Cordova Chicano Studies: Critical Connection between Research and Community (1992) Community Intervention Efforts to Oppose Gentrification (1991) Local Communities and National Organizations: Land Use and Social Conflict in Southern Colorado (1986) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) (co-editor) The Chicano Struggle: Analyses of Past and Present Efforts (1984) Chicanas in the 80's: Unsettled Issues (1983) Barbara A. Driscoll El Color de la Tierra : las minorías en Me ́xico y Estados Unidos (2001) Límites Sociopolíticos y Fronteras Culturales en Ame ́rica del Norte: proyecto colectivo de estudios sobre Latinos (2000) Los procesos electorales en Ame ́rica del Norte en 1994 (2000) The Tracks North: the railroad bracero program of World War II (1997) Me Voy pa'Pensilvania por no Andar en la Vagancia: los ferrocarrileros mexicanos en Estados Unidos durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial (1996) La administracio ́n Clinton (1995) 398 La Frontera and its People: the early development of border and Mexican American studies (1993) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Chicana Historiography: A Research Note Regarding Mexican Archival Sources" El Programa de Braceros Ferroviarios (1985) Alma M. Garcia Currently Professor of Sociology, Santa Clara University "Legacy Oral History Project of Mexican American Community Activists in San Jose, California, 1960-2000" (with Francisco Jimenez) (2008). Awarded the 2008 Elizabeth B. Manson Small Project Award by the Oral History Association. Ethnic Community Builders: Mexican Americans in Search of Justice and Power, The Struggle for Citizenship Rights in San Jose, California (with Francisco Jimenez) (2007) Narratives of Mexican American Women: Emergent Identities Among the Second Generation (2004) The Mexican Americans (2002) Race and Ethnicity (ed.) (2000) Chicana Feminist Thought (ed.) (1998) "The Development of Chicana Feminist Discourse, 1970-1980," originally in Gender & Society (1989), reprinted in eighteen anthologies and textbooks. Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Studying Chicanas: Bringing Women into the Frame of Chicano Studies" Juan R. Garcia Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) (co-editor) 399 Clara Lomas Currently Associate Professor, Romance Languages and Comparative Literature, Colorado College Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, Volume 8 (co-editor, with Gabriela Baeza Ventura) (2010) The Rebel, by Leonor Villegas de Magnón (ed. Clara Lomas) (1994) "The Articulation of Gender in the Mexican Borderlands, 1900-1915," in eds. Ramón A. Gutiérrez & Genaro M. Padilla, Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, Volume 1 (1993) In Times of Challenge: Chicanos and Chicanas in American Society (Co-editor, with Juan R. García & Julia Curry Rodríguez) (1988) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Libertad de No Procrear: La Voz de la Mujer en ‘A una Madre de Nuestros Tiempos’ de Margarita Cota-Cardenas," and “Reproductive Freedom: The Voice of Women in Margarita Cota-Cardenas’s ‘A una Madre de Nuestros Tiempos’” Literatura y Sociedad: Crítica de la Realidad Peruana in Tres Novelas de Mario Vargas Llosa, La Cuidad y los Perros, Conversación en la Catedral, Pantaleón y las Visitadoras (1985) Marta Lopez-Garza "Convergence of the 'Public' and 'Private' Spheres: Latina Immigrant Women in the Informal Economy," in Journal of Race, Gender and Class (2002) "LA Freeway, LA Woman," in AMASS (2002) Asian and Latino Immigrants in a Restructuring Economy: The Metamorphosis of Los Angeles (co-editor, with David Diaz) (2001) “Introduction,” in Asian and Latino Immigrants in a Restructuring Economy: The Metamorphosis of Los Angeles (with David Diaz, ed.) (2001) “A Study of the Informal Economy and Latina/o Immigrants in Greater Los Angeles,” in eds. Marta Lopez-Garza and David Diaz, Asian and Latino Immigrants in a Restructuring Economy: The Metamorphosis of Los Angeles (2001) 400 Regions That Work: How Cities and Suburbs Can Grow Together (with Manuel Pastor, Peter Dreier, Eugene Grigsby) (2000) "Los Angeles: Ascendant Chicano Power," in Report on the Americas (1992) "Undocumented Latin American Immigrants and U.S. Health Services: An Approach to a Political Economy of Utilization," in Medical Anthropology Quarterly (with Leo Chavez and Estevan Flores) (1992) (editor of special issue) "Immigration and Economic Restructuring: The Metamorphosis of Southern California," California Sociologist (1992) "Here Today, Gone Tomorrow? Undocumented Settlers and Immigration Reform," in Human Organizations (with Leo Chavez and Estevan Flores) (1990) "Migrants and Settlers: A Comparison of Undocumented Mexicans and Central Americans in the United States," in Frontera Norte (with Leo Chavez and Estevan T. Flores) (1989) "Migration and Labor Force Participation among Undocumented Female Immigrants from Mexico and Central America," in In Defense of the Alien, ed. Lydio Tomasi (1988) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Toward a Reconceptualization of Women's Economic Activities: The Informal Sector in Urban Mexico" 401 Cynthia Orozco Currently teaches World Humanities, Western Civilization and Lincoln County history at Eastern New Mexico University, Ruidoso No Mexicans, Women, or Dogs Allowed: The Rise of the Mexican American Civil Rights Movement (2009) 25 entries in Latinas in the United States: An Historical Encyclopedia (2006) Mexican Americans in Texas History (Co-editor, with Emilio Zamora and Rodolfo Rocha) (2000) 80 entries in the New Handbook of Texas (1996) National Association of Latino Arts and Culture: 1995 report (1995) The Origins of the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) and the Mexican American Civil Rights Movement in Texas with an Analysis of Women's Political Participation in a Gendered Context, 1910-1929 by Cynthia E Orozco (1992) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Sexism in Chicano Studies and the Community" Getting Started in Chicana Studies (1986) Devon Peña Currently in the Department of Anthropology, University of Washington Mexican Americans and the Environment: Tierra y Vida (2005) (Senior ed.) Oxford Encyclopedia of Latinos and Latinas in the United States (2005) "Autonomy, equity, and environmental justice," in eds. David N. Pellow and Robert J. Brulle, Power, Justice, and the Environment: A Critical Appraisal of the Environmental Justice Movement (2005) "Tierra y vida: Chicano environmental justice struggles in the Southwest," in ed. Robert D. Bullard, The Quest for Environmental Justice: Human Rights and the Politics of Pollution (2005) Citizen's Guide to Colorado's Water Heritage (2004) "Community Acequias in Colorado's Rio Culebra Watershed: A Customary Commons in the Domain of Prior Appropriation," in University of Colorado Law Review (with Greg Hicks) (2003) Chicano Culture, Ecology, Politics: Subversive Kin (1998) 402 The Terror of the Machine Technology, Work, Gender, and Ecology on the U.S.-Mexico Border (1997) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Between the Lines: A New Perspective on the Industrial Sociology of Women Workers in Transnational Labor Processes" The Class Politics of Abstract Labor: Organizational Forms and Industrial Relations in the Mexican Maquiladoras (1983) Emerging Organizational Strategies of Maquila Workers on the Mexico- U.S. Border(1982) Maquiladoras: a select annotated bibliography and critical commentary on the United States-Mexico border industry program (1981) Lucha Obrera en las Maquiladoras Fronterizas = Mexican Women and Class Struggles in the Border Industry Program (1980) The Social Relations of Capitalism : the transformative relations of the primitive accumulation in Nuevo Santander (1978) Alvina E. Quintana Currently Associate Professor, Women's & Latin American Studies, University of Delaware Reading U.S. Latina Writers: Remapping American Literature (2003) Home Girls: Chicana Literary Voices (1995) Chicana discourse: Negations and Mediations (1989) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Women: Prisoners of the Word" Elba R. Sanchez Raza spoken here poesia chicana, Vol. 1 (1999) When Skin Peels (1999) Lenguas Sueltas: poemas (1994) From Silence to Howl (1993) Tallos de luna = Moon shoots (1992) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "La Realidad A Traves de la Inocencia en el Cuento: Un Paseo" 403 Denise A. Segura Department of Sociology, University of California at Santa Barbara “Navigating Between Two Worlds: The Labyrinth of Chicana Intellectual Production in the Academy” in Journal of Black Studies (2003) "Chicana Political Consciousness: Renegotiating Culture, Class and Gender with Oppositional Practices,” in Aztla ́n: A Journal of Chicano Studies (with Pesquera, B.M.) (1999) “La Sufrida: Contradictions of Acculturation and Gender in Latina Health Research," in eds. Adele E. Clark and Virginia L. Oleson, Revisioning Women, Health and Healing: Feminist, Cultural and Technoscience Perspectives (with A. De la Torre) (1999) "‘Es Su Cuerpo, Definitivamente Es Su Derecho,’ Chicanas/Latinas and Abortion," in VOCES: A Journal of Chicana/Latina Studies (with B.M. Pesquera) (1998) “What is Needed? More Interdisciplinary Work Drawing on the Humanities,” in ed. Refugio Rochin, Immigration and Ethnic Communities: A Focus on Latinos (1996) "Chicana Feminisms: Their Political Context and Contemporary Expressions," in ed. Jo Freeman, Women, A Feminist Perspective (with Pesquera, B.M.) (1995). Reprinted in eds. Antonia Darder and Rodolfo D. Torres, The Latino Studies Reader (1998) "With Quill and Torch: A Chicana Perspective on the American Women's Movement and Feminist Theories," in eds. David Maciel and Isidro Ortiz, Chicanos/Chicanas at the Crossroads (with Pesquera, B.M.) (1995). Reprinted as "A Chicana Perspective on Feminism," in eds. Richard Delgado and Jean Stefanic, The Latino Condition: A Critical Reader (1998) "Chicanas in White Collar Occupations: Work and the Gendered Construction of Race-Ethnicity," in eds. Gay Young and Bette Dickerson, Color, Class, and Country: Experiences of Gender (1994) "Inside the Work Worlds of Chicana and Mexican Immigrant Women," in ed. Maxine Baca Zinn, and Bonnie Thornton Dill, Women of Color in American Society (1994). Reprinted in Karen V. Hansen and Anita Ilta Garey, Families in the U.S., Kinship and Domestic Politics (1998) 404 "Working at Motherhood: Chicana and Mexican Immigrant Mothers and Employment," in eds. Evelyn Nakano Glenn, Grace Change, and Linda Rennie Forcey, Mothering: Ideology, Experience, and Agency (1994). Reprinted in eds. Laurel Richardson, Verta Taylor and Nancy Whittier, Feminist Frontiers IV (1997) "Chicana/o Family Structure and Gender Personality: Chodorow, Familism, and Psychoanalytic Sociology Revisited," in SIGNS, Journal of Women in Culture and Society (with Pierce, J.L.) (1993). Reprinted in Karen V. Hansen and Anita Ilta Garey, Families in the U.S., Kinship and Domestic Politics (1998). Reprinted in ed. E. Schroeder, Taking Sides: Family and Personal Relationships (2002) "Slipping Through the Cracks: Dilemmas in Chicana Education," in eds. Adela De la Torre and Beatriz M. Pesquera, Building With Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Scholarship (1993) "'There is no going back': Chicanas and Feminism," in Chicana Critical Issues, Series in Chicana/Latina Studies (with Pesquera, B.M.) (1993). Reprinted in ed. Alma M. Garcia, Chicana Feminist Thought, the Basic Historical Writings (1997) "Chicanas in White Collar Jobs: ‘You have to prove yourself more’" in Sociological Perspectives (1992). Reprinted in eds. Louise Lamphere, Helena Ragoni ́ and Patricia Zavella, Situated Lives, Gender and Culture in Everyday Life (1997). Reprinted in eds. Christopher G. Ellison and W. Allen Martin, Race and Ethnic Relations in the United States: Readings for the 21st Century (1998). Reprinted in ed. Nijole V. Benokraitis, Contemporary Ethnic Families in the United States (2001) "Beyond Indifference and Antipathy: The Chicana Movement and Chicana Feminist Discourse," in Aztla ́n, A Journal of Chicano Studies (with Pesquera, B.M.) (1992). Reprinted in eds. Chon Noriega, et al., The Chicano Studies Reader: An Anthology of Aztlan, 1970-2000 (2001) "Walking on Eggshells: Chicanas in the Labor Force," in eds. Stephen Knouse, Paul Rosenfeld, and Amy Culbertson, Hispanics in the Workplace (1992) 405 "Ambivalence or Continuity: Motherhood and Employment Among Chicanas and Mexican Immigrant Women," in Aztla ́n, A Journal of Chicano Studies (1991) "Chicanas y mexicanas en el mundo laboral: barreras para el empleo y la movilidad social," in eds. Maria Jesu ́s Buxo ́ Rey and Tomas Calvo Buezas, Culturas hispanas en los Estados Unidos (1990) "Chicana and Mexican Immigrant Women at Work: The Impact of Class, Race, and Gender on Occupational Mobility," Gender and Society (1989). Reprinted in eds. Esther Ngan-Ling Chow, Doris Wilkinson and Maxine Baca Zinn, Race, Class, and Gender: Common Bonds, Different Voices (1996) "The Social Context of Chicana Women's Role in Their Children's Schooling," in Educational Foundations Journal (with Delgado- Gaitan, C.) (1989) "Conflict in Social Relations at Work: A Chicana Perspective," in eds. Romero, M. and C. Candelaria, Estudios Chicanos and the Politics of Community (1989) "The Interplay of Familism and Patriarchy on the Employment of Chicana and Mexican Immigrant Women," in the Renato Rosaldo Lecture Series Monograph (University of Arizona) (1989). "Familism and Employment Among Chicanas and Mexican Immigrant Women," in ed. Margarita B. Melville, Mexicanas at Work in the United States (1988) "Labor Market Stratification: The Chicana Experience," in Berkeley Journal of Sociology (1984). Reprinted in ed. Ronald Takaki, From Different Shores Perspectives on Race and Ethnicity in America (1987) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Chicanas and Triple Oppression in the Labor Force" Reprinted in ed. Mario T. Garcia, Bridging Cultures, An Introduction to Chicano/Latino Studies (2000) 406 Christine M. Sierra Currently Professor, Department of Political Science, University of New Mexico “2009 APSA Teaching and Learning Conference Track Summaries: Graduate Education and Professional Development,” in PS: Political Science & Politics (with Jocelyn Jones Evans and Clodagh Harris) (2009) “The Voting Rights Act and the Election of Nonwhite Officials," in PS: Political Science & Politics (with Pei-te Lien, Dianne Pinderhughes, and Carol Hardy-Fanta) (2007) "Gender, Race and Descriptive Representation in the United States: Findings from the Gender and Multicultural Leadership Project," in Intersectionality and Politics: Recent Research on Gender, Race, and Political Representation in the United States, ed. Carol Hardy-Fanta (with Carol Hardy-Fanta, Pei-te Lien, and Dianne M. Pinderhughes) (2006) "Gender, Race and Descriptive Representation in the United States: Findings from the Gender and Multicultural Leadership Project," in Journal of Women, Politics & Policy (with Carol Hardy-Fanta, Pei-te Lien, and Dianne Pinderhughes) (2006) “New Mexico Hispanos in the 2000 General Elections,” in Muted Voices: Latinos and the 2000 Elections, eds. Rodolfo O. de la Garza and Louis DeSipio (with F. Chris Garcia) (2005) "Hispanics and the Political Process," in Hispanics in the United States: An Agenda for the Twenty-First Century, eds. Pastora San Juan Cafferty and David W. Engstrom (2000) “Latino Immigration and Citizenship,” in PS: Political Science & Politics (with Teresa Carrillo, Louis DeSipio, and Michael Jones-Correa) (2000) "In Search of National Power: Chicanos Working the System on Immigration Reform, 1976-1986," in Chicano Politics and Society in the Late Twentieth Century, ed. David Montejano (1999) "Political Participation in American Politics: A Critique," in An Election Year Primer, ed. Dean Harris (1996) "Chicanas as Political Actors: Rare Literature, Complex Practice," in The National Political Science Review (with Adaljiza Sosa-Riddell) (1994) 407 Chicana Critical Issues (Co-editor, with Norma Alarco ́n, Margarita Melville, Emma Pe ́rez, Tey Diana Rebolledo, and Adaljiza Sosa- Riddell) (1993) "Chicano Political Development: Historical Considerations," in Chicano Studies: A Multidisciplinary Approach, eds. Eugene Garcia, Francisco Lomeli, and Isidro Ortiz, eds. (1984). Reprinted in Beyond 1848: Readings in the Modern Chicano Historical Experience, ed. Michael R. Ornelas (1993) "Hispanos and the 1988 General Election in New Mexico," in From Rhetoric to Reality: Latino Politics in the 1988 Elections, eds. Rodolfo O. de la Garza and Louis De Sipio (1992) "The Politics of Women and Ethnic Minorities," in Politics and Public Policy in the Contemporary American West, ed. Clive Thomas (with F. Chris García and Margaret M. Murdock) (1991) "Latino Organizational Strategies on Immigration Reform: Success and Limits in Public Policymaking," in Latinos and Political Coalitions: Political Empowerment for the 1990s, eds. Roberto E. Villarreal and Norma G. Herna ́ndez (1991) "Mexicans in the United States: History, Evolution, and Transformation," in Latin American Research Review (1989) "Política Chicana despue ́s de 1984," in Al Norte de la Frontera: El Pueblo Chicano, eds. David R. Maciel and Jose ́ Guillermo Saavedra, eds. (1988) "Chicano Politics - After 1984," in Times of Challenge: Chicanas and Chicanos in American Society, eds. Juan R. García, Julia Curry Rodríguez, and Clara Lomas, eds. (1988) "Latinos and the 'New Immigration': Responses from the Mexican American Community," Renato Rosaldo Lecture Series Monograph (University of Arizona) (1987) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "The University Setting Reinforces Inequality" (co-editor) 408 Angelina F. Veyna The Forgotten Women of Santa Cruz de la Can ̃ada: Identity, Relationships, and Daily Life, 1694-1790 (1993) School Dropouts in Orange County: Focus on Hispanic Students (1987) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) "Women in Early New Mexico: A Preliminary View" Emilio Zamora Mexican Americans in Texas History (Co-editor, with Cynthia Orozco and Rodolfo Rocha (2000) "Introduction," in eds. Emilio Zamora, Cynthia Orozco, and Rodolfo Rocha, Mexican Americans in Texas History (2000) "Mutualist and Mexicanist Expressions of a Mexican Political Culture in Texas," in eds. Zamora, Orozco, and Rocha, Mexican Americans in Texas History (2000) "Jose de La Luz Saenz, 1888-1951," in El Mesten ̃o (2000) "Labor Formation, Identity, and Self-Organization, The Mexican Working Class in Texas, 1900-1945," in ed. John Mason Hart, Border Crossings: Mexican and Mexican-American Workers (1998) The World of the Mexican Worker in Texas (1993) Chicano Discourse: Selected Conference Proceedings of the National Association for Chicano Studies (Co-editor) (1992) "The Failed Promise of Wartime Opportunity for Mexicans in the Texas Oil Industry," in Southwestern Historical Quarterly (1992) "A Tribute to Emma Tenayuca and Manuela Soli ́s Sager," in ed. Adelaida R. del Castillo, Between Borders; Essays on Mexicana- Chicana History (with Roberto Caldero ́n) (1989) El Movimiento Obrero Mexicano en el Sur de Texas, 1900-1920 (1986) Chicana Voices: Intersections of Class, Race, and Gender (1986) “Manuela Soli!s Sager and Emma B. Tenayuca: A Tribute.” (with Roberto Caldero!n) "Notes on the Second Edition of Occupied America," In ed. Tatcho Mindiola, Jr., Occupied America: A Chicano History Symposium (1981) 409 "Sara Estela Ramirez: Una Rosa Roja en el Movimiento," in eds. Magdalena Mora and Adelaida R. del Castillo, Mexican Women in the United States: Struggles Past and Present (1980) "Sindicalismo Socialista de los Chicanos en Texas, 1900-1920," in eds. Luis Arroyo and Juan Go ́mez-Quin ̃ones, Orígenes del Movimiento Obrero Chicano (1978) "Las Escuelitas: A Texas-Mexican Search for Educational Excellence," in published proceedings of the South Texas Head Start Bilingual- Bicultural Conference (1978) "Chicano Socialist Labor Activity in Texas, 1900-1920," in Aztla ́n: Chicano Journal of the Social Sciences and the Arts (1975) 410 Appendix C Annotated Bibliography: Chicana Feminism in This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color 452 Alarcón, Norma. “Chicana’s Feminist Literature: A Revision Through Malintzin / or Malintzin: Putting Flesh Back on the Object.” This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Alarcón explores the traditional use of the image of Malintzin (Malinche, Marina, Dona Maria) in Chicano culture as she is figured in re-enactments and re-tellings of the conquest. The revision of her from this classic “whore” imagery becomes central then to “toppling” patriarchal assumptions. She discusses how this is being done by feminist re-claiming of Malintzin by current Chicana writers. This may be read as engaging earlier Chicana feminists' anxieties over being seen as traitors to the larger Chicano movement by discussing feminism. In many ways, this essay is the most reflexive with regard to earlier Chicana writings. 452 Hereafter the anthology is referred to as Bridge. 411 Anzaldúa, Gloria and Cherríe Moraga. “Introduction.” This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Explains that the book began as a reaction against the racism of white feminists but became a “positive affirmation of the commitment of women of color to our own feminism.” The title “radical” was intended to reflect their commitment to a female revolution. The book was divided into six sections to reflect the major areas of concern within the women’s movement. 1. How visibility and invisibility informs the radicalism of women of color. (Moraga’s essay, “La Güera”.) 2. Ways which women of color derive feminist political theory specifically from racial or cultural nationalism (expressed by Moraga’s poem “For the Color of My Mother”). 3. The destructive effects of racism in the women’s movement (no Chicana 453 contribution). 4. Cultural, class and sexual differences that divide women of color (no Chicana contributor). 5. Writing as a tool for self-preservation and revolution. (“Speaking in Tongues” - Anzaldúa, “Chicana Feminist Literature” - Alcarcón.) 6. Ways and means of a Third World feminist future. (“La Prieta” - Anzaldúa, poem “The Welder” - Moraga.) View of book as “radical tool” for people of color and for women’s studies class room. This marks turn toward the academy. 453 “Chicana” as opposed to “Latina” is the distinction drawn here. This presents some difficulty as Moraga and Anzaldúa use the term “Latina” in their text, however this project is concerned with issues specific to Chicana/o nationalism and feminism and therefore discussion of works by Cuban - American or Puerto Rican feminists would be misplaced. 412 Anzaldúa, Gloria. “La Prietra.” his Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Haunting autobiographic piece about Anzaldúa’s sense of herself as sexual “other” - queer in her biology. Her early menstruation and surgeries. Fear that in telling the story she is villainizing her mother, whom she views as a victim. She expresses in the essay not any internal sense of ambivalence, but of forced fragmentation by labeling, by the splits between the racial, sexual, and “queer” movements. ---. “Foreword to the Second Edition. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. In contrast to Moraga’s more practical analysis, Anzaldúa’s introduction expresses her desire for a turn in consciousness toward the mystical. The journey and struggle become inner rather than outer. She gives her history of involvement with Bridge, discusses the trouble with finding a publisher. Also relates what being “sister” to Black women means to her - she sees it as a title she’s “earned.” This sense of community is gained by the pains of meeting difference, not by passing over them. Moraga also “calls” the Anglo feminist movement on being “exclusive and reactionary.” She also writes about her own sense of becoming “darker” as she worked on the project and the sense of terror that engenders. Finally ends discussing her growth as she was able to express herself both as feminist and “Latina” at the same time -- through a sense of connection to other women of color and to her mother. 413 ---. “Speaking in Tongues: A Letter to Third World Women Writers.” This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Constructed as a letter to women of color writing. Anzaldúa connects women of color by pointing out that the stereotype for all is that they can’t write, and that it is their deconstruction of that stereotype by the very act of writing which results in much of the discrimination against them. Fear throughout it of the danger of being tokenized, of “selling-out.” There is an urgency about the finding of voice. Also encouragement to “forget a room of one’s own” and just write where ever one can. Moraga, Cherríe. “For the Color of My Mother.” This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. This is a troubling poem as it exists in this book. On the one hand the image of Moraga as “a white girl gone brown to the blood color of my mother” is one which has great power and resonance, the image of her, “speaking for her,” speaking for her mother is disturbing. In addition, the ending where she passes her mother to “dark women...sitting in circles” who then “cradle” her figure in silence, is problematic. There is a sense in which Moraga makes herself the voice of her (sub-alterned?) mother. 414 ---. “La Güera.” This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. In this essay, Moraga positions herself personally as “hybrid” - daughter of Anglo and Chicana. Autobiographic piece exploring the silence of being denied Spanish. This is connected to her silence about her sexuality. In connection to the women’s movement, Moraga discusses her own difficulties with homophobia, racism and classism, including the degree to which she has internalized these prejudices. Reveals and discusses her own anxiety about “passing” for color. The connection for Moraga, which is a personal one with her body as the site of contestation, makes the revolution and “joy” itself possible. ---. “Preface.” This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. The goal of Bridge, as expressed here, is growth in consciousness of the different experiences of women of color from those of Anglo. The book is “needed” by both the “left” and by the white feminist movement, which Moraga sees as becoming “bored.” ---. “Refugees of a World on Fire: Foreword to the Second Edition. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color eds. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press, 1981. Discusses the difficulty in accessing the change to readers and contributors that Bridge has wrought (this was written in 1983, after Bridge had already been published for two years. Moraga tries to quantify the understanding she has gained by her participating in and editing the edition. She writes that Bridge is a product of its time. Were it to be conceived of now she thinks it would: 415 • focus less on relationships with white women and feminism; • focus more on issues of an international feminism; • focus more on relationships with men of color (gay and heterosexual). She says that this focus was consciously on relationships “between and among” women - which the authors did as a conscious break with the trend of feminist texts by women of color to focus on the male/female. Moraga also expresses her frustration at the difficulty of getting works to reach audience within community. 416 Appendix D Annotated Bibliography: Histories of Chicana Feminism Alarcón, Norma. “The Theoretical Subject(s) of This Bridge Called My Back and Anglo-American Feminism.” Making Face, Making Soul: Haciendo Caras. San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1990. In this article, Alarcón discusses the use and misuse of Bridge. She observes with some dismay the tendency to deny difference even while teaching a text such as Bridge, seeing it as the desire to reinforce the notion of gender as a common denominator category. Attempts to examine what the negation of difference signals and why it is unlikely that Anglo-American feminists will assume the role of non-speaking subject she believes would be necessary in order for her to understand the position of women of color. Baca, Judith F. (Various Murals 1971 - 1985.) An interesting history of Chicana feminism may be read in the Los Angeles mural work of Judith Baca, perhaps reflecting on her depiction of la Chicana relative to her scenes of Chicano history and labor. Her “Great Wall” project in the East Los Angeles River wash, though sadly fast disappearing, contains an important history. The mural representations include (among other things): • depictions of women as witnesses to the Zoot Suit Riots; • foregrounded images of women as laborers and labor leaders (as opposed to putting the women in the background); 417 • A mural showing women rising up in rebellion over low sweatshop wages; • women of different ethnicities linked by a common pain and desire for light. Cabello-Argandoña, Roberto, et al. The Chicana: A Comprehensive Bibliographic Study. Los Angeles: UCLA Chicano Studies Center, 1975. This is a comprehensive annotated bibliography compiled as of 1975, offering a snapshot of Chicana publications up to that moment. The vast majority of the articles are ethnographic studies about the “Mexican-American Woman” as a category. The bibliography does, however, list the early writings of Chicana feminism as well as some film representations. Also interesting is the inclusion of clip art interruptions / decorations throughout the text. Córdova, Teresa. “Roots and Resistance: The Emergent Writings of Twenty Years of Chicana Feminist Struggle.” Handbook of Hispanic Culture in the United States: Sociology. Houston: Arte Público Press, 1994. Self-identified “overview” of the writings of Chicana feminism, which she views as part of a struggle “to break silence.” Relies heavily in places on Garcia’s 1989 work. Identifies oppressions / contradictions produced by Chicana feminist thought: • struggle with traditions: machismo, Catholicism, la familia; • exploitation by the movement; • feminist baiting. Issues articulated by early Chicana feminists were: welfare rights, childcare, health care, women’s health, birth control and abortion. Córdova makes clear connections between the poetry of the early Chicana feminists and the issues / essay writings of the same period. 418 Short analysis of impact / intervention of Bridge (191-192). This is an excellent article. One flaw is its tendency to conflate “Chicana” and “Chicana feminists” at a time many Chicanas explicitly denied that they were feminists. Cotera, Marta. “Our Feminist Heritage.” The Chicana Feminist. Austin Texas: Information System Development. 1977. • Suffrage granted then rescinded until 1959 (because men had feared the Catholic Church would gain too much control if women could vote). • History of Mexican-American feminism - suffrage, fighting alongside men in the Revolution (1910), Early 20th century suffragettes. • “Because of the human migration between borders, it is difficult to separate some of the developments of the Mexicanas from Chicana history.” • Mentions several socialist activists and organizations, including Liga Mexicanista Femenil (1920’s). • This article demonstrates both the need to articulate a Chicana feminism, and the desire that the feminism have roots outside those of “Anglo” feminism. Here there is an attempt to make feminism “homegrown” as it were. de la Torre, Adela and Beatríz M Pesquera. Building With Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. This text articulates a history of the development of Chicana Studies, setting up the negotiation between women’s studies and Chicano Studies departments as both disciplines struggle for space. It is an anthology of works centered around a variety of themes. This book is of more use in discussing the later history of Chicana feminism. It is organized into sections based on the following themes: 419 • Acts of Domination / Acts of Resistance - political and sexual subordination are the themes of the first section. Analyzes different manifestation of power relations. • Cultural Representations / Cultural Presentations - this section discusses a range of cultural issues, including the role of cultural myth in defining and perpetuating female roles and the accommodation and rebellion against those, and suggests alternate interpretations. • Contested Domains: Economy and Family - Examination of women’s labor (paid and unpaid) through a consideration of gender strategies in migration, health practices and the division of household labor. • Social Reproduction: Institutional and “Uninstitutional” Lives - Examines the tension between formal and informal institutional lives. Framed within a social reproduction model. There is, in section one, a significant essay concerning the development of Chicana voice. This essay, by Angie Chambram Dernersesian, “And Yes. . . The Earth Did Part: On the Splitting of Chicana/o Subjectivity,” traces the speaking Chicana subject through a number of political / poetic writings and drawings of the 1970’s and 80’s. Garcia, Alma M. “The Development of Chicana Feminist Discourse, 1970 - 1980.” Gender and Society. 3:2 (June 1989). 217- 238. Examines the period between 1970 and 1980 as a formative period in the development of Chicana feminist thought. Argues that “Chicana feminist consciousness emerged from a struggle with Chicano men and from a reassessment of the role of the family as a means of resistance to oppressive societal conditions”. (219) Garcia identifies three major ideological issues: • Relationship between Chicana feminism and the ideologies of cultural nationalism - the machismo debates (220-223). 420 • Relationship between Chicana feminist and white feminist movements (229-232). • Feminist baiting within the Chicano movement (224-228). I would add to this from information contained in her own article: the relationship between Chicana feminists and other feminists of color. Building community between and among feminists of color in the US seems an ideological concern from the movement’s very onset (220). ---. Introduction to Chicana Feminist Thought: The Basic Historical Writings. New York: Routledge. 1997. In giving an account of Chicanismo, Garcia argues that feminist consciousness arose within the Chicano movement (due to that movement’s sexist contradictions) from the very beginning (4-5). States that Chicana feminist thought from its earliest formation was concerned with the “interplay” between race / ethnicity and gender (6). Mentions the silencing of voices of Chicana lesbians. Identifies five core themes that she sees in the early writings: • Chicana feminism and the politics of the Chicano movement; • analyzing the dynamics of Chicana oppression; • mapping a Chicana feminist agenda; • the relationship between Chicana feminists and white feminists; • Chicana feminist as an evolving future. Again, the building of community between and among feminists of color within the United States is highlighted by this essay. The purpose of her study is the recognition that the roots of contemporary Chicana feminism lie within the “crucial” years of development of Chicana feminism. 421 González, Deena. "Speaking Secrets: Living Chicana Theory." Living Chicana Theory. Ed. Carla Trujillo. Berkeley: Third Woman Press. 1998. This is an essay about fracture within Chicana academics. González identifies a variety of sorts of fractures (tenure issues, disciplines, sexuality). One of the "secrets" González "speaks" is her claim that "Chicanos" (males) are as misogynist in the 1990's as they were in the 1960's when it comes to Chicanas who are "woman identified." This is a designation she creates to name those whose interests focus on women and feminism, including, but not exclusive to, Chicana lesbians. González's work highlights the need for dialogue between Chicano/as on issues of Chicana feminism and sexuality. Mirandé, Alfredo and Evangelina Enriquez. La Chicana: The Mexican- American Woman. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. 1979. Identifies and names three sources of “triple oppression:” • as a colonized people (Chicanos in United States society); • as women (gender in US society); • by “machismo” (as women within Chicano culture) (12-13). Discussion of myths of Chicana womanhood and myths of machismo, advantages for whites and Chicano men (115 - 117). Traces history of Chicana feminism to Aztec roots and to revolutionary Mexican history. Ends with examination of Chicana feminism in 1970’s: • Chicanas’ relationship to the larger Chicano movement (relationship of feminism to nationalism); • Chicanas’ relationship to white feminists; • Interrelationship of class, race and labor. Despite the text’s annoying tendency to begin each discussion with a return to Pre-Columbian history, this is a useful and significant text, 422 both for being one of the very earliest attempts at a comprehensive look at Chicana feminism, and for setting out the ideological debates as they were seen in the late 1970’s. Comment on Chicana lesbians is conspicuous by its absence. Pardo, Mary S. Mexican American Women Activists: Identity and Resistance in Two Los Angeles Communities. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1998. Pardo's study is a grass-roots history of individual Chicana activists in Los Angeles's Monterey Park and Boyle Heights communities. As a collection of stories of recent activism, Pardo's book offers important evidence of the continuity and development of issues by Chicana community activists. Some of the issues the women in Pardo's book focus on: • Neighborhood safety • Education • Welfare and immigrant rights were the same ones that Chicana activists from the 1970's had worked on. Pérez, Emma. The Decolonial Imaginary: Writing Chicanas into History. Bloomington: University of Indiana Press, 1999. This is a Chicana history that defies the boundaries of time and location to discuss the ways traditional historiography elides the history of Chicanas. This is a very rich text -- excellent across a variety of scopes. Among the points I found most useful was her discussion of the way early studies of Chicano history which discuss Chicana/os as "colonized" tend to be rejected, while at the same time the notion of Chicana/os as "post-colonial" is embraced. Her "decolonial imaginary" is a term she adopts in order to better discuss the moment between the colonial and post-colonial. 423 Sanchez, Rosaura. et al. Essays on La Mujer. Los Angeles: UCLA Chicano Studies Center Publications, 1977. Collection focuses on understanding Chicanas by examining the socio- economic forces at work in their lives. Developed out of a course offering at UCLA on la Chicana. One of the earliest texts written with a Chicana studies course in mind. Several contributors are not from traditional academic backgrounds. Segura, Denise A. and Beatriz M. Pesquera. “Beyond Indifference and Apathy: The Chicana Movement and Chicana Feminist Discourse.” Aztlan. 19:2 1992. Makes the argument that the articulations of Chicana feminists in higher education reveal the tension between Chicano cultural nationalism and feminism within the United States. Defines both Chicano cultural nationalism and American feminist ideologies. Positions Chicana feminism as slipping between the two dialectics. Via a survey of female MALCS members, the authors developed a typology of three descriptions of Chicana Feminism: • Chicana Liberal Feminism - centers on the conviction that Chicanas’ life chances can be improved by modifications to existent social structures. • Chicana Insurgent Feminism - vociferously critiques inequality by race/ethnicity, class, gender and sexual orientation, calls for sustained political struggle to restructure society. • Chicana Cultural Nationalist Feminism - believes that women’s interests must be expressed within a cultural maintenance framework. Survey is a bit small for results to be more than very speculative. However, this article is valuable because it discusses issues of ideology by looking at the links and fission between Chicano nationalism and United States feminism. Also significant because it 424 does not position Chicana feminism as in opposition, but rather builds on the notion of it as a bridge between the two.

Abstract (if available)

Abstract My dissertation researches American resistance movements, focusing on nineteenth-century Transcendentalism and the Chicano/a movements of the 1960s through 1990s. It is concerned specifically with the emergence of Chicano/a literature from the late nineteenth century through the twentieth century, especially Chicana authorship and editorship as part of a tradition of U.S. resistance literature.

Linked assets

University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Conceptually similar

PDF

“¡La unión hace la fuerza!” (unity creates strength!): M.E.Ch.A. and Chicana/o student actvism in California, 1967-1999

PDF

Domestic negotiations: Chicana domesticity as a critical discourse of US literature and culture

PDF

From Chicano therapy to globarriology: Chican@ popular culture and identity in late 20th and early 21st century Los Angeles

PDF

Solidarity, violence, and the political imagination: Chicana literary imaginings of the Central American civil wars, 1981-2005

PDF

"As shelters against the cold": women writers of the Black Arts and Chicano movements, 1965-1978

PDF

The other side of authenticity: authenticity, liberalism, and resistance

PDF

Contemporary GrotesQueries: the multifaceted Grotesque as an aesthetic and political strategy of resistance 1968-2008

PDF

Machos y malinchistas: Chicano/Latino gang narratives, masculinity, & affect

PDF

Nation in uniform: Chicano/Latino war narratives and the construction of nation in the Korean War and Vietnam War

PDF

“‘Porque sin madres no hay revolucion’: Mothering the revolution in contemporary Chicana/Latina literature and cultural production

PDF

Tracing a history: an exploration of contemporary Chicano art and artists

PDF

Radical crossings: from peasant rebellions to internationalist multiracial labor organizing among Japanese immigrant communities in Hawaii and California, 1885–1935

PDF

Pachucas, pachucos, and their culture: Mexican American youth culture of the Southwest, 1910-1955

PDF

Adjusting the bonds of love: parenting, expertise and social change in a Chinese city

PDF

American sexual culture: women's liberation, rock music, and evangelical Christianity, 1968-1976

PDF

Text with a view: turn of the century literature and the invention of the postcard

PDF

Racial ambivalence in literatures of the Americas: mixed-race subjects in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries

PDF

Cowboys of the waste land: modernism and the American frontier

PDF

Liberalizing belonging: race, service, and the making of the postindustrial San Fernando Valley

PDF

In the flesh: the representation of burlesque theatre in American art and visual culture

Asset Metadata

Creator Pérez, Annemarie (author)

Core Title Splitting Aztlán: American resistance and Chicana visions of a radical utopia

School College of Letters, Arts and Sciences

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program English

Publication Date 03/29/2011

Defense Date 03/15/2011

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag American Literature,Chicano Chicana literature,OAI-PMH Harvest

Place Name USA (countries)

Language English

Contributor Electronically uploaded by the author (provenance)

Advisor McKenna, Teresa (committee chair), Gambrell, Alice (committee member), Gustafson, Thomas B. (committee member), Sanchez, George J. (committee member)

Creator Email annemari@usc.edu,annie@northgare.net

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-m3708

Unique identifier UC1482283

Identifier etd-Perez-4490 (filename),usctheses-m40 (legacy collection record id),usctheses-c127-454873 (legacy record id),usctheses-m3708 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier etd-Perez-4490.pdf

Dmrecord 454873

Document Type Dissertation

Rights Pérez, Annemarie

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Repository Name Libraries, University of Southern California

Repository Location Los Angeles, California

Repository Email cisadmin@lib.usc.edu