At hilaritas, Heriberto Yépez reprints a recent article he wrote for the newspaper Reforma in Mexico City about the U.S.-Mexico border during the last decade. Very interesting discussion of the Americanization of the border and the Chicano-ization of Mexicans.

Making me think about what has always been a central element of my life, deracination. For many Latinos in the U.S. (whether we were born here or elsewhere) life is a slow bleed, a continual loss of _______________. How many Latin Americans have I encountered in academic settings who dismiss the Chicano and the U.S. Latino as pariahs, as incapable of creating culture? (A= Many) Of course, plenty of U.S. Latino literature is easily dismissable. And yet.

I am not a Chicano but I am. Writing in languages that do not "belong" to me. Impure, misspelled, we pochos are maybe ghosts from the future sent to frighten Latin Americans.

What is undeniable is the sheer destructive force of the United States as an unprecedented empire, as it makes its way through the Americas, Africa, Asia, and the Arab world. And we colonial children, here inside the U.S., have been recolonized countless times. Part of my desire for writing and reading is that it allows me a space for travel, where I can organize my scattered ancestries. With no illusion of ever being completely "Venezuelan," "American," "Venezuelan-American," "Latino," etc. Thinking and living in pieces.

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