Fans pick 100 books like A Nation of Emigrants

I love this book because it was one of the first scholarly works to consider what is now commonly accepted among researchers of US-Mexican relations: that borders are fluid.

This thin volume gives a concise history of the US-Mexico border. It treats border zones as distinct, rather than peripheral, spaces in the nation. In the case of the United States and Mexico, the border region is neither American nor Mexican but rather an amalgamation of both. The implicit statement being, of course, that treating the physical border between the two countries as rigid and categorical is fallacious.

I also love this book because it debunks the almost predetermined ways in which borders are viewed. Instead of prescribed lines on a map that make perfect sense on the ground, borders are moving (sometimes literally, often times figuratively), and fashioned by various demographic, economic, political, and military factors. A foundational book for… show more.

This book is a classic work that discusses the massive repatriation of Mexican immigrants and Mexican Americans to Mexico during the 1930s amidst the Great Depression in the United States. Mexican immigrants who had been recruited to the United States during years of plenty were coercively expunged from US society when economic hard times hit.

I love the forceful tone of the book as it recounts the experiences of repatriating persons of Mexican descent: abuse at the hands of American employers and law enforcement and neglect by Mexico's government. The authors give a humanity to displaced persons that can easily be lost in quantitative and macroeconomic analyses of immigration.

It shows that, at their root, immigration crises involve humans and the choices they are often coerced to make to survive.

Speaking of humans at the center of immigration, this book gives voice to Mexican immigrants throughout the 20th century.

The book showcases retablos, which are small paintings (often on pieces of tin no larger than 6” x 8”) commissioned by migrants and their families that give thanks for overcoming the struggles of immigrating to and living in the United States. Religious in symbolism and message, retablos are essentially pictorial prayers.

Many migrants leave no records of their efforts to cross the border; leaving a paper trail is dangerous if they enter the United States undocumented. In this sense, retablos are some of the few sources that document the dangers of immigration from migrants’ perspectives. This book helped humanize my analysis of immigration in US-Mexico relations.

I love this book because it tears apart any idea of objectivity in the law’s treatment of race and citizenship in US history. It argues that law plays a crucial role in creating racial categories. Far from fixed and predetermined, notions of race were constructed by courts throughout US history to determine whether persons were white enough to be included in the polity.

While this book does not specifically address Mexican immigration it is, nevertheless, immensely important to the study of US immigration history because of how it treats the law as a contested space. The law is not an aloof arbitrator in disputes over race and citizenship, but rather a central player in determining the contours of the nationality of a people. The book appears in many bibliographies, and is a foundational text of Critical Race Theory.

Miroslava Chavez Garcia’s parents were tragically killed when she was very young. As an adult, already an accomplished historian, she came across a trunk in her uncle’s closet filled with their letters to each other. Using those letters, she builds a deeply personal history. Her story adds dimensions we usually cannot know about migration and the emotional bonds it strains and sustains.

Indivisible tells the story of Mateo Garcia and his little sister. Their parents are picked up by immigration officials. His school life is interrupted by this terrible event. Mateo has to help take care of his sister while not knowing what is going to happen to his parents. As a daughter of immigrants, I felt very drawn to the story. I understand what a difficult decision it is for parents to make to leave behind their home countries to try to make a better life for their children.

Family separation, leaving one's own country, and learning a new language are some of the topics readers will find in this book, all of which are very relevant for kids to understand and to be empathetic to today. It's informative, sensitive, and beautifully illustrated by Luisa Uribe, one of my favorite illustrators at the moment.

It is the true story of author Areli Morales, and it follows a Mexican girl who emigrated to the United States. Reading it just makes you want to cheer for Areli, that she will be reunited with her family, that she will find her place in her new city and school, and that her family will have a better future.

I had never heard of Lorenzo de Zavala until I started researching El Norte, and his story deserves to be much more widely known. He was born in Mexico when it was still under Spanish rule, and later became involved in Mexican independence. He also participated in the formation of the breakaway Republic of Texas (Tejas) in 1836, and he served as its first vice-president. Before that period of his life, however, he took a tour of the United States. He started in New Orleans in 1830, working his way north and east. This book describes that trip and his observations about the United States. It is one of the earliest travel accounts of the US written by a Mexican, and it provides a fascinating perspective from someone whose life intersected with pivotal political moments in both countries.

Drawing on original data collected by the authors, this book’s focus is Mexican immigration to the U.S. in the 1980s and 1990s, when the U.S. ramped up border enforcement to deter undocumented immigration. It illuminates the dysfunctionality of the U.S. immigration system, highlighting the unintended consequences of legislation like the 1986 Immigration Control and Reform Act (IRCA), which utterly failed to achieve its objectives. Rather than coming under “control,” the flow of undocumented immigrants across the U.S.-Mexico border instead skyrocketed after IRCA. The reason, the authors show, is that intensified border enforcement raised the costs and risks of crossing the border without authorization, leading many Mexican workers who once had gone back and forth across the border to permanently settle in the U.S., soon joined by family members.  

In San Diego, “Little Angel” visits his half-brother, the patriarch of a large Hispanic clan at what they both suspect will be his last birthday party. “Big Angel,” grew up in Mexico and Urrea treats us to the story of his life, how he won his wife, how he ended up in San Diego. “Little Angel,” the author, tries to locate himself in this family, though he is half Gringo.

I loved the deep honesty that goes on in this family gathering, the fun and the sorrow. And it certainly locates the reader in place, in time, and in a culture. All of Urrea’s books are amazing.