Writing as an Act of Affirmation

I am the daughter and sister of Mexican immigrants. Decades ago in Jalisco, my grandfather, Valentín Ballesteros, was an oral storyteller. People would come from across the rancho to gather around and hear his tales, which were sometimes so long they would go late into the night and continue the next day. I often imagine my abuelo Valentín capturing the imaginations of those in his audience, planting seeds that would bear fruit years – perhaps generations – later.

My abuelo, Valentín Ballesteros, who lived to celebrate his 103rd birthday.

To exist as an immigrant in this country is an act of defiance against those who tell us we don’t belong and that our stories don’t matter. That our voices should be silenced. My writing defies those who promise to erase our language and experiences, who work to ensure our narratives are shaped and told by others but not by us.

As women and writers of color, our voices are vital. Many of us have been told that our perspectives don’t align with the mainstream, and that the way we approach storytelling doesn’t fit the literary model. By refusing to conform, we continue to pave the way for future generations of storytellers who, like my abuelo Valentín, will ensure that our rich histories are heard and remembered.

To be a writer of color is an act of survival. I write in the tradition of my abuelo and so many ancestors who fought to keep our language, our perspectives, and our experiences alive. I write not only in rejection of attempted erasure. I write as an act of affirmation that by our very existence our voices and stories have value. I write to tell my stories in my voice, to plant seeds that perhaps, generations later, may bear fruit.