Five Questions with Mary Whisenhunt and Patricia Gilman

August 19, 2025

Mimbres Far from the Heartland: Identity at the Powers Ranch Site of East-Central Arizona offers a unique investigation into the complexities of Mimbres identity and social dynamics beyond the traditional Mimbres Valley heartland. Situated at the western edge of the Mimbres region, the Powers Ranch site is a professionally excavated Classic period settlement in Arizona’s Gila River Valley. Through excavation and analysis of architecture and a rich array of artifacts, including ceramic sherds, projectile points, and shell artifacts, authors Mary E. Whisenhunt and Patricia A. Gilman provide a detailed look at the lives of Mimbres people on the periphery.

Today, the authors answer five questions about their work.

What inspired you to write this book?

Gilman: I was interested in the Powers Ranch site because it would help me address one of my research interests—what were the lives of Mimbres people like beyond the Mimbres Valley heartland? It was becoming more apparent to us Mimbres archaeologists that things were different outside the Mimbres Valley, but how and why? Powers Ranch, being located 119 kilometers west of the valley, would help me consider these questions. Although parts of the site were excavated in 1983, the materials were never analyzed, and the excavation was never written up. My students at the University of Oklahoma and I analyzed the ceramics and the projectile points, and so I had a bit of an obligation to write up the site.

Whisenhunt: I was thrilled when Pat asked me to co-author this publication! The Powers Ranch site lies about 5 kilometers north of the area where I did my 2020 dissertation research on precontact settlement patterns in the Gila River Valley between Duncan and York, Arizona. We first visited the site in 2016 and were fascinated by it. Almost all the Classic sites on or near the Gila River in Arizona are on private property, and all have been looted. We’re extraordinarily blessed that the Powers family allowed us access to the property and supported the early investigations on which the book is based. Only one other Mimbres Classic site besides Powers Ranch has been professionally excavated in Arizona’s Gila River Valley, so the data from the Powers Ranch site really filled in a lot of the gaps in our knowledge.

What do you mean when you talk about an “edge community” in archaeology?

Gilman and Whisenhunt: Archaeologists tend to emphasize “core areas” or cultural heartlands where distributions and types of material culture, site layouts, burials, and architecture are strongly patterned. Research focused on the edge communities or regions at the boundaries of these archaeological core areas offers insights into the creation and manipulation of social identity and cultural change. Based on site organization, ceramic types and distributions, and architecture, the Powers Ranch site and several other Mimbres Classic settlements in the Gila River Valley in south-central Arizona represent edge communities of the greater Mimbres cultural region in New Mexico.

What are examples of ceramic items found at the Powers Ranch site in Arizona that helped you connect this site to Mimbres sites in New Mexico?

Gilman and Whisenhunt: We analyzed pottery distributions and designs to determine whether and how those who lived at the Powers Ranch site were affiliated with Mimbres people in the heartland. To represent a Mimbres connection, the painted ceramics in the Classic (CE 1000-1130) parts of the site would have been dominated by Mimbres Classic Black-on-white pottery. We found there were higher proportions of Mimbres pottery at the site than any other kind of painted ceramics, supporting the idea that people living there in the Classic period were affiliated with others in the core Mimbres area. We also found that Classic painted pottery designs at the Powers Ranch site were generally like those in the New Mexico heartland, although there were significant differences in certain design elements. For example, the core area had much higher ratios of pots with figurative designs than those in Arizona’s Gila Valley, and some of the geometric design elements were different. Those differences suggest the Powers Ranch site and the other occupations on the Gila River represent a distinct Western Mimbres identity, but one still affiliated with the Mimbres heartland.

What do you hope readers and researchers take away from this work?

Gilman: I hope that researchers and others interested in Mimbres archaeology will see that people can be fully Mimbres, even though they lived beyond the Mimbres Valley heartland. Their lives were different in that they either chose not to participate in the religion/cosmology that involved the Hero Twins and scarlet macaws, or they were not allowed to participate.

I also hope that readers will see that it is possible to gain insights from analyzing materials that were excavated long ago using different methods than we use today. Publication makes appropriate data available to everyone for thinking about life and lives in the past.

Whisenhunt: I think we know quite a bit about very large Mimbres sites in the core Mimbres area, so I hope this book will be of interest to those who seek to understand Mimbres community life on a smaller scale. And of course, how they were similar or different than others who lived in the Mimbres Valley heartland, and whether the site layout and material culture mirror those further downriver in the Gila River Valley. Like Pat, I hope readers, including other archaeologists, will see the value in analyzing data from sites excavated in the more distant past. My current project focuses on something similar—examining data derived from a Works Progress Administration archaeological excavation from the 1930s.

What is your next project?

Gilman: I am working on three projects right now. My co-authors and I have almost completed a monograph on West Baker, another Mimbres site far beyond the Mimbres Valley that was excavated in 1964 but never analyzed or written up. This site has a water shrine—a pit with layers of turquoise, shell, and other artifacts—a unique feature in Mimbres archaeology.

Other co-authors and I are also working on a monograph for Mogollon Village, a Pit Structure period site (CE 200-1000) in west-central New Mexico. Emil Haury defined the Mogollon Tradition in part using material from his 1933 excavation there, and we are incorporating unpublished data from his work as well as more recent excavations that we did. Mogollon Village is particularly interesting because it appears that one or just a few families lived on the site relatively continuously for several hundred years.

My third project, again with other co-authors, is investigating the presence of scarlet macaws, birds of the tropical rain forests, on southwestern archaeological sites from about CE 950-1400. We suggest that ancient people raised these birds locally and perhaps even bred them, an interpretation far different from the traditional one of trade in these birds from Mesoamerica.

Whisenhunt: I’m working with two co-authors on a book about the Morhiss mortuary site in south Texas. Dating back more than 7,000 years, and with more than 250 recorded burials, it’s one of the largest and oldest hunter-gatherer cemeteries in the U.S. The Works Progress Administration fully excavated it back in the 1930s. Using data derived from original excavation records, radiocarbon dating, stable isotope analysis, and diagnostic lithic material, we’re exploring the evolution of precontact hunter-gatherer dietary and mobility patterns in response to population and environmental pressures.


Mary E. Whisenhunt has conducted archaeological research in the U.S. Southwest since 2014 and has worked at the Center for Archaeological Research at the University of Texas at San Antonio (UTSA) since 2020 and at Statistical Research Inc. (SRI) in Tucson since late 2024. Patricia A. Gilman has done archaeological research in the Mimbres region of New Mexico and Arizona for more than fifty years. One of her research interests is the role of small Mimbres Classic sites beyond the Mimbres Valley.

Leigh McDonald on the New Cover of “Encantado”

August 5, 2025

Today, University of Arizona Press Art Director, Leigh McDonald, shares a behind-the-scenes look at the process of designing a new cover for the paperback edition of Pat Mora’s Encantado, the poetic monologues of an imagined southwestern town.

First published in 2018, each poem forms a story that reveals the complex and emotional journeys we take through life. Mora meanders through the thoughts of Encantado’s residents—the mothers and sisters, brothers and fathers in whom we see slivers of ourselves and our loved ones—and paints a portrait of a community through its inhabitants’ own diverse voices. Even the river has a voice we understand. Inspired by both the real and imagined stories around her, Mora transports us to the heart of what it means to join in a chorus of voices. A community. A town. Encantado.

Can you tell us about the artwork you chose for the paperback edition of Encantado?

This cover was a particular challenge because Encantado is a fictional place, but one based firmly in the humanity, emotions, and landscape of real Southwestern towns. Most of the artwork I found that had the right feeling for the book also had something else about it that was too specific to fit—a recognizable real-world location, or a person or setting that was too at odds with the descriptions in the book. When I came across Ed Sandoval’s work, I knew I had finally struck gold. His warm, colorful paintings of quiet moments in a remembered New Mexico evoked the sense of place and the people of Encantado perfectly; through a different medium, they tell a similar story.

Are there certain themes, tones, or other connections to the poems that you see reflected in the new cover? 

The river in Encantado is not just a beautiful piece of landscape, but actually a figure with its own voice and place in the journey—it was a key feature to include in the landscape of the cover image. We also knew from the beginning that we wanted artwork with people and buildings in it, because at its heart, that’s what the book is about: the human experience, in community.

Were there other directions or artworks you were considering?

The hardcover edition of Encantado was designed as a beautiful abstraction that would feel like a small, precious gift of a book. We knew for the paperback that we wanted to go in a new direction, one that reflected the content and tone of Pat’s work more directly, so I immediately began looking for representational art. Ed’s work was, however, the only existing artwork I found that I felt was right for this edition. It really stood out as a match head and shoulders above everything else I considered.

Are there any special considerations for redesigning covers? Were there author requests? Constraints?

Redesigning covers for a paperback is different from designing for frontlist titles because there is an existing cover you want the new book to be in conversation with, and yet also distinct from. It’s an opportunity to reimagine how the cover can reflect the work, but also an additional challenge. The time and resources for design are also typically more limited at this stage, but I really wanted to make sure that Pat felt the artwork I chose reflected Encantado as she had envisioned it. Fortunately, both she and her daughter were thrilled at the choice.

What is something you love about this cover?

One of my favorite unexpected moments in cover design is when I am able to link an artist and author who really appreciate and want to support each other’s work. Ed was absolutely fantastic to work with, and graciously offered to donate the use of the piece in support of a fellow New Mexican artist. Similarly, Pat and her daughter were delighted to learn about him and his beautiful work and so thankful to make the connection. There is something special about bringing wonderful, creative people together!


Pat Mora is an author, speaker, educator, and literacy advocate. She has written more than forty-five books for adults, teens, and children. The recipient of two honorary doctorates and a poetry fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts, she lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Melani Martinez Featured in Arizona Highways

May 1, 2025

Arizona Highways May 2025 issue includes an interview with Melani Martinez about El Rapido, her family’s eatery that is the focus of her book The Molino: A Memoir. The article includes family photos from Martinez’s personal collection.

In the article, Martinez explained her writing process: “When I first started recording the stories of my family, I had a feeling of: Why aren’t these stories in the world? But, really, there wasn’t an absence of stories. Borderland stories have been here for a long time, and they will continue to be around. Many of us near the border or in the families of people who are from these places, we’ve heard them and we’ll continue to hear them.”

Read the full article in Arizona Highways.


About the book:

Set in one of Tucson’s first tamal and tortilla factories, The Molino is a hybrid memoir that reckons with one family’s loss of home, food, and faith.

Weaving together history, culture, and Mexican food traditions, Melani Martinez shares the story of her family’s life and work in the heart of their downtown eatery, El Rapido. Opened by Martinez’s great-grandfather, Aurelio Perez, in 1933, El Rapido served tamales and burritos to residents and visitors to Tucson’s historic Barrio Presidio for nearly seventy years. For the family, the factory that bound them together was known for the giant corn grinder churning behind the scenes—the molino. With clear eyes and warm humor, Martinez documents the work required to prepare food for others, and explores the heartbreaking aftermath of gentrification that forces the multigenerational family business to close its doors.

Enrique Ochoa on New Books Network Podcast

April 24, 2025

Enrique C. Ochoa spoke with New Books Network podcast host Miranda Melcher from Kings College, London, on how Mexico’s corporations shaped global demand for Mexican foods, while twenty-five percent of Mexicans lived in poverty, without access to nutritious foods. Ochoa is the author of México Between Feast and Famine: Food, Corporate Power, and Inequality.

When asked about how he started writing this book, Ochoa said, “I started exploring the contradictions in the 1980s and 1990s, where Mexico on the one hand begins to have a booming capitalist food sector that dominated markets globally, for example Bimbo bread, the leading packaged bread producer in the world at this point. And by 2020, there were Forbes Magazine millionaires from Mexico’s corporate food sector. But at the same time, Mexico’s poverty rates and lack of access to food in Mexico continued to hover at about a fourth of the population. So we had a global food boom, and global corporate chefs talking about Mexican food and how wonderful it is on the one hand, but at the same time we had all these people with lack of access to nutritious food in Mexico. They suffered from the twin scourge of malnutrition and the modern junk food diet.”

Listen to the full podcast here.

***

About the book:

México Between Feast and Famine provides one of the first comprehensive analyses of Mexico’s food systems and how they reflect the contradictions and inequalities at the heart of Mexico. Ochoa examines the historical roots and contemporary manifestations of neoliberal policies that have reshaped food production, distribution, and consumption in Mexico. Ochoa analyzes the histories of Mexico’s mega food companies, including GRUMA, Bimbo, Oxxo, Aurrera/Walmex, and reveals how corporations have captured the food system at the same time that diet-related diseases have soared. The author not only examines the economic and political dimensions of food production but also interrogates the social and cultural impacts.

Five Questions with Margaret Cantú-Sánchez

April 15, 2025

In her groundbreaking book, Empowering Latina Narratives, author Margaret Cantú-Sánchez examines the nuanced experiences of Latinas/Chicanas within the U.S. educational system. Cantú-Sánchez not only identifies the challenges Latina/Chicana students face but also offers a roadmap for overcoming them, making this book an essential resource for scholars, educators, and students committed to culturally inclusive education.

We recently had a chance to interview the author and ask her about the book.

How did your research and/or personal experience lead you to write this book?

My research is entrenched in my personal experiences, and this is especially true for this text. I often tell the story of how I came to this kind of research and I mention it in my introduction. When I was in graduate school, working on my doctorate at UTSA, I came across an author/scholar by the name of Gloria E. Anzaldúa. We read a book called Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza. I was shocked to read this book because the author was from the Rio Grande Valley, she was talking about Mexican American history, literature, culture and a lot of what she was discussing I was not familiar with. Yet I related to her experiences of being a Mexican American. What spoke to me was her education experience in which she describes encountering discrimination as a Mexican American girl growing up in Texas. I felt angry, curious, and inspired. I was angry because I had never heard of this author or book, even though my family comes from the Rio Grande Valley area. I was angry for students who would never read her book because it was not taught in schools, or at least not until graduate school. I was also curious to learn more about my own culture, and I was inspired to explore this idea of how Mexican American and other Latinx students learned to navigate discrimination in school. So, Borderlands was literally the catalyst that inspired me to look at literature, testimonios, and pedagogical practices where Mexican American and Latinx students encountered discrimination in schools, but found way to resist and strategize to navigate these systems of learning through the power of storytelling.

Your title sets up the conflict between “education” and “educación.” Can you describe what this conflict looks like for students today?

Today I believe this conflict between education and educación still persists now more than ever and has even become exacerbated given the current political situation in our country. I distinguish between the two terms by referring to “education” as this institutionalized learning we are taught in United States schools, which is primarily Anglocentric and designed to assimilate minority students. In contrast, I define “educación” as the home or cultural knowledge, the consejos (advice), cuentos (stories), and other elements we learn from our families, communities, and cultures. I argue that oftentimes, these two kinds of epistemologies may conflict with one another. For example, at home, we may sit around the kitchen table or help prepare food and while we are doing that our grandmothers, aunts, and other family members will be sharing advice, gossiping, telling family stories. This is valuable knowledge that we pick up from these moments with our cultures and families. Oftentimes at school the sharing of these stories or advice in those spaces is not welcome or teachers do not give students the space to bring in the stories of our families. This can also extend to language barriers: school is seen as an English-only space, versus home, where one can speak Spanish or whatever home language dominates that space. Many students talk about this idea of not being able to speak in Spanish to friends when they are working on group projects and some even talk about being discriminated against or disciplined if they try to do so. In short, this conflict persists when we continue to marginalize Latinx students’ prior knowledge, which includes cultural ways of knowing, their stories, literature, history, etc. This can create identity conflicts for students who just want their cultures, identities, and communities to be validated at home and at school.

In Chapter 3, you apply your theory of a “mestizaje of epistemologies” to Barbara Renaud González’s Golondrina, Why Did You Leave Me? For those who might not be familiar with this text, what is it about and how does it connect to your theory?

Golondrina, Why Did You Leave Me? is one of my favorite texts. I read it when I was working on my doctorate degree and the issues explored in the text highlight this education/educación conflict and my concept of a “mestizaje of epistemologies.” The book is about a mother and daughter and it’s about both of their stories. It begins with the mother’s story, Amada, who is a young girl from a working-class family in Mexico who is desperate to escape her life, so she marries the first man who asks. She experiences abuse and eventually runs away to the United States. In the U.S., Amada marries a Tejano and has many children, but the story then shifts to her daughter, Lucero. The story wavers between Amada and Lucero’s perspectives of living in the United States as they both try to navigate what it means to be Mexican and Mexican American women. When Lucero goes to school, she starts to experience a conflict of identity and loses a sense of belonging at home and school. At school, she tries hard and does well, but that means leaving behind things like her Spanish, and the other Mexican American children scorn her decision to assimilate. At the same time, this alienates her from her mother. Amada notices this distance that emerges between herself and her daughter and works to help Lucero maintain her cultural identity and pride in their family’s histories by sharing family stories throughout the novel. Eventually, both women find ways to reconcile their past experiences and traumas through storytelling and sharing those stories with one another. I argue that this reconciliation or strategizing emerges via a mestizaje of epistemologies, where Lucero learns how to juggle being both Mexican and American and she does this by remembering her family’s stories and sharing them with the world.

It might be an understatement to say that the U.S. education system is in a moment of extreme change, with schools and educators experiencing heightened scrutiny and criticism. Do you have any advice for educators and/or students who are navigating this moment?

I often teach a course titled “Approaches to Teaching Multi-Ethnic Literature.” Admittedly, this course is getting more and more difficult to teach because realistically much of what I talk about in the course teachers cannot teach or discuss because of newly established laws especially in Texas. However, my advice for educators is to look for those glimmers of hope. They are out there, and we can look to the past for examples of how to find that hope as women of color and other minorities have done so throughout the years. The past can teach us so much about resilience and what we can overcome. I would also encourage both educators and students to use their voices to share their stories, whether that is through poetry, testimonios, speeches, social media, etc. Our stories are powerful and empowering—that is one thing they cannot take away from us no matter how hard they try. We will always remember, and we have a duty to preserve those stories and memories.

What are you working on next?

Currently, I am working on applying this idea of radical hope leading to love and joy as resistance, in particular as we see it via pedagogies, literature, and history. “Radical hope” was a concept utilized by women of color during the Third Wave of Feminism to maintain hope and use it to inspire others in the face of discrimination and opposition. Pedagogically speaking, I turn to scholars like bell hooks who ask us to look to joy and love in classroom spaces, and we can do that when we invite our students to share their stories as we examine the stories of minorities throughout literature and history. I think right now the world could use some hope, joy, and love. We need to find our way back to these things, and literature is one avenue to do that.


Margaret Cantú-Sánchez is a visiting assistant professor of English at St. Mary’s University, teaching composition and multi-ethnic and Latinx literature. Her research focuses on decolonializing pedagogies, immigration, border studies, and Chicanx feminist theories. Her publications include approaches to teaching Latinx literature, examinations of contemporary Latinx literature, and applications of Chicana third-space feminist theories. She is the co-editor of Teaching Gloria E. Anzaldúa, which offers inspiring ideas for the classroom and community utilizing Anzaldúa’s theories and concepts.

“The Molino” Is Food Book Award Finalist

April 10, 2025

The Molino: A Memoir by Melani Martinez is on the shortlist for Kitchen Arts & Letters second annual Nach Waxman Prize for Food and Beverage Scholarship. According to the Kitchen Arts & Letters announcement: “The prize includes an award of $5,500 and highlights a U.S.-published book which invites the general public to seriously consider issues in culinary and beverage history, anthropology, sociology, linguistics, geography, and other fields of study.” Other authors on the shortlist are Christopher Beckman, Lisa Jacobson, Pascaline Lepeltier, and Nicola Twilley.

The winner of the prize will be announced May 6, 2025. The prize is named for Nach Waxman (1936–2021), the founder of Kitchen Arts & Letters bookstore, where he ardently championed the work of food and beverage scholars, as well as authors who illuminated the culture behind cooking, eating, drinking, and culinary history.

Congratulations Mele!


About the book:

Set in one of Tucson’s first tamal and tortilla factories, The Molino is a hybrid memoir that reckons with one family’s loss of home, food, and faith.

Weaving together history, culture, and Mexican food traditions, Melani Martinez shares the story of her family’s life and work in the heart of their downtown eatery, El Rapido. Opened by Martinez’s great-grandfather, Aurelio Perez, in 1933, El Rapido served tamales and burritos to residents and visitors to Tucson’s historic Barrio Presidio for nearly seventy years. For the family, the factory that bound them together was known for the giant corn grinder churning behind the scenes—the molino. With clear eyes and warm humor, Martinez documents the work required to prepare food for others, and explores the heartbreaking aftermath of gentrification that forces the multigenerational family business to close its doors.

Enrique Ochoa on the “Esculent” Podcast

April 3, 2025

Enrique C. Ochoa spoke with “Esculent” podcast host Elizabeth McQueen from University of California, Davis, on the role of corporations in constructing a thread of Mexico’s culinary history. Ochoa is the author of México Between Feast and Famine: Food, Corporate Power, and Inequality.

In the interview titled, “Corporate Power and a visit to Disneyland’s Mission Tortilla Factory,” Ochoa talked about what happened after 1492 contact with Europeans: “Eighty to ninety percent of the indigenous population is wiped out in the areas where Europeans go in a short period of time. And that leads to the takeover of those lands, the expansion of wheat and of European notions of food at the expense of indigenous ways of knowing and foodstuffs. And over time, indigenous foods were seen as poor people’s foods. Instead of talking about pulque and maize and eating from nature, the notion is that to live well, one has to eat wheat bread and drink wine like Europeans do.”

Listen to the full podcast here.

***

About the book:

México Between Feast and Famine provides one of the first comprehensive analyses of Mexico’s food systems and how they reflect the contradictions and inequalities at the heart of Mexico. Ochoa examines the historical roots and contemporary manifestations of neoliberal policies that have reshaped food production, distribution, and consumption in Mexico. Ochoa analyzes the histories of Mexico’s mega food companies, including GRUMA, Bimbo, Oxxo, Aurrera/Walmex, and reveals how corporations have captured the food system at the same time that diet-related diseases have soared. The author not only examines the economic and political dimensions of food production but also interrogates the social and cultural impacts.

Five Questions with Jose Fernandez

April 1, 2025

In Publishing Latinidad: Latinx Literary and Intellectual Production, 1880–1960, Jose O. Fernandez meticulously examines the works of notable figures like José Martí, Arturo Schomburg, Jesús Colón, José de la Luz Sáenz, Adela Sloss-Vento, and Américo Paredes, illuminating their innovative approaches to circumventing exclusionary practices in the publishing world. He demonstrates how these writers and intellectuals entered literary, cultural, and intellectual discourses through alternative modes of literary production: crónicas, translations, paratexts, bibliographies, archival practices, sketches, diaries, biographies, unpublished fiction, and scholarly monographs.

Today, Fernandez answers five questions.

What inspired you to write this book?

When I began writing about post-1960s Latinx writers, I became interested in early authors, intellectuals, and civil rights activists that could be considered their predecessors in relation to a shared interests in articulating their unequal treatment within American society. Publishing Latinidad is a continuation of my previous book in which I explored the historical background of certain Latinx literary genres and forms. When I was a graduate student, for example, I was unaware of the rich tradition of early Latinx writers and intellectuals who came before the writers of the Chicanx and Nuyorican movements. I still remember my surprise at finding José Martí in The Norton Anthology of Latino Literature, but this should not have been the case. A larger part of Martí’s writings originated in New York City, and his literary and intellectual legacy directly influenced other Latinx writers after him. In this book, I wanted to study these connections in more detail, and specifically how early nontraditional Latinx texts and print forms fit within Latinx literary history.

How do you choose the intellectual analyzed in each chapter?

For the last couple of decades, if not longer, there has been an increased interest in the study of writers and intellectuals who can be considered precursors of Latinx writers who came of age after the 1960s. For this book project, I wanted to highlight writers from the turn of the twentieth century to the mid twentieth century since this is the literary period that I concentrated on in graduate school. There are a number of writers who could have merited a chapter in the book such as Sotero Figueroa, Bernardo Vega, Juan Antonio Corretjer, Eusebio Chacón, Jovita González, and especially Alonso Perales. The authors I selected are connected to each other when divided in two geographic areas, New York City and Texas. My book seeks to explore literary and intellectual ties; for example, Jesús Colón wrote about Arturo Schomburg, who in turned was directly influenced by the writings of Martí. The same happened in Texas as Adela Sloss-Vento met and corresponded with José de la Luz Sáenz and Alonso Perales, and Américo Paredes was aware of the writings and civil rights activism of Perales at the time when Paredes’s poetry was being published in Spanish-language newspapers during the 1930s.

When Texas Mexican soldiers serving in World War I returned to the United States, what was the state of race relations in Texas?

Racialization through legislation and the courts affected the lives of both Mexicans and Mexican Americans in Texas. Their social lives were dictated by “Juan Crow” segregation, which was similar to the segregation and racial violence experienced by African Americans at the time. Sáenz, who fought overseas during World War I, writes about segregated barber shops, restaurants, and public accommodations in Texas after the war. The racial discrimination Mexican communities experienced in Texas before and after the war influenced Sáenz’s writings and social activism. There is an increasing body of scholarship that has focused in detail on the extent of these systems of racial control and racial hierarchies affecting Mexicans and Mexican Americans not only in Texas but across the Southwest. The list of scholars who have written about this is extensive, but in relation to the various Mexican American civil rights activists who emerged after the war, it is important to note the scholarship of Benjamin Johnson, José A. Ramírez, Emilio Zamora, Martha Menchaca, and Cynthia Orozco. What I attempted in Publishing Latinidad was to connect this history with writers such as Sáenz, Perales, and Sloss-Vento, who wrote about this through nontraditional texts and print forms.  

What are the connections between Mexican American civil rights and African American civil rights and Indigenous civil rights?

Unfortunately, the prevailing commonality among the experiences of these groups was their shared racialization and exclusion from mainstream social, political, and cultural participation in the United States. At the same time, Latinx, Black, and Indigenous groups during different periods in history also shared their fight for inclusion and for their rightful place in society and inclusion of their cultural and intellectual contributions. Another shared trait of these groups in their fight for civil rights was that while they gained their citizenship at different periods in American history, their social thinking and literary writings have been marked by their attempts to gain full citizenship rights. To bring back Sáenz as an example, some of his arguments when he articulates the need for full rights for Mexican Americans after World War I uncannily resemble some of the claims made by W.E.B. Du Bois when he makes a case during the war for the end of racial violence against African Americans. Sáenz also specifically makes the argument in his war diary that Indigenous groups in the U.S. should be granted citizenship based on their war sacrifices.

What are you working on now?

There is an increased interest in the current role of mainstream publishers in the publication and promotion of authors of color. When it comes to Latinx authors, this exclusion is not new; it is the result of their historical exclusion in cultural, publishing, and academic spaces. One of my current projects focuses on the role and significance of Arte Público Press, the most successful nonprofit Latinx publisher for the last fifty years. This project focuses on the history of Arte Público and its founder, Nicolás Kanellos, and how several of the authors and books published by the press have shaped the trajectory of Latinx literature.


Jose O. Fernandez is an assistant professor in the Latina/o/x Studies Program at the University of Iowa. He is the author of Against Marginalization: Convergences in Black and Latinx Literatures. His research focuses on the emergence and development of the Latinx literary tradition through a comparative ethnic studies lens and the influence of the publishing dynamics that have shaped Latinx literary and intellectual production in the United States.

Five Questions with Carlos G. Vélez-Ibáñez

March 20, 2025

Carlos G. Vélez-Ibáñez’s latest work, The Rise of Necro/Narco Citizenship investigates the intricate and often harrowing dynamics that define the borderlands between the United States, Mexico, and beyond. This groundbreaking book provides a comprehensive cultural, economic, social, and political-ecological analysis, illustrating how various forms of violence and militarization have reshaped the daily lives and identities of the region’s inhabitants.

Today, Dr. Vélez-Ibáñez answers five questions.

This work has been described as “distressing but essential.” What compelled you to undertake this project at this time?

I have looked at many global and regional indications of this latest version of global capital at this late stage, and it is not serving the livelihoods of millions of communities. I characterize this as “Wars of Omission,” forcing some 80 million globally to try to relocate to more positive conditions only to meet with equivalent situations. Or worse, such Wars of Omission have created conditions in which psychotropic drugs are adopted as a means of dulling the stresses imposed by these processes, generating “Wars of Commission” in response. Both wars generate their attending necro/narco citizenships. The southwest American and northwest Mexican border region, which I refer to as the Southwest North America Region, is the central focus of this narrative. This region is larger than western Europe and Great Britain and is undergoing these process with greater and greater dependence on forced and voluntary migrations of families on both sides of the border bifurcation as well as those seeking to escape through the production, distribution, and consumption of drugs. I am most concerned about the impact on youth and following generations as the primary targeted population.

You have written many books and articles. What are three of the key threads that tie your work together across your long career?

First, finding answers to the question of how people survive economic and social frailties when they should not be able. Second, finding answers to the question of how people manage to excel when everything is stacked up against them. Third, how do following generations utilize and benefit from (or not) those survival and excelling strategies. And now, fourth, understanding how people manage to survive both Wars of Omission and Commission, both much beyond their influence or control.

The Rise of Necro/Narco Citizenship draws on the theorization of Necrocitizenship and takes it further, specifically deploying it for the U.S-Mexico Transborder Region. How do you explain this theory (briefly) to the lay reader?

The manner in which I use necrocitizenship and its companion narcocitizenship is to describe the unquestioning willingness to succumb for an empire, nation, region, or locality in its name. This willingness is commonly formed by highly ritualized practices as it is learned, transmitted, and operationalized. It eventually leads to service, injury, or the death of a participant. Its modern companion of narcocitizenship is its moving from necrocitizenship by offering fulfillment of omitted economic and social functions with alternative rewards, symbols, and rituals. These lead to equivalent service, injury, or certain death because of seeking to ensure the control, production, distribution, and consumption of drugs and range in acquisition from full-fledged membership to muted compliance.

An interview with you appeared in the PBS series American Historia in the second episode “Threads in the American Tapestry.” What was that like?

It afforded me a chance to reemphasize the short duration of the political barrier imposed by war between present populations since it is only two grandmothers old, which is usually referred to by some sort of innocent referent like annexation, integration, appropriation, or sequestration, instead of its simple reality of conquest. The same is true for the Spanish version of conquest three hundred years earlier. Both were unwanted impositions with long-lasting consequences for their original constituents and colonially created populations.

What is one thing you hope scholars in the future will take away from your work and then build on?

Pay attention on the ground to what populations are doing for survival and achievement and their costs and benefits to themselves and following generations. For the most part, there are not only just good guys or bad guys, though it may seem to be so simple. Staying focused on the ground provides the best differentiation and similarities.


Carlos G. Vélez-Ibáñez received a PhD in anthropology from the University of California, San Diego (1975). His intellectual interests are broadly comparative and applied, and his publications include thirteen books in English and Spanish, as well many articles and chapters. Three of his English-language books have been translated into Spanish. He held tenured professorships in anthropology at the University of California, Los Angeles, and the University of Arizona, where, in 1982, he founded the Bureau of Applied Research in Anthropology. He is Regents’ Professor of the School of Transborder Studies and the School of School of Human Evolution and Social Change and the Motorola Presidential Professor of Neighborhood Revitalization at Arizona State University. He was elected as Corresponding Member of the Mexican Academy of Sciences and Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

Five Questions with Ezekiel Stear

March 12, 2025

Nahua Horizons: Writing, Persuasion, and Futurities in Colonial Mexico investigates how Nahua writers in Central Mexico and other Mesoamerican voices in colonial Spanish America played an active role in shaping culture, using writing to persuade their communities to mold their own destinies, even amid colonial upheaval. This work opens up new directions for research and teaching, shifting inquiry from how Nahuas preserved cultural continuity to how they envisioned their roles as pathfinders toward times to come.

Today, the author answers five questions about his work.

What inspired you to write this book?

In part, I wrote this book to offer a fresh approach to how Nahua culture has survived and adapted over the centuries. The conventional buzz words of “mestizaje” and “syncretism” did not sit right with me. They lack the aspect of individual agency. For years, these terms have been the one-size-fits-all approach to describing how Mexico became Mexico. Yet from my own readings, the time I have spent in Mexico, and the meaningful relationships I have there, I knew those generic approaches were insufficient. The many inspiring individuals I have met, from Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities, led me to research the lives of past individuals, who, despite the odds, chose to shape their own futures.

Many people have likely heard of the Florentine Codex, one of the more famous documents you discuss. Could you describe the significance of this text to your book?

The Florentine Codex is an expansive and crucial document for understanding colonial Mexico, mainly because it forms a nexus of Nahua-Spanish dialogue at a time of great uncertainty. The Nahua scholars who contributed to the project faced the uncertainty of how their work would allow their ancestral knowledge(s) to endure. That said, the document also conveys processes of Hispanization already well underway during its composition in the 1570s. The Spanish, of course, hoped to gain knowledge from the Florentine Codex for use by colonial administrators and clergy—so, the Codex also conveys a colonizing ethos. That said, my work brings out the fact that Nahua healing practices carry with them the idea that healers would continue their work in the future. Nahua healers who contributed to Books 10 and 11 of the Codex did so with the understanding that they were laying groundwork for the continuation of their practices beyond their own lives.

In this project, one of your goals is to correct the “pervasive presentation of the Nahuas as passive receptors of cultural change instead of active interpreters of events and builders of their own futures.” Why is it important that we shift our perspective on the Nahuas in this way?

The book does call for a shift in the view from Nahuas as passive recipients of cultural accommodation to active generators of cultural change. Nahua futurities work as a counterbalance to a certain theoretical disempowerment in academic and popular discourses. It is true that the military arm of the Spanish invasion looked callously on Indigenous cultures and saw them a source of manual labor. What is more, as multiple epidemics rolled over Central Mexico, religious friars brought a system of knowledge intended to divorce Nahuas from their traditional beliefs. While we cannot overstate the destruction and human suffering the Spanish invasion brought, there is another side of the story. By perpetuating a narrative of Indigenous loss, we run the risk of obscuring the innovative approaches to balanced living that the Nahuas have developed, and continue developing, over the past 500 years. Ironically, the cruelty of European colonization moved the Nahuas to plan for futures despite their losses.

Are there lessons we should take from the ways Nahuas conceptualized their futures?

Two lessons come to mind: first, that Nahuas made strategic use of distance from colonial centers to carve out areas of sovereignty for themselves. The book brings to light the results of deliberations Nahuas made about how to use the Spanish legal system to their advantage, how to make strategic alliances with clergy to further their own goals, and, most importantly, how they used writing as a means to convince their communities that a road worth taking lay ahead.

Along with that realization comes the fact that the future itself is a rhetorical figure. No one speaks to us of any future unless they are trying to get us to think, believe, or do something. The Spanish used religious and juridical rhetoric, along with military force and physical displacement of Indigenous towns to compel cooperation. What amazes me is that in the face of that aggression Nahua writers used tools of persuasion to encourage their people to build, to farm, to heal, to educate, to document, and to celebrate their lifeways.

What are you working on next?

My next project shifts regions but remains in the colonial period. It concerns a cache of letters in my university’s archives from the coastal settlements of Pensacola and Mobile at the end of the Spanish empire. During the early years of the 19th century, anxious Spanish clergy and Spanish military officers wrote to authorities in Habana, Cuba describing the scarcities they experienced as the Spanish Empire declined. At the same time, Pensacola and Mobile became key commercial outposts for the Mvskoke (Creek) people, who were at war with the United States. The Mvskoke traded with the Spanish in their settlements for guns and ammunition for their ongoing fight against U.S. encroachment on their territories. In addition to the letters, I will examine broken treaties and other Mvskoke documents to write a parallel history of the Mvskoke and Spanish up to the U.S. expansion that drove them both from the region. I hope that the study will expand much-needed dialogue between the Mvskoke Nation, those of us who study the Spanish colonial period, and scholars of the Indigenous Southeast.


Ezekiel Stear is an assistant professor of Spanish and colonial Spanish American literature at Auburn University.

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