In Tsunami: Women’s Voices from Mexico, a new anthology edited by Gabriela Jauregui and Heather Cleary, a compilation of essays, personal testimonies, and poems unveils a nuanced view of resistance, identity, and the lived experiences of women navigating a patriarchal and often violent society. This collection features the plurality of feminist writers, activists, and thinkers in Mexico today, prompting questions like this from Gabriela Jauregui in the essay titled “Disobedient Tools” (Julianna Neuhouser, trans.):
I ask myself: So where do we begin? Along what line of flight, in which philosophical vestibule must we position ourselves to escape from our current state of death? What tools must we use? As women—beyond merely being or defining ourselves as women—which tools are ours, ones we can use to build a world in which we are safe, where we can thrive rather than survive? How can we speak from a place that does not replicate what we criticize, that does not become cissexist, classist, or racist, idealizing certain types of bodies at the expense of other, different ones? How can we broaden our thinking? How can we become hospitable?
Tsunami’s strong embrace of distinct voices fuels its strength, evident in both its writers and their translators. The editors deliberately avoid homogenizing the diverse approaches and styles of the contributors, celebrating instead the richness of their perspectives, “Rather than imposing consistency across the anthology in order to conform to norms, we choose to celebrate the many forms critical political thought can take.” The book reads like a call to action, a mirror reflecting the struggles and triumphs of women, and a space for dialogue that transcends borders and generations. From Indigenous voices to Afro-Latinx perspectives, from established writers to emerging ones, Cleary and Jauregui present readers with experiences that challenge dominant narratives of feminism, reminding the reader in their introduction that the collection seeks to “de-center hegemonic white feminism and to open spaces where different experiences of womanhood and political engagement can resonate with one another in generative conversation.”
The anthology’s thematic breadth ranges from gender-based violence and systemic oppression to motherhood, sexuality, and the intersections of race, class, and gender, coalescing into a cohesive narrative of resistance and resilience. The authors reflect on personal and collective histories, emphasizing the importance of preserving memory as a form of resistance and a way to build a future.
In “The Stories We Are Made Of” activist Jumko Ogata-Aguilar, a writer and film critic explores the intersections of race, culture, and belonging. As an Afro-Japanese Mexican, she challenges the dominant narratives of mestizaje that erase the presence of Black and Asian identities in Mexico. Ogata-Aguilar’s essay (Julianna Neuhouser, trans.) underscores the importance of storytelling in preserving memory and resisting erasure,
Identity is a long, complex story that they tell us, which we adopt, modify, and retell in a new form. I write about who I am because my story encompasses the lives of my ancestors and the places they came from, their strength and their struggles. I write because this is how I keep our memory alive and confront the historical efforts to erase our voices and our collective existence.
Yásnaya Elena A. Gil’s essay (Gabriela Ramirez-Chavez, trans.), “Blood, Language, Surname: Indigenous Women and Nation-States,” explores the complex interplay of Indigenous identity, feminism, and colonial frameworks. Gil shares her personal conflict with the colonial origins of “indigenous” and “feminism,” probing how these terms impose identities on indigenous women and how they can be reframed as tools for resistance. She argues that “indigenous” is a political designation for nations oppressed by colonization and modern nation-states, not a cultural or racial one.
The anthology would not be complete without the raw and unapologetic voice of Dahlia de la Cerda. She offers a sharp detailed critique of privilege within feminist discourse in “Feminism Without a Room of One’s Own” (Julianna Neuhouser, trans.). Challenging Virginia Woolf’s concept of a “room of one’s own” which, she argues, symbolizes a prerogative out of reach for working-class and racialized women, she introduces the concept of zulo—a hiding place—as a metaphor for the spaces where marginalized women can write, think, and resist,
I write for the women who don’t have a room of their own. For the women who write with babies on their tits and the women who don’t write because they have babies on their tits. For the women who theorize while washing the dishes. For the women who theorize while washing clothes, while selling tamales in a rough neighborhood, because reflecting on the injustice of our economic model while selling de chile y de verde is also theorization.
De la Cerda’s essay is both personal and political, blending her own experiences with a broader critique of hegemonic feminism. She calls for a sisterhood that illuminates the lived realities of marginalized women and the need for intersectionality in feminist movements. Reminiscent of her recent book Reservoir Bitches, de la Cerda’s essay uses colloquial language and references to popular culture, making it accessible to a wide audience. Her use of humor and slang adds it its authenticity and relatability.
“Preserving Trans History” by Alexandra R. DeRuiz (Heather Cleary, trans.) offers another vital contribution to this collection, highlighting the often-overlooked history of transgender, transvestite, and transsexual people in Mexico. She recounts her experiences as a trans woman facing systemic violence and societal rejection, stressing the need to document trans history for visibility and justice. She writes, “Few accounts from people along the trans spectrum have been published in Mexico due to the fact that, for generations, we have been subjected to countless forms of systemic and structural violence in this cis-heteropatriarchal society.” Her voice adds depth and urgency to the anthology’s exploration of gender and identity.
Jimena González’s poem “The Others,” (Gabriela Jauregui, trans.) reflects on the marginalization and abuse experienced by the women in her family, and their journey to reclaim agency. González depicts these women as “the others,” often unnamed and defined by their abusive relationships with men. She recounts their struggles with violence, enforced silence, and societal expectations, while expressing a desire to heal and empower them,
I write
to heal myself,
to heal them
to be more than victims,
someone rather than “something,”
so much more than “others.”
Naming the generational trauma, abuse, and cycle of pain within her family, González champions breaking the silence and reclaiming their voices for a future of joy and self-expression void of shame or fear. The poem is an impactful invocation of resilience and resistance against patriarchal oppression.
The book closes with an adaptation of a collective “Letter from the Zapatista Women to Women in Struggle Around the World.” It is a letter that transcends the borders of Mexico showcasing the global struggles for gender, racial, and environmental justice. It is rallying cry for solidarity and resistance. Written in the face of systemic oppression and capitalist exploitation, the letter emphasizes the importance of a collective defense of Indigenous lands and autonomy, “We struggle so history isn’t repeated, and we don’t return to a world where we only cook food and bear children, just to see them grow up into humiliation, disrespect, and death.”
Tsunami: Women’s Voices from Mexico challenges,inspires, and provokes. The writing is often raw and unapologetic, reflecting the urgency of the issues addressed, while also inviting readers to reflect on their own biases and experiences. Tsunami‘s strength lies in its contributors’ diverse styles, allowing readers to engage with the material in multiple ways. It underscores the importance of preserving memory as a form of resistance and a foundation for the future—a reminder of the work ahead and a celebration the resistance, resilience, and the artistic might of Mexican women.
As a white cis female parenting a queer trans kid, this provocative (in all the good senses of the word) anthology left me scrutinizing my own privilege and re-evaluating acquired feminist narratives. In a world where “othering” is experiencing a dangerous renaissance, Tsunami will appeal to readers yearning for insights needed to map the terrain of current feminist politics, human relationships, and personal growth.
Britta Stromeyer is a member of the National Book Critics Circle. Her writing appears in The Common, Necessary Fiction, On The Seawall, Flash Fiction Magazine, Bending Genres Journal, Marin Independent Journal and other publications. Britta has authored award-winning children’s books and holds an MFA from Dominican University, CA, an M.A. from American University, and a Certificate in Novel Writing from Stanford University.