In the Country We Love: My Family Divided

Guerrero’s overarching goals are to provide hope for those struggling with immigration issues, to draw attention to the plight of the undocumented, and to prompt action on immigration reform. She presents her parents in a sympathetic light to counter negative stereotypes about illegal immigrants. Noteworthy is her emphasis on their cleanliness. In Chapter 2, for example, Guerrero describes both her parents as well groomed: “[Mami] took pride in how she looked, valuing cleanliness as much as she did an honest day’s work,” while Papi kept his short hair “swept neatly back, his mustache perfectly trimmed” (16). Guerrero stresses her parents’ assiduousness: “Mami and Papi, as I affectionately call them—worked. And I mean super-hard. That’s what it takes to make it in America as you’re struggling for citizenship” (12). These passages counter the notion that undocumented immigrants are dirty, lazy, and burdens on the social safety net.

By describing life as it was before the deportation, Guerrero successfully highlights the hardships of growing up with undocumented parents. In Chapter 3, for instance, Guerrero discusses the anxiety that permeated much of her childhood. Every unexpected ring of the doorbell and police siren strikes fear in her. In addition, the family is under constant threat of having someone denounce them to ICE. They respond by living as secretively and unobtrusively as they can. Fear of the authorities prevents the family from reporting crimes, such as domestic violence: “Like everyone else in our secret network, we followed the First Commandment of life under the radar: Do nothing that might bring the cops to your doorstep” (27). Papi in particular is mistrustful of the authorities. He warns Mami not to draw attention to herself when she announces she wants to reopen her green card application. Guerrero sums up his attitude at the beginning of Chapter 3:

Comprehending my father’s reluctance takes understanding what is a reality for millions of foreigners. As much as my dad respected this country, he also had a deep mistrust of its system. He honestly believed that if he presented himself to authorities, he’d be handcuffed and immediately deported for having overstayed his visa. Given the rumors and misinformation constantly circulating among those around us, it makes sense that he thought that way (29).

In addition to fear, shame prompts Guerrero to keep her family’s circumstances to herself. This secrecy raises barriers between her and nearly everyone she encounters, walls that remain intact through college and beyond.

Issues of race, ethnicity, and class intimately tie to immigration in these beginning chapters. Guerrero addresses these topics further at a number of points in her memoir. In Chapter 2, for instance, she describes Sunday drives to Wellesley and other predominantly white towns near Boston, where her family admires ivy-covered homes with pools in the backyards and luxury cars in the driveways. These wealthy enclaves serve as a foil for the Latinx neighborhoods Guerrero grows up in, as well as her family’s small, dilapidated homes. Some of these neighborhoods she grows up in are high-crime areas, adding yet another layer of stress to Guerrero’s childhood: “Egleston […] was frickin’ scary. Gunshots rang out at midnight. Reports of stabbings made the headlines. Graffiti covered the buildings” (14). Chapter 4 also raises issues of race, ethnicity, and class. Guerrero describes her middle school as a turbulent learning environment marked by physical altercations, teen pregnancies, and serious behavioral problems. As Guerrero notes, her classmates were not inherently bad, but rather, discouraged: “They’d given up on themselves. They were caught in a cycle of poverty and low expectations. When parents have little education, and struggle to keep food on the table, the American Dream feels pretty unreachable” (46).

Guerrero describes struggles that affect many first-generation Americans. For example, in Chapter 3, she recounts having to act as a translator for her parents, neither of whom know English well. She translates everything from household bills to ingredients on food packages. She also accompanies her parents to doctors’ appointments to explain the physician’s instructions, as well as translating a thick packet of legal documents from the fake lawyer. In other words, Mami and Papi’s poor language skills force Guerrero to assume adult responsibilities at an early age. She continues to be mature beyond her years after her mother’s deportation, as evidenced by her refusal to move to Colombia: “I was so scared that my dad and brother might kill each other. I thought I needed to play mediator, the way I’d seen Mami do for so long. I couldn’t relocate. I needed to keep my remaining family in America intact” (52).

Several aspects of the opening chapters foreshadow later parts of the book. For example, Guerrero’s passion for performing is on full display in Chapter 2, gesturing to her chosen career path later in the book. She sings at the dinner table every night, belting out songs by Selena, Whitney Houston, and other favorites. Her parents actively encourage their daughter’s love of performing with applause and demands for more songs. Another example of foreshadowing appears in Chapter 4. Guerrero describes harming herself when she acts out, a behavior tied in a complex way to her Catholic faith: “If I, say, rolled my eyes at my teacher, I’d rush home, lock the bathroom door, cry, and then slap myself or pull my hair. It was my way of doling out punishment on myself before God could step in and do it” (44). These early instances of self-harm resonate with the cutting and suicide attempt Guerrero outlines in later chapters.

Throughout the opening chapters, Guerrero describes feeling like she has a foot in two different worlds, a common emotion for children of immigrants. Although she has never been to Colombia, her parents expose her to the country’s cuisine, music, and traditions. She identifies with Latinx culture more broadly through language and celebrations, such as quinceañeras. Living in a Latinx neighborhood helps Guerrero feel connected to her parents’ homeland, as do the stories they share about their childhoods and extended family. Despite her strong ties to Colombia, however, Guerrero identifies primarily as an American. Her reaction to Mami’s request to move to Colombia in Chapter 4 makes this abundantly clear:

I’d never even fathomed the idea of a life away from Boston. Away from America. Away from the only country I’d ever lived in. Although I’d grown up hearing plenty about my parents’ homeland, it felt more like a concept than a real place; it was a world far, far away, one we couldn’t even visit because of my parents’ in-limbo status (51).

Family separation is difficult for all parties, but it is particularly challenging for children. Guerrero’s mother misses important moments in her life, including puberty. Mami’s absence leads to many awkward conversations with Papi, who takes Guerrero to buy her first bra and explains how to dispose of sanitary napkins. Mami’s multiple deportations leads Guerrero to have abandonment issues, which she carries into adulthood. The topic of abandonment, like so many in the book’s opening chapters, is decidedly bleak. However, Guerrero breaks up the serious content with upbeat anecdotes and happy memories, such as her luau-themed birthday party, which improves the book’s readability.