The Guardians

“I’ve been fighting to keep my sobrino since then, but my brother gets terco about it and keeps insisting on taking him back to the other side. What for? I tell him. Because he’s Mexican, Rafa says. As if I’m not because I choose to live on this side.”

This novel is invested in exploring the complexities of identities in the Borderlands. Because families have complex identities rooted in American, Mexican, and even Indigenous communities, Regina does not think it is accurate to categorize anyone as solely Mexican or American. This is reflected in Castillo’s use of Spanish throughout the novel, which is not only integrated into English sentences but also eschews the common practice of italicizing foreign-language words. This depicts the two languages as part of a unified linguistic culture. Here, sobrino means “nephew,” and terco means “stubborn.”

“These lands, this unmerciful desert, it belonged to us first, the Mexicans. Before that it belonged to the Apaches.”

This passage speaks to the complex and contested history of the Borderlands. The region has been claimed by various groups, and identity there is shifting and multifaceted. Because portions of Texas and New Mexico were once Mexican, Regina feels that, at least culturally, they are as much hers as they are American. Yet she also understands that before the area was Mexican, it was inhabited by Apache people.

“Communism was the government’s number-one enemy, and students, Black Panthers, the American Indian Movement, and anyone else who spoke up, close seconds.” 

The Guardians is primarily interested in the micro-world of the family and the experiences of Chicanos in the Borderlands, but it is also steeped in civil rights-era and social justice history, which was foundational within the movement for Chicano rights in the US. Miguel draws parallels between the struggles of African Americans, Indigenous peoples, Chicanos, and communists, and his dedication to the legacy of 1960s-era protest movements helps to ground the novel within Chicano history.

“My saludos to you and the Lord, my Father in Heaven. Please ask Him to look down kindly on me. I am trying to be good.”

These lines speak to Gabo’s characterization as well as to the way that religion is used as a motif within the novel. Gabo, unlike his other family members, is a devout Catholic. Catholicism is a key part of his identity, and he feels connected to his broader community through his faith.

“I’m one of the few people around here who still calls himself Chicano. A lot of people don’t like that word. They don’t get it. They think it means gangbanging.”

The Guardians is a classic work of Chicano literature, and characters like Miguel help the author illustrate the complex politics of Chicano identity. For Miguel, being Chicano means being a proud Mexican American and fighting for the rights of Chicanos and other people of color. While he argues that white Americans have turned “Chicano” into a slur, he holds fast to its original meaning.

“For years Miguel’s greatest enemy has been a sleeping giant. The sleeping giant is Ascarco, a smelter giant which was closed down in 1999 after more than a century of belching fumes into our skies.”

Social justice movements in American Chicano communities are one of this novel’s key areas of thematic interest, and Miguel is deeply invested in various socially conscious causes such as the labor and environmental movements. The disproportionate impact that industry has had on under-resourced communities and communities of color in the American Southwest has long been at the core of various grassroots movements in the region. Risks to both workers’ rights and the environment are embodied by the reference to Ascarco, a real-life mining, smelting, and refining company, and its polluting practices.

“Miguel’s ostrich boots and Stetson did cause quite a stir in church.”

Miguel is a complex character. Although a devoted teacher and a passionate advocate for social and environmental justice, he is also vain and takes care with his appearance. Both his ostrich boots and his Stetson cowboy hat are cultural signifiers for the American Southwest.

“Su reverencia, I am 16 years old and already having a spiritual crisis. But I am not like other teenagers. I know that. My father is missing. My mother has been taken from me.”

Gabo is a deeply religious individual, and he derives comfort from his faith. Beginning this quote with su reverencia—“your reverence”—situates his faith as specifically Chicano Catholicism. The death of his mother and the disappearance of his father both weigh on him heavily, but he tries to remain positive and pours his energy into prayer. Although he notes his “spiritual crisis,” there is a sense in which Gabo is actually quite grounded. At 16, he is already sure that priesthood is his future.

“How many times had my Tía Regina begged my father not to return to Mexico, to take his chances and stay? Santo Querído. But Mexico had a pull on my papá. It was his country.”

Identity is shifting and complex in the Borderlands, and each character in the novel defines themselves differently. Rafa identifies as entirely Mexican, whereas his sister sees “Mexican” and “American” as inadequate categories: She has lived in both countries and realizes that there was a time when the two countries, in her area, were one. Miguel identifies as Chicano in part because of his dedication to Chicano social justice causes, and Gabo taps into a sense of his place within Hispanic history through his faith. This blended identity is clear in his use of Spanish to refer to his relatives (papá, tía) and the exclamation Santo Querído, which translates roughly to “dear Lord!”

“One time, back when we were crossing into California, mi hermana became so dehydrated that we were sure she was going to die. My papa had to carry her. The coyote just left us out there, having no use for us once he had his money.”

Border crossings in this novel are fraught and perilous. They speak to the lived experience of Mexicans and Mexican Americans whose lives are marked by precarity. Gabo loses both of his parents to border crossings, and the difficulty that he experiences as a result of these losses becomes a defining aspect of his teenage years. His family’s care is juxtaposed with the coyote’s coldness through language—while Gabo thinks of his sister as mi hermana, the coyote silently abandons them.

“Old people liked to talk about el bandido Pancho Villa turned revolucionario.”

History is contested in this region, and this novel grounds itself within the fierce debates that still rage over Spain’s colonizing project and the US’s invasion of what was then Mexican territory. Between Hispanic and Indigenous groups, there remain deep divides over the interpretation of history, and even within Mexican American communities, there are identitarian conflicts between individuals who, like Miguel, identify as Chicano and those who prefer the term “Hispanic.” This contrast is reflected through the juxtaposed characterizations of bandido (outlaw) and revolucionario (revolutionary).

“I am not going to be one more invisible Mexican here picking up dirty dishes in restaurants, my papa told my aunt the last time she asked him to stay.”

“American,” “Mexican American,” and “Mexican” mean different things to different characters. Rafa identifies as Mexican and does not want to become American or even live and work in the US. He feels a distinct sense of dehumanization when he is in the US, represented by the stereotype presented here about Mexicans performing menial labor.

“Every time I go to the Grupo Beta office in Juárez and wait for La Señorita Edwina to talk to me, I stare at that sign on the wall like it’s a snake getting ready to bite. ‘The search for the American dream could be your worst nightmare.’”

This passage, along with others that detail the activities of nationalist, anti-migrant militias who patrol the border, grounds the novel within the history of the US-Mexico border in the area around El Paso and provides a realistic background for the narrative. There are both non-governmental organizations that support migrant human rights and organizations that seek to stem the flow of movement across the border, symbolized by the propaganda poster described here.

“Getting legal status was easier said than done, naturally. We had to get our papers in order. That’s all any immigrant in the world wants, to get her papers in order. To officially become a person.”

This passage speaks to the kind of anti-immigration rhetoric that is pervasive within US public discourse: Regina has absorbed the idea that migrants are not fully “people” until their immigration status is entirely legal. It is, in part, this attitude that Rafa cites as his rationale for remaining in Mexico. Like his sister, he does not want to be perceived as less than human. The use of “papers” here to represent humanity is an example of synecdoche.

“It’s hard to come up with true figures, she said, but we estimate that maybe three thousand immigrants try to cross in a single day.”

This passage’s numbers accurately reflect migration statistics during the era when The Guardians was written, grounding the novel within the lived experience of real-life migrants who crossed (and in many cases re-crossed) the US-Mexico border. This is an example of verisimilitude, deepening the novel’s realism.

“When the minutemen announced that they were coming from Arizona to Sunland Park to set up a new chapter in our town, my neighbors and I had to have an urgent meeting.”

This passage speaks to racism in the American Southwest. The minutemen are an anti-immigration militia that hopes to stem the tide of cross-border migration. Their philosophy is xenophobic, prejudicial, and rooted in racist isolationism. Their name is an example of irony since it references the militias of the American Revolution, which are typically associated with freedom.

“At el mercado, Gabo decided to get some huaraches. He put them on and gave his good zapatos to the first pobre vato he ran across.”

This passage illustrates Gabo’s generosity and kindness. He strives to live a Christ-like life, and here, he is willing to give his own shoes away to someone less fortunate. Although Regina feels that Gabo’s religiosity is a coping mechanism, Gabo does demonstrate a true commitment to his beliefs through both his faith and his various acts of charity. The Spanish words here create verisimilitude, rooting the story in the specific Mexican American context by referencing huaraches, a specific type of sandal. Pobre vato is slang—vato is typically used in this part of the US but is less common elsewhere—and the phrase roughly translates to “poor guy.”

“The term ‘dirty war’ goes back to the 1970s when the Mexican government started using brute force to stamp out both armed and peaceful opposition. It’s pretty widely known now how much training and influence actually came from the US government to quash any and all kinds of so-called communist threats.”

Miguel is working on a book about US intervention in Latin America, and his interest in the “dirty wars” speaks to his deep commitment to social justice and various liberation movements. He is a character who is invested in pointing out and fighting injustice, and he is adept at connecting regional oppression and conflict with inequality in and around El Paso and Cabuche. Castillo uses his academic project to inject historical exposition into the novel.

“Poor Mexico: So far from God, so close to the United States.”

Miguel speaks this line while elucidating the connection between Mexican cartels and the American consumers who fuel the drug trade. Although unattributed here, this is a famous quotation from 19th-century Mexican leader Porfirio Diaz. Additionally, So Far From God is the title of another of Ana Castillo’s novels. She and many other writers have seized upon this idea to explain the influence that US policy and practice have had on violence and drug and human trafficking in Mexico.

“When I was a young widow, me, Mamá, and Rafa used to pick chiles all up and down this area. It was where Junior’s people were from. I didn’t have much to do with them after he died, but we still settled here. We were in the chile capital of the world.”

This novel is deeply connected to place, and the work that Regina does picking chilis symbolizes the food, culture, and agricultural nature of southern New Mexico. Each of the characters in this novel derives their identity in part from the Borderlands region that they call home, and Regina feels a strong connection to both food and farming.

“The governor of Chihuahua who was in office when the first murder victims turned up actually blamed the girls, stating that they had asked for it by being out at night. When he was reminded that the girls worked the night shift at the maquilas, he still blamed the victims.”

This passage grounds the novel in the history of the Borderlands area in and around El Paso/Juárez. Between the early 1990s and the beginning of the 2010s, there were at least 500 femicides in Juárez. Many of these women were garment workers, and their murders are now thought to be in part a casualty of the cartel violence. They are also a reflection of cultural values that privilege men over women. The novel’s discussion of these murders and Crucita’s kidnapping speak to the narrative’s interest in both social and gender justice, and the inclusion of this passage is meant to raise awareness of real issues in the Borderlands as a region. The reference to maquilas, or garment factories, further grounds these events in this specific cultural context.

“Like Crucita always said, I was a man who couldn’t let himself feel.”

Miguel is a complex character. Although he has a genuine interest in equality and social justice and has real compassion for his students, he struggles in his personal life. Crucita ascribes much of his difficulties to machismo, and ultimately, Miguel comes to admit that he does not have a particularly healthy understanding of masculinity.

“The blood-dimmed tide is loosed and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned. I quote Yeats’ poem The Second Coming out loud.”

This passage speaks to Miguel’s characterization. An intellectual, Miguel is interested in both history and literature. Here, he quotes a noteworthy poem by Yeats to help him understand and explain the violence that plagues his community. Written at the end of World War I and at the dawn of the Irish Revolution, Yeats’s poem reflects on the role of violence in a world that is permanently changed. Quoting this poem also links The Guardians to other works of literature that allude to “The Second Coming,” like Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, which borrows its title from the poem.