We're Giving Away Free Copies of Amor and Exile—Jan 23 & 24th—Don't Miss It!

In case you still haven't read my book Amor and Exile: True Stories of Love Across America's Borders, coauthored with Nathaniel Hoffman, now is your chance! We will be giving away free copies of our Kindle version this Thursday and Friday, January 23rd and 24th. Just click here to download your free copy or gift a copy to a friend.

Why should you read Amor and Exile? There are so many reasons.

There are hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of U.S. citizens like myself who are separated from their families or forced into exile due to harsh U.S. immigration laws. Those people could be your family members, friends, neighbors, or coworkers—and you might never know it. Amor and Exile explains why families like ours are in this plight.

Immigrants play a huge role in American culture and the economy, but every year it gets harder for people to legally immigrate or adjust status in the U.S. Amor and Exile exposes the draconian immigration policies that have slowly been put in place over the last century, how misguided politicians are attempting to freeze demographics (remember that most of our ancestors once enjoyed relatively lax immigration laws), and how this is negatively affecting America today.

Congress will be debating immigration again in early 2014 and in order to get humane immigration reform passed, we will need informed citizens letting their elected representatives know where they stand. Amor and Exile helps demystify much of the hype behind immigration rhetoric.

And many others...

Let us know what *you* think about Amor and Exile after you've read it, visit our blog at http://amorandexile.com or like our Facebook page at http://facebook.com/amorandexile. No more excuses—check out Amor and Exile THIS WEEK, and SHARE widely with your friends! Thanks!

Wasp stings and Seguro Popular | Mexico vs. U.S. 1-0

Some family of mine visited for the first time this past week. As is apt to happen, when comparing the U.S. and Mexico, we got off on a spirited detour about the direction in which the U.S. government is headed.
I had remarked how ironic it was that the direction of the effect of current U.S. policies (slashing essential public programs, failing to support universal education, lining the pockets of the wealthy, etc.) are sending our country down a similar path as Mexico, where growth is occurring in some sectors, but because of the monopolies and corrupt bureacracies, a lot of the "progress" truly benefits only the rich, leaving the majority of the country stuck about 40 years in the past, maybe more.
My motivation in saying something like that was probably stemming from a sense of helplessness at only being able to watch what goes down in the U.S. from afar, also a fear that things I most cherished about my home country, like great free education, are at risk. 

But then something hit me—part of my imaginary equation was off, and not in the direction I'd anticipated. Just the day prior, I'd visited the Queretaro General Hospital ER for a large wasp sting that had gotten worse and infected. I was seen immediately, administered a shot to reduce the reaction, and sent home with medicine—all in under 1 hour's time, and all free, under the Seguro Popular federal medical care program.

I first enrolled in 2010, before my daughter was born. I'd been able to pay for private doctor's office visits out of pocket up until then, but was worried about potential accidents, my inability to afford private medical insurance, and wanted a sort of catastrophic family medical insurance. So far we've only used it for severe insect bites—Margo also got treated for one, last year, when he was stung by a scorpion. But it's a relief to think it's there when we need it.
Suddenly, on my imaginary scoreboard between the U.S. and Mexico federal benefits to my family, I was left staring at a big fat 1-0, with Mexico on the unexpected left hand side.
Inside, I felt outraged, shocked, even a little dismayed. How could it be that the glorious U.S. of A could be down on the count, and of all rivals, with Mexico? There had to be something I was missing.
I racked my brains for things the U.S. federal government had done for me (a direct benefit, not some sort of trickle-down benefit) and my inner conscience immediately felt lame doing so, especially after hearing the words of JFK, "ask not what your country can do for you," first inside my own head, and then from my uncle sitting next to me as he invoked the time of the Kennedys.
It was as if I had an inner anti-governmental critic meter and some alarm was getting sounded. Over the years my morality meter had driven me to do well in school, honor my family, work, pay taxes, volunteer, sit on boards of directors. It had allowed me to practice freedom of speech by being critical of government policies, an environmental activist, and even challenge the morality of current U.S. immigration policies. But somehow wondering what direct personal benefit I'd gotten with my U.S. membership card felt sacrilegious. What felt especially weird was having spent the last 7 years up in arms about not being able to go back home to the U.S. with my husband and daughter, as a complete family unit. It was a very weird feeling indeed.
But what was worse was not finding any answer to counter my suspicion, that the score was still 1-0. All I could think of was having to pay taxes since I started getting W-2s when I was 16 years old. The next thing I thought of was my $20,000 college scholarship through the National Science Scholars Program that had gotten revoked as a result of Newt Gingrich's contract with America the summer of 1995, leaving me with just under that amount of debt 3.5 years later after graduating.
The response to my question I posed to my family was disturbingly spare. After asking in earnest for the third time if I was being rash, if I was missing something, my uncle said, "Let it go already...you may just have to accept that things aren't really what you thought."
That seems to go without saying—this isn't the first time that the dual allegiance I've been obliged to forge in the throes of forced expatriation has caused me to question everything I've known to be true.
That part of me that still wants to see that scoreboard blowing up on the right hand side is not just juvenile fantasy, but self-preservation, in that restoring something from ruins is usually a lot harder than preventing something from falling apart in the first place. On the other hand, maybe a middle ground would be to allow something to grow and evolve. That's been my wish ever since it became clear to me at 12 years old that our country's oil-dependent economy would need to sprout new wings and let the dinosaurs go the way of oblivion. What saddens me as an adult is that the country I thought the most innovative and capable of progress—my own—still really has so far to go.

Musings on the Eve of Mexican Independence Day | Binational Family Conversations on Race and Identity

Tonight is the eve of Mexican Independence Day.
According to Wikipedia, "Mexico, in the second article of its Constitution, is defined as a "pluricultural" nation in recognition of the diverse ethnic groups that constitute it, and in which the indigenous peoples are the original foundation." 

So, like its sister country to the north, Mexico is a free state that shook off its European colonial monarchy, that also shares a vast diversity of native North American as well as Old World cultural heritage. But in my opinion, Mexico appear to differ from the U.S. in that a smaller percentage of its people seem to make a point of embracing their racial roots.
My observations are probably skewed by where I've lived previously in the U.S.—mostly in liberal urban areas, and now Mexico—in a region characterized by heavy colonial influence compared to states like Oaxaca or Chiapas where indigenous influence is stronger.
But either way, I’ve always noticed how differently people choose to identify themselves culturally or racially. I know that whole college courses and even degrees are dedicated to this type of topic, and I've had very little formal study of it. But as a dual citizen with two feet planted in both my birth country of the U.S. and my home country of Mexico, with a binational and bilingual daughter and a Mexican husband, these type of questions will never cease to pique my interest. 

A few days ago, my little family and I were listening to music while having lunch. My 2 year old daughter, sitting in her highchair, began bobbing her head to the rhythms of Jay-Z & Alicia Keys' Empire State of Mind.

My husband Margo asked her if she was from New York, and then answered for her "no, you're from Queretaro."

I said, "yeah, well, she's from NY through me—her mama's from NY!" We both laughed. 

As I went over to stir the nopales I was cooking, I thought about how there are millions of people who call themselves African American, even though they themselves aren't from Africa nor do they even have recent relatives from there, although their distant ancestors came from there many generations ago.

"Can you imagine if someone's great-great-great-great-grandparent was from Mexico, do you think they'd call themselves Mexican American?" I asked my husband.

To use myself as an example, my great-grandparents on my father's side are from Mexico, and I even became a naturalized Mexican citizen last year through marriage with my husband. But I haven't yet referred to myself as Mexican American.

Margo is a born and bred Queretano. "Yeah right...they'd probably call themselves something else," he said. 

"Probably white," I replied, "Or Hispanic," I ventured. 

I was thinking of my own "whiteness." After growing up of German and Mexican ancestry in a heavily Italian and Polish neighborhood in Upstate New York, most people assumed Salgado was Italian. On college applications, I checked off "other" and wrote in 3 different races—white/Caucasian, Hispanic, and Native American, to reflect my mixed European ancestry and the mixed mestizo ancestry. Mestizo refers to the indigenous Mexican Indian/Spanish blend that characterizes the great majority of Mexican people, but many people call Mexicans or other Latin Americans "Spanish." In fact, that's the definition of the regularly used term Hispanic. 

Why is that? Why do people choose to identify themselves with one ancestry over another? The answers should be fairly obvious, but there seem to be a lot of exceptions to the rule, depending on where you're from or where you grow up.

"Does that mean that most Mexican Americans have less pride in their heritage than most African Americans?" I asked my husband. I wasn't thinking of the Chicano pride movement back in the 70's, but modern Mexican Americans by definition (such as myself)—I'm not sure if the pride in cultural heritage extends as uniformly to 3rd or 4th generation individuals these days as it does with other minority groups.

"I think so," he said. "I think it's because we have a lot of discrimination in this culture. A lot of Mexicans are embarrassed to say they're indios (Indians or native peoples) because they've been prejudiced against them for so long. So people say they've got a Spanish grandfather, grandmother, etc."
Margo's family didn't exactly raise him to take pride in his Otomi roots, in fact they whipped him to get him to go to Catholic church every Sunday and kiss his godparents' hands. But somehow he saw past the religious zealotry to become more of a free-thinker as a teenager.

"I wonder if because of the civil rights movement in the U.S., people feel safer to show off their heritage," I mused. "If you have an indigenous grandfather or grandmother, you're likely to tell everyone about it, be proud of it."

And yet, in the next song, Lakota singer/songwriter John Trudell laments the isolation of native people of the United States. "Industrial reservations, tyranny stakes its claims. Blue Indians, emotional siege in civilized state....glory and gold lead a desperate chase. Blue Indian, melting pot, ruling classes, haves and have nots." It's from his album Blue Indians, and it's got a lot of good food for thought.

Today for our Independence Eve dinner, my husband made vegetable noodle soup and bean tacos while I worked on finishing a translation for a botanical garden in Sinaloa state. The document I was working on described historical figures in Mexican botany—from Mexican explorers to the Jesuits to Mexican female scientists and even a researcher from Arizona.
When I told my husband about what I was working on, he wondered aloud ¨You mean like conquistadores? The enslavers?"
"No..." I admonished him. "The people were just interested in plants." Safe assumption, right? Being a plant person myself...
Instead of heading out to the festivities downtown, we avoided the crowds and drunk drivers and went for a walk out in his father's cornfield. Back home, I made Mexican chocolate.
I can't claim to truly understand the reasons behind why we choose to embrace some parts of ourselves or why we wish to cast aside the others. But I am glad that I can ask these questions and explore them freely with my partner so we can at least come close to modeling honesty, respect, and pride for our ancestry with our daughter wherever possible—no matter how tangled or frayed our roots end up throughout our lives.

No Need for Insults

Becoming a mother has given me new perspective on what it means to give life.  On this first day of February, month of my birth, I reflect on the things in my life I owe gratitude to for my existence, namely my mother (thanks Mom!) and my father (thanks Dad!) but also all my ancestors that have come before me and the natural world that supports US ALL.

Mexico, of course, makes this list by being my home for the last four years...and by tempting me with her beauty, mystery, warm welcome, and paradoxes ever since I began traveling here many years ago.  As much as I complain about things that I dislike here, it would be a false statement to say these problems do not exist in any other country, and I don't want anyone to think I consider Mexico to be singular in its possession of environmental, social, or safety issues.  Nor do I want anyone to think that because I wish certain things in Mexico to improve, that I would EVER put her down wrongly.

I recently viewed 3 British fellows from Top Gear, apparently a BBC show, making fun of Mexicans for many things that are not even true, and I was deeply insulted by their aggression & ignorance.  In light of this blatant racism, I felt like responding.  But I can't really defend Mexico technically until I am a citizen, which, incidentally, is in the works!  But I'd wager I have a little more insight than the average American- as do most expats residing here.

The speakers (if you can call them that) refer to outdated stereotypes about Mexican work ethic, cars, clothing, food.  I will respond one by one, not so much because I want to talk to a-holes like these, and especially not because I have friends like them who need to hear it, but in case you, the reader, happen to have family members, friends, or acquaintances in need of cultural education and want some things to say.  Also to remind you to be careful & not let these stereotypes get perpetuated.   I don't have time to back up all my comments with statistics, maybe later. 

Work ethic. They insinuate that Mexicans are lazy: I've never seen anyone so hard working as the Mexicans in my husband's family, himself-who never wants to ask for help, my father-in-law, who at 74 can outrun any of his nieces and nephews and who's never taken a day off in his life except when he got prostate surgery, and my mother-in-law, who carried and bore 14 children continues to, after a debilitating stroke, caretake anyone who crosses her path in any given day.  The list goes on.  People who hold down three jobs before considering crossing the northern border.  10% of Mexicans emigrate to the U.S. to put food on their families' table.  That means giving up the warmth of your home and moving thousands of miles away to work.  If that isn't hardworking, I don't know what is.  Just ask any of the employers hiring Mexicans up in the U.S. that make up the backbone of the backbreaking economy.

Cars.  Similar to work ethic, maybe if they weren't busy BUILDING so many foreign-brand cars in Mexican factories, they'd have more time to develop their own brands. But who cares?

Clothing.  They make reference to a sarape and sombrero. Come on guys- this isn't the 20's, get a clue.  Most Mexicans I know are obsessed about fashion unless they are farmers, and I can't keep up with them.

Food. Tomatoes, guavas, avocados, papayas, vanilla, CHOCOLATE, CORN, peanuts, amaranth, and many more native food plants. Chiles en Nogada. Chipotles. Nopales.  Chilaquiles. Huitlacoche. Pollo en Mole. Enchiladas. Sopes. Tortillas. Gorditas. Carnitas.  Y mucho mas platillos ricos.  All from Mexico! Need I say more?

So, thank you Mexico, for all your good points.  And when I'm complaining about things that I wish were different here, I'll be extra careful to make sure I don't hurt your feelings in the meantime.  because there's no need for put-downs.