Review for "Dear America: Notes of an Undocumented Citizen" by Jose Antonio Vargas (2018)
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
This is a great book. It is about life as an immigrant, but it is not about politics. Through his connection to journalism, Vargas wrote an op-ed in 2011 outing himself as undocumented. He also wrote a Time magazine cover story on the subject in 2012.
“Dear America” is mostly a story about the author, Jose Antonio Vargas, whose mother hastily put him on a plane from the Philippines to join his grandparents in America at 12 years old. He grows up in California and does not realize until he attempts to apply for a driver’s license that the paperwork provided by his grandfather was fake. He confides in several trusted colleagues and administrators, who eventually get him to college and into several prestigious journalism gigs, despite his undocumented status.
Vargas explores how the “path” to citizenship does not exist for him and many, many other people. He cannot simply apply for legal citizenship, because he came here illegally and risks deportation. Leaving the U.S. and returning to the Philippines effectively bans him from coming back for 10 years, and even then, approval for U.S. citizenship is not guaranteed. He could attempt to pull off a sham marriage (i.e., marrying a U.S. citizen for a green card), but Vargas refuses to do this because he is gay. As a result, he discusses a sense of constant homelessness even though he considers America his country. Many aspects of American life are continually out of reach for him because he is undocumented. Though he pays taxes through his job, in many states, he cannot drive or legally work. He cannot travel overseas and has been effectively cut off from his extended family. He also faces constant fear of detainment and deportation, which he goes through later on in the book.
Overall, this is a short book that puts a human face on the argument around illegal immigration, which is far more complex than building walls and talk about caravans. What does it mean to be an American? If it is simply a matter of being born on U.S. soil, then I, as a ‘natural’ resident, did not “do” anything to earn my status. Why do we as citizens feel the need to make people like the author do the same? Lots of complex arguments here, many of which have no quick answers.
Definitely recommend this book.
Review for "We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy" by Ta-Nehisi Coates (to be published on 3 October 2017)
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Great book, I tell ya…
When I heard that Ta-Nehisi Coates was writing another book, I signed up to read it on NetGalley with lightning quickness. I also read his writings elsewhere such as The Atlantic, Twitter. Matter of fact, I’ll usually drop everything I’m doing to read Mr. Coates because his perspective and words on the most pressing issues of our time are impeccable.
If you aren’t reading Ta-Nehisi Coates then you probably should be. Like “Between the World and Me,” “We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy” is a searing testimony to the ongoing quagmire of race in the United States: to high hopes, to failed promises, to the uncertainty of what lies ahead. These are a collection of eight essays that appeared in The Atlantic (one for each of the eight years that President Obama was in office) with a short preface added by Coates before each, which give the reading more perspective and insight.
Do read this. It should be required reading in all schools and universities.
[Note: A free digital copy of this book was provided by the publisher and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.]
Happy 4th! Currently sitting in my den, curled up with my pooch, watching b&w episodes of The Twilight Zone marathon on Syfy. 🙂
Review for “So Sad Today” by Melissa Broder (2016)
Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
*puts book down*
These essays revel in their TMI-ness. If you aren’t ready for pages and pages of Broder’s musings on vomit, shit, nose-picking, masturbation, and the particulars of just about every kind of sex imaginable, you probably aren’t ready for this book. For me, the overshare was a bit annoying (I skipped the vomit fetish essay, no thnx), but I did manage to find some gems here that I liked. Her essay on working for a tantric sex guru was hilarious, and the very last essay on her anxiety disorder was quite moving.
The problem here is that I can’t take this book seriously. For me, the intended shock value of these essays takes away from the seriousness of this book as a whole. Toward the end, when Broder drops the witty one liners and gets real about her afflictions, the book actually becomes (dare I say it?) interesting. It shouldn’t be that way. Or should it? Either way, I think I’ll stick with her poetry. Or just reading her tweets.