A Hero's Guide to Summer Vacation - Manual de un héroe para las vacaciones de verano

Written by Pablo Cartaya

*Publisher: Kokila

*Print length: 288 pages

*ISBN-10: 0451479750

*ISBN-13: 978-0451479754

*Reading age: 8 - 12 years

*Grade level: 3 - 7

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Reality proves more epic than fantasy in this family road trip story starring a reluctant young hero and his curmudgeonly grandfather.

A Pura Belpré Children’s Author Honor Book

Gonzalo Alberto Sánchez García has never considered himself the hero of his own story. He’s an observer, quietly snapshotting landscapes and drawing the creatures he imagines emerging from them. Forced to spend the summer with his estranged grandfather, Alberto William García—the very famous reclusive author—Gonzalo doesn't expect to learn that heroes and monsters are not only the stuff of fantasy.

But that’s precisely what happens when Gonzalo’s CEO mother, Veronica, sends Alberto on tour to promote the final book in his fantasy series for children and Gonzalo must tag along, even though he feels no connection to his grandfather or the books. Together, they embark on a cross-country road trip from Mendocino to Miami in a classic 1968 Oldsmobile Cutlass S convertible named Mathilde. Over the course of ten epic days on the highway, they will slay demons, real and imagined; confront old stories to write new ones; and learn what it truly means to show up for your family.

Manual de un héroe para las vacaciones de verano

Tres generaciones, tres mil millas, un verano inolvidable.

Gonzalo Alberto Sánchez García nunca se ha considerado el héroe de su propia historia. Es un observador silencioso, que captura paisajes y dibuja a los animalitos que imagina en ellos. Obligado a pasar el verano con su abuelo a quien no ve muy seguido, Alberto William García —el famoso autor ermitaño— Gonzalo no espera descubrir que los héroes y los monstruos existan más allá de la fantasía.

Pero eso es precisamente lo que ocurre cuando la madre de Gonzalo, Verónica, una exitosa ejecutiva, envía a Alberto de gira para promocionar el nuevo libro de su serie de fantasía infantil, y Gonzalo debe acompañarlo, a pesar de no sentir conexión alguna con su abuelo o con sus libros. Juntos, emprenden un viaje por carretera de costa a costa, desde Mendocino hasta Miami, en un clásico Oldsmobile Cutlass S Convertible de 1968 al que llaman Mathilde. A lo largo de diez días épicos en la carretera, enfrentarán demonios, reales e imaginados; revisitarán viejas historias que servirán para escribir nuevas; y aprenderán lo que realmente significa estar presente para la familia.

Review

“A touching intergenerational road trip epic that juxtaposes heavy themes surrounding loss with playful yet sophisticated interpretations of artistic integrity.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review

“Cartaya weaves humor, heartbreak, and a host of literary tropes and techniques into this complex tale of three grieving road trippers.”—Booklist, starred review

“Wondrous.” —Shelf Awareness, starred review 

“Cleverly structured and sweetly engaging.”—Kirkus Reviews

“In this exploration of grief, generational impact, and healing, readers will find a book they can’t put down.” —School Library Journal

“This intergenerational book spins each character's grief together and then, gives them a hero.” —Edith Campbell for School Library Journal’s Pearl’s & Ruby’s blog

“Con humor, corazón y mucho viaje interior, esta novela es ideal para tweens que buscan una lectura cálida y emocionante, perfecta para el verano.” —People En Español

Pablo Cartaya is a sought-after speaker, actor, educator, and the award-winning author of The Epic Fail of Arturo Zamora, Marcus Vega Doesn't Speak Spanish, Each Tiny Spark, The Last Beekeeper, and Curveball. Learn more about Pablo at PabloCartaya.com and follow him online @PHCartaya.

Las novelas de Pablo Cartaya exploran la identidad, el lugar y los espacios intermedios. Su primera novela sobre un niño que defiende a su comunidad, El épico fracaso de Arturo Zamora, recibió críticas con tres estrellas y es un Libro de Honor del Pura Belpré 2018. Cuando Pablo no escribe, pasa tiempo con su familia o sueña con su próximo viaje a Puerto Rico. Conoce más sobre Pablo en pablocartaya.com y sígalo en Twitter @phcartaya.

Online Floricanto: El Tranquilo Gallery; She Rises, Women of Strength and Beauty

La Bloga Online Floricanto: She Rises, Women of Strength and Beauty

Curator Ginette Rondeau responds to last week’s La Bloga-Tuesday, in a comment you can read in whole at this link. Rondeau’s insightful selection of artists and arte reaffirm her statement, "I believe—deeply—that art must become the place where we return to ourselves. Not to escape, but to remember who we are, what we value, and how we hold each other up with dignity and truth.

Curator Ginette Rondeau

For Women’s History Month, I envisioned the exhibition as a tapestry of women in Los Angeles—spanning generations from 15 to 80, across cultures and artistic mediums—each expressing her voice, her story, and her truth.

What you witnessed at El Tranquilo was exactly that intention. A gathering of voices, of women, of stories—each one carrying strength, vulnerability, and light. I am profoundly grateful, and deeply honored to present the work of such extraordinary artists, whose voices embody strength, beauty, and truth.

I am especially grateful to Jennifer Baptiste, Rio Diaz, Andrea Lee, and Lupe Montiel for bringing that spirit into the space with such honesty and power.

She Rises, Women of Strength and Beauty was created as a sanctuary—one that honors resilience, womanhood, and the quiet force of beauty that persists even in difficult times."

Jennifer Baptiste

  

If You’re Lucky Enough

One day,

If you’re lucky enough,
You’ll get the pleasure of aging.
To pose in the mirror, just to say you’ve still got it.
Savor the taste of a drink,
Smell the memories of youth,

Release the pleasures of the material plane for simpler joys,
And wear wisdom in the crevices of your face.
One day you’ll embrace the peaceful moments,
Give grace to others in chaos,
Release grudges that weigh upon you
As you brush gray strands while losing others,
And have the pleasure of marveling at the sights of generations of change.
One day you’ll matter to yourself
Instead of longing for other people’s lives
You’ll treasure and live your own.
 

 

Embers In The Flame

Is there a word for being jealous of who you used to be?
I was fire and shine and stare stopping chill.
Exuding confidence in the face of fear because I didn’t know it yet.
I remember her now.
Reacquainted with the woman I was before.
Speaking without a care,
Dressing for myself, reading harlequins by the meadow under dragonflies.
Existing courageously on the other side of the societal shaping of a tame woman I came to be.
I am not small.
I am the remnants of embers in my former flame, radiating from yesterday’s shine, on the cusp of something better
rising from the ashes.
A greater version of me.
A phoenix in the flame.

 

Jennifer “Miss B” Baptiste

Jennifer “Miss B. ” Baptiste is an L.A. based writer, librarian, and actor from Houston, TX. She creates lyrical introspective pieces to promote healing, mindfulness, empowerment, and curiosity.

 

 

Andrea Lee (Coach A. Lee) - Ms. Drea The Poet

 

IF I AWAKEN IN LOS ANGELES
A Love Letter to the City That Still Believes in Dreams

 

When I was born in Los Angeles, I do not rise alone.
I rise with the palms that stretch like giants reaching for the sun,
with the sirens and the silence,
the traffic and the poetry,
the grit and the glitter living side by side.
 
This city is a heartbeat—steady, loud, and unashamed.
A place where every sidewalk crack has a story,
every mural is a love note,
every stranger is a question mark waiting to become a sentence.
 
Los Angeles does not introduce itself slowly.
It grabs you by the soul and whispers,
“Who are you becoming?”
Because here, identity is not fixed
it is painted, reinvented, broken down, rebuilt, renamed.
 
I have seen this city cradle the lost and crown the found.
I’ve watched dreamers walk into auditions, shelters, classrooms, and open mics
hoping for a yes
and I’ve watched them learn to survive the no.
LA teaches you: the only thing stronger than struggle
is the one who still wakes up the next morning.
 
If I awaken in Los Angeles,
I awaken in the middle of possibility,
in a mosaic of cultures, colors, languages, neighborhoods, recipes, rhythms, and prayers.
A city where tamales taste like gospel
where the ocean baptizes the tired
and the mountains remind us we were never meant to stay small.
 
This is a city of contradictions
where homelessness and Hollywood share the same sky
where wealth can live across the street from wounds
where sunshine doesn’t mean safety
but hope still shows up every day anyway.
 
And yet
Los Angeles loves us without apology.
She gives us sunsets so dramatic they feel personal
street performers who sing like they’re saving the world
neighbors who water the sidewalk just to cool the day
old men playing chess outside donut shops,
artists making futures out of recycled dreams.
 
If I awaken in Los Angeles, I awaken knowing
this city is not just where I live
it is a mirror.
A reminder that healing is not quiet
success is not simple
love is not tidy
and growth is not always gentle.
 
Here, we learn to create ourselves out of the pieces that survived.
Here, we remember that even concrete can bloom.
Here, we understand that belonging is not found
it is built.
 
So I say this with all my chest:
Dear Los Angeles
thank you for the lessons wrapped in palm trees,
the sunsets that refuse to repeat themselves
the strangers who feel like future friends
and the way you hold both pain and possibility in the same palm.
 
If I awaken in Los Angeles,
I awaken in a city that demands I rise
that dares me to dream louder
that teaches me love is work
but worth it.
Los Angeles loves me
And I will love you back,
not for who you pretend to be
but for who you are
an unfinished masterpiece
still shaping the people who dare to call you home.

 

Ms.Drea_Thepoet

Coach Andrea Lee, affectionately known as Ms. Drea The Poet, is a dynamic author, professional poet, certified life and relationship coach, emotional intelligence facilitator, and community leader based in Los Angeles, California. With over 20 years of experience in social services, Andrea blends creativity, lived experience, and professional training to empower individuals to discover self-love,  emotional resilience, and personal transformation. As the author of the transformative book series "The Power to Change the Way You Love Yourself", Andrea has created a 10-step self-love framework that is now taught through workshops, classes, and speaking engagements across communities. Her work lives at the intersection of poetry, healing, emotional intelligence, storytelling, and mpowerment.  www.AuthorAndreaLee.com

  

Rio Diaz

Resilience in Bloom 

I've had a good life, that's the joke I tell,
A quiet laugh at the edge of a well
That runs deeper than joy, deeper than pain,
A well that fills, empties, then fills again.
I’ve seen the strain others carry inside,
I’ve watched their journeys, and have watched mine collide
With the storms, the sorrows, the heavy cost—
But somehow, in it, nothing is lost.
 
I am a River, always in flow,
Changing course with the winds that blow.
Because growth is never steady, it’s a twist, it’s a bend,
It’s a spiral of beginnings that never end.
I’ve learned to be tender, I’ve learned to be strong,
To bend with the branches that lead me along,
And in that bending, I find my grace,
A quiet resilience, a steady pace.
 
Every moment is a petal unfurled,
Blossoming into a new kind of world.
I’ve been the bud, tight in its shell,
And felt the pull from the earth as I fell
Into light, into rain, into moments unknown,
Where I learned that growth was to be overthrown
by the forces I cannot predict or decide—
But still I stretch, I reach, I rise.
 
I am not the same as I was before,
Each breath, each tear, each open door
Shifts the soil beneath my feet,
Tells me where I’ve been, what I might meet.
The future calls, but softly now,
In whispers that taught me to trust somehow
That the constant change, the endless sway
Is the rhythm of living, a dance we obey.
 
To grow is to lose, and yet to reclaim
The pieces of self that never stay the same.
I wear my past like a coat of thread,
Woven with memories of the lives I’ve led.
But in this moment, I shed that skin,
Grateful for the new bloom within.
 
I recognize the weight of the sharp-edged stone
That presses the heart, that makes us alone.
But gratitude, like roots, digs deep,
Holds me fast while the winds sweep.
And in that holding, I find the sun,
The light that tells me, my day is not done.
 
Optimism is a seed planted with care,
In the soil of loss, in the air of despair.
It grows slow, but it grows strong,
Reaching for the sky where it belongs.
For if I can find, in the darkest place,
One thing to love, one thing to embrace,
Then I can stand, I can bloom, I can rise—
In the garden of hope, under changing skies.
 
So, I carry on, not with perfect grace,
But with a heart that knows its pace
It’s the turning, the shift, the change,
In the constant bloom, however strange.
For life is a flower, always in bloom,
Even in shadow, even in gloom.
And I, like the petals, will open wide,
Grateful for the journey, wherever I stride.
 
© 2025 Rio Diaz. All rights reserved.

 

 

Río Díaz bio 

Rio is a poet, curator, and muralist dedicated to amplifying underrepresented stories through art and cultural narratives. Beyond poetry, she has curated exhibitions at UCLA’s Powell Library, the Venice Family Clinic, and the Mexican Consulate in Los Angeles, as well as Judith F. Baca: The Great Wall of Los Angeles at Jeffrey Deitch Gallery. As Curator of SPARC at Bergamot Studios and the Durón Gallery, she creates immersive, community-driven experiences, including the ongoing multi-year open studio chronicling The Great Wall of Los Angeles mural expansion, where she also serves as senior painter, sketch designer, and project coordinator. Her contributions to Judy Baca: Painting in the River of Angels at LACMA helped transform the Resnick Pavilion into a working studio, extending her commitment to art as collective storytelling. A proud Los Angeles resident, Rio continues to use poetry and visual art to foster dialogue, representation, and connection across communities.

 

Lupe Montiel

Heart of Gold

You don’t have to be old
To be the one who takes one for the team
To bend your knee
To wash the feet
To clean the wounds
To heal yourself
By knowing thyself
To Thine Own Self Be True
Heal your community
Heal your family
Heal the world
Teach the world
Share your time
Talent
And treasure
It’s not always about the money
It’s about seeking Joy
In the little things
In the things that truly matter
Do onto others as you’d have them do onto you
Practice the golden rule
Lead by example
Leave things and places
Better than you found them
Inspire
Transform
Relate
Gold is tested in the fire
Money comes
Money goes
When you’ll have it
Nobody knows
Hope against all hope
Even if the odds are not in your
Favor
Grow your soul
Be a giver not a taker
Tell stories
Write a poem
Paint
Make art
Make love
Fight the good fights
Be the bigger person
The better person
The classy person
The new and improved personAlways show your hearts of gold
Tomorrow might never come
Live life
like everyday
is your last

6/10/21

 

Ella

She gives everything up for love
Ella
She gives her heart to her craft and yet for her home, for her children for her husband, she’ll set
her passions aside to bring forth life
Ella
She forgives infidelity for a moment
She believes in forgiveness
In rekindled love
Ella
She pacifies, the madness, the chaos, the anger, even the loss of her second child
Ella
She prays to heaven for help constantly, in faith looking for healing, for forgiveness, for strength
Ella
The womb that carried death, soon made space for new life, new hope, new love, healing
Ella
She did everything she could to make it work, but marriage is a two way street you can’t do it
alone
Ella
She found new eyes, she found new “love” she found a man who cared who showered her with
attention, she was transformed
Ella
The secret was out, she was in love again, with her life and with her future, no ordinary love
lived in her heart, the energy spilled on to hundreds of pages of poems, stories, song lyrics,
plays and film scripts
EllaShe did all that. She wanted to heal,
From a broken heart, mind, body and soul, she knew the violence would lead to sure death, the
window of opportunity was tiny, she ran for her life, without shoes and torn flesh on her feet
towards a new life, then she never looked back
Ella
She is climbing a mountain with clear instructions from the Divine; always look forward, NEVER
LOOK BACK
Ella
She keeps fighting the good fights, she builds, she creates, she gives, she receives, she dances
in the night,
She makes confessions to the moon
Ella vive, Ella es libre, Ella ama
Ella somos muchas, vivimos, sobrevivimos y seguimos
Ella
Esa mujer soy yo.

written under a Blood Moon Night, 3/3/2026

Lupe Montiel is a poet, playwright, filmmaker, actor, and interdisciplinary artist Lupe is a founding member of The Show & Tale Film, Play, and Arts Festival in Hollywood, California. She curates films and art exhibitions Her latest film releases and credits include the films; Outed, Backburner, Della, Transition, Reunion, Confessions to the moon and Rocketship. All films are currently screening throughout the United States at multiple film festivals. Her poetry is included in the award-winning book, Inficciones (published by Ediciones Aguamiel) her poems and photographs were published in Acid Verse Vol. 2 ( by The Los Angeles Poet Society Press) She curated art by 23 painters in the forthcoming anthology, Anger Is A Gift (published by Flowersong Press) the book includes her poetry. Book release date is August 2026 Lupe recently premiered her play, Queen Of The Rude Girls at Artshare LA, March 14th 2026 She was awarded certificates of recognition from the City of Los Angeles by Mayor Karen Bass and also by Councilmember Ysabel Jurado for her dedication and meaningful contributions to the city’s arts community as an artist, writer, poet and producer.

Lupe Montiel is honored by the City of Los Angeles

“Niebla verde / Green Fog” by Xánath Caraza

“Niebla verde / Green Fog” by Xánath Caraza

 

"Madre" by Juan Chawuk

 

Hombres de humo

de eternidad azul

de pensamientos fragmentados

 

Hombres que ya no sienten a la mujer susurrante

a la mujer de cuerpo celeste

a la mujer de constelaciones dulces

a la mujer que estimula la imaginación

 

En el corazón de las ciudades divididas

de las ciudades sin playa

de las ciudades sin nombre

llega la niebla verde

 

como olas gigantes

como el Saturno de Goya que devora

como el aliento de la serpiente

que da entrada a los hombres de humo

 

Fuerza arrasadora que bloquea

fuerza que no deja fluir los sentimientos

que no deja crecer las almas

de líderes de corazones puros

 

¿Dónde están los recuerdos de la espuma?

¿Dónde están los barullos de la calle?

¿Dónde están las manos salvajes creadoras?

¿Dónde están los pensamientos eternos?

¿Dónde están?

 

Xanath Caraza

Green Fog

 

by Xánath Caraza

 

Men of smoke

of blue eternity

of thoughts fragmented

 

Men who don’t feel the whispering woman anymore

the woman of celestial body

the woman of sweet constellations

the woman who stimulates imagination

 

In the heart of the divided cities

of the cities without a shore

of the cities without a name

green fog arrives

 

as giant waves

as Goya’s Saturn that devours

as the breath of the serpent

that lets the men of smoke come in

 

Crushing power that blocks

power that doesn’t allow feelings to flow

that doesn’t allow souls to grow

the souls of leaders with pure hearts

 

Where are the memories of the foam?

Where are the sounds of the street?

Where are the wild creative hands?

Where are the eternal thoughts?

Where are they?

 

 

“Niebla verde / Green Fog” is part of the collection Corazón de pintado by Xánath Caraza (Pandora lobo estepario productions, 2015)

 

Xanath Caraza

Art, “Madre”, by Juan Chawuk.

 

Cover art, Corazón pintado, by José Jesús Chán Guzmán. 

The Good Land Offers a Home for Goleta Poets

Melinda Palacio

The Poetry Club

      

When I saw the announcement of a poetry club at the Goleta Valley Library, I was happy to check it out since I thought the library was closed for renovations. When I arrived, I realized there was some information missing from the announcement. The Goleta Valley Library is indeed closed for renovations but there was a sign sending people to the express library. Since last July, the library’s collection is in a temporary building at 6500 Hollister Avenue, Suite 105, known as GVL Express. At the Express library you can use one of four computers, check out and return books, buy books from the Friends of the Library, and take advantage of a variety of free bilingual services and resources.

I walked in expecting to be only a little late to the poetry club. However, the friendly staff explained that the poetry club was being held at the Goleta Community Center in the opposite direction I had traveled. The librarian’s encouragement kept me going. She said that the poetry club is worth finding and lots of fun. Most of the library’s social meetings, their mystery book club and film club, are located at the Goleta Community Center. By the time I found The Poetry Club, the doors to the community center were locked. Luckily, someone heard me rattling the door and let me in.

What I found was a welcoming group of diverse people, both poetry enthusiasts and budding poets in a large comfortable room with chairs and comfortable couches. The atmosphere was of friends learning about poetry and commenting on the poems. At least two people shared their own poetry. Library Assistant Tara Patrick brought copies of well known poems to discuss, but was pleased that participants brought their own favorite poems to pass out. “The idea is you don’t have to be a poet,” she said, “but we love for people to read their own work. Poet César R. Verrier enjoys bringing new drafts of his work to the group for feedback. “You can test how it resonates with other people and work on it,” he said.

César R. Verrier

 

A young poet, Nazani Cassidy, found the Poetry Club on instagram through the library’s @goletavalleylibrary account. She cherishes the monthly meetings and says she would attend more often should the group decide to meet weekly. Nazani works in Old Town and was thrilled to find a poetry group in her community that fits her full time work schedule. The Poetry Club meets the 3^rd Sunday of the Month from 2-3:30 pm at the Goleta Community Center, 5679 Hollister Avenue and is a free program offered by the Goleta Valley Library. Nazani appreciates the support and encouragement she receives from the group. “This is a great group of local people who really care about taking the time to listen.

 

Nazani Cassidy

 *an earlier version of this column was published in the Santa Barbara Independent

Reflections on the Other "You"

                                                                                   

Ideas on colonized people

     What do we mean when we use the term “Latino” or “Latina,” probably the most widely used term for people of Indo-Spanish descent? I suppose a direct translation of “Latino” is “Latin,” which indicates a descendent of Rome, as in Italian, even though the preferred word for people from Latin America, collectively, is “Latino,” as in “Latino Americano;” though, usually their first response, if asked, would more likely be: “Guatemalteco, Peruano, Chileno, Colombiano, Mejicano,” etc. So, how did “Latino” get into the lexicon and what does it really mean?

     To some people, words of identification, like “Latino,” are more a “state of being,” even if the dictionary says “Latino” is “Latin—of or relating to Latium, its people or its culture, or relating to ancient Rome, or places and peoples using Romance languages.” That’s complex, and a little unsettling when I hear John Leguizamo say, “Latin” instead of Latino, which I suspect comes from an inferiority which many of us have when pronouncing words in Spanish to Anglo listeners.

     It took a quick google search to learn it was a Frenchman, Michel Chevelier, who, in the 1830s, began calling the countries south of the United States, from Mexico to Argentina “Latino America.” And, indeed, he did want France to form an alliance with countries whose people spoke Romance languages versus those European countries whose people spoke Anglo-Germanic languages. He used the name,Latin America, officially, at a conference in Paris in 1856.

      So, are Americans of Mexican descent “Latino?” That’s different from, say, “Hispanic” or "Hispano," coined for the 1970s census, with input from activist organizations, like the National Council of La Raza. The term means “of or relating to the language, culture, and people of Spain, or Spanish speaking countries, especially Latin America.” My guess is some of those early organizations cringed when non-speaking Spanish people mispronounced, “Latino.” Maybe they thought “Hispanic” a better alternative. It kind of rolls off the English tongue.

     A child of the WWII, Zoot Suit generation, my father, with no malice, whatsoever, saw no contradiction in calling Mexicans from south of the border “Wetbacks,” yet, he wouldn’t stand for anyone to refer to him, his parents, or his friends with that word. His friends he called “Chicanos” or “Hispanics,” which he pronounced, “High-spanic.” I think an accent he picked from his neighbors, many who came from Oklahoma to L.A.'s Westside "slums" during the 1930s Dust Bowl, where they took up residence among poor Mexicans and Japanese. I think my father's generation was the first Mexican generation to see themselves as having "Brown skin, White Masts." They knew they were Mexican and spoke Spanish, but the dominant culture educated them to believe they were "American," so that's how they saw themselves, maybe even "White." They didn't question it, the meaning of "American" or "Whiteness," like those of us in my generation, especially when ordered to go to an "unpopular" and, possibly, "illegal" war.

     When I graduated college in the late ‘70s, ethnic studies professors began using “Chicano” and “Latino,” interchangeably, saying “Chicano” is more specific to a politically aware Mexican American, where “Latino” is a person of Spanish descent, collectively, including mestizos and indigenous people of Latin America.

     “Hispanic” is a person of pure Spanish descent, no hint of Indian blood. That can get confusing in a U.S. census meant to count all people of Indo-Spanish descent. I do know there are some people in parts of New Mexico and Colorado who refer to themselves as “Puro Hispano.” They say they can trace their bloodlines back to the Spaniards who conquered the Southwest in the 1600s. It’s difficult to imagine no mixing of the blood in such small communities for more than four-hundred years.

     So, what about Spanish actors, say, Antonio Banderas, who has played Mexican roles, like in Zorro and Desperado -- Latino or Hispanic, or both? Though, one might argue it doesn’t really matter since Zorro was a fictitious Disney creation about a Spaniard, Don Diego Vega, living in 1800s Los Angeles, before the Anglos arrived. By 1800, the Spanish had been in Mexico 280 years, a long time, and probably few pure-blooded Spaniards among the pobladores, so Zorro was probably more Mexican than Spanish, even if the actor, Guy Williams, who played Zorro in the original 1960’s television series was really Armando Catalano, an Italian American, close, right, technically “Latino,” if we go by Chevalier’s definition.

     What about Julio Iglesias or his American-son, Enrique, or Shakira, Ricky Martin, Bad Bunny, Rocio Durcal, Fidel Castro, Che, Jorge Luis Borges, Selma Hayek, Jorge Bardem, or Penelope Cruz, Latinos or Hispanics? My guess is if you asked, they’d identify with their country of origin; though Hayek is proud of her Mexican-Lebanese ancestry as is Shakira about her Colombian-Spanish-Lebanese ancestry. There a lot of different flavors in the punch.

     Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes didn’t like being pigeon-holed and saw himself as a citizen of the world and, even, referred to himself a “Chicano,” a person straddling borders, both Mexican and American. And, he was right, if he saw “Chicano” as a “state of being” more than an official moniker. Actually, nobody really knows where the word “Chicano” originated, not 100% anyway. One older friend told me when she was a child, she remembered her Californio parents calling Mexican peasants in the U.S., “Cholos,” so she wasn't enthusiastic about the word "Chicano."

     Some argue ethnic labeling is limiting? Psychologically, attaching one’s identity to a particular ethnic term could determine the way the person sees himself or herself. I have a Chicano friend who grew up “Mexican,” like the rest of us. When he heard his family had Native American blood, the next thing we know he had a ponytail and wore turquoise, leather, and feathers.

     Truthfully, I can barely remember the last time anyone asked me my ethnicity. I think int was in the 1970s. My friend’s Anglo wife asked me if I was Italian. I answered, “No. I’m Mexican,” and left it at that. It is strange, though, when I write or if I’m asked to talk on a “Chicano” topic, that’s about the only time I use the word or concepts that have to do with “Chicanismo.” If I don’t know a person’s specific nationality, I refer to him or her as Latino, which might be right or wrong. They may not even see themselves as Latinos.

     Yet, what we call ourselves or how we see ourselves has to affect our identities as individuals, like my friend who learned he was Native American and changed many of his cultural behaviors, except he didn’t give up his Mercedes or home in the suburbs. That would have gone too far.

     Does identifying ourselves as something other than “American” make “less than”? Are Mexicans born (or raised) in the U.S. a colonized people, since Mexcio lost the war with the U.S.? Some of us are the children of refugees, our ancestors fleeing the violence and famine in their own country during revolution and civil war. Yet, like my father's generation, aren’t we all educated to see ourselves as Americans, from a very early age, which raises the question: what is an American?

     If you went to school in say, East L.A., or along the border, where the student body was as 90% “Mexican American,” or higher, the U.S. education system taught you to be an American. So, you look around at all your friends and think, “Yes, we’re American.” So, you see yourself and your friends a certain way – the culture of your community. That is American, even if many people speak Spanish and there are taco and fruit vendors everywhere.

     What happens the first time you leave your neighborhood and travel to, say, play football against Beverly Hills High School, or any wealthier, predominately White school? You enter an entirely different “America.” You might see students who have the best of everything. The students themselves are “beautiful,” like you see in the movies and on television. The guys on their team are gargantuan. They’ve had the best training. They get the best coaches and teachers. How does this affect a person’s psyche. Does it cause one to question what it means to be American? Or, you attend a university, say, like in the Ivy League, and you don’t look like the others, don’t have their money, their privilege, or their prestige, or your first job is with a prominent corporation, and you’re the only “Juan” or “Juana” in the room?

     Black Psychiatrist Frantz Fanon, one of the first people of color to study the effects of colonialism, using Blacks raised in French Martinique as his subjects, might say:  to get through successfully you draw on the Mexican “you,” the American “you,” and the human “you,” the one who made it this far already?” You don’t dwell on the past but focus on the present and the future, not on how others see you but on how you see yourself.

     Fanon suggests that the problem is many of us our caught up in studying who we were, and often the past is an illusion, we forget about studying who we are, now, as humans, apart from the group, each of us unique and different in our own ways, regardless of racial or ethnic identification.

The Invisible Parade

Written by Leigh Bardugo

Illustrated by John Picacio 

*Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

*Language: English

*Print length: ‎60 pages

*ISBN-10: ‎0316295701

*ISBN-13: ‎978-0316295703

*Reading age: ‎5 - 12 years

*Grade level: ‎Kindergarten - 4

 

Winner of the Pura Belpré Award Honor for Illustration!

The picture book debut from #1 New York Times bestselling author Leigh Bardugo and World Fantasy Award winner John Picacio.

It’s time to join the party! Adventure awaits readers of all ages on Día de Muertos​ in this stunningly original and lushly illustrated tour de force about family, love, and overcoming grief.

Everyone in the neighborhood was getting ready for the party.

Everyone knew somebody on the guest list . . .

This was the day the dead returned.

 

There’s a party tonight, but Cala doesn’t want to go. While her family prepares for the celebration, Cala grieves her grandfather and tries to pretend she’s not afraid.

But when she is separated from her family at the cemetery, Cala encounters four mysterious riders who will show her she is actually quite brave after all.

Brimming with magic and humor, The Invisible Parade is the first picture-book collaboration between award-winner John Picacio and New York Times bestselling Leigh Bardugo. Set on the night of Día de Muertos, Cala’s story is one of love, loss, and the courage that can be found in unexpected places.

 

Review

"A stirring story of personal and familial observance in this sweeping work... Truly captivating."―Publishers Weekly, starred review

"An understated masterclass in processing grief through culture."―Booklist, starred review

"Simply wondrous."―Kirkus, starred review

"A heartfelt journey through grief, memory, and celebration...Touching and visually stunning."―School Library Journal

 

Leigh Bardugo is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Familiar, Ninth House and the creator of the Grishaverse (now a Netflix original series) which spans the Shadow and Bone trilogy, the Six of Crows duology, the King of Scars duology—and much more.  Her short fiction has appeared in multiple anthologies including The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy. She lives in Los Angeles and is an associate fellow of Pauli Murray College at Yale University.

John Picacio is a World Fantasy Award– and Hugo Award–winning artist who has created book illustrations for major works by George R. R. Martin, Rebecca Roanhorse, and many more. He’s the founder of the Mexicanx Initiative, spearheading the journeys of more than forty Mexican and Mexican American creators into the wider awareness of fantasy and science fiction audiences. John lives in San Antonio.