New Exhibit

New Exhibit

I’m happy to announce that the next exhibit for Immigrant Me is scheduled. It’ll exhibit at Ann Foxworthy Gallery, October–December 2020. The gallery is on the campus of Allan Hancock College in Santa María, CA. The gallery director, Laura-Susan Thomas is excited to...
My Mission

My Mission

You might know that Immigrant Me was a solo exhibit at the Fresno Art Museum, January – June 2018 (above photo). It featured 25 hand-drawn portraits, each with a short biography of the person. I aimed to share the positive side of immigration and I feel great...
Torn Apart

Torn Apart

This week, I bring you a different kind of story. This one deals with the tragic side of immigration, focusing on the border with Mexico. While I prefer to focus on stories of success, it’s also important to be aware that some who attempt to find a better life...
Crossing the Border

Crossing the Border

“Are we in the United States, now?” “Keep running!” My dad urged me, in Spanish. We were crossing the widest road that I had ever seen. This one had multiple lanes and cars zoomed faster than in any at my home town. In the grassy divide of the freeway, we waited for a...
Javier Patiño: an American Immigrant

Javier Patiño: an American Immigrant

Javier Patiño was born in Sanger, California. So, how is he an immigrant? Well, this brings up interesting element about immigration.  While he was infant, his parents returned to their native Mexico. They settled in Morelia, the capital of Michoacán, where they...
White Privilege: An Armenian’s Perspective

White Privilege: An Armenian’s Perspective

The San Joaquín Valley is a flat land, in the middle of California. Almond, pistachio and orange orchards as well as vineyards and melon, onion and tomato fields sprawl across the landscape. The 99 is an asphalt artery, stretching almost the entire length of valley,...
You’re no Longer Mexican

You’re no Longer Mexican

“You’re no longer Mexican; you are pocho,” asserted Antonio in Spanish. He was a family friend who had also recently immigrated. Antonio had asked me if I was learning English. Proudly, I said yes, and added that I knew my numbers up to 100, colors,...
When is the First Time You Felt American?

When is the First Time You Felt American?

At first, America was a puzzle. I had to figure it out and find a way to fit myself into it. The pieces were made up of various aspects of life: language, customs, friendships. Because I spoke no words in English, I could not grasp where to start. So, at school, I...
Marcos Dorado: My Immigrant Story (Part 1)

Marcos Dorado: My Immigrant Story (Part 1)

Life In MexicoI thought I’d start with full disclosure about myself, given that I’m featuring immigrants. I was born in Mexico. My family and I, left Totatiche, Jalisco, in 1974 when I was five. We crossed the border at Tijuana, in late February. Two days later, we...