International Journal of Intercultural Relations 24 (2000) 687±705 www.elsevier.com/locate/ijintrel
Reclaiming the ``Other'': toward a Chicana feminist critical perspective p Lisa A. Flores* University of Utah, Department of Communication, 255 S. Central Campus Dr., Rm 2400, Salt Lake City, UT 84112, USA
Abstract This essay contributes to the dialogue on methodology and oers preliminary suggestions about what constitutes a Chicana feminist critical perspective. In doing so, I heed the call of Chicana feminist AnzalduÂa (AnzalduÂa, G. (1990), Haciendo caras, Una entrada). In G. AnzalduÂa (Ed.), Making face, making soul Haciendo caras: Creative and critical perspectives by feminists of color (pp. xv±xxvii). San Francisco; aunt lute who argues for mestizaje theories that cross disciplinary boundaries and bring Chicana feminist voices into dialogues on identity and power relations. In my hopes to speak across methods, I highlight the narrative, which has implications for scholars in various disciplines. I argue that a Chicana feminist critical perspective on narrative highlights two central principles, decolonization and intersectionality, which inform Chicanisma. 7 2000 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. Keywords: Chicana feminist; Method; Narrative; Identity
This essay is drawn from my dissertation (University of Georgia, 1994), directed by Celeste M. Condit. An earlier version of this essay was presented at the Central States Communication Association Convention, April 1995. * Tel.: +1-801-585-1887; fax: +1-801-585-6255. E-mail address: lisa.¯
[email protected] (L.A. Flores). p
0147-1767/00/$ - see front matter 7 2000 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. PII: S 0 1 4 7 - 1 7 6 7 ( 0 0 ) 0 0 0 2 2 - 5
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1. Introduction For much of US history, Chicanas have not existed outside of our communities. Our stories have not been included in literary anthologies, our books have not been found in mainstream bookstores, and our perspectives have not been included in discussions in college classrooms. Indeed, still today, many people have no context for the word `Chicana'. Even within Chicano communities, Chicanas have often been invisible or silent (Chabram±Dernersesian, 1992; Galindo & Gonzales, 1999; Rebolledo, 1995). This invisibility has had multiple rami®cations, one of which is the lack of theories and methods that address and represent Chicana feminism, or what I will also call in this essay, Chicanisma. In recent years, scholars of color and white feminists have argued that existing theories and methods can not, on their own, be used to address adequately research questions surrounding race, ethnicity, and, more broadly, dierence (e.g., Collins, 1998; Galindo & Gonzales, 1999; Haraway, 1991; Harding, 1991; hooks, 1994; Hurtado, 1996; Rebolledo, 1995; Sandoval, 1998; Smith, 1998). Such calls re¯ect growing awareness of the political nature of knowledge and inquiry. At the forefront of the move to expand conceptions of knowledge and to oer new theories and methods have been feminists. Within women's studies and feminist theory, attention has been directed toward the need to develop critical and analytic perspectives that include women. While these perspectives have not advocated complete dismissal of critical theories that stem from patriarchal perspectives, feminist theorists and critics have addressed the inability of some traditional critical approaches to recognize dierent readings of texts. Early feminists, such as Millet (1969), in her groundbreaking work Sexual Politics, argued for re-visions of ``great texts.'' From that time forward, feminist scholars have built revisionary theory. Showalter (1985b) has argued that ``Feminist criticism has shown that women readers and critics bring dierent perceptions and expectations to their literary experiences, and has insisted that women have also told the important stories of our culture'' (p. 3). Similarly, Donovan (1989) argues that women's experiences of oppression impact upon our reaction toward understanding of the texts which aect our lives. In this vein, we see feminist theorists recognizing the need to question what we study and to bring our own understandings and experiences to our analyses (de Lauretis, 1986; Gilbert, 1985; Modleski, 1986). Kolodny (1985), in her discussion of feminist literary criticism, notes that ``We appropriate meaning from a text according to what we need (or desire), or in other words, according to the critical assumptions or predispositions . . . that we bring to it'' (p. 153). Signi®cant advances have been brought forward by feminist scholars in the establishment of feminist critical perspectives. Such work has made clear the idea that alternative analyses can give insight, and such insights often clarify the workings of gender. The need for feminist criticism to challenge inherent sexism is clear (Fetterley, 1978; Robinson, 1985; Showalter, 1985a). The call for expanded visions and versions of theory and method has brought
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into question our understandings of knowledge and truth, and thus has led to various feminist epistemological challenges. From cultural feminist arguments that women's ``ways of knowing'' are gendered (e.g., Belenky, Clinchy, Goldberger & Tarule, 1986; Gilligan, 1982), to standpoint theories which center experience and perspective (e.g., Collins, 1990), feminist scholars have brought attention to the ways in which our theories and methods re¯ect particular political positions. The increased attention to the role of gender in the construction of knowledge then created spaces for women of color to continue pushing the boundaries. Recognizing the in¯uence of race and class, women of color have issued further challenges. Indeed, feminists of color have leveled charges of essentialism against much Western feminist theory, arguing that claims about women's experiences rely on a concept of a universal woman that is, in fact, grounded in the experiences of white women. Black women were among the ®rst in the US to note the need for theories and practices that integrated race and gender (Combahee, 1979, 1983; hooks, 1981; Hull & Smith, 1982). As hooks (1981) explains, many Black women were unconvinced by a feminist argument that positioned sexism as the foundational oppression. Collins (1990) similarly identi®ed the ways in which the speci®c experiences of Black women point us toward an Afrocentric feminist epistemology. Their voices were joined by those of other women of color, who often argued that feminist theory either presumed a sisterhood that transcended borders or adopted an additive model in which gender and race were treated as mutually exclusive experiences that could simply be combined (e.g., Trinh, 1989; Uttal, 1990; Yamada, 1983). Chicana feminists have been very involved in this dialogue, arguing quite strongly that existing theories and models are inadequate in addressing the issues that Chicanas face. SaldõÂ var-Hull (1991) contests the universality of the notion of sisterhood in feminist theory and argues that the term allows for the absence of Chicanas and other women of color in feminist theory. Advocating a color consciousness rather than a color blindness, SaldõÂ var-Hull draws attention to the simultaneity of race, gender, and class. PeÂrez (1993) notes the colonial repercussions that emerge when Chicanas draw solely on Western theories. And AlarcoÂn (1988) presents a shift in perspective through her discussion of multiple subjectivity. The need to bring in those voices which have traditionally been muted or silenced is another concern among Chicana feminists (Rebolledo, 1988; Yarbro-Bejarano, 1988). Many of the changes advocated by Chicana feminists are being developed in their own work. These critical and theoretical shifts are crucial as we guide our theoretical and methodological changes across disciplines. Recent years have seen an increase in the amount of research and writing on Chicana feminism in many disciplines, and the interdisciplinary nature of Chicana feminism has facilitated the growth of a number of projects. And yet, because we write in and for so many disciplines, using a range of methods and theories, we lack a unifying discourse that identi®es central assumptions and outlines possible applications. As Garcia (1998) writes, ``Like other academic disciplines, Chicana/o Studies faces the challenges of theory construction, methodological innovations, and an on-going critique and reconceptualization of existing paradigms'' (p. 109).
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Chicana feminists across disciplines face similar problems in that in many/most disciplines, mainstream theories and methods cannot adequately address many of the research questions that concern Chicana feminists. In such disciplines as Anthropology, Education, English, Law, Psychology, and Sociology, Chicana feminists have been challenging the boundaries and advancing new paradigms (Delgado Bernal, 1998; Hurtado, 1996; T. MartõÂ nez, 1996; Montoya, 1994; Romero, 1997; Russel y Rodriguez, 1998; SaldõÂ var-Hull, 1991). This essay contributes to the dialogue on methodology and oers preliminary suggestions about what constitutes a Chicana feminist critical perspective. In doing so, I heed the call of Chicana feminist AnzalduÂa (1990b) who argues for mestizaje theories that cross disciplinary boundaries and bring Chicana feminist voices into dialogues on identity and power relations. Sandoval (1998) notes the need for interdisciplinary theories and methods; following her argument, I highlight the narrative which has implications for scholars in various disciplines. I argue that a Chicana feminist critical perspective on narrative highlights two central principles, decolonization and intersectionality, which inform Chicanisma. To illustrate this argument, I begin by reviewing the centrality of narratives in Chicana feminism. I then identify and explain a number of critical practices that can inform a Chicana feminist critical perspective, each of which speaks to and about narratives. Finally, in the conclusion I call for further explorations of Chicana feminist critical practices across disciplines. 2. Narratives, storytelling, resistance, and survival For women of color, traditional forms of knowledge and expression that re¯ect our lives and experiences are rarely available. Discussions of gendered raced identity that ring true for women of color are becoming increasingly obtainable, but are still not prevalent (e.g., AnzalduÂa, 1990a; Hull, Scott, & Smith, 1982; Martin, 1990; Moraga & AnzalduÂa, 1983). For women of color, the best sources about our lives, experiences, and histories often come from other women of color. Because women of color still face institutional and personal obstacles to getting our work in forms that can be made available to a mass public, women of color have to turn to other means of expression and be open to other types of knowledge. Walker (1983), in her work on her mother's garden, illustrates how women's creativity, when denied formal outlets such as poetry, emerges in less conventional ways, such as in ¯ower gardens. Historically, literacy among Mexicanas, Chicanas, and other women of color cannot be assumed; consequently, oral histories have been central (James, 1994; Rebolledo, 1995; Rebolledo & Rivera, 1993). Even for those women who are literate, the material conditions needed for writing are scarce. Time, living conditions favorable for writing, ®nancial resources that enable the time for writing, and freedom from the guilt that is implied in the sel®shness of writing are not takens-for-granted among Chicanas, women of color, and other disenfranchised groups (Trinh, 1989). Beyond the real material conditions that
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prohibit or at least make writing dicult, there are also the feelings of doubt, feelings that no one values the writing of third world women; such feelings make commitment to writing more dicult (AnzalduÂa, 1981; gossett, 1983; Moraga, 1983). Personal narratives, both oral and written, have been and continue to be a means of resistance available to Chicanas, Latinas, and other marginalized groups. These personal narratives perform the ``everyday'' acts of resistance that are often characteristic of groups with limited access to traditional forms of power (de Certeau, 1988). From acts of manipulating power structures by creating women's communities, integrating public and private, and maintaining culturally speci®c modes of mourning, Chicanas and Mexicanas have long recognized the everyday strategies of resistance as those to which they had most access (GonzaÂlez, 1988; GutieÂrrez-Jones, 1995). Among the everyday strategies of resistance used by Chicanas, is the story. Narratives become a common tactic of resistance partly because of their accessibility. Orality is a type of communication that does not necessitate demands for linear structure, availability of pencil and paper, a kitchen table on which to write, or literacy in an accepted form. Moreover, it is a form that brings embodiment to narrative. As Corey (1996) explains, ``When we tell our stories with our voices and bodies, we become one with our own stories. . . . When we turn to speech as our medium, we have at our disposal, any time, a text we can share with others'' (p. 68). Telling stories, in any number of oral and written forms (journals, oral, poetry), is a way to maintain and assert one's self identity or cultural identity (Quintana, 1996; Rebolledo & Rivera, 1993). Narratives contain in them a dimension of oppositionality, in that through stories, communities create discourses about themselves. Through stories, told in the vernacular of the people, the marginalized and disenfranchised select those portraits of themselves that they want in circulation; their stories can at least compete with if not replace dominant representations with which they do not agree (Corey, 1996; Sandoval, 1999). Additionally, such narratives are a means of contesting, and thus resisting, social determination (Corey, 1996; Montoya, 1994). Both the act of story telling itself as well as the story as a text that becomes available to others are resistive strategies in that the stories prevent the forgetting of history (Quintana, 1996). As Trinh (1989) explains, stories have at least two dimensions, the present story, which is often the story of the teller, and the extended story, which is the story of a people, over time (p. 123). She argues, ``Each story is at once a fragment and a whole; a whole within a whole. And the same story has always been changing'' (p. 123). Through Trinh's explanation of the circularity of stories, we see the story as not just a moment in time, but also a contribution to a growing genealogy, that has begun before and will continue after. This sentiment is echoed by Moraga (1993) who writes that Chicano/a art, including poetry, theater, and narrative, is an art ``in dialogue with its community'' (p. 57). Storytelling from parent to child or within families also becomes a means of educating children about the kinds of prejudice and discrimination they
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will face. Montoya (1994) recalls learning from her mother about the need to appear well-groomed so as to avoid racist comments about dirty Mexicans. As their ancestors used wills and oral histories as testaments to their cultures and their lives, Chicanas today can use personal, family, and cultural stories to maintain their history and guide their future (Castillo, 1995). In the face of growing cultural destruction and eradication, Chicana feminists can become the cultural scribes, using their own narratives to counter mainstream stories and to record their histories and knowledge. The inclusion of their histories serves to ensure that both Latinas/os and dominant America remember an often brutal history. AnzalduÂa's (1987) poem, ``Greasers,'' ®lls such a function. In it, AnzalduÂa tells the history of Mexicanas and Chicanas. Her poem which depicts the rape of Mexicanas and Chicanas by Anglos forces readers to focus attention on that which is often left out. By doing so AnzalduÂa contributes to the genealogical history of Chicanas and Mexicanas. Similarly, stories which begin with Chicana history, experiences, and reality, build a Chicana history. Chicanas and Mexicanas speaking their lives can, as F. GonzaÂlez (1998) notes, assert ``agency to create subversive narrative to challenge the representations that render Mexicanas vulnerable and dismissed from US civic life'' (p. 97). As such, they become today's scribes. They create new histories that for other Chicanas and Mexicanas contribute to the community of Chicanas, providing guidance for how to live in an Anglo dominated and/or a patriarchal world, and they create histories that can become part of US history, ensuring cultural survival simply by Chicanas and Mexicanas refusing to be left out. These acts provide what GutieÂrrez-Jones (1995) calls ``historical correction'' (p. 41). In addition to their potential to correct history and create genealogies, narratives also have resistive power and liberatory potential in their shifting of insider/outsider boundaries and destablizing of the dominant order. Cultural narratives, as stated above, are often told in the vernacular, becoming evocative within the marginalized culture (Ono & Sloop, 1995). Center and margin positions are put in question when the language of the culture is inaccessible to outsiders, for those who now have the knowledge to understand are those traditionally thought of as ``on the margins.'' That vernacular, which helps ensure that the stories represent the world view of the marginalized cultures, positions dominant culture on the outside trying to listen in and understand (Corey, 1996; F. GonzaÂlez, 1998; Madison, 1993; Montoya, 1994). When marginalized groups maintain their languages in their stories, they claim power. Finally, narratives are a means of sharing power within a culture. Traditionally, for Chicanas, stories have been used between and among women to show the power that they do have and can exert in the world around them (Rebolledo, 1995). Within stories are often subtle or explicit attacks on Anglo culture (Rebolledo, 1995). These stories, situated historically, delineate the lived experiences. In the generational retelling comes the power of transmission, women teaching women how to use their stories for their lives (Trinh, 1989, p. 134). In these narratives are guides for resisting dominant culture (SaldõÂ var, 1990).
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3. Toward a Chicana feminist critical perspective Narratives are a central part of Chicana feminism and Chicana feminists, across disciplines and methods, turn to narratives as sources of knowledge and insight. Given the importance of narratives, I oer a Chicana feminist critical perspective that outlines both general principles and critical practices that can guide the Chicana feminist scholar. Each of these critical practices highlights ways of thinking about, identifying, and assessing narratives. Recognizing that what I oer is not complete, I maintain that two general principles inform a Chicana feminist critical perspective. The ®rst principle, decolonization, includes the goal of using academic and personal writings to challenge the neo-colonial practices which shape the lives of Chicanas/os. Working in tandem with decolonization is intersectionality, or a practice of recognizing the interconnectedness of gender, race, class, and heterosexuality. While there are numerous possible ways of advancing these two principles, I identify three critical practices: voice(s), personal experience, and naming. These three critical practices are among the many that advance a Chicana feminist critical perspective aimed at decolonization and intersectionality. Because the two main principles inform and shape each other, I discuss them together throughout my explanation of voice(s), personal experience, and naming. In doing so, I hope to model the practices as I review them. The lives of Chicanas are marked by a history of colonization. Beginning with the Spanish conquest of the Americas, to the forced inclusion in the US after the US Ð Mexican war, people of Indian and Mexican descent have seen their land, their culture, and their lives controlled by others (Elenes, 1997; GutieÂrrez, 1995; Meier & Ribera, 1997). Citizenship within the US did not bring the end of colonization, as Mexican Americans and Chicanas/os have been denied their language and their histories and have been segregated through economic deprivation. Existing often as ``los olvidados'' or the ``invisible people,'' Chicanas/ os and Mexican Americans have been situated at the margins of society (Perea, 1995). Chicana feminism responds to this history through a principle I label decolonization. One important practice of decolonization is replacing silence with voice. Because Chicana feminists have had few traditional outlets in which to be heard, central of focus to a Chicana feminist critical perspective is creating and maintaining voice. As hooks (1989) notes, ``Oppressed people resist by identifying themselves as subjects, by de®ning their reality, shaping their new identity, naming their history, telling their story'' (p. 43). Thus, the subjects of Chicana feminist critical analyses are often the voices of Chicanas. For instance, Rebolledo (1988) argues that the Chicana feminist critic is a ``facilitator: reproducing and making known the texts of our authors'' (p. 132). For Rebolledo, this function is carried out by including large sections of the work she is analyzing in her writing, thus creating a dialogue between herself and the writer she is studying. Rebolledo is not alone in her desire to allow the voice of Chicana authors to speak through her work. Indeed much of Chicana feminism is designed to assert Chicana identities, in part by recognizing and sharing the voices of Chicanas
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(AlarcoÂn, 1988; Chabram-Dernersesian, 1992; Herrera-Sobek, 1988; SaÂnchez, 1985). These voices and stories are often used as a means to create a sense of community with other Chicanas and other women of color. Moraga (1981) says to her sister writers in This Bridge Called My Back, ``We are a family who ®rst knew each other only in our dreams, who have come together on these pages to make family a reality'' (p. 19). The Chicana identities that are expressed and built in their writings are often formed in part through relationships with other Chicanas. These writings re¯ect a deep sense of love for other Chicanas that provides a feeling of stability and community (AlarcoÂn, 1988; AnzalduÂa; 1981, 1987, 1990a; Littlebear, 1981; Viramontes, 1989; Yarbro-Bejarano, 1988). Roses (1984) argues, ``The legacy of [Chicana and Latina authors] . . . can be said to constitute a counter cultural voice which oers a testimony that the critical literature must validate. That voice deserves to be heard by an audience as numerous as that commanded by men'' (p. 103). For Ochoa (1999), this goal can be met by turning to the ``everyday'' strategies of resistance among Mexican American women. Including the testimony of a number of Mexican American women living in a small suburb of Los Angeles, Ochoa centers the voices and lives of Mexican American women as they describe the ways in which they create life amidst racism and economic struggle. This sharing of voice reveals the commitment of Chicana feminists to profess their identity through their eyes. It places Chicana feminists, marginalized by dominant and Chicano societies, at their own center, and thus disrupts the colonial practices which have erased Chicanas (ChabramDernersesian, 1993). When Chicana feminists share voice with each other in their works, they bring more Chicana feminist perspectives into the public domain, thus enhancing societal awareness of Chicana culture. Claiming and oering multiple voices, English, Spanish, personal, academic, poetic, provide not only instances of the diversity among Chicanas, but also of the ability of Chicanas to share their own narratives (Davalos, 1998; Rebolledo & Rivera, 1993). In telling stories, whether their own or other Chicanas, Chicanas become speaking subjects. The Indian woman can wail, the Chicana activist can march, the Anglicized woman can speak theory. As Chicana feminism works to embrace the mestizaje heritage, it calls out for an accounting of all cultures (AnzalduÂa, 1987; SaldõÂ var-Hull, 1991). This ¯uctuation can be seen in the common Chicana feminist practice of speaking in multiple tongues. Segura and Pesquera (1999) oer examples of the diversity that comprises Chicanisma. Introducing us to three women they interviewed, Segura and Pesquera (1999) highlight the overlap and the dierences in these women's lives and beliefs. Arguing for the importance of what she calls sitios y lenguas (sites and discourses), PeÂrez (1998) calls for cultural speci®city and multiplicity as survival strategies that mark Chicanas as Chicanas while still noting the problematics of essentialism. By shifting languages, from English to Spanish to Spanglish and dialects of Indian, and tones, from prose to poetry to academic discourse, the dierent selves that comprise Chicanas surface and speak. These voices and stories come forth as acts of political resistance that further the larger process of decolonization (Chabram-Dernersesian, 1993).
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The inclusion of multiple voices in the conversation serves to disrupt essentialist ideas of Chicana. Garcia (1990) notes that the label Chicana feminist incorporates a number of dierent beliefs. As Chicana feminism grew out of the constraints of a monolithic cultural identity de®ned by the Chicano nationalist movement and an overly Anglo representation of women by the women's movement, the need to recognize diversity and dierences among Chicana feminists has remained (Fregoso & Chabram, 1990). The Chicana feminist scholar can become one voice among many. Her position and her analysis may ring true for some Chicana feminists, but each study is one possible study and one possible interpretation. For instance, in the anthology Chicana Creativity and Criticism, Rebolledo (1988) and Yarbro-Bejarano (1988) argue with AlarcoÂn (1988) over the extent to which Chicana feminism should draw on nonChicana/o theory. Their debate, and other similar ones, become a part of the growth of Chicana feminism. The turn to multiplicity draws our attention to the second major principle, intersectionality, working with decolonization. Because Chicana feminism emerged at the margins of Chicano nationalism and white Western feminism, inherent in Chicanisma is an awareness of the limitations of mono-issue critical scholarship. Refusing to choose between a commitment to sexism or racism, Chicana feminism argues for the interconnections of gender, race, class, and sexual orientation. In starting with a premise of intersectionality, Chicana feminism recognizes the ®ction of assuming a universal experience shared by women or by Chicanas/os. Instead, as Chicana feminist critical analyses introduce the voices of Chicanas, we hear multiple voices speaking many identities. The emphasis on intersectionality informs a shift in Chicana feminism from subject to subjectivity. Challenging an essential notion of self as uni®ed and whole, Chicana feminism oers models of subjectivity that highlight the interconnections of gender, race, class, nationality, and sexual orientation. Advancing notions of hybridity which challenge the distinction between self and community, between Mexican and American, a Chicana feminist perspective disrupts dualisms by identifying the co-existence of seemingly contradictory ideas (Sandoval, 1998). For AlarcoÂn (1991), the focus on multiple identities translates into a ``theory of subjectivity'' which allows ``women of color to posit themselves as multiple-voiced subjects'' (p. 37). AnzalduÂa (1990b) labels this intersectionality ``mestizaje'' theory, a theory that exists ``in-between'' (p. 26). Demonstrating intersectionality, Delgadillo (1998) notes the ways in which Chicana authors, such as Ana Castillo, merge Christianity with native beliefs. Along with literary examples, personal narratives from authors oer insight into the complexities of Chicanisma. Montoya (1994), for instance, remembers the class markings of her childhood, such as the outdoor toilet, as well as the ¯uidity of her identity, signaled, in part, through her mother's code switching. Sosa (1999) also identi®es the moments in her life, realizing that as she spent the summer in a college dorm, her sister was working in the ®elds, and knowing that the language of her parents, Spanish, brought shame, as she watched women laughing at her mother struggle in English. These memories of how class, race, and gender shape and form each other, become the building blocks of theory in that the understandings of the
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everyday shape the de®nitions and concepts of theory. We come to understand Chicana subjectivity as complex, dynamic, and shifting (AlarcoÂn, 1995). Earlier notions of the essential Chicano self, embodied in a nationalist model, are contested with narratives that uncover the many ways in which Chicanas live Chicanisma. By emphasizing the lived experiences of everyday Chicanas/os, a Chicana feminist perspective assesses the ways in which we live in a world structured around gender, race, and class and oers the possibility of multiple homes. The emergence of Chicana subjectivities at the intersections of race, gender, class, nationality, sexual orientation, and religion shapes a critical practice that is committed to exploring the in-between spaces, too often ignored and erased by disciplinary practices. Montoya (1994) and GonzaÂlez (1998) use the metaphor of trenzas or braids to describe this practice. Both note that a Chicana feminist critical perspective is a process of constant braiding. Whether it is in combining multiple theoretical models, languages, experiences, or subject positions, Chicana feminism is a multivocal discourse that is ``complex, heterogeneous, ambiguous and liminal Ð a subject that refuses static boundaries and representations'' (Davalos, 1998, p. 26). Sandoval (1991) argues that this multiplicity creates a space for an oppositional consciousness. This oppositional consciousness draws on the intersections and in-between places so as to build a ``dierential consciousness'' that is mobile and tactical, adapting to a changing world (Sandoval 1991, pp. 14±15). The idea or shifting of multiple identity, which furthers the goal of intersectionality, allows Chicana feminism to move between cultures and allegiances (Romero, 1997). The next dimension to the Chicana feminist critical perspective that I am proposing includes an emphasis on bridging abstract theory with personal experience. The concern with the material conditions that aect the lives of Chicanas/os plays a foundational role in the articulation of theory that looks at the intersections of gender, race, and class. For Chicana feminist literary critic Yarbro-Bejarano (1988), turning to personal experience is at the base of building Chicana feminist criticism: Perhaps the most important principle of Chicana feminist criticism is the realization that the Chicana's experience as a woman is inextricable from her experience as a member of an oppressed working-class racial minority and a culture which is not the dominant culture. (p. 140) Yarbro-Bejarano is only one voice in the call for a consideration of material reality; a number of Chicana feminists argue similarly (AnzalduÂa, 1987; Rebolledo, 1988; Saldõvar-Hull, 1991; Segura & Pesquera, 1992). Through an emphasis on lived experience, Chicana feminists illustrate how their experiences as members of a patriarchal culture, members of a racist society, and members of a capitalist economy all come together. In her short story ``The Cariboo CafeÂ,'' Viramontes (1985) introduces us to Sonya who echoes the desires of Virginia Woolf for privacy; Sonya, however, wants a ``toilet of her own'' (p.
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61). The image contained here screams out for recognition not only of genderbased discrimination, but class-based also. It is one that, in the safe con®nes of our private oces, is hard to imagine. And yet, as AnzalduÂa (1987) and Viramontes (1985) remind us, it is one that many Chicanas and other women of color have experienced. By weaving stories of personal experience into their work, Chicana feminists detail the multiple oppressions experienced by many Chicanas. J. MartõÂ nez (1999) recalls how living in a racially-ordered society led to the denial and erasure of her Chicana/o heritage. Recounting the struggles she faced in reclaiming her history, identity, and language, J. MartiÂnez addresses her anger at her father, who separated the family from his Chicano relatives and places that anger within a larger social system of racism. Such stories contribute to a cultural history that accounts for how Mexican American women and Chicanas are denied access to power as women and as ethnic others. Through these stories, Chicana feminists illustrate how the very visibility of a race is linked to invisibility of the race. AnzalduÂa (1987) recounts the deportation of her cousin Pedro, a ®fth generation US citizen, whose poor English prevented him from telling immigration that he was a citizen (p. 4). Her remembrance of his arrest argues for how dierence is constructed through race and class. A consequence of the reliance on personal experience is that Chicana feminist critics broaden the dialogue by bringing in more previously silenced voices. By allowing us to look into their personal lives, Chicana feminists remind us of their mothers and grandmothers, absent in the history books. The knowledge that results from their memories then becomes a knowledge that validates not only their own lives, but the lives of a larger group of Chicanas. With each new story, another shift in identity occurs, and Chicana feminists mediate again between their political selves and their personal selves. In discussing this inclusion of the personal, SaÂnchez (1997) notes a shift to micropolitics in recent Chicana feminist work. This turn advances the goals of identifying the multiplicity among Chicanas, for in these historically situated and localized studies, we learn about the speci®c experiences, of oppression and resistance, that comprise Chicanisma. This turn to micropolitics re¯ects, in part, a shift in thinking about power and power relations. In highlighting the material, a Chicana feminist critical perspective directs our attention to the multiple ways in which acts of resistance are simultaneously assertions of power, even when we understand resistance to include seemingly mundane and everyday practices. Montoya (1994) for instance, remembers learning as a young child about the need for mascaras or masks that helped her move between her private identity as Mexican and her public identity as American: By the age of seven, I was keenly aware that I lived in a society that had little room for those who were poor, brown, or female. I was all three. I moved between dualized worlds: private/public, Catholic/secular, poverty/privilege, Latina/Anglo. I moved between these worlds. My trenzas and school uniform
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were a disguise. They were also a precursor for the more elaborate mask I would later develop. (Montoya, 1994, p. 190) The third critical practice of the study of Chicanisma through narratives is the act of naming. These Chicana voices and stories come forth as acts of political resistance that further the larger process of decolonization. In telling stories in their voices, Chicanas reclaim and rewrite histories that have been erased and negated. Indeed, D. GonzaÂlez (1997) writes that the task for Chicana historians ``is two fold Ð to resurrect and to delineate/revise'' (p. 124). In resurrection, we turn to our histories and uncover and re-present the women who have gone before us (Chabram-Dernersesian, 1992). In their lives, we ®nd strategies of resistance that can inform our present struggles. Additionally, in naming them, we give testimony as to our connections to a past and present. We claim their names, identities, and lives, in the process disrupting the grand historical narratives that have erased our histories. As Elenes (1997) writes, ``For subordinated peoples, then, the power to name/construct their world is crucial to reconstruct their histories and cultures. These reconstructions and rearticulations are vehicles against cultural dominance'' (p. 375). Such rewriting of history and perception furthers the goal of historical correction. A Chicana feminist critical perspective becomes transgressive in its ability to reframe dominant ideas and beliefs within the experiences and practices of Chicanas. Flores Niemann (1999), for instance, argues that what many non Chicanas see as submissivenss among Chicanas is interpreted and understood among Chicanas as ``powerful, strong, spiritual, yet gentle women who carry themselves with dignity'' (p. 7). Transforming submissiveness into leadership, Flores Niemann positions Chicanas again as the authors of their own lives. These new stories compete with, and potentially erase existing and often denigrating ones already in circulation. Thus, in addition to sharing narratives, Chicana feminists must also work as translators so that the celebration of work done by Chicanas is joined with the revision of denigrating stories through translating. The importance of the critic as translator can be seen in Chicana feminist revisions of Chicano nationalist arguments. Much Chicano nationalism operates with static views of gender that include an ideal Chicana, personi®ed in La Virgen de Guadalupe and an evil Chicana, contained in the ®gures of La Malinche and La Llorona. La Virgen, the Virgin Mary, is still in many ways the central female ®gure for Chicana/o, Mexican American, and Mexican culture (Fregoso, 1993a). La Malinche, the woman who helped CorteÂs conquer the Indians in Mexico and who bore the ®rst Spanish/Indian or Mexican child, is often positioned in Chicano nationalist discourse as a traitor/whore, while La Llorona is the Chicano/a, Mexican American, and Mexican ®gure of the evil mother, similar to Medea in Western mythology. A central argument made by Chicana feminists that counters, or at least modi®es, Chicano thought is the rejection of the broad categorizations of Chicanas and Mexican American women into good mother (La Virgen ), bad mother (La Llorona ), and whore/traitor (La Malinche ). While Chicana feminists
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do not reject their link to the foundational cultural myths of La Virgen, La Llorona, and La Malinche, they do insist upon reformulations of these myths in ways that deny their ``otherness.'' Thus, perhaps the best examples of translation can be seen in those studies which revise Mexicano/Chicano stories about La Virgen, La Malinche, and La Llorona (AlarcoÂn, 1981; AnzalduÂa, 1987; D. GonzaÂlez, 1991; Moraga, 1983; PeÂrez, 1993). In their traditional forms, the myths place Chicanas at the fringe of Chicano culture by relegating most women to the ``other.'' The ``positive'' image contained in La Virgen is so unattainable that Chicanas and Mexican American women inevitably fall short. Denied status as ``good'' women, they become ``other.'' The polarization implied by the imposed dichotomy of either good or evil is mediated by Chicana feminist critics who move all three historical ®gures from the extremes closer to the center. Humanizing La Virgen occurs in the writing of LizaÂrraga (1984), who illustrates the evolution of the character ``Maria'' from passive and holy to active and holy. LizaÂrraga, along with other Chicana feminists, rede®ne and thus reclaim La Virgen (AnzalduÂa, 1987; Cotto-Escalara, 1990; Lopez, 1991a, 1991b, 1991c). Chicana feminists also name with their insistence upon the revision of the Malinche myth. AlarcoÂn (1981) points out the dierences between Malinche as historical ®gure and Malinche as the ``myth of male consciousness'' [emphasis hers] and argues that the ``actual'' relationship between Malinche and CorteÂs and the circumstances which led to their relationship have been distorted by male consciousness so that women have only the choices of obedient slave or traitor/ whore (pp. 186±187). Arguing along similar lines, Chicana historian D. GonzaÂlez (1991) names Malinche as ``struggling survivor'' who recognized the demands on her from competing sides and chose to focus on her own needs. AnzalduÂa (1987) adds that much ``fact'' about Malinche is not sustained by historical research. She argues that the fall of the Aztec empire to CorteÂs through the hands of Malinche is a gross oversimpli®cation of complex political turmoil (p. 34). Throughout Chicana feminist revisions of the Malinche myth is an armation of Malinche as intelligent Indian woman surviving in an oppressive relationship. Perhaps what is signi®cant about surfacing revisions of the Malinche myth is not the actual retelling of the story along more women-arming lines (though this goal is undoubtedly signi®cant within a Chicana feminist critical perspective), but the use of the Malinche myth by Chicana feminists to deny both the monolithic (and male) cultural identity proclaimed by the early Chicano movement and the call for the end of the subject by some postmodern theory. Through the Malinche myth, Chicana feminist critics argue for a theory of the subject that encompasses multiplicity and dierence. As Fregoso and Chabram (1990) explain, ``Chicano academic intellectuals of the postcolonial condition failed to see that cultural identities have histories, that they undergo constant transformation and that far from being etched in the past, cultural identities are constantly being constructed'' (emphasis added) (p. 206). AlarcoÂn (1990) makes a similar point: The quest for a true self and identity which was the initial desire of many
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writers in the Chicano movement of the late 1960s and early 1970s has given way to the realization that there is no ®xed identity. `I', or `She' . . . is composed of multiple layers without necessarily yielding an uncontested origin. (p. 250) Working in part from Hall's (1989) notion of cultural identity as identity in production, or, in Hall's own terms, ``a matter of `becoming' as well as of `being' '' (p. 70), Chicana feminist critics argue for multiple readings of texts (Fregoso, 1993b). Rather than arguing from essentialist positions that ``Chicana as `bad' mother'' is negative, or that ``Chicana as `good' mother'' is positive, Chicana feminists recognize that ``mother'' is neither simply positive nor simply negative. In a culture (speci®cally Chicana) that values woman to woman relationships, especially maternal woman to woman relationships, ``mother'' is a complex and multiple signi®er. Readings of ``mother'' must consider the speci®c circumstances of both the text and the reader.
4. Conclusion The colonial history of the US has led to the silencing, erasing, and marginalizing of Chicanas. However, Chicana feminism and Chicana feminist critical perspectives can counter this history by sharing the narratives of Chicanas. These narratives document the lives and experiences of Chicanas and so call into question mainstream stories. The Malinche who is a traitor in Chicano discourse is labeled so because of the inability to see and remember how those women were themselves betrayed. The myths surrounding Malinche that indict her for sleeping with CorteÂs and casually mention how she was sold into slavery, not once but twice, fail to account for the choices she had: life or death. However, Chicana feminists who are labeled vendidas for joining feminist organizations often remember their own history of terror within the Chicano community. They recall how their families and friends forced a choice of living true to oneself within the Chicano community and facing frequent hostility for their lifestyle choices or living a life and maintaining accepted cultural norms so as to feel safe or ®nding a new accepting community elsewhere. The myth of the assimilated immigrant, quickly adopting a new language, dress, and culture helps form the reading of Mexican American women as desirous of American identity but unable to attain it. Adherents to this myth cannot always see that the ability to code switch or to be ¯uent not only in Spanish and English, but also Spanglish allows Chicanas/os to move between cultures. AnzalduÂa (1994) states, ``The new mestiza copes by developing a tolerance for contradictions . . . She learns to be Indian in Mexican culture, to be Mexican from an Anglo point of view. She learns to juggle cultures'' (p. 562). By juggling, Chicanas and Mexican American women learn to survive in a culture that relegates them to the margins. Chicana feminist Gaspar de Alba (1993) titles her collection of short stories The Mystery of Survival. Within this title, we can ®nd perhaps the underlying motto of
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Chicana feminism Ð Survival is the ultimate resistance. It seems to be an uncontroverted fact that Chicanas and Mexican American women are victims, of classism, racism, sexism and homophobia, to start. However, Chicanisma responds to this oppression with a commitment to decolonization and intersectionality. Building a Chicana feminist critical perspective is a complex task. The two main principles and the three critical aspects I outline above are by no means meant to be comprehensive. Methodologically, the principles of decolonization and intersectionality have implications across disciplines, methods, and paradigms. Similarly, the analysis of narrative, through the critical practices of voice(s), personal experience, and naming, can be done through textual and qualitative methods, and so can be incorporated across disciplines. Still, the very structure of a Chicana feminist critical perspective indicates that it is not THE model. As analyses of Chicanas are done from a Chicana feminist perspective, it is likely that, as identities shifts, the model also will. As we further investigate Chicana feminist models and other ``marginal'' models, we must continue to look for intersections across disciplines. As SaldõÂ var-Hull (1991) argues, border feminism is a coalitional feminism that builds from other theories and experiences (pp. 208± 209). Continued research into building new critical models would bene®t from sustained study of the scholarship of other women of color as well as from theory across disciplines.
Acknowledgements The Author would like to thank Celeste M. Condit and the reviewers for their helpful suggestions.
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