UNIVERSITY The Graduate School

Certificate for Approving the Dissertation

We hereby approve the dissertation

of

Jennifer M. Bondy

Candidate for the Degree:

Doctor of Philosophy

______(Director) Dr. Lisa Weems

______(Reader) Dr. Sally Lloyd

______(Reader) Dr. Kathleen Knight-Abowitz

______(Reader) Dr. Richard Quantz

______Graduate School Representative Dr. Yu-Fang Cho

ABSTRACT

LATINA YOUTHS TALK BACK ON “CITIZENSHIP” AND BEING “LATINA:” A FEMINIST TRANSNATIONAL ANALYSIS

by Jennifer M. Bondy

This dissertation is a feminist transnational cultural studies analysis of the discursive and material conditions of middle-class Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations. It is part of a growing body of scholarship in the fields of educational research and girlhood studies that explores citizenship as a White cultural formation which influences the lives of racialized girls. Drawing from the theoretical perspectives of feminist transnationalism and cultural citizenship, this dissertation analyzes interviews, participant produced cultural productions, and U.S. visas and citizenship to explore the dual processes of how middle-class Latina youths who live in South Florida are made into and engage in self-making practices of “citizenship” and being “Latina.” There are four emergent themes in this study: (i) neoliberalism as the dominant discourse through which Latina youths are made into “American citizens;” (ii) stereotypical images and discourses on the “,” “immigrant,” and “essential” identity as ways that Latina youths are made into “Latinas;” (iii) flexible citizenship and dissenting citizenship as Latina youths‟ self- making strategies of citizenship; and (iv) education and cultural pride as Latina youths‟ self- making strategies of being “Latina.” Findings indicate that while middle-class Latina youths‟ in South Florida are cognizant of dominant discourses on American citizenship and popular culture representations of young Latina women, they are also, and not necessarily in unproblematic ways, co-discursive participants in the construction of images of American citizenship and Latinas.

LATINA YOUTHS TALK BACK ON “CITIZENSHIP” AND BEING “LATINA:”

A FEMINIST TRANSNATIONAL CULTURAL STUDIES ANALYSIS

A DISSERTATION

Submitted to the Faculty of

Miami University in partial

fulfillment of the requirements

for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

Department of Educational Leadership

by

Jennifer M. Bondy

Miami University

Oxford, OH

2011

Dissertation Director: Dr. Lisa Weems

© Jennifer M. Bondy 2011

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

List of Figures……………………………………………………………………….. viii Dedication…………………………………………………………………………… ix Acknowledgments…………………………………………………………………… x Chapters 1. Introduction………………………………………………………………… .. 1 Introduction………………………………………………………… . 1 Rationale and Significance of the Study…………………………….. 2 Research Questions………………………………………………….. 5 Terminology………………………………………………………….. 5 First-, Second-, and Third-Generation……………………….. 5 Discourse……………………………………………………... 6 Discursive and Material Conditions…………………………. 6 Culture……………………………………………………….. 7 Citizenship…………………………………………………… 9 Latina………………………………………………………... 9 Race…………………………………………………………. 12 Agency……………………………………………………….. 13 Positioning Myself as a Researcher………………………………...... 13 Organization of the Dissertation……………………………………… 16 2. Literature Review and Theoretical Framework……………………………… 17 Introduction…………………………………………………………... 17 On Girls‟ Identity Formations: “Girl Power” and “Reviving Ophelia”.. 18 Shifting Frameworks for Conceptualizing Girls‟ Identity Formations…………………………….. 20 Cultural Citizenship…………………………………………………… 24 A Critical Review of Current Research on Adolescent Latinas………. 29 “Being-Made:” English-Language Proficiency and Accent….. 29

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“Self-Making:” Popular Culture and (Re)Constructing Belonging……………………………………………... 31 Theoretical Framework………………………………………………... 32 Feminist Transnationalism……………………………………... 33 The Contrasts between International and Transnational Feminisms……………………………………………… 34 A Latina Transnational Feminist Framework………………….. 36 Cultural/Material……………………………………….. 36 Social Structures and the State………………………… 38 Linkages across Cultural Contexts…………………….. 41 Empirical Research on Lived Experiences…………….. 42 Conclusion…………………………………………………………….. 44 3. Methodology………………………………………………………………….. 46 Introduction…………………………………………………………… 46 Philosophical Issues in Social Sciences……………………………….. 46 Methods of Empirical Research………………………………………... 48 Sites…………………………………………………………….. 49 Negotiating Access……………………………………………... 50 Participant Selection……………………………………………. 51 Methods of Data Collection…………………………………….. 53 Questionnaires…………………………………………... 54 Interviews……………………………………………….. 54 Texts (or Artifacts): Who I Am Collages and U.S. Visas and Citizenship……………… 57 Who I Am Collage……………………………….. 57 U.S. Visas and Citizenship……………………… 58 Data Analysis……………………………………………. 58 Discourse Analysis………………………………. 59 Guidelines for Data Analysis…………………….. 61 Ethics and Reflexivity……………………………………………. 63 Reciprocity……………………………………………….. 64

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Reflexivity………………………………………………. 64 A Participant and Her Mother‟s Request for Greater Self Disclosure………………….. 65 My Own Desires to Gain Legitimacy and Trust With Participants………………………… 66 Language and Power…………………………….. 67 Validity/Trustworthiness………………………………………………… 69 Conclusion……………………………………………………………….. 71 4. Data Analysis: Talking Back on “Citizenship” and Being “Latina:” Emergent Themes.……………………………………………………… 72 Introduction……………………………………………………………. 72 Portraits of Participants………………………………………………… 73 Anastasia Diana………………………………………………… 73 Emma……………………………………………………………. 74 Scarlett………………………………………………………….. 75 Gabriela………………………………………………………… 76 Laura……………………………………………………………. 76 Viviana…………………………………………………………. 77 Lucia…………………………………………………………… 78 Carolina………………………………………………………… 78 Portraits Discussed……………………………………………… 79 Being-Made into “American Citizens:” Neoliberalism and the American .. Dream…………………………………………………… 79 Neoliberalism and the American Dream………………………… 79 Being-Made into “Latinas:” Stereotypes and Essentializing Identity…… 95 Stereotypes: Chongas and Immigrants…………………………… 96 Essentializing Identity: Place of Birth and the .. 101 Talking Back on “American Citizenship:” Flexible Citizenship and Dissenting Citizenship…………………………………… 105 Flexible Citizenship………………………………………………. 106 Dissenting Citizenship……………………………………………. 116

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Talking Back on Being “Latina:” Contesting and Complying with Gendered, Racialized, and Sexualized Imageries and an… Essential Identity……………………………………….. 121 Contesting and Complying with Gendered, Racialized, and Sexualized Imageries……………………………………. 121 Contesting and Complying with an Essential Identity…………. 127 Conclusion………………………………………………………………. 130 5. Conclusion………………………………………………………………………. 133 Introduction…………………………………………………………….. 133 Broader Social and Economic Conditions of Immigration……………… 133 Limitations………………………………………………………………. 136 Implications……………………………………………………………… 138 Theoretical……………………..………………………………… 138 Methodological………………………………………………….. 140 Educational……………………………………………………… 142 Conclusion………………………………………………………………. 144 Appendices Appendix A: IRB Application…………………………………………………… 145 Appendix B: Recruitment Email to Educational Leaders……………………….. 157 Appendix C: Recruitment Letter to Research Participants………………………. 159 Appendix D: Letter of Consent to Parents and/or Guardians……………………. 161 Appendix E: Letter of Assent to Research Participants…………………………. 164 Appendix F: Media Consent and Release Form………………………………….. 168 Appendix G: Personal Profile Questionnaire (PPQ)……………………………... 169 Appendix H: First Semi-Structured Open-Ended Interview Questions………….. 171 Appendix I: Second Semi-Structured Open-Ended Interview Questions………... 172 Appendix J: Third Semi-Structured Interview Questions………………………... 174 Appendix K: Prompt for the Who I Am Collage…………………………………. 175 Appendix L: Emma‟s Collage……………………………………………………. 176 Appendix M: Viviana‟s Collage………………………………………………….. 177 Appendix N: Gabriela‟s Collage………………………………………………... 178

vi

References………………………………………………………………………………. 179

vii

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure Description Page Number 1 Lucia‟s Collage………………………………. 83 2 Laura‟s Collage……………………………… 90 3 Scarlett‟s Collage……………………………. 109 4 Carolina‟s Collage…………………………… 125 5 Anastasia Diana‟s Collage…………………… 128

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Dedication For Aunt Joyce and Jules.

ix

Acknowledgments I thank my dissertation committee, Drs. Lisa Weems, Sally Lloyd, Kathleen Knight- Abowitz, Richard Quantz, and Yu-Fang Cho, for your thoughtful readings and insightful feedback on earlier drafts of this dissertation. I also thank each of you for providing and nourishing an intellectual and emotional space for me to grow in as a new scholar. The completion of the PhD program is in no small part a product of the patience, support, and guidance that each of you has offered to me. I am indebted to the 8 young women – Anastasia Diana, Emma, Scarlett, Gabriela, Laura, Viviana, Lucia, and Carolina (pseudonyms) – who participated in this project. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences with me even though there was never a guarantee about what I would write in my “book.” I also extend my thanks to your parents, whose trust and consent were integral to this project, and to your teachers, who supported and helped me in recruitment process. I am particularly grateful to Wendy Wuenker, a fellow Red Hawk, who welcomed me into her home in South Florida and shared her friendship with me. Thank you for providing me with shelter, laughter, and encouragement throughout various phases of the dissertation process. I also wish to thank my dear friend and EDL colleague, Kimberly Haverkos, for her ever- present support and love. Kim, you remained my most ardent ally and I thank you for your unwavering presence in my life these past four years. I love you and I very much look forward to the day when we celebrate both our PhD‟s. I am especially appreciative for my family members – Brenda Schmitt, Peter J. Bondy, Jr., and Judy and Arismendy Peguero – for their encouragement in keeping me focused and relentless support throughout this arduous process. Nan and Peter, your phone calls to check-in and offer me emotional support will always be cherished. Thank you for letting me ramble on even though you, too, had pressing concerns in your lives. Judy and Arismendy, your questions about and interests in my progress and health will also always be greatly appreciated. I thank my mom and dad, Yvonne and Pete Bondy, and especially my mom for her unconditional love and support. I cannot begin to express the gratitude I feel for your commitment to my happiness and success. Thank you for believing in me.

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And last, but certainly not least, I thank Anthony A. Peguero for twelve years of friendship, love, laughter, tears, and challenges. I am forever grateful for your gentle patience, unbounded love, reassuring words, and loving embraces. The journey we have taken together has most certainly not been easy, but each moment has always held the promise of hope and the good fortune of a life shared lovingly and compassionately with each other. And, of course, I thank our two dogs, Nana and Quito, who have brought indescribable joy and affection into our family and home. They, too, sustain and comfort me in their own ways.

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CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION Introduction With the exception of Mexico, “There are now more -origin people in the U.S. than there are people in Spain, Argentina, Colombia, or any other Spanish speaking country…[the United States is experiencing] the greatest demographic transformation in the last 100 years of U.S. history” (Mandel, 2004 citing Professor M.M. Suárez-Orozco). As a matter of fact, the U.S. Census Bureau (2007) estimates that Latinas/os comprise 15% of the total U.S. population, making Latinas/os the largest minority group in the United States. The Latina/o population is projected to double from the year 2010 to 2050, from 39.3 million to 80.7 million (Ginorio & Huston, 2001). Within the Latina/o population, roughly 40% are first-generation and 60% are second-generation,1 with population growth driven mainly by an increasing number of second-generation Latinas/os (Hakimzadeh, 2006). As Sánchez and Machado-Casas (2009) explain, “This indicates that Latinas/os are highly immigrant if we include in this definition those Latinas/os with at least one foreign-born parent” (p. 4). The growing number Latinas/os, as I will try to later demonstrate, is germane to the discussion of transnational feminism and citizenship. The Latina/o population is also much younger than other racialized minority groups in the United States. In 2001, one-third of Latinas/os were under the age of 15. By 2030, it is estimated the Latinas/os will comprise 25% of the total U.S. school population (Ginorio & Huston, 2001). It is also projected that between 2000 and 2020, the youth population between the ages of 5 and 13 is expected to increase by 47% for Latinas/os, 15% for Black/African Americans, and to decrease by 11% for White/European Americans (Ginorio & Huston, 2001; U.S. Department of Education, 1997). Although Latinas are currently the largest “minority” group of girls between the ages of 10 and 19 in the United States, they are an understudied and underrepresented population in U.S.–based research on adolescent girls (Ginorio & Huston, 2001; Denner & Guzmán, 2006). These demographic shifts suggest that Latina youths‟ living in the United States face unique challenges, including a shortage of meaningful research within or across the social sciences such as educational research and girlhood studies. More specifically, the demographic

1 Throughout this paper, I use first-generation to refer to Latina/os born in Latin America and second-generation to refer to U.S. born Latinas/os with at least one parent born in Latin America. By Latin America, I refer to countries in South and Central America, Mexico, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and Cuba.

1 shifts suggest that conceptual and empirical research about adolescent Latinas should demonstrate how their formations of belonging and identity are imbricated with complex negotiations of race, gender, sexuality, language, nation, and culture. Though not for all Latina youths, for many, they and/or their parents were born outside of the United States. Thus, the conditions which make possible their sense of belonging, both in the United States and in their “home country,” as well as their identity can be marked by transnational and trans-cultural configurations that do not necessarily adhere to conventional boundaries between nations and cultures (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Mayer, 2003; Olsen, 1997). In other words, the experiences of Latina youths, including how they negotiate possibilities and limitations in their lives, can be qualitatively different from the experiences and negotiations of White/European American and Black/African American girls. There is a growing body of literature that describes how Black/African American and White/European American girls reproduce, rework, and resist social and structural constraints on their lives (e.g. Brown, 2009; Leadbetter & Way, 2007; Proweller, 1998). Some qualitative research literature has focused on stereotypical representations of Latina teens as high school drop-outs, pregnant and/or teen mothers, and “gang bangers” (e.g. COSSMHO, 1999; Dietrich, 1999; NWC & MALDEF, 2009). Other research literature examines the strengths of Latina/o youths, but either does not focus upon girls (Suárez-Orzoco & Suárez-Orzoco, 2001) or overwhelmingly focuses on Latinas who are college-age or older (Delgado-Bernal, Elenes, Godinez & Villenas, 2006). Of the sixteen chapters in Urban Girls Revisited: Building Strengths (Leadbetter & Way, 2007), only three focus on adolescent Latinas.2 In addition to the relatively limited amount of scholarship regarding Latina youths, certain topics such neoliberal citizenship, class, and national belonging have yet to be explored in depth. Thus, this study investigates the discursive and material conditions of Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations. Rationale and Significance of the Study This dissertation contributes to the small body of research on Latina youths generally and the nearly non-existent scholarship on middle-class Latina youths in South Florida specifically.

2 Some exceptions to the gap in the research on how adolescent Latinas accept, resist, and subvert the constraints on their lives include (i) Bettie‟s (2003) ethnography on White and working-class Latina youths‟ negotiations around class, gender, and race in a California public school; (ii) Miranda‟s (2003) ethnography on adolescent Chicanas‟ resistance their objectification as gang members; and, (iii) Denner and Guzman‟s (2006) edited volume on the positive contributions Latina youths make to their communities and broader U.S. society. Bettie (2003), Miranda (2003), and Denner and Guzman (2006) most certainly make important contributions that open up new possibilities for research with adolescent Latinas.

2

As Valdivia (2008) notes, it is undeniable that a disproportionate number of adolescent Latinas/os in the United States live in poverty. Yet, there is also a significant portion of the Latina/o youth population, recent arrivals and U.S. born alike, that is middle- or upper-middle class. “These youth are grossly understudied” (Valdivia, 2008, p. 108). In terms of Latina youths in South Florida, Denner and Guzmán (2006) note almost a total gap in the research. My dissertation begins to address these gaps. Many of the studies on Latina youths in the United States, particularly in the fields of education and communication and media studies, focus primarily on Latina youths‟ experiences of marginalization in school or in dominant U.S. society. It also focuses on how they negotiate this marginalization (Bettie, 2003; Dietrich, 1999, Ginorio & Huston, 2001; Mayer, 2003; Olsen, 1997; Rolón-Dow, 2005; Valenzuela, 1999; Vargas, 2006; Williams, Alvarez, & Hauck, 2002). While this research literature explores education and popular culture as sites to point out the relationship between race and national belonging, no study appears to explicitly explore and focus on adolescent Latinas‟ experiences with formal U.S. citizenship. Additionally, research in education and communication and media studies primarily examines the lives of poor and working-class Mexican, Dominican, and Puerto Rican girls who live in California, Texas, New York, or North Carolina. However Florida, which has historically had one of the highest Latina/o populations in the United States (Denner and Guzmán, 2006; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006), is interestingly missing from the research. The overwhelming focus on poor and working-class Mexican, Dominican, and Puerto Rican girls risks perpetuating the “deviant” paradigm that pervades much of the research on Latina youths (Valdivia, 2008). This focus also risks homogenizing a heterogeneous population. As Portes and Rumbaut (2006) demonstrate, the majority of Latinas/os in South Florida are of South American or Cuban descent. It is important to note that Florida, especially South Florida, is unique in terms of its geographic proximity to Latin America. Cuba is, after all, only 90 miles south of Key West. Additionally, previous research demonstrates that many adult Latinas/os in South Florida are transnational, meaning that they occasionally or frequently visit and/or stay in touch with their “home” countries through various social, cultural, and economic networks (Portes & Rumbaut, 2006; Rumbaut & Portes, 2001). Access to, for example, Latin American news media, popular culture, and food is not necessarily dependent upon physically traveling from Florida to Latin America. Rather, one may not have to travel at all due to television networks such Univision,

3 weekly newspapers focused on Latin American immigrant communities, and political activist groups that raise awareness of issues pertaining to various Latin American immigrant communities and the situations in their home countries (Portes & Rumbaut, 2006; Rumbaut & Portes, 2001; Shumow, 2010). Or, one may travel as briefly as 5 minutes to a local Latin American bakery or restaurant. This suggests that Latinas/os in South Florida represent a unique group in terms of national belonging. The bi-national (or perhaps tri- and more) belongings that Latinas/os in South Florida can experience point to a multiple subjectivity that is rooted in more than one place. Exploring the particular locations of Latina youths in these dynamics is potentially a fruitful area to pursue in terms of young people‟s citizenship and identity formations. Furthermore, Oboler (2007) argues that Latinas/os are an important test for the future of U.S. citizenship, particularly in the current context of suspicion and anti-immigrant policies. While Latinas/os are most certainly not the only racialized group who are targeted, there has been increasing violence against Latinas/os and acceptance of racial profiling since September 11, 2001. For instance, hate crimes against both U.S. born and Latina/o immigrants have increased by 40% since 2007 (MALDEF, 2009; SPCL, 2008). Anti-immigrant senate and house bills have been signed into law in Arizona and Georgia, arguably empowering local police forces to racially profile and investigate “certain suspects” about their immigration status. Mainly Latino immigrant men have been rounded up, paraded through town, and forced to wear women‟s undergarments and eat rotten food in Maricopa County, Arizona (Goodman, 2009). In this climate of fear, the United States has sought to expand its national security by militarizing the U.S./Mexico border in order to control illegal immigration and curtail drug-trafficking (Goodman, 2009; Oboler, 2007). In addition to the official and formal practices of exclusion, it is important to remember that there is an array of informal practices of exclusion and profiling that Latinas/os experience in their everyday encounters with the media and different social groups. Exploring the conditions of Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations helps to illuminate the ambiguous position of Latinas/os as U.S. citizens and residents. It also helps to shed light on the paradoxes of formal national belonging and exclusion, especially for a group of girls who are coming of age during a particular moment in history. This dissertation expands upon the scholarly literature on adolescent Latinas by extending the conversation to include segments of the Latina youth population and regions of the U.S. that are currently missing. In

4 addition, this dissertation contributes to research on Latina youths in light of larger national debates about the politics of citizenship and immigration. Research Questions Grounded in feminist transnationalism, this study uses ethnographic methods to address the following research questions: 1) Through what discursive and material conditions are middle-class Latina youths in South Florida made into “American citizens?” 2) Through what discursive and material conditions are middle-class Latina youths in South Florida made into “Latinas?” 3) How do middle-class Latina youths in South Florida negotiate racialized national belonging across cultural and national borders? 4) How do middle-class Latina youths in South Florida negotiate their racialized identities across cultural and national borders? 5) What are the theoretical, methodological, and educational implications of this study‟s findings? Terminology To ground this study, I introduce eleven concepts that are associated with this project. Nine of these concepts – first-generation, second-generation, and third-generation; discourse; discursive and material conditions; culture; race; and, agency – are terms that I use throughout the dissertation. While I offer operational definitions for these nine terms, they are not the objects of my inquiry. However, two concepts are the objects of this study‟s inquiry – citizenship and Latina. I recognize that these eleven terms are often elusive and difficult to define, and that readers may contest the definitions I offer; nevertheless, it is important to make transparent my thinking on these concepts. First-, Second-, and Third-Generation I draw my understanding of first-, second-, and third-generation from sociological literature around immigration (Jensen, 2001; Kalogrides, 2009; Portes & Rumbaut, 2001; Suárez-Orozco & Suárez-Orozco, 2001). Within this research literature, generational status is defined as follows: first-generation refers to individuals who were born outside of the United States; second-generation refers to individuals who were born in the United States with at least

5 one parent who was born outside the United States; and, third-generation refers to individuals born in the United States with parents who were also born in the United States. In the context of this particular study, first-generation refers to Latina youths who were born in Latin American with parents who were also born in Latin America. By Latin America, I refer to all countries in South and Central America, Mexico, Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic. Second-generation refers to Latina youths who were born in the United States with at least one parent who was born in Latin America. And, third-generation refers to Latina youths who were born in the United States with parents who were also born in the United States. Discourse I use discourse in a Foucauldian (1977/1995; 1978; 1980) sense to refer to utterances, rules, and divisions which govern a particular body of knowledge, and that constitute practices through which statements are formed and people, or subjects, are positioned. Discourses organize how we perceive and give meaning to our lived experiences and to the world in which we live (Mills, 2003). That is, they structure the conceptual frameworks for thinking and talking, and they provide the models that we use to map and make sense of our realities (Yon, 2000). Discourses are produced in particular social, cultural, and historical contexts; therefore, they are constantly shifting and not monolithic. Furthermore, at any given time, there are multiple discourses on a particular topic or construct (e.g. citizenship) that are not positioned equally. In other words, some discourses on citizenship are invested with more power or authority than other discourses. Within the context of this study, the hegemonic discourse, or dominant discourse, on citizenship that emerged was neoliberalism. Additionally, it is important to point out that discourses limit and facilitate thoughts and actions. The following definitions on discursive and material conditions offer an example of a discourse. Discursive and Material Conditions As indicated in the preceding section entitled “Research Questions,” this study explores the discursive and material conditions of middle-class Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations. By discursive conditions, I mean the situation and arrangements in which discourses are produced and taken up. Discursive conditions shape how discourses about a particular topic are understood, embodied, and practiced in specific ways. By material conditions, I mean the

6 social, cultural, political, and economic resources that shape particular roles for individuals and groups of people. Perhaps a concrete example would help to clarify my understanding. Gore and Gitlin (2004) explore the divide between teachers and academics over the production and use of knowledge. They explain that the material conditions of a teacher‟s job vary greatly in relation to the material conditions of a professor‟s job. A teacher‟s job is highly regulated and structured by, for example, a routinized bell schedule and standardized curriculum. An academic‟s job, however, is not so regulated. An academic typically does not have to abide by a daily, rigid bell schedule or follow a standardized curriculum. As a result, the material conditions of an academic‟s job give her/him more freedom and flexibility than a teacher. Furthermore, Gore and Gitlin (2004) describe how discourses of professionalism vary greatly between teachers and academics. For teachers, professionalism means adjusting practices to pre- determined learning outcomes, loss of control over curriculum, and data-driven pedagogy. For academics, professionalism means meeting increasingly greater demands for new knowledge production in the form of grants and publications. Collectively, material and discursive conditions differently shape how teachers and academics approach educational questions. Academics approach questions in education to gain a broad and analytic understanding whereas teachers approach educational questions to gain a particular understanding that fixes a certain problem. Therefore, not only do discursive conditions enable and constrain thoughts and actions but so, too, do material conditions. Gore and Gitlin (2004) argue that in order to challenge the divide between teachers and academics, the discursive and material conditions in which each works must be addressed. Culture Because this project is interested in both the meanings of “citizenship” and “Latina” and which groups get to define these meanings, and because cultural politics involves a struggle over what and whose meanings will be validated in the mainstream, this study is at the heart of cultural politics (Habell-Pallán, 2005). Furthermore, since culture plays a central role in constituting how we perceive ourselves and our communities (Johnson, 1986/1987; Johnson, Chambers, Raghuram, & Tinknell, 2004; Storey, 2003), and in shaping how we engage in struggles over meaning, it is important that I distinguish how culture is defined in this project. While Foucault does not explicitly announce his intention to study culture, it is nevertheless a theme that is implicitly embedded throughout his work. From a Foucauldian

7 perspective, power and discourse practices are means through which culture can be better understood (Quantz, 2007). According to Quantz (2007), while in typical sociocultural theory discourse is understood as an aspect of culture, Foucault argues that discourse and practices are not separate factors, but are intertwined so that we cannot know when one begins and the other ends. Therefore, culture is always understood to be integrated with the structural (or material) formation of the sociocultural. The elimination of the dichotomy between the social and cultural suggests that culture is always, at one and the same time, both discursive and material (or structural) in form. These material aspects of the sociocultural may legitimate, or invest culture with power serving, certain positions in a society more than others; and, that culture can also be understood to be a formation of multiple discourses that shifts and changes over time and across contexts (Quantz, 2007). That is, a Foucauldian notion of culture implies structure, power, and discourse. Cultural studies works with an inclusive definition of culture, and this field (if I might call it a “field”) is committed to examining all that can be thought, said, and done (Johnson, 1987/1988; Johnson et al., 2004; Storey, 2003). With that, and drawing from a Foucauldian notion of culture, I do not use culture as something that is essential, stable, and unified, or that is knowable through a fixed set of attributes. Rather, I understand culture as how we live; the shared meanings we make and encounter in our daily lives; and, the practices and processes we use to make these meanings with the texts that we encounter in our lives (Storey, 2003). By text, I am referring to a variety of things, including photographs, movies, buildings, written documents, fashion, popular culture, and etc. that people may come across every day. Cultures are made from the production, consumption, and circulation of meanings made with and from texts (Johnson 1987/1988; Storey, 2003, p.3). As with Foucault, this integration of process and product requires our understanding of culture to always locate it within the material structures of production and consumption. As a result, cultures are neither stable nor homogeneous, but a dynamic a matter of conflict about texts and the complicated relationships that individuals and groups of people take up in relation to these texts (Habell-Pallán, 2005; Storey, 2003). Put another way, texts can mean many different things in many different ways and it is this conflict over whose meaning is “right” that is at the center of culture, cultural studies, and cultural politics. Thus, culture plays a role in

8 shaping whether or not an individual or group of people accepts or resists particular relations of power. Citizenship Citizenship is traditionally a concept that refers to a set of universally available rights, entitlements, and responsibilities; possession of a certificate; and, passing a citizenship test (Knight Abowitz & Harnish, 2006; Lee, 2006; Lowe, 1996; Ong, 1996; Rosaldo, 1994; 1997). It also traditionally implies a social relationship between individuals, as well as between individuals and the state, in terms of membership and identification with a particular nation and national culture (Aapola, Harris, & Gonick, 2005; Lee; 2006; Lowe, 1996; Rosaldo, 1994). However, discourses on citizenship and the effects of these discourses are not neutral. They do not have the same implications for all people. For example, when examining citizenship as universally available in juxtaposition with racialized women, men, and youths, anxieties about national security, assimilation, and the economy often surface (Maira, 2009; Oboler, 2007). As a result, many racialized people are positioned outside of citizenship as universally available. They are also positioned at the margins and/or outside of the nation and national culture (Lowe, 1996). Being a citizen, then, is not solely contingent upon political, economic, and legal processes; rather, citizenship is also constituted in a person‟s everyday life and in relation to people (e.g. family, friends, teachers, employers, etc.) and institutions (e.g. media, school, workplace, religion, etc.) the person encounters. That is, citizenship is also constituted in the social and cultural realms. This dissertation reflects on how young Latinas are positioned within citizenship as a legal status that confers a universally available set of rights, entitlements, and responsibilities. It examines how young Latinas negotiate their positionings within this discourse and articulate alternative practices of citizenship that shed light on issues of equality, rights, and justice that extend beyond traditional conceptualizations of citizenship. Latina In it most conventional use, Latina is a broad, pan-ethnic identity that includes women and girls who are U.S. citizens or residents of Latin American descent or who have at least one parent of Latin American descent. Hispanic, like Latina, is also conventionally used to refer to people of Latin American descent who live in the United States. Based on these definitions, all of my research participants are Latina and Hispanic. Yet, categorizing my participants‟ identities is

9 neither a simple nor a straightforward task. Perhaps this is not surprising given that the meanings and uses of both Latina and Hispanic have been subject to debates within academia, government agencies, and much of U.S. society at large (Flores, 1997; González, 2005; Martînez, 1998; Oboler, 1995). Thus, a brief elaboration on some of the debates behind each of these terms seems warranted. I start with the term Hispanic because, as I will shortly demonstrate, Latina was chosen as its “antidote.” According to González and Gándara (2005), “Hispanic” is a derivative of hispánico, a Spanish word that is usually applied to objects or groups of people. “Hispanic,” therefore, produces “a sensation of uniformity and loss of personal identity” (González & Gándara, 2005, p. 393). In addition, “Hispanic” is seen as race neutral because it alludes to people who comprised the old Spanish empire, thereby erasing indigenous and African heritages and cultural components (González & Gándara, 2005; Martînez, 1998). “Hispanic” carries the disadvantage of being a term that did not emerge from the community itself. It was first imposed in the 1970s by the U.S. Census Bureau as an extension of U.S. racial constructions that had previously been unable to “deal with” and “account for” the increasing diversity brought on by the Spanish- speaking population (Flores, 1997; González , 2005; González & Gándara, 2005; Martînez, 1998; Oboler, 1995). As de la Luz Montes (2003) explains, “In the 1980s, the Reagan administration instituted Hispanic Month which placed all Latinas (, Puerto Rican Americans, , etc.) within a peninsular Spanish historical context” (p.44). In these brief descriptions of the term “Hispanic,” I want to call attention to a few ways in which some feminist scholars argue the term operates. First, “Hispanic” suggests Whiteness, homogeneity and Spain. As a result, “Hispanic” risks presenting an essential and monolithic understanding of a group of women despite different national-ethnic heritages and historical inheritances (Latina Feminist Group, 2001; Martînez, 1998). Second, “Hispanic,” because of its reference to Spain, masks current colonial relations between the United States and Latin America. This concealment, in turn, erases the current subordination and marginalization of Latinas living in a U.S. context (González & Gándara, 2005). And third, the term “Hispanic” works to allay White/European American, middle-class fears of Latinas by constructing images which do not threaten cultural and national uniformity in the United States (de la Luz Montes, 2003; Martînez, 1998). At the great risk of simplifying the term and its implications, “Hispanic,”

10 especially when used uncritically, is arguably a racist construct that maintains inequitable relations of power within the United States and between the United States and Latin America. In contrast to “Hispanic,” Martînez (1998) notes how the term “Latina” explicitly includes women “whose background links them to some 20 different countries, including Mexico” (p. 2). Hence, “Latina connotes diversity, brownness, and Latin America” (González & Gándara, 2005, p. 392). “Latina” is not a race neutral term but instead embraces the “various mixed inheritances, whether through ethnicity, race, sexuality, regional culture, religious- spiritual formation, class, generation, political orientation or linguist heritage or practice” (Latina Feminist Group, 2001). “Latina” also carries the advantage of being a term that emerged from the community itself. As González and Gándara (2005) note, although this term was coined in 19th century Europe as part of a Latin movement to resist Anglo dominance, it spread to Latin America with the political purpose of resisting Anglo dominance in the United States. It was chosen as the corrective to the U.S. government census-sanctioned and Eurocentric term Hispanic (González, 2005). The emergence of the term “Latina” signifies a history of coalition that works within and across difference to forge revolutionary projects out of intersecting political agendas (Latina Feminist Group, 2001). Feminist scholars who use the term “Latina” (de la Luz Montes, 2003; González & Gándara, 2005; Martînez, 1998; Latina Feminist Group, 2001) generally do so for the following reasons: (i) to remind readers of Latinas‟ marginal position in relation to the White/European American population, particularly in a U.S. context; (ii) to remind readers of Latinas‟ historical and current experiences with U.S. colonialism; (iii) to explicitly evoke Latinas‟ multi-racial, ethnic, and linguistic histories and heritages; and (iv) to make visible the spaces and practices of resistance and activism that are made possible by the particular relations of power out of which Latinas‟ identities emerge. That is, their use of the term “Latina” appears to be a self-conscious political and ethical choice that highlights rather than masks particular relations of power. However, it should be noted that some scholars argue the label “Latina” is problematic because it, like “Hispanic,” is rendered meaningless for how it collapses the various historical, racial, class, linguistic, gender, and citizenship experiences into one category (González, 2005; Oboler, 1995). In other words, within the context of different yet corresponding histories and multi-place associations, “Latina” does not necessarily and automatically illuminate the differences between, for example, fifth-generation Mexican families in California, second-

11 generation Puerto Rican youths in New York City (who are sometimes called boriquas or ), first-generation Salvadorian families in North Carolina or between the citizen and undocumented or the professional and the service industry laborer. Furthermore, I am aware through this study as well as my own histories and teaching experiences in South Florida that many women and girls who have connections to Latin America first self-identify in terms of a specific nationality (e.g. Colombian, Venezuelan, Ecuadorian, Mexican, Puerto Rican, Cuban, Dominican and etc.) or do not identify at all with the term “Latina.” Some women and girls prefer to self-identify as “Hispanic.” While umbrella terms like “Hispanic” and “Latina” are inadequate, it appears there is greater need for questioning the merits of and need for standardized terminology. The search for a Latina and/or Hispanic identity does not come easy nor is consensus anywhere near in sight (Flores, 1997; González, 2005; Martînez, 1998). As Flores (1997) argues, perhaps Latina and Hispanic are better understood as concepts that identify subject positions which are produced by particular discourses. This understanding might help to illuminate how women and girls can be caught between and must negotiate different and conflicting discourses on what it means to be “Latina” and “Hispanic.” Nevertheless, I must get on with this dissertation and use terminology to describe my participants to the reader. After much deliberation, and as the title of my dissertation indicates, I decided to use “Latina” except when referencing or quoting a participant who uses, for example, “Hispanic,” “Colombian,” or “Venezuelan.” In these references and quotes, I use my participants‟ terminology. Race Perceptions of race as natural, biological, and obvious have long been challenged. Omi and Winant (1994) write, “…there is no biological basis for distinguishing among human groups along the lines of race. Indeed, the lines reveal themselves, upon serious examination, to be at best imprecise, and at worst completely arbitrary” (p. 55). It is now more common to think of race as socially constructed and as a discursive category. Yon (2000) explains, “Thinking of race as a discursive category means that races have been socially created and therefore have no intrinsic meaning outside of their histories” (p. 10). In other words, the meaning of race changes in different contexts, circumstances, and times. As a result, objects, actions, and meanings that may be associated with race also shift and change. For example, depending on the speaker and the social, cultural, and historical contexts, the concept of race can evoke notions of language,

12 place of birth, skin color, style of fashion, sexuality, intelligence, religion, food, types of dancing, athletic ability, and history (Omi & Winant, 1994; Yon, 2000). In this study, I understand race as having neither a biological basis nor a stable meaning. Yet, I also understand the interpretive processes of race, particularly in everyday interactions, as drawing up discourses that affix certain meanings to particular bodies. In other words, I do not intend to use race in biological and fixed ways; yet, I acknowledge that in daily practice, race is often attached to material bodies in ways that have very real material effects.3 Agency By agency, I refer to an individual‟s capacity for her/his self-determination and control over her/his identity and destiny. However, this study does not posit that agency is something that first exists outside of ourselves and is universally available. Rather, this study draws upon poststructural feminist notions of agency (St. Pierre, 2000; St, Pierre & Pillow, 2000). Poststructural feminism troubles the subject as autonomous, rational, conscious, stable, unified, and knowing individual. “The subject of poststructural feminism is generally described as one constituted, not in advance of, but within discourse and cultural practice” (St. Pierre & Pillow, 2000, p. 6). In defining discourse, I explained how discourses shape people‟s perceptions of themselves and reality, as well as limit and open up ways of thinking about and acting in the world. As St. Pierre (2000) explains, “a subject that exhibits agency as it constructs itself by taking up available discourses and cultural practices and a subject that, at the same time, is subjected, forced into subjectivity by those same discourses and practices” (p. 502). This suggests that while discourses may determine and “trap” (i.e. limit) subjects, they also simultaneously produce and authorize (i.e. enable) agency. I use agency in this study as a practice of resistance that is produced by the limiting effects of discourses. Positioning Myself as a Researcher As the researcher and author of this dissertation, it is important that I discuss my positionalities and interest in relation to this project and research processes. While I discuss this in greater detail in Chapter 3 (Methodology), I do not claim that this study is objective. Rather, this project is a partial and situated text that was produced, in part, from my own histories and social locations (Haraway, 1988). The research that I conducted and dissertation that I have written are inevitably informed by my cultural identity.

3 Future data analyses will explore the how my research participants conceptualize the hybridity of race.

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My intention in this section is not to offer a confessional tale (Van Maneen, 1988) as a way to claim that my findings are somehow “legitimate” or as a tool for reader with which to adequately understand and interpret this study. Nor is my intention in this section to do a complex analysis of how I have been produced as a gendered, racialized, sexualized, classed, and nationalized subject (Bettie, 2003). That type of analysis, while important, is most certainly beyond the scope of the current project. Instead, my intention is to briefly acknowledge my personal history in relation to this project and let the reader make of it what s/he wishes. I was born in New Orleans, Louisiana in the mid-1970s into a home of silence. My family lived with unspoken tensions. The major tension, the one that I believe most relates to this study, was that my father is a Latino immigrant, Ecuadorian actually, and my mother is White/European American. That makes me second-generation. As a child growing up, I never considered my dad Ecuadorian nor did I consider myself the daughter of an Ecuadorian immigrant. Simply put, I thought that my dad was White/European American. I also thought that I was White/European American and not a person of mixed heritage. I think perhaps this happened for numerous reasons, some of which precede my arrival into this world. From the stories I have pieced together – my father is quite reticent to talk about his past – my dad came to the United States in the mid-1960s for educational opportunities.4 He was ridiculed and discriminated against upon his arrival. More specifically, he was mocked in Connecticut for having Jewish parents5 and in North Carolina for speaking English with an “accent.” He made a promise to himself after these experiences that he would learn to speak English without an “accent,” and that he would not discuss his parents‟ background. When I was a child growing up, Spanish was rarely spoken in our home and Judaism was not a topic of conversation. I was raised as a monolingual English-speaker and Catholic. I visited Ecuador twice as a youth – once when I was two years old then again when I was seventeen. To this day, I have never heard my father speak English with an “accent.” I think perhaps additional reasons I considered myself White/European American are that my family always lived in middle-class,

4 Interestingly, I learned just two weeks before I defended this dissertation that my dad was sponsored as an undergraduate student at Wake Forest by the Institute of International Education from 1962 to 1967. 5 My paternal grandparents were Holocaust survivors who fled the former Czechoslovakia a week before Hitler‟s invasion. They migrated to Ecuador where my father, uncle, and aunt were born, and where they raised their children Catholic to avoid persecution. With the exception of my grandmother, grandfather, great aunt, and a distant cousin, my father‟s side of the family was killed in concentration camps. This is another layer of my history that I hope to explore in the future.

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White/European American neighborhoods and I attended predominantly White/European American schools. In the neighborhoods where I lived and schools I attended, claims to “other” identities typically resulted in hostility. Basically, everything about my upbringing inside and outside of my home indicated to me that I was a “White girl” who unquestionably belonged in the United States. Since my childhood, much has changed. After graduating college in the late 1990s, I lived in South Florida with my parents, where I observed my father re-claim his Latino identity. He visited Ecuador more often and spoke Spanish more frequently. My grandmother, aunt, and cousins from Ecuador also visited us in Florida. I wondered what this might mean, if anything, for me. I began teaching world history in a high school that had a student population comprised of about 40% Latina/o youths. I listened to many of my Latina/o students critique the United States and the framing of Latin America in the school‟s world history curriculum. I met my partner who was born in New York City to Latina/o immigrants. Almost every summer, I say good bye to him and my mother-in-law for their two-week trip to Ecuador, which is, like my dad, my mother-in-law‟s home country. I listen and attempt to understand my partner and his parents, who converse mostly in Spanish. I have also moved to the Midwest with my partner and in-laws. I have never been asked where I‟m really from nor have I worried about what might potentially happen to me if people perceive me as an “illegal immigrant.” (I do, after all, look like a White, American girl.) I have, however, witnessed my partner being subjected to questions about his “real” national belonging and I‟ve observed the worry on my in-laws faces and in their bodies about the consequences of being perceived as “illegal.” When we first moved to the Midwest in the mid 2000‟s, there were factory raids in our area that resulted in the deportation of Latina/o workers. There were also workshops entitled “How to catch an illegal immigrant” that were held at the local public high school in my in-law‟s neighborhood. At one point, my in-laws even considered carrying their U.S. passports on them at all times. What I am trying to say is that while I enjoy the privileges attached to looking White, being a U.S. citizen, and speaking English with no “accent,” I also often wonder if my identity and sense of belonging are the products of histories of exclusions. I know very little about and embody even less of my Ecuadorian and Jewish backgrounds. Perhaps my dad, like his mother, wanted to protect me from the discrimination and shame he experienced in being Ecuadorian and the son of Jewish parents. I really don‟t know. As I mentioned above, my father is reticent to

15 speak about his past and I have pieced together this story from the tidbits I have heard over the years. Furthermore, as I grow older, I find myself struggling to identify with the histories of White power and supremacy that I perceive are frequently read onto my body. I recognize that I benefit from these histories in ways that I am frequently unaware of; yet, I cannot write that I fully see myself in them considering the absences in my own history. My ability to belong to the “American community” and identify as a “White girl,” appears to me, at least, to be constituted through and dependent upon exclusions that, when made visible, might reveal how tenuous my membership and identity really are. It is these exclusions, as well as the privileges and violence produced by them, that drive my interest in this particular project. For me, what is at stake is the extent to which individuals can decide and control their own identities and conditions of belonging to the American national community. Organization of the Dissertation This dissertation is organized into five chapters. Following this first chapter, which introduced the study, Chapter 2 provides the empirical research literature and theoretical framework in which this study is situated. It includes a discussion of the following: girls‟ identity formations; cultural citizenship; a brief critical review of research with adolescent Latinas; and, feminist transnationalism. Chapter 3 frames this study methodologically. It describes the methods of empirical research and addresses issues of validity and trustworthiness. Chapter 4 presents an analysis of interviews, participant produced cultural productions, and a general discussion of U.S. visas, residency, and citizenship. This chapter explores the ethnographic themes around “citizenship” and “Latina” that emerged from the data. Chapter 5 concludes this dissertation. It explores the broader socio-economic conditions of immigration, the limitations of this study, and the theoretical, methodological, and educational implications of my findings.

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CHAPTER TWO LITERATURE REVIEW AND THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK Introduction In Chapter 1, I introduced this study by describing its rationale, research questions, and terminology. In order to explore my research questions about the discursive and material conditions of middle-class Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations, this chapter reviews the scholarship in girls‟ identity formations, cultural citizenship, and adolescent Latinas. I suggest that a lack of connection between these three fields of research, as well as the absence of feminist transnationalism, precludes a more complicated understanding of Latina youths‟ lived experiences. This chapter is comprised of five sections. In the first section, I review the pertinent literature on girls‟ identity formation. I pay particular attention to two popular discourses, “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power.” In exploring the research on these discourses, I examine how the identity formations for girls of color, including Black, South Asian, and Latina girls,6 are often times silenced and marginalized within girls‟ studies. The second section examines two different concepts of cultural citizenship. More specifically, after briefly describing liberal principles of citizenship and some of the associated critiques, I explore two competing discourses on cultural citizenship. I discuss how these discourses have emerged in the contexts of immigrant communities and their relations to the nation, as well as how each discourse engages in liberal principles on universal citizenship. In the third section, I propose Ong‟s (1996) conceptualization of cultural citizenship as a framework to move forward and help think about two ways of organizing and analyzing scholarship, including this study‟s data, on Latina youths. More specifically, I use cultural citizenship to re-interpret qualitative research that, since the late 1990s, has focused on adolescent Latinas. In the fourth section, I describe the theoretical framework7 – feminist transnationalism – that guides this study. In the fifth section, I conclude

6 While I recognize that adolescent Black and South Asian girls are not the focus of this dissertation, Black, Latina, Chicana, and South Asian feminists alike have struggled against the experience of the middle-class European- American/Canadian girl as the norm against which all girls‟ experiences are measured and understood (Brown, 2009; Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Jiwani, Steenbergen, & Mitchell, 2006). That is, the critiques offered by Black, Latina, and South Asian feminists help to point out how girlhood is produced differently given the intersections of various identity categories within broader social-cultural-economic-political backdrops. 7 I use theoretical framework as an umbrella term to describe and include the ontological, epistemological, and methodological approaches to my research questions. I recognize that other researchers use the term “paradigm” in this way (Lather, 2006). Yet, I have chosen not to use “paradigm” because of how it traditionally reinscribes scientific ways of thinking (Benton & Craib, 2001).

17 this review with a summary and analysis of the strengths and gaps in the research literature. This chapter argues that while adolescent Latinas‟ lives are certainly shaped in complex ways by issues of gender and sexuality in the media, their lived experiences are also informed by social, political, and economic issues related to citizenship. On Girls’ Identity Formations: “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power” What do we know about adolescent girls? Since the early 1990s, two discourses which depict girls have become bound up with the common and popular understanding of girls‟ identity formation (Aapola, Gonick, & Harris, 2005; Brown, 2009; Harris, 2006; Gonick, 2006). On the one hand, there is the “Reviving Ophelia” discourse, a name which is furnished by Mary Pipher‟s book, Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls (1994). Within this discourse, research, journalism, and popular debates suggest increasing fears of girls‟ low self- esteem and at-risk behaviors. For instance, according to national reports (e.g. Shortcoming Girls, Shortcoming America, American Association of University Women [AAUW], 1991), an adolescent girl is a girl who has significantly low self-esteem; suffers from a loss of confidence in her academic abilities; is manipulated and poisoned by popular culture; is in jeopardy of the inability to grow into a responsible citizen and adult; and, who has low professional aspirations. Similarly, often cited studies in psychology describe adolescent girls as girls who devalue their own thoughts, feelings, and perceptions (Brown & Gilligan, 1992), and, therefore, are at risk for eating disorders, alcohol and drug abuse, sexual assault, and suicide attempts (Pipher, 1994). On the other hand, there is the “Girl Power” discourse. Unlike “Reviving Ophelia,” “Girl Power” depicts adolescent girls as independent, successful, self-assuring, and self-inventing. “Girl Power” emerged in the early 1990s as a powerful political movement that combined punk and feminist aesthetics and politics (Kearney, 2006). As girls‟ studies scholars explain, “Girl Power” was initially associated with young women punks who used writing and music as a political platform to demonstrate that they were not passive and easily duped consumers of popular culture, but rather critical political dissenters who actively created and produced knowledge (Aapola et al, 2005; Gonick, 2006; Harris, 2006; Kearney, 2006). Their critiques were often in the form of face-to-face meetings, music gigs, conferences, and self-produced magazines, and ranged from young women‟s experiences of gender, sexuality, race, class, and other forms of embodiment (Aapola at el, 2005; Kearney, 2006). However, since its emergence in the early 1990s, “Girl Power” has become

18 commercialized, and now represents individualized young women who are girlie and sexy, brash, ambitious, motivated, and independent (Aapola et al, 2005; Brown, 2009; Gonick, 2006; Harris, 2006; Kearney, 2006). “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power” have been readily taken up by academics, public health professionals, educators, community organizers, and government and non-government initiatives as frameworks to create education, mentoring programs, and advocacy campaigns dedicated to girls‟ empowerment (Bettie, 2003; Brown, 2009; Harris, 2006; Mazarella & Pecora, 1999). In her ethnographic study of working-class White and Mexican American high school girls, Bettie (2003) describes the enthusiasm and support that teachers and parents express for Pipher‟s (1994) Reviving Ophelia, and the promises it holds for educating girls into strong and healthy women. Brown (2009) recalls her own experiences as a mentor in a Black girls‟ youth program that was based on research depicting girls as at-risk and suffering from social pressures and societal ills. Harris (2006) explains how government and corporate sponsored programs such as “Take Our Daughters to Work Day” are aimed at initiating girls into the world of the successful woman worker. In their edited volume on popular culture and girls‟ identity, Mazarella and Pecora (1999) warn the reader that popular culture “continues to present to girls stereotyped and potentially dangerous messages about a female-ness we hope to move beyond” (p. 7). Despite the apparent differences between “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power,” Gonick (2006) argues that the two actually combine and work together to “emphasize young female subjectivities as projects that can be shaped by the individual rather than within a social collectivity” (p. 18). In other words, whether it is through self-help books and programs or the rhetoric of “girls can do anything,” both “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power” contribute to the neoliberal project of personal responsibility instead of collective organizing (Brown, 2009, p. 36; Gonick, 2006). Moreover, and as numerous scholars have argued (e.g. Brown, 2009; Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Jiwani, Steenbergen, & Mitchell, 2006), “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power” are primarily addressed at Western-Anglo, middle-class, heterosexual, and able-bodied girls; thus, much of the theoretical and empirical scholarship on girls‟ identity formation assumes the middle-class, heterosexual, White girl as the norm. The experiences of girls‟ of color are effectively silenced and marginalized.

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Shifting Frameworks for Conceptualizing Girls’ Identity Formations Feminist scholars, particularly women of color feminists, have responded in various ways to the two dominating discourses, “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power.” Generally speaking, the feminist scholars whose work I draw upon collectively describe girls‟ adolescence as the formation of identities that are mediated and determined by race, class, gender, sexuality, citizenship, nationalism, and migration, and shaped by historical encounters that are rooted in colonialism (e.g.; Bettie, 2003; Brown, 2009; Collins, 2000; Denner & Dunbar, 2004; Hernández & Rehman, 2002; Jiwani, 2006; Jiwani, Steenbergen, & Mitchell, 2006; Lee, 2006; Mayer, 2003; Miranda, 2003; Vargas, 2006; Ward, 2007). These feminists seek to move beyond the “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power” paradigm, and argue for frameworks that are more attentive to the multiple and alternative influences shaping the lives of girls, particularly racialized girls. In their critiques of “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power,” feminists of color offer alternative frameworks for conceptualizing girls‟ identity formations. Theoretical and empirical research with Black girls argues for an intersectional analysis that takes into consideration how race, gender, sexuality, and class intersect to create the inequalities that structure the positions of Black girls.8 Put simply, research with Black girls demonstrates how Black girls‟ identity formations are not the same as White girls. Collins (2000) argues that Black girls have historically received positive messages from Black adults, especially Black women, and their communities that support Black girls‟ self-confidence and nourish their voices and self-identity. Collins explains how the historical and current economic exploitation of Black women‟s labor cultivates definitions of Black girlhood that include self-reliance, resistance, and sexual equality. Although Ward (2007) acknowledges that not all strategies of resistance are necessarily liberatory, she finds that Black girls‟ healthy resistance and identity formations are shaped by intergenerational family dynamics that help Black girls redefine traditional notions of girlhood in ways that reflect their racial reality. More specifically, Ward explains how Black mothers, grandmothers, aunts, and other Black women offer their daughters a racialized gendered

8 Kimberle Crenshaw (1989), a U.S. Black feminist legal scholar who is credited with coining the theory of intersectionality, argues that gender and race are not separate categories or discrete experiences; rather, gendered experiences cannot be adequately understood unless processes of racialization are taken into consideration. In other words, race and gender are mutually constitutive of each other. Although Crenshaw is writing about the exclusion of adult Black women from feminist theory and antiracist policies, feminist scholars extend her argument by asking if certain theoretical orientations and sites of analysis privilege one site of identification over another and, thus, contribute to the marginalization of Black, Latina, and South Asian girls within girlhood studies.

20 socialization that teaches Black girls assertiveness, love of the self and community, and an understanding of how White power and privilege will impact and structure their lives. The narratives of Black girls‟ resistance most certainly does not align with “Reviving Ophelia” and the suggestion that adolescent girls‟ identity formation is marked by low-esteem, decreasing self-confidence, and the silencing of voice. Additionally, Brown (2009) argues that despite the “girls can do anything” rhetoric of the “Girl Power” discourse, narratives about Black girls function socially and politically to silence Black girls‟ voices. Brown offers evidence of this silencing by describing how the everyday work that Black girls do to create social change, such as performance, poetry, art, music, and dance, goes unnoticed in conventional educational and mentoring programs. Because Black girls must integrate multiple identities, including race, gender, and class, simply adding them to the already existing dominant “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power” paradigm will not solve the problems of marginalization. Latina feminists, like Black feminists, point out that analyses of girls‟ identity formations must take into consideration how gender, sexuality, race, and class intersect and mutually constitute each other to create the positions from which girls speak. Yet, Latina feminists and non-Latina feminists who do research with Latina youths argue that given the specific challenges Latina youths face in the United States, it is important to consider how Latina youths‟ identity formations are further imbricated with complex negotiations of migration, parent/daughter immigrant generational status, and citizenship (Denner & Dunbar, 2004; Ginorio & Huston, 2001; Mayer, 2003; Vargas, 2006). In their mixed methodology study, Denner and Dunbar (2004) argue that second-generation Mexican American girls‟ identity formation is a process that occurs across a myriad of cultural contexts, including what it means to be a girl in Mexican and European American cultures. The girls in the study see a clear difference between the expectations that European American adults, especially teachers, and their Mexican parents have for them. Thus, second-generation Mexican American girls‟ identity formations involve strategies of negotiation around what are often times conflicting and competing cultural scripts that define gender and sexual relations (Denner & Dunbar, 2004). In other words, gender intersects with immigrant generational status as the girls face different gendered and sexualized expectations at home and school (Ginorio & Huston, 2001). Denner and Dunbar and Ginorio and Huston‟s studies are particularly useful for practitioners, including educators and community organizers, who are beginning to work with Latina youths. However, these researchers‟ lack of

21 sufficient engagement with literature outside of psychology does not help to cultivate a more complex and nuanced understanding of Latina youths‟ identity formations. For example, the goals of Denner and Dunbar (2004) and Ginorio and Huston (2001) are to challenge Eurocentric models of girls‟ identity formations as well as “cultural deficit” perspectives of Latina youths, which are two models that have dominated both developmental psychology and education. While most certainly laudable goals, “culture” is an implied central tenet in these authors‟ analyses; yet, “culture” is never defined. As a result, the authors risk presenting “Latina/o culture” as a static category that continues to both homogenize heterogeneous populations and suggest that Latina youths are determined by their culture(s). In efforts to counter pathological representations of Latina youths, Denner and Dunbar and Ginorio and Huston simply substitute positive representations for negative ones. I would suggest that positive representations are not necessarily less limiting or detrimental than negative representations.9 With the exception of brief disclaimers offered in the introductions, some readers may be left wondering how, for instance, race, sexuality, nationality, immigrant generation, citizenship, and geographical context differently shape Latina youths‟ identity formations. It appears the conclusions these researchers draw would have benefited greatly by engaging in dialogue with comparable research on Latina youths done across the social sciences. Latina and non-Latina scholars writing in the education, , and communication and media studies suggest that the impact of migration, especially when combined with the influences of gender, race, and age, has particular consequences for adolescent Latinas‟ identity formations (Mayer, 2003, Williams et al., 2002; Vargas, 2006). These studies are instructive for illuminating how adolescent girls‟ identity formations can occur between two geo-political locations, and how perceptions of racial and cultural differences, especially from dominant U.S. society, can impede a sense of belonging. In her ethnographic reception study on working-class,

9 One example of a supposedly positive representation that is limiting and has produced detrimental effects is the “model minority.” Research literature in education suggests that this representation derives from perceptions of Asians as hard-working and self-sufficient people whose drive for success propels them into the American middle- class (Lee, 1996; 2005). Within this representation, the success of Asian Americans is used to argue that the United States is a democratic society that is free of racial discrimination and inequality. Yet, researchers underlie how the “model minority” positions Asian Americans in a racial middle status between Blacks and Whites, thereby protecting rather than disrupting White power and privilege (Chou & Feagin, 2010; Lee, 1996; 2005). Researchers also highlight how the achievements of Asian Americans are used to discipline African Americans and Latinas/os, pitting groups of color against each other (Chou & Feagin, 2010; Lee, 1996; 2005). That is, the “model minority” representation makes invisible the White racism and discrimination that Asians, like Blacks and Latinas/os, have experienced and continue to experience.

22 first-generation Mexican American teenage girls in Texas, Mayer (2003) finds that the girls experience racism, sexism, and classism in their everyday lives. She argues that these experiences result in feelings of marginalization and exclusion that lead the girls to believe they are outsiders to the United States. Mayer describes how the girls use telenovelas, or Spanish language soap operas, to mediate their national and social identities, and as a way to imagine themselves in relation to Mexico and resolve the discrimination they experience in Texas. Williams and colleagues (2002) also observe that perceptions of racial and cultural differences raise concerns about first-generation working-class Latina girls‟ acceptance into mainstream U.S. society. In their qualitative project with first-generation Mexican girls attending an urban high school in the Midwest, Williams and colleagues notice that the girls experience pressure to dress and wear their hair in particular ways, and to speak English without a Spanish accent. Wearing “American” clothing and hair styles and speaking “correct” English are major aspects of belonging and acceptance that, when not met, result in exclusion for first-generation Latina youth (Olsen, 1997; Williams et al, 2002). Vargas (2006) makes a similar observation about first-generation working-class Latina youths from various national backgrounds. In her action research project conducted in Durham, North Carolina, she asserts that when girls‟ pressure to belong is combined with migration, the result is typically exclusion. Vargas, like Mayer (2003), suggests that the girls use media as a strategy for coping with the stress of migration, and as a way to structure a sense of belonging in the United States. Postcolonial and transnational feminists, as well as feminists who draw from these theoretical orientations, also help to create a more complex understanding of girls‟ identity formations. These feminists shift their analytic focus away from the “girl” and popular culture and instead focus on how Whiteness influences the lives of racialized minority girls (Bettie, 2003; Hernández & Rehman, 2002; Jiwani, 2006; Jiwani, Steenbergen, & Mitchell, 2006; Lee, 2006; Miranda, 2003). More specifically, within postcolonial and transnational feminist scholarship on girls, Whiteness is analyzed as a cultural formation that has historically been constructed alongside and in relation to other racialized identities. Whiteness, thus, is troubled as the unassumed and unacknowledged center against which everything is compared. This emphasis on Whiteness allows for an understanding of how exclusion and marginalization based on racial and cultural differences translates into the colonial reproduction of power and privilege (Anzaldúa, 1987; Jiwani, 2006; Lee, 2006). Furthermore, the move beyond the “girl” as the

23 category of analysis enables feminists writing within postcolonial and transnational frameworks to draw attention to how regulatory regimes, such as citizenship, mediate and shape girls‟ lives. In her ethnography with working-class Mexican American girls who attend a California high school, Bettie (2003) observes that the girls conflate American citizenship with Whiteness. She suggests this conflation is not surprising given the history of U.S./Mexico relations, the exclusionary politics of U.S. citizenship, and the school‟s Eurocentric curriculum. Along similar lines, Lee (2006) also underscores issues of citizenship. Her analysis of a participatory action research project with girls of color in Victoria, British Columbia describes how the girls‟ exclusions are shaped by both the White gaze and cultural symbols such as statues, monuments, plaques, and flags which convey a White national identity. If citizenship is ongoing process of identity formation rather than a set of rights conveyed by the state, then considering how cultural representations intersect with racialized girls‟ recognition is crucial in conversations about citizenship (Lee, 2006). Because citizenship is a regulatory and classificatory mode of power, racialized girls who live in White colonist nations cannot afford to have citizenship issues as irrelevant and unimportant to theoretical and empirical research on girls‟ identity formations. Put another way, citizenship must be a site of analysis in research on U.S. based Latina youths‟ identity formations. Cultural Citizenship What does citizenship mean? Conventional notions of citizenship focus mostly on its legal-political aspects and suggest that citizenship is a universal category in which all citizens have equal rights and protections under the law (Chavez, 2008; Lowe, 1996; Hong, 2006; Ong, 1996; Rosaldo, 1994; 1997). For example, Marshal (1950/1998) traces shifts in society and tensions between individuals and the nation-state to identify three categories of citizenship – civil, political, and social – which collectively grant individual rights such as free speech, property ownership, political participation, economic welfare, and full inclusion in a society‟s heritage (in Knight-Abowitz & Harnish, 2006, p. 653-654). As Knight-Abowitz and Harnish (2006) write, “Citizenship, at least theoretically, confers membership, identity, values, and rights of participation” (p. 653). However, other scholars point out the contradictions between universal and abstract notions of civil, political, and social citizenship and the demands of capitalism. Discourses on cultural citizenship emerge from critiques that point out the exclusionary and marginalizing practices on which universal liberal principles of democratic citizenship

24 depend. Rosaldo (1994), a U.S. Latino scholar who is credited with the first use of the term, argues that cultural citizenship is the demand by marginalized people for full inclusion and participation in citizenship despite their cultural differences from mainstream society. Rosaldo (1994) writes, Cultural citizenship refers to the right to be different and to belong in a participatory democratic sense. It claims that, in a democracy, social justice calls for equality among all citizens, even when such differences as race, religion, class, gender, or sexual orientation potentially could be used to make certain people less equal or inferior to others. The notion of belonging means full membership in a group and the ability to influence one‟s destiny by having a significant voice in basic decisions. (p. 402) Explicit in Rosaldo‟s view on cultural citizenship is that citizenship negates cultural differences and in doing so, it denies membership to and subordinates various communities. Rather than efface difference, Rosaldo seeks to mobilize difference in ways that produce new spaces and ways of claiming rights, membership, and validating identities (1994; 1997). “From the point of view of subordinated communities, cultural citizenship offers the possibility of legitimating demands made in the struggle to enfranchise themselves” (Rosaldo & Flores, 1997, p. 57). Cultural citizenship moves beyond legal-political definitions and recognizes that citizenship also requires subversive practices. Knight-Abowitz and Harnish (2006) point out that Rosaldo‟s view on cultural citizenship shifts the language of rights and agency from the individual to the collective. Although individual rights are central to Marshal‟s (1950/1998) three categories of citizenship, collective agency is foregrounded in cultural citizenship. Writing specifically about Latino cultural citizenship, Flores and Benmayor (1997) state, Unlike other “immigrant” groups, for Latinos, the American continent is a homeland that precedes the arrival of Europeans. At the same time it is inextricable from the epoch of conquest and colonization, as well as from that era‟s continuing contemporary forms. Increasingly, however, Latinos are outsiders in their homeland. They are considered foreigners and immigrants, even when they hold legal citizenship by birth or, as in the case of , by decree. (p. 1-2)

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Depsite Latinas/os different modes of incorporation into the United States, they share in a history of oppression that results, in part, from being historically defined as a homogeneous racial group (Chavez, 2008; Flores, 1997; 2000; Oboler, 1995; 2007; Rocco, 2004). In addition, despite Latinas/os legal enfranchisement into the institution of U.S. citizenship, Latinas/os are continually positioned as permanently outside of the U.S. imaginary. Cultural citizenship attempts to name the myriad and changing social practices and cultural forms that Latinas/os use to claim social space, and that contribute to “an emergent Latino consciousness and social and political development” (Flores & Benmayor, 1997, p. 1). Given the histories of colonization and conquest, particularly for Mexican and Puerto Ricans populations, and a shared history of exclusion and oppression, forms of agency for individual rather than community rights appear to be antithetical to the goals of Latino cultural citizenship. Some Latina and Chicana feminists use cultural citizenship as a theoretical framework to explore how Latinas/os perceive exclusions in the context of academic institutions, as well as how they challenge these exclusions by collectively creating spaces of cultural citizenship (Bañuelos, 2006; Delgado Bernal, Alemán, and Flores Carmona; 2008). For instance, Bañuelos (2006) identifies Latina/o cultural citizenship as the struggle for community and institutional enfranchisement. She uses the concept mainly in terms of how Chicana graduate students contest the educational frameworks and institutional practices that exclude them and constrain their sense of belonging. Bañuelos suggests that cultural citizenship in the context of higher education can be construed as struggles over identity and practices, as well as Chicanas‟ rights to belong. Her conclusions are significant for rethinking how spaces of belonging can be supported by educational policies that increase faculty and student diversity. Similarly, Delgado Bernal and colleagues (2008) articulate how cultural citizenship can be used to intervene in educational policies and interrupt practices that are detrimental to the Latina/o community. In Delgado Bernal and colleagues‟ study, Latina/o elementary school students, university students, and parents share transgenerational pedagogies of cultural citizenship as counter-narratives against legal-political ideologies on citizenship, and against educational policies and school practices that espouse fairness and race-neutrality. While the previously cited Latina/o scholars‟ theoretical and empirical work on cultural citizenship is useful for tracing how culturally specific meanings and practices of citizenship are created (Bañuelos, 2006; Delgado et al., 2008; Flores & Benmayor, 1997; Rosaldo, 1994;

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Rosaldo & Flores, 1997), Ong (1996) suggests that this conceptualization attends to only one side of various unequal relationships. Scholars who draw upon Rosaldo‟s view on cultural citizenship tend to focus on the practices and cultural formations that minority and immigrant groups use to claim full membership and belonging in the United States. This focus suggests that subordinated groups can circumvent the power of the state and dominant social groups to regulate and define ways of belonging (Chavez, 2008; Ong, 1996). “The term „liberation‟ is a prominent signifier in this [cultural citizenship] discourse” (Knight-Abowitz & Harnish, 2006, p. 669). In her genealogy of the U.S. institution of citizenship, Lowe (1996) argues that the imperatives of capitalism create a need for a differentiated or racialized and gendered labor force that is profoundly at odds with liberal principles of citizenship. Lowe demonstrates how the 19th and 20th century disenfranchisement of immigrant workers, particularly Asian immigrants, from citizenship simultaneously maintains a cheap and manipulable labor force while guaranteeing the rights of White male citizens over non-Whites and women. Hong (2006) analyzes various novels and census data to explore the development of U.S. capitalism from a national phase to a global phase. In her analysis of these texts, Hong highlights how universalistic rights, especially those symbolized by the citizen, disavow the gendered and racialized differences on which they depend. In other words, there is a contradiction between the citizen as universally available and the racialized, gendered, and classed inequalities that are produced by capitalism and immigration (Hong, 2006). While writings, such as Lowe and Hong‟s, that engage in transnational perspectives provide important insights into debates on citizenship, there is still the need for empirical research that focuses on people‟s everyday experiences to explore what citizenship encompasses. Yet, Lowe (1996) and Hong‟s (2006) critical analyses of liberal principles of citizenship suggest that immigrant and minority groups, regardless of the efforts made, cannot escape power relations with the state and dominant social groups that establish different ways of belonging. As Chavez (2008) notes, “Feelings of belonging and desire for inclusion in the social body exist in a dialectical relationship with the larger society and the state, which may or may not find claims for cultural citizenship convincing” (p. 14). Cultural citizenship is not unilaterally constructed and demands for inclusion are neither transcendent nor outside of relations of power (Ong, 1996). When cultural citizenship is formulated in this manner, it subscribes to the same liberal

27 principles on universal citizenship and full inclusion that it seeks to critique (Ong, 1996; Lee, 2006). Ong (1996) sheds different light on the concept of cultural citizenship as subject-making and being-made by relations of power. She writes, I use “cultural citizenship” to refer to the cultural practices and beliefs produced out of negotiating the often ambivalent and contested relations with the state and its hegemonic forms that establish the criteria of belonging within a national population and territory. Cultural citizenship is the dual process of self-making and being made within webs of power link to the nation-state and civil society. Becoming a citizen depends on how one is constituted as a subject who exercises or submits to power relations. (Ong, 1996, p. 738) Ong suggests that cultural citizenship is dialectically determined between the state and its subjects. Drawing on Foucault‟s concept of governmentality10 as rituals and rules that produce consent to be governed, Ong includes regulations that control the conduct of subjects as a population and as individuals within a given nation-state (p. 738). State institutions are not monolithic; rather, they are fragmentary and recruit civil society and social groups in governmentality. Ong makes this claim evident by describing how the state harnesses social workers in extending its disciplinary power over low-income immigrant families, and civil society in extending its disciplinary power over high-income immigrant families. Within Ong‟s conceptualization of cultural citizenship, it is necessary to have “two- pronged” approach to analyses of citizenship. First, it is important to be attentive to how individuals and groups of people attempt to make themselves into particular kinds of subjects of the state, or what Ong calls “the process of self-making.” Put another way, analysis of citizenship must attend to people‟s concrete practices and values in everyday life (Lee, 2006; Maira, 2009; Manalansan, 2003; Miranda, 2003). Second, it is important to attend to how various practices of state institutions, civil society, and social groups differentially make minority groups and individuals into certain kinds of subjects, or what Ong calls “the process of being made.” While minority groups may share similar obstacles such as racism, Ong‟s framework of cultural

10 For Foucault (1991), governmentality refers to the ways in which regulatory forms of government involve social actors in all levels of society. More specifically, for Foucault, the power to construct citizens does not lie solely in government institutions; rather, the power to construct citizens is exercised in numerous sites (e.g. education, peer groups, the family, and media) throughout a society and its culture.

28 citizenship allows for the exploration of how obstacles emerge, and are maintained through specific historical contexts and gendered, racialized, and sexualized stereotypes in the construction of, for example, who is “Latina/o” (Chavez, 2008; Ong, 1996). Moreover, this approach moves discussion away from liberal discourses on citizenship that are undergirded by the false promise for full inclusion and social equality that are contained within universal and abstract notions of citizenship (Lee, 2006; Ong, 1996). Situating cultural citizenship within Ong‟s framework helps to bridge the distance between identity formations and everyday practices of citizenship. A Critical Review of the Current Research on Adolescent Latinas The purpose of this section is not to offer a comprehensive review of the scholarship on adolescent Latinas. Although research has not kept up with the rising numbers of Latina youths in the United States, the empirical research that has been done is scattered across numerous disciplines, making a comprehensive review quite difficult and beyond the scope of this dissertation. Therefore, the purpose of this section is to explore research in education and media studies as way to cultivate a different understanding of the paradoxical conditions of possibility for Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations. In order to begin cultivating this new way of thinking, I draw upon Ong‟s (1996) notion of cultural citizenship. I use cultural citizenship as an analytic lens to examine research literature in education and media studies that explores Latina youths‟ experiences with constructing their identities and belonging in the United States. Two questions guide this section of the literature review: (i) What are the practices by which adolescent Latinas are made into certain kinds of subjects?; and (ii) How do adolescent Latinas attempt to make themselves into particular kinds of subjects? I first draw upon the research literature in education to demonstrate how Latina youths are made in particular kinds of subjects. I then draw upon the research literature in media studies to describe how Latina youths engage in processes of self-making. “Being-Made:” English-Language Proficiency and Accent One way that Latina youths are made into particular kinds of subjects is through their English-language proficiency and accents. Although I would suggest that all people who speak English speak it with an accent, adolescent Latinas, regardless of whether their first language is or is not English, tend to receive negative feedback from their teachers and peers for their English-speaking abilities (Olsen, 1997). Latina youths describe being patronized by and

29 receiving lower grades from their teachers because of teachers‟ perceptions of their English- language proficiency (Dietrich, 1999; Olsen, 1997; Rong & Priessle, 2009; Williams et al., 2002). Dietrich (1999) conducted an ethnographic study of Chicana adolescents in a California barrio and high school. While none of the teachers she observed demonstrated insensitive attitudes towards English-speaking White/European American girls, Dietrich finds that teachers often stereotyped and patronized Chicana adolescents for their English-language abilities. More specifically, she writes, “One teacher routinely ended instruction to a group of English-speaking Latino students in the class with comments such as, „Do you guys comprehende this?‟” (Dietrich, 1999, p. 90). Williams and colleagues (2002) also find that adolescent Latinas experience marginalization by teachers because of perceptions of their English-speaking abilities. Drawing upon surveys, group interviews, and classroom observations in an urban Midwestern high school, Williams and colleagues demonstrate that first-generation Latina youths are often placed in lower-academic tracks or held back in English-as-a-second-language classes based on teachers‟ perceptions of the their English-language competencies (Williams et al., 2002). The above examples raise questions about the racialization of English-language proficiencies and competencies, as well as how this racialization operates to position adolescent Latinas as intellectually incompetent in relation to their English-speaking White/European American peers. The above examples also point to the need for research that explores how perceptions of language proficiency intersect with racialized, gendered, and classed processes that maintain inequalities. Additionally, there is research that describes situations in school where adolescent Latinas are verbally and physically harassed by their U.S. born peers who claim to not understand their spoken English (Olsen, 1997; Fine, Jaffe-Walter, Pedraza, Futch, & Stout, 2007). In her ethnographic study of a California high school, Olsen (1997) observes that unlike White/European American girls, first-generation Latina youths experience daily occurrences of being laughed at for incorrect English, made fun of for heavy accents, and have difficulty finding their way around school when they don‟t understand English (p. 93). One young woman from Mexico expresses her frustrations with the exclusions she experiences when she states, “I wished I could go back to my country. They [students] don‟t know how it feels when one lives in a strange country” (Olsen, 1997, p. 93-94). As a matter fact, many of the Mexican girls in Olsen‟s study report that becoming English speaking without a Spanish accent is the same as becoming

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American. The discomfort of being “outside” and the fear of being mocked led many immigrant girls to learn English as quickly as possible. Other Latina youths express their frustrations with the stigmatization of their accents by students. As Fine and colleagues (2007) note, one adolescent Latina who was learning English in a New York City public school feared humiliation because of her accent; therefore, she remained quiet in school, especially around her White/European American peers whose first language was English (p. 87). Creese and Kambere (2003) suggest that accents are not about communication; rather, accents are “…about power and exclusion, marginalization and „othering‟, racism and discrimination” (p. 571). It appears that English-speaking accents draw a distinction between girls who are perceived as intellectually and socially competent and incompetent, White/European American and non-White/European American, and U.S citizen and immigrant. “Self-making:” Popular Culture and (Re)Constructing Belonging By and large, how adolescent Latinas use popular culture to construct a sense of belonging remains uninvestigated (Valdivia, 2008; Vargas, 2005; 2006). Yet, there is a small but growing body of empirical research in media studies that explores the relationship between Latina youths, popular culture, nation, and belonging (Mayer, 2003; Vargas, 2006). While this research may touch briefly upon the representation of Latinas in popular culture, it focuses primarily upon identity formation and notions of belonging. Foregrounded in this literature are the multifaceted ways that Latina youths articulate, reinscribe, and challenge conventional notions of belonging in the United States and their “home” countries. That is, media studies research on Latina youths and popular culture underscores how adolescent Latinas use media to negotiate conventional constructs of citizenship. Foremost in this literature is the work of Mayer (2003) who engages Mexican-American girls in Texas about issues of popular culture, identity, and belonging. As mentioned previously, Mayer presents a rich ethnography of a community center in San Antonio where she worked with working-class, second-generation girls to understand the connections between identity and belonging. With a focus on notions of community, Mayer highlights how Mexican-American girls‟ notions of citizenship are constructed and maintained within everyday interactions and the transnational Spanish language media. She documents how her research participants struggled to create a sense of belonging in the United States because of experiences with racism, sexism, and classism. Therefore, the girls use telenovelas (Spanish language soap operas) in order to

31 rearticulate a notion of belonging and as a means of repositioning themselves within the U.S. race, gender, and class hierarchies and in relation to Mexico. For example, one girl comments that she can relate to telenovelas because some of the characters, particularly the indigenous characters, used to experience marginalization but were eventually “accepted” into Mexican society. Mayer‟s participants‟ use of telenovelas to construct a sense a belonging that spans national borders points to a transnational situation in which many young Latinas live. Moreover, the girls‟ engagement with telenovelas suggests that Latina youth may be rooted in more than one place, and that experiences of multiplicitous belonging need to be addressed. Given that many Latina youths straddle generations (e.g. their parents and/or their grandparents may have been born in Latin America), cultures, and nations, engaging them in their media practices in relation to questions of national belonging potentially illuminates issues on citizenship as well as youth and transnational migration. Theoretical Framework I have chosen feminist transnationalism as the theoretical framework11 to guide my exploration of the discursive and material conditions of possibility for Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations. This particular conceptual approach augments analyses of gender in ways that take into consideration current and historical global issues affecting women and girl‟s lives (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994). Feminist transnational projects, which typically draw upon feminist, Marxist, postcolonial, poststructural, and anti-racist frameworks, demonstrate a refusal to choose among economic, cultural, and political concerns and analyses (Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kaplan & Grewal, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Lowe; 1996). Generally speaking, feminist transnationalism highlights the constitutive relations of gender, sexuality, race, and nation by analyzing the inequalities that are produced by global capital, as well as how these inequalities differently influence the lives of women and girls (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Alarcón, Kaplan, & Moallem, 1999; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mohanty, 2003; Villenas, 2006). Rather than focusing on how women‟s lives are structured in relation to men, feminist transnational projects bring attention to relations among women and girls of various races, classes, sexualities, and nationalities (Alarcón et al., 1999). Yet, feminist transnationalism cannot be authoritatively

11 I use theoretical framework as an umbrella term to describe and include the ontological, epistemological, and methodological approaches to my research questions. I recognize that other researchers use the term “paradigm” in this way (Lather, 2006). Yet, I have chosen not to use “paradigm” because of how it traditionally reinscribes scientific ways of thinking (Benton & Craib, 2001).

32 or unambiguously mapped, outlined, or defined. As scholars before me have suggested, feminist transnationalism is a heterogeneous conceptual framework that depends on a variety of factors, including the phenomenon being studied, the distinct geographical setting in which it appears, and the meaning it holds for groups of women and girls who are diversely situated (Grewal, Gupta, & Ong, 1999). The purpose, then, of this section is to clarify how I employ feminist transnationalism within the context of this particular project. I first present a broad overview of concepts and frameworks under feminist transnationalism that are of particular concern to me. I then discuss the situated character of Latina feminist transnationalism that guides my analyses in later chapters. Feminist Transnationalism Feminist transnationalism is informed by the political, theoretical, and methodological concerns of numerous disciplines, including, but not limited to, anthropology, cultural studies, literary studies, women‟s studies, girlhood studies, history, sociology, and education (Cho, 2009; Habell-Pallán, 2005; Kim-Puri, 2005; Lowe, 1996; Ong, 1999; Stoler, 2006; Villenas, 2006; Weems, 2009). As stated above, feminist transnationalism is broadly concerned with the intersections of gender, sexuality, race, and nation in the context of global capitalism. It is more specifically attentive to political, economic, cultural, and social processes produced by globalization, and the role of gender, sexuality, race, and state institutions in the making and unmaking of the “nation” and “bodies” that fit and do not fit the “national character” (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Alarcon et al., 1999; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mayuzumi, 2009). While it is beyond the scope of this project to situate feminist transnationalism within a broader history of feminist movements, I believe it is important to bring attention to the differences between transnational and international, or global, feminisms. A brief description of these differences is meaningful because although “transnational” and “international” are often used interchangeably, these lines of feminist practices have different links to nationalisms, colonialisms, racisms, and imperialisms (Alarcón et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005). That is, transnational and international feminist approaches offer different understandings of democracy and, therefore, open up different possibilities for socially just changes in education, particularly as these changes relate to Latina youths.

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The Contrasts between International and Transnational Feminisms The concepts of “woman” and “women” have been central to much Western-Anglo feminist scholarship and activism (Anzaldúa, 1990; Arrendondo, Hurtado, Klahn, Nájera- Ramίrez, & Zavella, 2003; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Mohanty, 2003; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981). These concepts assume a set of shared biological characteristics as well as uniform experiences of subordination and oppression. According to Kim-Puri (2005), Western-Anglo feminist research in a number of areas (e.g. global feminism, reproductive labor, women‟s human rights) treats “woman” an essential category of existence that defines all women (p. 141). Within these lines of research, “women” are treated as a universally homogeneous group and other aspects of women‟s identities, such as race, class, sexuality, language, ability, and nationality, are rendered invisible and/or irrelevant. Because some Western-Anglo approaches assume that women as a group are not multiply constituted, gender is the primary category of analysis. When gender is assumed to be the fundamental organizing principle and category difference, the various ways that power and inequality are structured in different historical and cultural contexts is distorted (Anzaldúa, 1990; Arrendondo et al., 2003; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mohanty, 2003; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981). Thus, these approaches emphasize “global sisterhood,” which is a community that is supposedly inclusive of all women across the world in different geographical spaces. International feminism refers to these notions of “women” and “global sisterhood” (Alarcón et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997). Feminist transnational scholars critique the underpinnings of international feminism and global sisterhood, distinguishing between “transnational” and “international” approaches to feminist politics. Alexander and Mohanty (1997) point out that international feminism and global sisterhood are often times premised on a center/periphery model where Western-Anglo women constitute the center and women of color and Third World women constitute the periphery. One limitation of this focus is that analyses of gender remain embedded in the vantage point of the West and research on women of color and Third World women is evaluated within that framework (Anzaldúa, 1990; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mohanty, 2003; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981). In other words, international feminism and global sisterhood make the racial, cultural, and economic relations of power among women invisible and privilege Western-Anglo women while marginalizing women of color and Third World women.

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Alarcón, Kaplan, and Moallem (1999) also bring attention to another underpinning of international feminism and global sisterhood that privileges Western-Anglo women. They write, “The discourses of „international‟ or „global‟ feminism rely on political and economic as well as cultural concepts of discrete nations who can be placed in comparative or relational status, always maintaining the West as the center” (p. 12). As Alarcón and her colleagues explain, international feminism maintains boundaries between nations, making nations look “natural” rather than a product or result of imperialism. By reinforcing the discrete nature of the nation, international feminist approaches are unable to grasp how the national and the international are mutually constituted (Alarcón et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Anzaldúa, 1987/2007). Furthermore, by maintaining a separation between the international and the national, other aspects of women‟s identities, such as sexuality, race, class and nationality, are erased from any notion of the international. Units of analyses are based on local, regional or national culture rather than transnational relations and processes across cultures (Arrendondo et al., 2003, p. 4; Alarcón et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997). Feminist transnational frameworks highlight relations across national borders in order to address the convergence of cultural, political, and economic disparities (Arrendondo et al., 2003). The use of the term “transnational” indicates a destabilization of boundaries of nation, race, gender, sexuality, and class (Alarcón et al., 1999; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994). In other words, feminist transnational approaches conceptualize spaces as interconnected and are suspicious of binaries (eg. North/South, East/West, tradition/modernity, local/global, margin/center, and First World/Third World) because binaries tend to homogenize and assign unequal values to groups of people and regions of the world (Anzaldúa, 1990; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981; Oboler, 1995; Valdivia, 2000; Villenas, 2006; 2009). More specifically, this framework troubles hierarchical constructions of nations, knowledges, and people, particularly as these constructions objectify women of color and Third World women and maintain Euro-American centered representations of the “other” (Anzaldúa, 1990; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mohanty, 2003; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981; Oboler, 1995; Villenas, 2006; 2009; Weems, 2009). Unlike international feminism, feminist transnational frameworks do not assume the “naturalness” of the nation and are, thus, useful for complicating traditional ideas of immigration, assimilation, and citizenship, particularly as these ideas intersect with gender,

35 sexuality, and race (Alarcón et al, 1999). Briggs, McCormick, and Way (2008) write “that „transnationalism‟ can do to the nation what gender did for sexed bodies: provide the conceptual acid that denaturalizes all their deployments, compelling us to acknowledge that the nation, like gender, is a thing contested, interrupted, and always shot through with contradictions” (p. 627). In other words, the nation, similar to gender, is not an already predetermined, fixed category, but rather an organizing principle of knowledge and social relations that changes over time. Furthermore, if the nation is not predetermined, static, or fixed, then its regulatory practices (e.g. citizenship) that authorize access to its resources and organize social relations are also not predetermined, static, or fixed (Alarcón et al, 1999; Kim-Puri, 2005). A Latina Feminist Transnational Framework In order to be more specific about how I employ a feminist transnational approach, I borrow from Kim-Puri (2005) and Mayuzumi (2008) who elucidate four key aspects of feminist transnational projects. These four dimensions include the following approaches: (i) bridging cultural and material analyses; (ii) highlighting the importance of social structures and the state; (iii) analyzing linkages across cultural contexts; and, (iv) stressing the importance of empirical research on lived experience. In addition to discussing these key elements in feminist transnational analyses, the purpose of the next section is to also situate these elements within a Latina framework. I investigate the situated character of Latina feminist transnationalism by focusing the circulation of people, images, and goods between the United States and Latin America. However, it is important to note that some of the ideas I draw upon, particularly for the first aspect of feminist transnational analyses, are from Asian and Southeast Asian feminist transnational studies (e.g. Kim-Puri, 2005; Lowe, 1996; Ong, 1999). As I hope to demonstrate, these studies are relevant for work that is situated in multiple communities and contexts. Cultural/material. The feminist transnational framework used in this study emphasizes the importance of both material and cultural analyses, which it argues are interconnected and shaped through each other. This framework suggests that it is insufficient to focus our attention only on cultural representations and cultural discourses. Kim-Puri (2005) explains, “…the materiality is thoroughly mediated and inflected by cultural meanings just as the cultural exists through material structures and relations” (p.143). Feminist transnational scholars take into account how power, structures, organizations, identities, subjectivity, and movements emerge in relation to historical, economic, and political processes. For example, Ong (1999) describes how

36 the intensification of unequal distribution of resources, especially during the current moment of globalization,12 differentially shapes not only people‟s migration patterns, but also their behaviors, identities, and relationships in culturally specific ways. She also explains that people‟s responses to these structures, in given historical conditions, are culturally specific rather than universal and homogenous. Because Ong (1999) does not separate the cultural from the material, she is able to trace the particular “cultural logics” that inform different personal, community, national, and regional approaches to processes of globalization (p. 22-23). For instance, one way to illuminate the links between the cultural logics of human action and economic and political processes is to explore the impact of Arizona‟s Latina/o immigration politics, particularly SB 1070, on the everyday lives of Latina/o youths and adults. Additionally, Mayuzumi (2008) points out that Lowe‟s (1996) analysis of the political nature of culture is also pertinent to a feminist transnational cultural/material analysis. Lowe (1996) describes how cultural politics are connected to state ideologies and practices that construct who is and who is not a “legitimate” citizen. Although she acknowledges that the law is an apparatus that most literally governs citizens, Lowe (1996) argues that U.S. national culture, or “the collectively forged images, histories and narratives that place, displace, and replace individuals in relation to the national polity” (p. 2), plays a considerable role in the formation of citizens, where they live, what they remember, and what they forget. In other words, it is through U.S. national cultures that an individual is represented within the political sphere as a citizen (p. 2). Lowe‟s (1996) analysis highlights how culture is political in that it can be used both as a means of exclusion and as a way for individuals and collectivities to “imagine and practice both subject and community differently” (p. 3). By questioning how culture is used, who uses it, and in what particular context it is used, Lowe points out that power, rather than flowing unidirectionally, is a complex web of economic, political, and social relations. Thus, it is imperative to bridge cultural and material analyses within a Latina feminist transnational framework because this approach attempts to avoid binaries such as

12 Globalization is not a new phenomenon. However, recent globalization is more intensified with regard to the flow of capital, images, ideas, people, goods, services, and raw materials (Kim-Puri, 2005; Mohanty, 2003; Ong, 1999). This intensification is a result of communication technologies (e.g. the internet) and the incorporation of capitalist modes of production and market ideologies on a world scale (Mohanty, 2003; Ong, 1999). Feminist transnational scholars tend to focus their analyses on heterogeneous and situated cultural practices that are produced by globalization (Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Ong, 1999), which are analyses that are absent by researchers who examine globalization primarily through its economic dimensions or homogenization of cultural forms that flow from West to East.

37 power/resistance, center/periphery, dominant/dominated, and North/South (Alarcón et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Anzaldúa, 1990; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mohanty, 2003; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981; Oboler, 1995; Villenas, 2006; 2009). For instance, Latina feminists emphasize that the way international agencies and U.S. economic policies operate in Latin America and impact Latinas in the United States need to be taken into consideration when theorizing or doing empirical research on unequal structures of values, desires, and needs for different groups of women (Anzaldua 1987/2007; Galvan, 2001; Villenas & Moreno, 2001). They assert that understanding Latinas‟ experiences must address both the economic processes and cultural practices which are produced. Social structures and the state. The feminist transnational framework I used in this study highlights the importance of social structures and the state. More specifically, this framework points out how social structures and the state are modeled after empires, imperialisms, colonialisms, and nationalisms that are articulated through gendered, sexualized, and racialized imageries (Alarcón et al., 1999; Chavez, 2008; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mayuzumi, 2008; Valdivia, 2004). As numerous Latina/o scholars have pointed out, Latinas/os have been in what is now called the United States since the late 16th and early 17th centuries, predating Western European colonizers (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Chavez, 2008; Flores, 1997; 2000; Flores & Benmayor, 1997; Oboler, 1995; Rocco, 2004). The United States arose as a White colonist society from conquest and colonization of both indigenous peoples and lands, including and former Mexican territory (Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California). Economic, political, legal, and cultural rights such as immigration laws, citizenship, public education, and medical and social services reflect racialized, gendered, and (hetero)sexualized discrimination against Latinas/os and other non-White people (Chavez, 2008; Flores, 1997; 2000; Flores & Benmayor, 1997; Ngai, 2004; Oboler, 1995; Rocco, 2004; Rosaldo, 1994; 1997; Takaki, 1993; Valencia, 2005). Lowe (1996) also analyzes “multiculturalism” in the United States as a hegemonic cultural formation. She argues that “multiculturalism” equalizes differences within and among racial and ethnic groups while simultaneously masking historical and current racial inequalities that have not been economically and politically settled and are, therefore, left untouched. Along similar lines, Aparicio (1994) writes, “Thus, those definitions of multiculturalism and processes of implementation that do not probe into unearned advantages based on skin color, socioeconomic class, and sexual orientation, among other variables of power, are destined to

38 leave intact the very inequities protected and perpetuated by social institutions and structures” (p. 576). Put another way, the dominant way in which multiculturalism in the U.S. is conceptualized and implemented further consolidate and broaden White privilege and power, particularly in economic and political terrains. Moreover, feminist transnational scholars point out that globalization has intensified (i) the flow of bodies across national borders; (ii) the inequitable distribution of resources within and across nations; and (iii) and nationalist discourses that racialize, gender, and sexualize the question of citizenship by constructing people of color and immigrants, especially women, as “illegitimate” (Alarcon et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mayuzumi, 2008; Villenas, 2009; Villenas & Moreno, 2001). In order to see the relations of power that impact Latina populations in the United States, it is helpful to explore some of the historical and current discourses and images that have constructed “Latinas/os.” “Illegal alien” is a construct that distinguishes Latina/o immigrants from other immigrant groups, and illustrates (White) fear of Latina/os in the United States. This term was used to describe the fear of Mexican immigrants who attempted to cross the border into the United States after the Immigration Act of 192413 and who were perceived as engaging in criminal behavior (Chavez, 2008; Ngai, 2004). The fear of “illegal aliens” has emerged at different points throughout U.S. history, particularly during times of economic depression when Latinas/os, including those born in Latin America and the United States, are perceived as a threat to White/European American cultural and economic dominance (Chavez, 2008; Ngai, 2004). Although Mexicans are often the target of “illegal alien,” U.S. public discourse as exemplified through news stories, TV, and radio talk shows and movies frequently includes immigration from Latin America in general, as well as U.S. born Americans of Latin American descent (Chavez, 2008). Rocco (2004) explains one of the historical antecedents to the current homogenization and fear of Latina/o communities in the United States. He writes that the construction of Mexicans as racialized “foreigners” in the Southwest following the Mexican- American War in 1848 has served as the lens through which later arriving Latina/o immigrants have been conceptualized. Despite Latina/o communities‟ very different histories and modes of

13 The Immigration Act of 1924 established a national origins quota system which created major restrictions in the flow of immigrants from Asia, Africa, Latin America, and Southern and Eastern Europe. For a more detailed discussion of the nuances of the Immigration Act of 1924, see Mae M. Ngai (2004), Impossible subjects: Illegal aliens and the making of modern America (Princeton, NJ: Press).

39 incorporation into the United States (Flores, 1997; 2000; González, 2005; Oboler, 1995), “the majority of Latino[/a] groups have been categorized within a pre-existing racialized cultural imaginary produced, limited, and modified by the dominant cultural institutional apparatus such as the media, legal, and educational spheres” (Rocco, 2004, p. 10). The most recent manifestation of “illegal alien” and fear of Latinas/os is arguably Arizona‟s Senate Bill (SB) 1070, which basically makes the failure to carry immigration documents a crime and gives the Arizona police the power to detain anyone who is “reasonably suspected” of being undocumented. Legislation such as the Immigration Act of 1924 and SB 1070 suggest that Latinas/os are an undesirable, unwanted, and illegitimate population vis-à-vis the United States. Dominant, U.S. discourses on Latin America and Latinas can be found in U.S. media and popular culture. These discourses often operate within a Eurocentric mind/body binary to (re)produce stereotypical images and representations of Latin America as (hyper)sexualized, culturally unsophisticated, and feminine with the United States being cultured, intellectual, and masculine (Chavez, 2008; Guzmán and Valdivia, 2004). These discourses also play a central role in the racialized, gendered, and sexualized construction of “Latinas” in the United States. Guzmán and Valdivia (2004) explain that “…Whiteness is associated with a disembodied intellectual tradition free from the everyday desires of the body, and non-Whiteness is associated with nature and the everyday needs of the body to consume food, excrete waste, and reproduce sexually” (p. 211). As a result, dominant representations of Latinas, both in the news media and popular culture, emphasize body parts such as the hips, waste, and buttocks that simultaneously work as signifiers of sexual desire and fertility as well as bodily waste and racial contamination (Chavez, 2008; Guzmán and Valdivia, 2004). Through these representations, Latinas are positioned as continual foreigners and a cultural threat to the United States, especially in relation to dominant constructions of White/European American intelligence, femininity, and sexuality. Valdivia (1998) also points out another binary through which Latinas are represented – the virgin/whore opposition. Within this binary, the “virgin” Latina is depicted as either a rosary- praying maid or devoted mother, and the “whore” Latina is depicted as sexually out of control. As Morrison (2009) explains, U.S. filmmakers typically cast Latina actresses as asexual mothers and housemaids, on the one hand, and hypersexual “spitfires” and prostitutes on the other. Chavez (2008), however, calls attention to how the “virgin” Latina, because of her uncontrolled reproduction as a selfless and obedient Catholic wife and mother, actually combines with the

40 figure of the hypersexual “whore” Latina to produce the perceived threat of supposedly high fertility rates within the Latina population. Thus, even when Latinas are represented as “virginal,” they are still positioned as foreigners who are threatening to the dominant, U.S. culture and society. Not only do the previously described discourses and stereotypical images inform discussions on immigration, health, public policy, and education for Latinas in the United States (Bettie, 2003; Chavez, 2008; Garcίa & Torres, 2009; Garcίa, 2009; Miranda, 2003; Rolón- Dow, 2004), but they also operate as instruments through which U.S. power is grounded in imperialist, colonialist, and nationalist power relations. Linkages across cultural contexts. The feminist transnational framework I use in this study eschews nation-to-nation comparisons that focus on similarities and differences, and instead shifts analyses to linkages across cultural contexts (Alarcon et al, 1999; Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mayuzumi, 2008; Cho, personal communication, April 15, 2010; Martίnez, 2009). These linkages refer to different forms of “border crossing including conceptual, temporal, bureaucratic, geopolitical, geographical, economic, cultural, and so on” (Kim-Puri, 2005, p. 143). Feminist transnational scholars point out that research which is not attentive to linkages tends to normalize and reproduce hegemonic notions of the nation (Alarcon et al, 1999; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Martίnez, 2009). Linkages, unlike nation- to-nation comparisons, highlight the complex, sometimes conflicting, and unequal interconnections that exist across cultural settings. For example, looking at transnationalism and issues affecting Mexican immigrants in New York City, Smith (1998) calls attention to the interdependent relationship between Mexico and the United States and how it shapes social life, identity formation, community building, and policy making in each locality. He stresses the centrality of the Mexican state in the lives of the Mexicans living in New York, thereby suggesting that nation-states must also be considered in transnational analysis of migrations. Further, Smith calls attention to the multiple forms of membership and identity that question the progressive, linear, and all-encompassing assimilation into the United States assumed by the conventional immigration paradigm, as well as the legalistic state membership assumed by the conventional citizenship paradigm (p. 228-229). Similarly, Martίnez (2009) explores larger histories of U.S. / Latin American economic and political relations. She demonstrates how adolescent Mexican girls‟ and boys‟ decisions to immigrate to the United States are often times rooted in a history of U.S. colonialism and

41 economic exploitation that make it difficult for the teenagers to find gainful employment in Mexico. When Mexican adolescents arrive in the United States, Martίnez argues that their decision to find employment rather than attend school is shaped by severe economic conditions in Mexico. In other words, understanding Mexican youths‟ decisions about employment and education require an understanding of unequal economic, political, and immigration policies between the United States and Mexico. Empirical research on lived experiences. The feminist transnational framework I use in this study foregrounds the importance of empirical research on lived experiences for elucidating the various cultural, material, structural, and historical forces, and how these forces shape social relations, hierarchies, identities, and conflicts (Kim-Puri, 2005; Mayuzumi, 2008). Kim-Puri (2005) acknowledges the importance of discursive and textual analyses that, they suggest, are the predominant methodologies in feminist transnational cultural studies, and point out how these analyses have yielded key insights on gender and sexuality. While the intention is not to dichotomize or hierarchize textual analyses and empirical methodologies, Kim-Puri (2005) underscores the importance of the need to empirically ground analyses (p. 149). Rodriguez‟ (2009) qualitative study with Dominican American girls who were raised in both New York City and the Dominican Republic is particularly instructive. Rodrίguez‟ (2009) focus on the transnational educational experiences of Dominican American girls enables her to trace how culturally specific meanings and practices of citizenship are created and how struggles are shaped by gender, class, race, and nation. She writes, “Dominican-American students, as well as many other students in the United States, often grow up with strong ties to two cultures, and two ways of being, which can produce multiple realities, multiple ways of being and communicating in the world” (p. 17). Rodrίguez describes how the young Latinas‟ identities and identifications were shaped by unequal relations of power between the United States and the Dominican Republic. On the one hand, unlike their experiences in Dominican schools, the girls experienced a loss of status, racialization, and devaluation of their Spanish in New York City public schools. On the other hand, the girls‟ identities were shaped by the ways that Dominican schools ameliorated U.S. racism and provided them a way to critique their social position and “subtractive schooling” experiences (Valenzuela, 1999), as well as processes of assimilation. The insights from the Latina youths in Rodrίguez‟ study point to how Latinas often speak from the spaces in between two nations, or borderlands (Anzaldúa,

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1987/2007), where they not only form their identities and sense of belonging, but where they also experience how race, class, gender, language, and nation work simultaneously. Feminist transnational approaches, thus, must not separate theory from lived experiences. Before continuing with my discussion of feminist transnationalism, I would like to take a moment and briefly explain to the reader my understanding of empirical and how lived experiences figures into it. Some philosophers of social science research as well cultural studies practitioners distinguish between “empiricism” and “empirical” (Benton & Craib, 2001; Lewis, 2008; Quantz, 2009a; 2009b). Empiricism is an epistemological framework by which the world and knowledge about it can be described, measured, and understood in an objective form. The findings generated by empiricism are generally treated as universal truths (Benton & Craib, 2001; Lewis, 2008). Empirical, however, is viewed as the methods or strategies that a researcher uses to draw conclusions about, for example, human interactions with each other or the natural world (Lewis, 2008; Quantz, 2009a; 2009b). “The key thing that makes a study „empirical‟ is that it claims to say something about the material world or the way the world of humans is and uses data from the world to support its claim” (Quantz, 2009b, p.2). Unlike empiricism, the findings generated by empirical studies are generally not treated as universal truths, but rather as “part of a multi- forming picture” (Lewis, 2008, p. 33). In a qualitative research context, empirical might broadly be conceived of as “experience” (Lewis, 2008). Feminist cultural studies scholars employ a range of empirical methods such as participant observations, individual interviews, focus groups, and textual analysis to study how girls and groups of girls participate in and construct culture. Put another way, some feminist researchers have used empirical studies to explore girls‟ ways of life or lived experiences. Miranda (2003) adapted some of these empirical methods to her ethnographic study of Chicana gangs and self-identity in California. Her research demonstrates how the girls‟ lived experiences shaped and were shaped by the cultural meanings that circulated in popular and academic representations of Chicana/o youths. Along similar lines, Mayer (2003) used interviews and observations to elucidate the ways that Mexican-American girls used telenovelas in their daily lives to mediate their national and social identities. Other feminist cultural studies scholars examine cultural objects such as literature (Morrison, 2010) and films (Habell-Pallán, 2005; Morrison, 2009; Validivia, 1998) for the cultural meanings embedded in these objects, and to

43 theorize and understand the identities and social relations that are made available. These lines of empirical studies illustrate that there are various sites (popular culture, social sciences, humanities, etc.) that produce girls‟ identities, and how girls accommodate, resist, or reproduce circulating representations. Furthermore, these studies shift to a fluid conceptualization of girls‟ experiences and emphasize the recursive relationship between images and discourses and girls‟ lived experiences. The concept of “Latina-ness” and imagery of Latinas in the United States are embodied by individual Latina teens, shaped by their relations with the United States, their “home” countries and various social institutions, and constructed through gender, sexuality, race, class, nation, and citizenship. I believe that these images, relations, and institutions create a network through which discourses on adolescent Latinas emerge. Furthermore, I believe that these discourses shape and are shaped by Latina youths‟ motivations, desires, and struggles to make themselves into particular kinds of subjects (Mayuzumi, 2008, p. 172; Ong, 1999). It is therefore important to empirically explore the specific, everyday lived experiences of Latina teens and the discursive and material conditions that make these experiences possible. Conclusion This chapter discussed the relevant literature on girls‟ identity formations, cultural citizenship, and adolescent Latinas in order to contextualize this study‟s research questions. The chapter also outlined this study‟s feminist transnational theoretical framework. The existing literature on girls‟ identity formations indicates that the two popular discourses, “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power,” tend to collapse differences (e.g. gender, race, sexuality, class, and nation) amongst girls into a theoretical “whole” rather than illuminating the multifaceted ways that girls‟ lives are shaped. As a result, the experiences of Latina youths are marginalized. While there have been empirical studies to address the theoretical limitations of “Reviving Ophelia” and “Girl Power” in relation to the lives of racialized girls, many of these studies emphasize the role of popular culture and neglect to sufficiently engage formal citizenship as an influence in Latina youths‟ lives. The existing literature also indicates that citizenship is shaped by legal, economic, racial, and cultural boundaries, and that an individual‟s sense of belonging to and identification with the nation varies. While the concept of cultural citizenship (Ong, 1996) is useful for illuminating how one is formed as a citizen through both the state and daily social interactions, this concept has yet to be more fully integrated into scholarship on Latina youths.

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Given that Latina youths are frequently positioned between across national and cultural borders, it is important to center citizenship as an issue in empirical research on Latina youths‟ identity formations. A feminist transnational theory, which is relatively unexplored in relation to the lived experiences of adolescent Latinas, provides a means to investigate what are potentially transnational and transcultural citizenship and identity formations for Latina youths. The following chapter provides the framework for conducting this study. It describes the research processes, including participant selection and procedures for collecting and analyzing data. It also addresses concerns about research ethics and validity.

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CHAPTER 3 METHODOLOGY Introduction This study explores the discursive and materials conditions of Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations in South Florida.14 To do so, I examine ethnographic interviews, participant produced cultural productions and information regarding U.S. visas, residency and citizenship. As mentioned in Chapter 1, the research questions that guide this study are: (i) Through what discursive and material conditions are middle-class Latina youths in South Florida made into “American citizens?”; (ii) Through what discursive and material conditions are middle-class Latina youths in South Florida made into “Latina” subjects?: (iii) How do middle- class Latina youths in South Florida negotiate racialized national belonging and citizenship across cultural and national borders?; (iv) How do middle-class Latina youths in South Florida negotiate their racialized identities across cultural and national borders?; and (v) What are the educational implications of this study‟s findings? The remainder of this chapter, which is organized into four sections, elucidates this dissertation‟s methodology. In the first section, I discuss philosophical issues and debates in the social sciences and situate my project within these debates. In the second section, I describe how the theoretical framework discussed in Chapter 2, feminist transnationalism, connects to my methods of collecting and analyzing empirical materials. In the third section, I address some of the conversations on research ethics and validity and outline the conventions I used to establish trustworthiness. And finally, in the fourth section, I conclude this chapter with a brief summary of the information presented. Philosophical Issues in Social Sciences Paradigm proliferation (Lather, 2006) and qualitative researcher as bricoleur (Denzin & Lincoln, 2008, p. 5-8) are established practices within qualitative research in education. These practices are political in that they explicitly come into tension with the scientifically based research (SBR) movement and its imposition of positivist science, especially in education, as the

14 As explained in Chapter 1, by material conditions, I am referring to the social, cultural, economic, and political resources that shape expectations and roles for individuals and groups of people. By discursive conditions, I am referring to the arrangements in different contexts which shape how knowledge about a particular topic is understood, embodied, and practiced in specific ways. I drew from Gore and Gitlin (2004) who explain how the discursive and material conditions in schools and higher education differently shape how teachers and academics approach questions in education.

46 yardstick by which all “real” and “good” research can be measured, truth claims verified, and policy, curriculum, and pedagogy designed (Denzin & Giardina, 2008; Denzin & Lincoln, 2008; Lather, 2006). Furthermore, paradigm proliferation and qualitative researcher as bricoleur are practices that recognize that qualitative research is done within the triple crises of representation, legitimacy, and authority; blurred genres; and, the proliferation of centers (Denzin & Lincoln, 2008; Lather, 2006). In other words, these practices value multiplicity in ways of knowing and producing knowledge. Paradigm proliferation and qualitative researcher as bricoleur are practices that also value situated and partial knowledges (Haraway, 1988) as well as the methodological and epistemological messiness of qualitative research that exceeds easy categorization (Lather, 2006). This dissertation is neither grounded in a scientifically based research movement nor does it offer a transparent account of reality. It is not what Haraway (1988) calls “the god trick,” which is an illusory idea that it is possible to have “a vision from everywhere and nowhere” (p. 589). Put simply, my project and its findings are not objective and value-free; rather, this text is “situated knowledge” (Haraway, 1988). As I suggested in Chapter 1, my perspective is partial, a consequence of my own histories and social locations. Yet, this does not mean that all knowledges and perspectives are equal, that everything is relative. “It is not that all perspectives are equal, but that they are all situated, contextual, from a place invested with more or less power” (Bettie, 2003, p. 23). While the situated and partial nature of perspectives may seem like impossible conditions under which to construct and produce knowledge, they are charged with political possibilities and alliances. As Haraway explains, situated knowledges and partial perspectives require ongoing, critical conversations among different “„fields‟ of interpreters and decoders” in order to join “partial views and halting voices” while simultaneously recognizing that “knowledge is a power-sensitive conversation” (p. 590). I acknowledge that readers of this dissertation will have different views and that these views will be differently empowered; yet, I welcome alternative interpretations. While my text is situated knowledge and my perspective is partial, I present my findings in Chapter 4 as a “realist tale” (Van Maanen, 1988). In realist tales, the author is both absent and omnipotent. Van Maanen (1988) explains realist tales when he writes, Realist tales are not multivocal texts where an event is given meaning first in one way, than another, and then still another. Rather a realist tale offers one reading

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and culls its facts carefully to support that reading. Little can be discovered in such texts that has not been put there by the fieldworker as a way of supporting a particular interpretation. (p. 52-53) The cultural representations that are produced and conveyed in my text are presented as authentic interpretations (Van Maanen, 1988, p. 45). I am mindful that feminist researchers, particularly Latina and South Asian feminist researchers, critique the authority of realist tales for its androcentrism, ethnocentrism, and invisible claims to truth (Behar, 1993; Villenas, 2000; Visweswaran, 1994). In their ethnographic studies, Behar (1993), Villenas (2000), and Visweswaran (1994) are not interested in discovering a fixed and/or essential “truth” about their research participants. Their concerns, rather, are epistemological. Behar, Villenas, and Visweswaran question (i) how researchers arrive at what we call the “truth;” (ii) whose epistemology produces the “truth,” (iii) what is the truth produced by different epistemologies; and, (iv) what are the effects of the different truths. In other words, as Latina (Behar and Villenas) and South Asian (Visweswaran) researchers who work in the United States, Behar, Villenas, and Visweswaran attempt to locate themselves in transnational fields of power and in the production of a particular knowledge about the “other.” While I am aware that my histories, location(s), and political context(s) inform every phase in this dissertation process, I borrow from Bettie (2003) when I write that this happens in ways that are not always transparent to me. I believe that to make completely transparent the ways that I have been produced as a gendered, sexualized, racialized, classed, and national subject would be to perform the “god trick” that Haraway (1988) warns against. If all knowledge is situated and partial, then my own knowledge about myself is also situated and partial. My intention is not to dismiss the importance of critical reflexivity in qualitative research. The importance of such reflexivity, as uncomfortable as it may be, has been previously noted (Pillow, 2003). Rather, as a doctoral candidate and novice researcher who is attempting to demonstrate her “expert authority” by making claims about the subjects of my inquiry, I do not feel ready to trouble the claims that I make in ways that, I fear, might subvert an authority I have not yet established. So, for the time being, I prefer to narrate my findings as a realist tale. Methods of Empirical Research In this section, I provide a detailed description of the processes for conducting this research. While I describe the research sites, I wait until the following chapter to describe the

48 participants. With the exception of the county and school district, I use pseudonyms for the city and school in order maintain confidentiality. I also describe how I collected and analyzed the data. Sites In fall 2010, I recruited all research participants from Broward County, Florida. Broward, which is located in South Florida, is the second largest county in the state with 1.8 million residents. Broward County is also urban, diverse, and multi-ethnic. In 2009, Latinas/os comprised 24.6% of the population; African-Americans and Black Caribbeans collectively comprised 25.9% of the population; together, Asians, Native Hawaiians, and Pacific Islanders comprised 3.5% of the population; American Indians comprised 0.5% of the population; and, Whites/European-Americans comprised 46% of the population (U.S. Census, 2010). More than 25% of Broward County‟s residents are first-generation, including people who immigrated from Central and South America, Haiti, Jamaica, and other parts of the Caribbean. Of the first- generation population, more than 70% are from Latin America (Broward County, 2010). Additionally, all research participants attended Broward County Public Schools (BCPS) at the time of this study. BCPS is the sixth largest school district in the United States with nearly 257,000 students enrolled in the 2010-2011 academic year. It is the U.S.‟s largest fully accredited public school district. BCPS, which has students from 173 different countries speaking 53 different languages, offers services in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and Creole French (BCPS, 2010a). All of the Latina youths who participated in my project lived in Palmetto City (pseudonym). Palmetto City is culturally diverse and family friendly, meaning that it offers multicultural activities and festivals which focus on and encourage family engagement. At the time of this study, there were more than 55,000 residents in Palmetto City and Latinas/os comprised between 40-45% of the total population. The median home value and household income in Palmetto City were above U.S. national averages, which were respectively $142,500 and $50, 303 (U.S. Census, 2008). More than half of Palmetto City residents over the age of 25 had earned at least a bachelor‟s degree. And finally, between 35-40% of Palmetto City residents were first-generation and almost 50% spoke a language other than English in their homes.15

15 Citations have been omitted and numbers and percentages have been approximated in order to keep the research site confidential.

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Each of the research participants was recruited from Palmetto City High School (pseudonym), which was ranked in the top 25% of high schools in the state of Florida. Palmetto City High School (PCHS), which was less than 10 years old, was opened in order to relieve overcrowding at another local high school. The high school offers a wide range of extracurricular and academic pursuits, including athletics; academic and community service clubs; and, Advanced Placement (AP) classes in English, Spanish, and French languages and literatures, science, math, art, and music. With the exception of one school year, PCHS has consistently earned top marks and met all Florida state public school accountability requirements. At the time of this study, over 3,750 students attended PCHS, with a student population that consisted of 6% Asian youths, 4% Black Caribbean and African American youths, 46% Latina/o youths, and 44% White/European American youths. Moreover, 10-15% of the students were classified as English Language Learners (ELL).16 According to the Broward County school district website, PCHS was recognized as one of the 15 schools in the U.S. for increasing access to AP courses for traditionally underserved student populations. More specifically, PCHS had the highest percentage of Latina/o students in Broward County who scored a 3 or higher on AP exams in spring 2010 (BCPS, 2010b). Almost all PCHS graduates are college bound and attend an array of universities that include in- and out- of-state schools public and private schools as well as Ivy League colleges. Although the median home value and household income in Palmetto City are above U.S. national averages, not all students who attend PCHS come from this economic strata; rather, 10-15% of the students are on free and reduced lunch. Negotiating Access My university‟s review board granted permission to conduct this study in September 2010 (see Appendix A). Because this study did not take place in Palmetto City High School, I did not need further approval from Broward County Public School district‟s regulatory body for research. Former colleagues, who are either teachers or administrators at PCHS, served as liaisons for me to the Latina youths. Using a recruitment email (see Appendix B), I contacted both teachers and administrators at PCHS in September and October 2010, asking them to suggest one or two Latina youths who might be willing to participate in my project. Proweller

16 Again, citations have been omitted and numbers and percentages approximated in order to keep the school confidential.

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(1998), Daza (2006) and Subedi and Rhee (2008) point out that negotiating access is not something a researcher does once. Rather, negotiating access is ongoing throughout the research process. I continually had to negotiate access to teachers and administrators‟ time to assist me in recruiting participants. I also continually had to negotiate access to the girls and their parents‟ time, especially because many of the girls did not drive and relied on their parents for transportation, as well as the girls and their parents‟ spaces, particularly if the interviews were conducted in the girls‟ homes. My status as a former PCHS teacher, long-time resident of Broward County, and university researcher helped me to establish lines of communication with the participants and their parents. Participant Selection I initially intended to use snowball sampling (Creswell, 2007; Miner-Rubino, Jayaratne, & Konik; 2007) in order to recruit research participants. However, most of the Latina youths who were recommended agreed to participate in my study. I therefore found it unnecessary to ask the girls to invite others in their social networks to also participate. Instead, I used purposive sampling (Creswell, 2007) and recruited 8 Latina youths who were students at PCHS.17 Purposeful sampling is defined as a qualitative research strategy whereby the inquirer deliberately chooses individuals because they can inform an understanding of the research question in more purposeful ways than other choices (Creswell, 2007). Maxwell (2005) explains that purposeful sampling is often known as criterion-based selection (p. 88). All research requires informed consent of research participants. When working with minors, parental consent must be obtained before data collection can begin (Piper & Simmons, 2005; Proweller, 1998). In October and November 2010, I met individually with 12 potential research participants at a location and time of her choosing. During these meetings, I described the project to each girl and her parents if they were present, answering any questions that were asked. I also gave the potential research participants one letter describing the project (see Appendix C), two consent forms (see Appendices D and E), and a media consent and release form (see Appendix F).18 One of the consent forms was specifically for the parents/guardians

17 Except for the two girls who were close friends, I do not believe the other 6 girls were friends. These 6 girls may have known of each other by name or through a shared teacher who helped to recruit participants. But based on the information they shared with me during the interviews, I do not believe these 6 girls socialized and “hung out” with the same circles of friends either in or out of school. 18 Because this project uses participant produced cultural productions as a method of data collection, a Media Consent and Release form was required for IRB approval. It was by reading Hewitt‟s (2009) dissertation that I

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(see Appendix D) while the letter (see Appendix C) and other consent form (see Appendix E) were specifically for the participant. Although I gave the girls self-addressed and stamped envelopes and asked them to mail the consent forms to me if they were interested in participating, all of the girls simply gave the signed forms back to me in person just before beginning the first interview. All 8 girls who agreed to have to the initial meeting with me consented, along with their parents, to participate. Four girls preferred to communicate via phone calls, emails, or text messages and requested that I email the letters and consent forms. All 4 of these girls declined to participate. The 8 Latina youths who participated in my study were between 16 and 18 years old, either juniors or seniors at PCHS, and were Spanish/English bilingual or English-speaking dominant. The girls came from middle-class, two parent households, and self-identified as a girl. Two of the girls were born in the United States while six of the girls were born in Latin America. The girls often used a variety of terms to describe their identities, including their and/or their parents‟ country of origin (i.e. “Mexican,” “Nicaraguan,” “Colombian,” “Venezuelan,” and “American”) and umbrella terms like “Latina” or “Hispanic.” While the participants will be introduced in greater detail in Chapter 4, I believe it is important to inform the reader that, despite my recruitment attempts, none of the Latina youths who participated in my study were of Puerto Rican, Dominican, or Cuban descent. Qualitative educational researchers have offered critical insights into the politics and ethics of researching historically marginalized communities, often times focusing on Euro- American methodological and epistemological bias that continues to exploit and misrepresent marginalized communities‟ knowledge (Bettie, 2003; Delgado Bernal, Elenes, Godinez, & Villenas, 2006; Denzin & Lincoln, 2008; Dillard, 2000; Miranda, 2003; Subedi & Rhee, 2008). I believe that my inability to recruit Puerto Rican, Dominican, and Cuban girls is due, in part, to the lack of clarification I offered regarding my ethical intentions in this research project. Such clarification, particularly for Puerto Rican and Dominican girls for whom “research” may signify U.S. imperialism and colonialism, is imperative (Subedi & Rhee, 2008). I also believe that my

became aware of the necessity of the Media Consent and Release. The form basically grants me, the researcher, permission to edit and use the participants‟ cultural productions. It also waives participants and third party rights of compensation and ownership of the cultural productions. Finally, the Media Consent and Release form releases me, the researcher, from any claims of liability regarding the research.

52 inability to recruit Puerto Rican, Dominican, and Cuban girls is structural. Good intentions and transparent ethics do not necessarily subvert hundreds of years of racism, colonialism, economic exploitation, or the negative consequences of how marginalized communities have been researched and written about in U.S. academia. Nevertheless, no one study can represent the full range of Latina youths‟ experiences living in South Florida. And given that the majority of research on adolescent Latinas focuses on Mexican, Puerto Rican, and Dominican girls who live in California, Texas, or New York (e.g. Alavarez, 2007; Bettie, 2003; Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Dietrich, 1999; Lopez, 2003; Miranda, 2003; Rolón-Dow, 2005; Valenzuela, 1999), my hope is that this study adds voices to the conversation. Methods of Data Collection Many cultural studies projects utilize ethnographic methods (e.g. Daza, 2006; Habell- Pallán, 2005; McRobbie, 1991/2000; Miranda, 2003;Willis, 1977). According to Johnson, Chambers, Raghuram, and Tinknell (2004) and Lewis (2008), ethnographic methods of data collection in cultural studies include observations, interviews, memory work, artifacts, documents, questionnaires, surveys, and audiovisual materials. My study uses three of these methods – questionnaires, interviews, and artifacts – to explore the conditions of possibility for Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations. I also kept an interview log and field journal. In the interview log, I recorded the date, participant‟s name, location, and length of time for each interview. Following Glesne (1999), I made additional notes in the interview log about questions that required revision and/or elaboration; questions that had already been covered; circumstances such as noise or time restrictions that I felt affected the quality of the interview; and, reminders to help me prepare for the next interview (p. 79). In the field journal, I noted the setting of the interviews, my interactions with the participants, and my own feelings and moods. My purpose for keeping the interview log and field journal was to help me recall nuances of the interviews that would not be captured by audio recordings. Qualitative research is an embodied experience that involves excitement, fear, pleasure, anxiety, stress, exhilaration, confusion, and satisfaction (Behar, 1993; Bettie, 2003; Glesne, 1999; Gunaratnam, 2003; Miranda, 2003; Proweller, 1998; Villenas, 2000). In other words, I was aware that all of the emotions I experienced would influence not only what I remembered but also how I remembered. The field journal in particular helped me to link the data sources with the story I constructed.

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Questionnaires One close-ended questionnaire was distributed to each participant prior to the first interview (see Appendix G). I call these questionnaires “personal profile questionnaires” (PPQ). The purpose of the PPQ was to gather background information that would better contextualize each participant‟s story (Proweller, 1998). The PPQ‟s also enabled me to compare the girls‟ responses. The PPQ solicited personal information about the girls and their families‟ background, place of birth, language(s) spoken, numbers of years in Florida, and in-school and out-of-school responsibilities. The PPQ was designed to take about 10 minutes to complete. Based on the girls‟ feedback, the PPQ did, in fact, take about 10 minutes to complete. Each participant was given the option of filling-out a hard copy of the PPQ or completing it electronically. All girls chose to fill-out a hard copy. In addition, before distributing the PPQ to each participant, I reminded her that she could decline to complete any section or all of the PPQ if she wished. All girls completed the entire PPQ. Interviews I conducted three semi-structured interviews with each of the 8 participants. According to Creswell (2007), semi-structured interviews are typically comprised of open-ended questions that are guided by themes the researcher wishes to explore. The open-endedness and flexibility of the questions allows the researcher and respondent to diverge from the interview guide, asking new questions based on what a respondent says (Creswell, 2007; Fontana & Frey, 2000; Glesne, 1999; Maxwell, 2005). Thus, I did not always ask the girls the interview questions in the same order nor did I always ask the girls the same questions and sub-questions. Maxwell (2005) explains the relationship between research questions and interview questions. He writes, “Your research questions formulate what you want to understand; your interview questions are what you ask people in order to gain that understanding” (2005, p. 93, emphasis in original). Furthermore, Glesne (1999) notes that interview questions should be more contextual and specific than research questions; grounded in the theoretical framework and relevant literature a researcher is using; elicit responses that illuminate the object(s) of inquiry; and, drawn from respondent‟s lives (p. 70). Mindful of Maxwell and Glesne‟s advice and borrowing from Proweller‟s (1998) interview questions about girls‟ identity formations, I designed the interview protocols (see Appendices H, I, and J) to elicit data that were relevant to the questions framing my study.

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Because this project utilized feminist transnationalism to explore Latina youths‟ lived experiences and the conditions that make these experiences possible, interview questions included a range of issues (e.g. immigration, life in the United States, ties to countries of birth, gender, race, nationality, citizenship, and education). Additionally, I designed the interview questions to investigate cross-border aspects of the girls‟ identities, beliefs, and activities, and those they were connected to in South Florida (Khagram & Levitt, 2008). The purpose of the first interview (see Appendix H) was to begin establishing trust and rapport with each research participant. Therefore, the first interview was open-ended to allow for more self-generated narratives (Fontana & Frey, 2000). The first interview was as brief as 28 minutes and as long as one hour and 45 minutes. The goal of the second interview (see Appendix I), broadly speaking, was to give each of the girls‟ an opportunity to explain what “Latina” and “citizenship” mean to her. In the second interview, I sought to explore how social, cultural, legal, and economic conditions informed each girl‟s understanding of “Latina” and “citizenship,” and how each girl negotiated these conditions. The second interview lasted anywhere from 58 minutes to 90 minutes. And finally, the third interview (see Appendix J) offered the girls a chance to clarify and expand upon her Who I Am collage, which I explain in the next section. The third interview was between 16 and 62 minutes. I audio-recorded all of the interviews and transcribed them in entirety as soon as possible. “The advantage of full transcription, if we do it ourselves, is a thorough familiarity with the material and its full availability for processing further” (Johnson et al., 2004, p. 235). In the transcriptions, I tried to indicate as many markers of meaning (e.g. sighs, pauses, laughter, emphatic words), including my own voice, as I could (Johnson et al., 2004). I highlighted sentences and phrases that appeared important, making a note of the hour, minute, and/or second. I used the comment feature to note on the right column my own emotions (e.g. laughter, sadness, frustration, exasperation) that I experienced while listening to and transcribing certain segments of the interviews. I also used the comment feature to note initial hunches and make more analytic comments about the script (Glesne, 1999, p. 79).19 I chose not to take notes during the

19 Because this was the first time I had transcribed interviews, let alone copious amounts of interviews, I was very concerned about learning some of the “nuts and bolts” of the process. I was not prepared for how tedious and time- consuming the transcription process would be. A 60 minute interview easily took me four to five hours to transcribe. Nevertheless if the conditions in a novice researcher‟s life allow, I would recommend she transcribe her own interviews to gain deeper insight and greater familiarity with the interviews (and herself), and to begin initial data

55 interviews. Simply put, I wanted to minimize the formality of the interviews with the girls. I did not believe that note-taking, particularly considering the varied relationships of power between me and the girls as well as the sensitive nature of the topics we discussed, would help to create a more informal and comfortable interview atmosphere. Before each interview, I told the girls that they could say as much or as little as they were comfortable with. I also told them that they could turn off the audio-recorder at any time and/or decline to respond to any of the interview questions. Most girls easily and readily took up the conversations and shared what I believe to be very personal and in-depth information. I most certainly did not anticipate some of the intimate experiences, particularly around racism, sexuality, and U.S. residency status that many of the girls shared with me. With the exception of one participant who asked for the audio-recorder to be turned off momentarily during the first interview, I believe the girls at times forgot about the audio-recorder and thought of our interviews as just “hanging out,” “talking,” and “gossiping.” Glesne (1999) advises that “convenient, available, and appropriate” are factors that a researcher should apply when scheduling interviews (p. 78). Therefore, each of the girls decided the schedule and location of her interviews. The interviews were always scheduled after the school day or on the weekend. One of the girls chose to complete all of the interviews in her home while the other girls chose public locations that included coffee houses, fast food restaurants, public libraries, and neighborhood parks. Six of the girls completed the interviews individually while two of the girls, who were obviously very close friends, chose to complete the interviews together. Glesne (1999) also advises researchers to “take what you can get while trying to promote regularity” (p. 78) when scheduling and considering the length of time for interviews. All of the girls had very busy academic schedules that they were trying to balance with their extracurricular activities and their social and family lives. And as I previously mentioned, many of the girls relied on their parents for transportation to and from the interview location. Therefore, it was not just the girls‟ busy schedules and lives that I had to take into consideration. Except for one participant who completed the project in 5 weeks, meeting with the girls on a regular basis was understandably very challenging. So, when four of the participants wanted to complete the first and second interview in one sitting, I enthusiastically agreed.

analysis. However, I recognize that many researchers have constraints on their lives that neither allows them to do the transcriptions nor to do such detailed transcriptions.

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Texts (or artifacts): “Who I Am” collages and U.S. visas and citizenship This study draws upon different texts as data sources. Texts in cultural studies refer to, for example, written language, photographs, films, architecture, television shows, fashion, and a variety of images (Storey, 2003; Turner, 2003). In other words, texts are the artifacts of culture. Rather than being inherent in a text, “meaning is always something a person makes when he or she reads [interprets] a text” (Storey, 2003, p. 41). Both the text and reader are always historically and socially situated and that situatedness informs the reading of a text (Johnson et al., 2004; Storey, 2003; Turner, 2003). No “authentic,” “true,” or “original” meaning of a text exists outside of the historical and social conditions in which the reader and text are situated, and in which they encounter each other (Johnson et al., 2004; Storey, 2003; Turner, 2003). I read texts, or artifacts, alongside other sources of data. “Who I Am” collage. Asking participants to create collages is a less familiar method of data collection. Collages, however, “allow for a different sort of cultural appropriation and personal meaning-making” (Lutrell, 2003, p. 44). For example, Lutrell (2003) argues that by putting together fragments of unrelated images, research participants are able to invest dominant images with their own meaning and transform them through their personal use (p. 44). Along similar lines, Vargas (2006) explains that collages present research participants with an opportunity to express and represent themselves in images and communicate meanings that they might not be able to articulate in words. My focus was on the insights about how the girls narrate their sense of identities, citizenship, and agency that can be drawn from the collages. I gave each of the girls a prompt (see Appendix K) and asked her to create a text called Who I Am collage. Immediately after the completion of the second interview, I gave the participants a plastic bag that was filled with a variety of materials such as poster board, magazines, glitter, stickers, markers, feathers, artificial flowers, ribbon, scissors, and glue. I reminded the girls that they should feel free to use as much or little of the materials that I provided, and that they were welcome to use their own supplies. I also reminded the girls that they could decline to create the collage. All 8 participants created the Who I Am collage, which I digitized within 24 hours after the completion of the third interview. I presumed the girls would have busy schedules, so I originally intended to give them 2 weeks to create the collage. I did not think the collage would take them any longer than 2 hours to complete. I stressed to each participant that the collage was not being graded and, therefore,

57 did not need to be a finished and perfect product. Based on feedback from the participants, the collage took them anywhere from 30 minutes to 2.5 hours to create. I also originally intended to analyze the collage for one week before conducting the final interview. However, and as mentioned previously, the girls were balancing multiple demands in their lives and scheduling times to meet could be quite challenging. Although extremely difficult for me given the time and financial constraints I was under, I tried to remain flexible and open to the length of time the girls needed to create the collage. One of the girls completed the collage within 2 weeks of the second interview, while the other girls took anywhere between 3 and 7 weeks to complete the collage. Additionally, rather than keep the collages for a week to analyze before scheduling the final interview, I chose to do the third interview when the girls returned their collages. Again, this decision was made due to challenges scheduling interviews and my own time and financial constraints. U.S. visas and citizenship. Johnson and colleagues (2004) advise cultural studies researchers to be attentive to various public sources of data when deciding on their methods of data collection. More specifically, Johnson and colleagues urge researchers to extend their own limited knowledge about their object(s) of inquiry through publicly available sources, particularly public forms that research participants use (p. 217). As indicated by the title of this dissertation, I am interested in the ways Latina youths talk back (i.e. take up and transform) discourses on being “Latina” and “citizenship.” Therefore, I included a general analysis and discussion of the role U.S. visas, residency, and legal citizenship in how Latina youths grapple with and understand the role of the state in their lives and the implications for belonging. Data Analysis To explore the discursive and material conditions that made possible Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations, I employed Foucauldian discourse analysis. I used discourse analysis to analyze the data presented in Chapter four. Discourse analysis, like feminist transnationalism, is difficult to define. One possible reason for this difficulty is that Foucault himself did not define discourse in a monolithic way throughout his work (Mills, 2003; Scheurich & McKenzie, 2005). Thus, there are not set rules or procedures for conducting a Foucauldian inspired discourse analysis (Scheurich & McKenzie, 2005). Nevertheless, I believe it is important to make transparent how my reviews of feminist transnationalism and literature on girls‟ identity formations and cultural citizenship translate into guidelines for analyzing my data.

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The remainder of this section introduces Foucauldian discourse analysis and some concepts that are associated with it. This section then presents six guidelines that I used to analyze my data. Discourse Analysis When Foucault (1977/1995; 1978; 1980) refers to discourse he is not referring simply to spoken or written language; rather, he is referring to utterances, rules, and divisions which govern a particular body of knowledge. In this sense, discourse can be used to refer to groups of statements that form and partition knowledge about, for example, education, sociology, psychology, biology, and anthropology. Discourse also refers to the practices through which objects and statements are formed. For example, when I interviewed my research participants, none of them suggested that there were rules written down on how to be “Latina,” and yet somehow all of them had an idea about what it meant as well as how to be “Latina.” The unspoken structures, rules, and practices on being “Latina” constitute a discourse. A Foucauldian discourse analysis would not investigate the ways my participants made meaning of being “Latina.” A Foucauldian discourse analysis would explore the statement and rules that structured the discourse on being “Latina.” Discourses, however, are not monolithic. Every discourse contains within it conflicting sets of statements and practices. Going back to my example, within the discourses on Latina, there are sets of statements concerned with the description of the “hot Latina” and others which describe the Marianismo (Virgin Mary). While the effects of these statements may differ, they both characterize Latinas as fundamentally different from other women and men (Chavez, 2008). In what is known as the linguist turn, Foucault‟s concept of discourse shifts a researcher‟s focus from human intentions and consciousness to the discourses through which objects of knowledge are formed. That is, Foucault is concerned with the role of language and its constitution of power relations and subjectivity. It is important to note that language and discourse are not synonymous and that discourse does not reflect reality; rather, “discourse should be seen the system which structures the way we perceive reality” (Mills, 2003, p. 55). From a Foucauldian point of view, discourses enable and constrain what can be said, who can speak, where a person can speak, and when they can speak (Foucault, 1978; 1980; Mills, 2003). The positions from which we speak, or subject positions, are constituted through multiple and competing discourses that are culturally and historically located. Our subjectivities are neither stable nor are they non- or pre-discursive. Discourses, therefore, have implications for our

59 identities and how we understand our lived experiences. For instance, with the Latino threat narrative as discourse, Latinas/os who live in the United States, whether documented or undocumented, occupy the position “illegal alien.” This positioning, in turn, locates Latinas/os as targets of deportation within the trajectory of immigration reform and/or as targets of reproduction “assistance” (i.e. control) amidst shifting demographics (Chavez, 2008). If discourses produce and legitimate subjectivities, then discourse analysis makes it possible to interrogate the “Latina” as an “illegal alien” or “threat” to the United States. Discourses are strongly implicated in exercises of power because, as the previous example demonstrates, they act as authorizing forces that make possible certain ways of seeing and being in the world. Thus, the goal of a Foucauldian discourse analysis is neither to solely describe the content of a discourse nor to merely explain its rules, statement, and practices. The goal of a Foucauldian discourse analysis is to make visible what can and cannot be said within particular discourses in order to open up new ways of thinking and acting. Foucault (1980) explains Each society has its regime of truth, its general politics of “truth;” that is, the types of discourses which it accepts and makes function as true; the mechanisms and instances which enable one to distinguish true and false statements, the means by which each is sanctioned; the techniques and procedures accorded value in the acquisition of truth; the status of those who are charged with saying what counts as true. (p. 131) In other words, discourses are “regimes of truth” and certain individuals, groups of people, and institutions are charged with the responsibility of producing “true” discourses. It should be noted that Foucault is not concerned with what is really “true” and “false.” He focuses instead on the rules that separate the true statements from the false statements, and the effects of power that are attached to the true statements. Foucault‟s understanding of discourse as a regime of truth allows me to ask different questions about the lived experiences of Latina youths in a way that reveals how knowledge about them has been produced through relations of power, and how certain discourses on “Latina” and “citizenship” have come be accepted as “true” and others as “false.” In addition to drawing upon Foucault‟s concepts of discourses, subject positions, and regimes of truth, I also draw upon his concept of normalization. Foucault (1977/1995) argues

60 that normalization is produced through discourses which circulate in institutions such as prisons, schools, and the social sciences. He writes that normalization is “the perpetual penality that traverses all points and supervises every instant in the disciplinary institutions compares, differentiates, hierarchizes, homogenizes, excludes. In short, it normalizes” (Foucault, 1997/1995, p. 183). Put another way, normalization is a 5-step process consisting of comparison, differentiation, hierarchization, homogenization, and exclusion. The norm is accepted as the “natural” standard while deviations from the norm are, in some way abnormal, deficient, and punishable. Foucault asserts that we conform to normalization when we police ourselves and others in relation to the norm. Thus, Foucauldian discourse analysis is attentive to how discourses are bound up in organizing, regulating, and administering social life. Finally, I would like to address some of the enabling elements of discourse. Foucauldian theorists in education point out that Foucault is often misinterpreted as suggesting that there is “no way out,” and that we are always only limited and determined by discourse (Infinito, 2003; Mayo, 2000; Weems, 2004). While Foucault certainly describes how our subjectivities are constrained by regulatory discourses, he also suggests they are enabled by it. Discourses are not once and for all subservient to power or raised up against it, any more than silences are. We must make allowance for that complex and unstable process whereby discourse can be both an instrument and an effect of power, but also a hindrance, a stumbling block, a point of resistance and a starting point for an opposing strategy. Discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but it also undermines it and exposes it, renders it fragile and makes it possible to thwart it. (Foucault, 1978, p. 100-101) Discourses not only constrain but they are also a means of resistance. As Foucault (1978) argues, “Where there is power, there is resistance” (p. 95). Thus, discourses produce both practices of oppression and practices of resistance. Foucauldian discourse analysis, then, is concerned about the relationship between discourse, subjectivity, and what people can do in the conditions within which their experiences are constructed. Guidelines for Data Analysis As I discussed in the section entitled “Methods of Empirical Research,” the data I identified to analyze included interviews, collages, and U.S visas and citizenship. I chose to include these data because of how they inform my research questions. In the remainder of this

61 section, I describe the guidelines I used to analyze my data. I borrowed from the guidelines offered by Willig (2008) on Foucauldian discourse analysis. I acknowledge that there is no uniform and formalized procedure for doing a discourse analysis. Yet, I am also aware that discourse analysis is not carried out in a “willy-nilly” fashion, subject to a researcher‟s whims and fancies. As a novice researcher, I found these guidelines provided me with a starting point on how to do a discourse analysis keeping mind in my particular research questions and theoretical framework. In the first stage of my analysis, I was concerned about the ways my objects of inquiry were constructed. Because my focus was how Latina youths talk back on being “Latina” and “American citizenship,” I identified the different ways in which “Latina” and “American citizenship” were constructed. I included both explicit and implicit references for all objects of inquiry. In the second stage of my analysis, I focused on the differences in the constructions of “Latina” and “American citizenship.” For instance, I looked for different ways that the girls talked about being “Latina” and “American citizenship” and attempted to locate these constructions in wider discourses. When talking about “citizenship,” many participants drew upon discourses of neoliberalism as they spoke about the processes of obtaining citizenship, or of being a citizen. Additionally, one participant drew upon discourses of assimilation when talking about who should and should not be eligible for legal U.S. citizenship. In the third stage of my analysis, I explored what participants gained by constructing “Latina” and “American citizenship” in a particular way. To return to my above example, it may be that the participant‟s use of an assimilation discourse to talk about citizenship was produced in response to a question about immigrants and may have served to emphasize that her presence in the United States was documented rather than undocumented. In the fourth stage of my analysis, I was interested in the subject positions that were made available for the girls. Discourses not only construct objects, they also construct the positions from which individuals speak (Foucault, 1980; Mills, 2003; Willig, 2008). For instance, discourses on “hot Latina” contain subject positions of uncontrollable Latina sexual behavior. Whether participants take up, transform, or resist this position, it has implications for their identities and social relations.

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In the fifth stage of the analysis, I investigated the relationship between discourse and practice. Discourse constructs particular versions of the world and positions subjects within them; thus, discourse constrains what can be said and done (Foucault, 1978; 1980; Mills, 2003; Willig, 2008). Constructions of Latinas as “hot” require the girls who resist being positioned within this discourse to act “respectably” and with consideration for the potential negative consequences of their actions. In the sixth and final stage of the analysis, I examined the relationship between discourse and subjectivity. That is, I analyzed the implications of taking various subject positions for the participants lived experiences. I was interested in the motivations, desires, and struggles that the participants experienced from within various subject positions. One question driving this stage of the data analysis was – what kinds of lived experiences may be made available by the various constructions of “Latina” and “citizen” and the subject positions within these constructions? Ethics and Reflexivity Two commonly used methodological approaches in post-positivist20 research, particularly in terms of addressing ethical dilemmas, are reciprocity and reflexivity. Conventional conceptions of reciprocity typically emphasize equity and fairness in the research process and attempt to promote identification between the researcher and participant (Weems, 2006). Reflexivity is often understood as “involving a an on-going self-awareness during the research process which aids in making visible the practice and construction of knowledge within research in order to produce more accurate analyses of our research” (Pillow, 2003, p. 178). Yet as feminist poststructural methodologists explain, reciprocity and reflexivity are not about neutrality; nor, do they enable a researcher to escape the consequences of her positions and unequal relations of power with research participants (Pillow, 2003; Weems, 2006). In this section, I discuss issues and practices of reciprocity and reflexivity in my study. I also address

20 My use of the term post-positivism is taken from Lather (2006), Sheurich (1996), and Weems (2006) who use it as a umbrella term to refer to interpretive, critical, and deconstructive forms of inquiry that reject the tenets of positivism (e.g. verification, prediction, generalizability, and objectivity). Post- positivist inquiry privileges interpretation, understanding, transformation, emancipation, critique, and deconstruction (Lather, 2006). However, it is important to note that other methodological scholars use post-positivism to indicate a modified positivism that is separate from interpretivism, critical theory, and the deconstructive movement (Denzin & Lincoln, 2008). While I recognize that post-positivism is taken up in numerous and conflicting ways, I situate this project as an example of, as well as under the umbrella of, post-positivism.

63 my own desires for equitable relations with research participants, as well as “accurate” and “valid” research findings. Reciprocity As a way to “give back” to participants, I offered to write letters of recommendation for high school awards, college, and/or other post-high school plans. I also offered to send each participant a copy of my dissertation and any published article in which their interviews and collage appear. And finally, I gave each of the participants a small gift certificate to a book store. During an interview, one participant expressed an interest in studying criminology at a South Florida university, but she did not know which criminology program would best meet her needs. I offered to set up a meeting between her and my partner, who is a criminologist that studied in South Florida. The participant, who appeared very excited to meet a “real” criminologist and Ph.D., readily agreed to the meeting. She and my partner met one afternoon when he was in town visiting. Additionally, after the completion of the interviews and collage, a few of the participants contacted me in Ohio via email, asking me to write additional letters of recommendation to various university-sponsored summer programs for high school students and leadership awards. I wrote all requested additional letters of recommendation. My impulse was to democratize the research process and empower the Latina youths by making spaces for their voices. Yet, my desire to “do justice” to my participants was complicated, in part, by the usefulness and meaningfulness of a dissertation in their lives. Instead of using the word “dissertation,” I frequently presented my work as a “book.” The use of “book” rather than “dissertation,” raised ethical dilemmas for me, particularly in terms of deception. Some of the girls who participated in my project, as well as some of the parents who consented, were very interested in issues surrounding citizenship and negative representations of Latina youths. I believe they may have connected the idea of participation to changes in U.S. immigration policy and education that would directly improve their own lives or the lives of Latina/o family and friends. Certainly, these changes cannot be delivered by a dissertation (or “book”) alone. Thus, my obligation and accountability as a researcher extend beyond this dissertation. Reflexivity In chapter 1, I discussed my position(s) as a researcher and the investments I have in working with Latina youths. Earlier in this chapter, I described the reflexive journal that I kept

64 throughout this project. Here, I specifically address my interactions with participants and my own desires for a legitimacy that would produce “accurate” and “valid” research findings. Lather (2001) argues that although reflexivity is impartial and incomplete, it is “neither paralysis nor endless self-probing, but about opening new sites for work, a reflexivity that is about relational engagement rather than hermetic self-absorption” (p. 247). Though I understand this section may be read as a “confessional tale” (Van Maanen, 1988) or a solipsistic account, my aim is to begin rethinking how ethical practices and relationships were developed in this project and how they might be developed in future qualitative research projects. A participant and her mother’s request for greater self-disclosure. One of the participants and her mother asked me to share personal information about my family and past experiences. After the participant and her mom told me information about themselves when we first met to discuss the project, perhaps they felt I remained somewhat unknown, an outsider, which I was. The mother asked numerous questions about me, my parents and their racial/ethnic backgrounds, my experiences growing up in an interracial/ethnic household, and my experiences living in the U.S. Midwest with a Latino partner and in-laws. The participant, after telling me a story about her “sort of” boyfriend during one of the interviews, looked at me and asked, “How old were you when you lost your virginity?” While I responded honestly to all questions that were asked, I was somewhat uncomfortable offering such personal disclosures. Behar (1993) writes, “We ask for revelations from others, but we reveal little or nothing about ourselves; we make others vulnerable, but we ourselves remain invulnerable” (p. 273). My attempts to remain invisible as the researcher while making others into the objects of my gaze were subverted by the participant and her mother, both of whom were also gazing at me. Moreover, the participant and her mom‟s requests for personal information help me begin to understand how they complicated normative understandings of power, particularly in a research context where racialized, classed, and age-related differences were generated through interviews (Gunaratnam, 2003). These experiences signaled to me how researchers, both those who are insiders and outsiders to the communities they are researching, need to have reflexive approaches to interviewing that take into consideration broader social relations and the power of participants to subvert and/or resist interview questions as well as an interviewer‟s intrusions into their personal lives. While a researcher‟s personal disclosure about her identity may not necessarily subvert or make unequal relations of power less problematic, research as an ethical practice means that researchers must

65 recognize and meaningfully respond to participants‟ terms for developing rapport and intersubjective relations (Behar, 1993; Gunaratnam, 2003; Subedi & Rhee, 2008). My own desires to gain legitimacy and trust with participants: Insider/outsider dilemmas. Feminist, postcolonial, and other qualitative researchers have called attention to the need for researchers to be sensitive to the differences between our subjects and ourselves, with an awareness of the possible power relations involved in doing research as both an insider and an outsider (Behar, 1993; Bettie, 2003; Coloma, 2008; Denzin & Lincoln, 2008; Dillard, 2000; Gunaratnam, 2003; Miranda, 2003; Subedi & Rhee, 2008; Subedi, 2006; Villenas, 2000; Zavella, 1993). As I stated in Chapter 1, I self-identified as a middle-class, heterosexual, White woman who was/is very occasionally a partial insider to Latina/o communities because of my second- generation status, as well as my family‟s history and connections with Ecuador. Despite this tenuous and partial insider status, I couldn‟t help but wonder if I should be studying Latina youths, a community of girls whose social locations are mostly different from my own. More specifically, I was (and still am) very concerned about gaining legitimacy and trust from my research participants, as well as my complicity in unequal power dynamics that permeate the research process. While interacting with each of the participants, I grappled with how open to be about the identities I embodied. With most of the participants, I did not disclose personal information unless specifically asked. I was aware that my hesitancy to participate in an even exchange of knowledge risked perpetuating exploitive research practices and reinforcing the researcher/researched binary. When I revealed personal information about the Ecuadorian aspects of my life, I wondered if I were viewed more seriously as an insider though I doubt this was the case most of the time. The girls who learned about my Ecuadorian background made comments such as, “Empanadas. Do you know what they are? You probably don‟t. Let me tell you.” One participant after learning about my background said, “Let me tell you about Latino families. Americans don‟t understand Latino families.” While I may have hidden (or attempted to hide) my emotions during the interviews, I cannot write that these comments, as mundane or nonchalant as they may be to the reader, did not produce feelings of pain, hurt, and, sometimes, anger. Although I was uncomfortable with personal disclosures, I simultaneously feared being considered a complete outsider and sometimes found myself hoping that participants and their parents would ask me about my personal connections to Latin America. I believe that my desires

66 to be affirmed and accepted as Latina, even if only partially, are very much connected to the erasures in my history, and to growing up in a home and regions in the United States where claims to Latina/o often times resulted in tense and/or hostile environments. My point in sharing these brief stories is not to suggest that an insider status would have been less problematic. Feminist and postcolonial researchers also highlight the dilemmas researchers face as insiders to the communities they research and warn against essentialist solidarity with research participants (Bettie, 2003; Coloma, 2008; Miranda, 2003; Villenas, 2000; Subedi, 2006; Subedi & Rhee, 2008; Zavella, 1993). Rather, my goal in offering these stories is to begin problematizing my own desires for legitimacy and the nature by which researchers can claim legitimacy in their fieldwork. Maintaining or trying to obtain an insider status when participants consider us outsiders can be questionable and lead to unethical research practices, practices that serve the researcher rather than the researcher and the participants. While I have come to believe that all academic research is to some extent self-serving because of how it operates to professionally advance the researcher, I do not believe this relieves the researcher of her ethical commitment to participants and their communities. Further, my desires for legitimacy and a (partially) shared Latina identity with my participants speak to the problematic nature by which researchers can claim that their findings are “accurate,” “valid,” and more credible. Identity categories such as gender, sexuality, race, language, class, and immigrant status are diverse and offer points of engagement through which researchers enter the field (Miranda, 2003; Villenas, 2000; Subedi, 2006; Subedi & Rhee, 2008; Zavella, 1993). Thus, when researchers unquestionably and uncritically affiliate with the communities they research, they might, despite the best of intentions, produce and make claims to knowledge in ways that marginalize or silence participants‟ ontologies and epistemologies (Behar, 1993; Bettie, 2003; Miranda, 2003; Subedi, 2006; Villenas, 2000). Although negotiating my insider/outsider dilemmas in the field was a messy and sometimes painful process, it is my hope that this messiness and pain help me to better understand the complexities of reflexivity while at the same time driving me to continually develop ethical relationships and practices in research. Language and power. The primary language used in this project is English. I am not a Spanish speaker although I understand a handful of Spanish words. As a matter of fact, and to be quite transparent with the reader, my criteria for recruiting English-dominant and/or Spanish/English bilingual speakers were in no way solely informed by this study‟s theoretical

67 framework. While 4 of 8 participants occasionally spoke a few words in Spanish, this project, including the consent forms and interviews, was conducted in English. I asked my partner, Anthony Peguero, who is English/Spanish bilingual, to translate the Spanish words in the interviews that I did not understand. Often times the words did not translate directly from Spanish to English; thus, the translations are interpretations. However, as Latina and postcolonial scholars have pointed out, language is neither something that just happens to be spoken nor something that has no impact on people‟s everyday lives (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; González, 2005; Lippi-Green, 1997; Willinsky, 1998). Anzaldúa (1987/2007) writes, “I am my language. Until I can take pride in my language, I cannot take pride in myself” (p. 81). In other words, language and the power to name one‟s identity are intimately related. When I wrote the application to conduct this project, I struggled with my complicity in reinforcing standard U.S. English as the valid and scientific medium of conversation and knowledge production (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Lippi-Green, 1997; Willinksy, 1998). Furthermore, I struggled with the participants‟ identities I would be making invisible through the forced use of English. This struggle resurfaced when during an interview, one of the participants commented that she although she is Spanish/English bilingual, she feels “limited” when she can speak with someone only in English. Although I recognize that Latinas/os are complex, heterogeneous people who do not necessarily speak Spanish, I also acknowledge that language arranges and naturalizes power relations in societies (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Lippi- Green, 1997; Willinksy, 1998). Consequently, it would be unethical of me to discount the relationship between language and power that permeated every aspect of this research project. Being a monolingual English-speaker rather than English/Spanish bilingual speaker shaped my collaboration with the participants in particular ways. For instance, my inability to shift the conversation from English to Spanish once the above mentioned participant commented that she feels “limited” by English only, constrained me from creating a more complex understanding of how participants exercise power. Furthermore, because I am a monolingual English speaker, I was unable to respond to participants‟ negotiation of differences through their use of Spanish and English. In other words, if participants dropped cues that the conversation should switch from English to Spanish, I lacked competence in Spanish to facilitate such a shift. I am not trying to suggest that Spanish/English bilingual researchers would not face any challenges in working with my research participants or that they would somehow have an easier

68 time developing collaborative and ethical relationships. Instead, what I am attempting to point out are the particular challenges that I faced in conducting this research. From the moment I began conceptualizing this project, my monolingual English-speaking status has continually pushed me to be reflexive about my identity and the role(s) that language plays in power and developing ethical and collaborative relationships with research participants. In sum, the above section entitled “Methods of Empirical Research” described the processes for conducting this study. It began by situating the reader in the research sites and then moved into an explanation of data collection and analysis. I concluded this section by discussing how my positionalities shaped and informed the research process. Validity/Trustworthiness There is no single, agreed upon definition of validity in social science research (Denzin & Lincoln, 2008; Lather, 1986; 2001; Lincoln & Guba, 1989; Scheurich, 1996). Lincoln and Guba (1989) reconceptualize validity as trustworthiness in attempts to counter positivist claims that qualitative research is illegitimate, and to argue for its acceptance in conventional social science research communities. Broadly speaking, trustworthiness addresses how a researcher convinces herself and her audience that her research findings are credible, dependable, and worthy of consideration. Lincoln and Guba (1989) offer various techniques specific to meeting the trustworthiness criteria: prolonged engagement; persistent observation; triangulation; peer review and debriefing; negative case analysis; clarification of researcher‟s bias; keeping reflexive journals; member-checking; rich and thick description; and, external audit (p. 301-328). The trustworthiness of my study can be ascertained in five ways: (1) the reflexive journal that I wrote; (2) the meticulous data collection and analyses in which I engaged; (3) the clarification of my position(s) and investments in this project; (4) the use of other empirical studies to locate and support my findings; and, (5) the triangulation of data through multiple methods, data sources, and theoretical lenses (Lather, 1986). However, it is important to point out that while successfully meeting these criteria may persuade the reader that I am an “expert” and that my findings are legitimate and credible; these criteria have been criticized for numerous reasons. Scheurich (1996) argues that this conceptualization of trustworthiness mobilizes the very same positivist assumptions it seeks to counter; thus, trustworthiness, like validity, functions as a “border patrol” that polices the boundaries between admissible and inadmissible research. In other words, trustworthiness

69 establishes a hierarchy of desirable research, and functions as a normative criterion that protects and keeps safe the qualitative research community from “degenerate” research. Additionally, Lincoln and Guba‟s trustworthiness criteria have little meaning in frameworks that reject realist ontologies (Lather, 2001; Scheurich, 1996). Denzin and Lincoln (2008), as mentioned previously in this chapter, assert that qualitative research is done within the triple crises of representation, legitimacy, and authority. Therefore, while meeting the trustworthiness criteria may allow me to graduate and advance in my career, the efficacy of my research is grounded in its openness to multiple interpretations rather than just one “correct” interpretation (Denzin & Lincoln, 2008; Lather, 2001). Rather than abandon the concept of validity, Lather (2001) suggests a reevaluation of it in ways that dislodge validity from its traditional understandings and uses in qualitative research. She argues there “is the need to rethink the terms in which we address the issue in such a way that validity becomes a site of an attempt to transvalue the end of scientificity” (Lather, 2001, p. 242). In place of standardized regulatory practices of validity, such as those offered by trustworthiness criteria, Lather calls for “a profusion of situated validities, immanent validities within the context of a particular inquiry” (2001, p. 245.) In a move beyond the search for uniform criteria of validity, Lather offers what she calls “constitutive validity” and “transgressive validity.” Constitutive practices of validity are attentive to how people connect with each other in assessing the legitimacy of knowledge claims and transgressive validity practices theorize, historicize, situate, and interrogate inquiry as a socio-cultural practice (Lather, 2001, p. 246-247). Lather acknowledges the paradox of situated validities is that they, like uniform criteria, return validity to a policing function. Yet, she maintains that constitutive and transgressive validities frame validity as relational practices that transgress uniform, normative criteria of “quality” research. Put another way, researchers should not approach validity in terms of how it legitimates knowledge claims and methods used; rather, researchers should approach validity in terms of the social uses and implications the knowledge they produce have. The knowledge that is constructed by this dissertation is an ethical issue that links research to social action. In some ways, the validity of my project is yet to be determined as the implications of its social uses, as of present, remain unknown. Despite what remains unknown about the validity of this research, it is not enough for me to provide a theoretical and descriptive account without also providing some practical implications that might derive from this work. In

70 the concluding chapter, I attempt to move from the interpretive to the practical by asking and responding to the following question: What can teachers, administrators, and educational researchers take from this study that can have a socially just impact on public school curriculum, pedagogy, and policies as they relate to Latina/o students? Conclusion This chapter provided a methodological map which illustrated the processes I used to conduct this research. My chosen research methodology, feminist transnationalism, enabled me to explore the discursive and material conditions of possibility for Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations. More specifically, a feminist transnational framework allowed me to focus my attention on the social, cultural, legal, and economic conditions that shape and are shaped by Latina youths‟ lived experiences. I outlined the methods of empirical research by including descriptions of the sites, negotiating access, participant selection, and methods of data collection and analysis. My methods of data collection included questionnaires, interviews, collages, as well as a general discussion of U.S. visas, residency, and citizenship. Foucauldian discourse analysis is the strategy I used for data analysis. I drew upon feminist and postcolonial conceptualizations of ethics and reflexivity to be attentive to how researcher/researched social locations and relations of power operate in the development of ethical research relationships and practices. In the final section of this chapter, I demonstrated how the validity of my study meets normative criteria but will also move towards social action and practical implications. In the following chapter, I present the data analysis for this dissertation. More specifically, Chapter 4 addresses the ethnographic themes that emerged from this study: (i) “Being-Made into „American Citizens:‟ Neoliberalism and the American Dream;” (ii) “Being- Made into „Latinas:‟ Stereotypes and Essentializing Identity;” (iii) “Talking Back on „American Citizenship:‟ Flexible Citizenship and Dissenting Citizenship;” and, (iv) “Talking Back on Being „Latina:‟ Education, Cultural Pride, and Ambivalence in Identity.” Chapter 5 explores the broader economic and social conditions that shaped my participants and their families‟ migrations to South Florida. Thus, the purpose of chapters four and five is to help the reader to contextualize on both micro and macro levels how Latina youths negotiate their sense of identity and belonging. In order to privilege an “insider perspective” (e.g. and emic understanding in an ethnographic sense), I intentionally present my analysis of Latina youths‟ lived experience before exploring the broader socio-economic factors related to their migrations.

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CHAPTER 4

TALKING BACK ON “CITIZENSHIP” AND BEING “LATINA:” EMERGENT THEMES Introduction This chapter investigates the discursive and material conditions of possibility for Latina youths‟ identity and citizenship formations by analyzing ethnographic themes. It focuses on how middle-class21 Latina youths negotiate their identities and sense of belonging in a South Florida context. How the girls narrate certain practices, such as the Who I Am collages, highlights how they experience their own “being-made” and “self-making” in relation to United States and transnational processes. I suggest that the girls were not only cognizant of dominant discourses on American citizenship and young Latina women, but that they were also, and not in unproblematic ways, co-discursive participants in the construction of images of American citizenship and Latinas. More specifically, the girls contest dominant discourses and images on “American citizenship” and “Latina” and produce alternative discourses and images about them. However, in contesting dominant discourses and images, some of the girls comply with and reproduce stereotypes and hierarchies. I have organized this chapter into six sections. First, I introduce each of the 8 research participants to give the reader a sense of them as distinctive individuals who, while sharing some social and cultural characteristics, articulate their positionalities in unique ways. Second and third, I present the two themes that emerged on how the girls were made into “American citizens” and “Latinas.” The first theme is entitled “Being-made into „American Citizens:‟ Neoliberalism and the American Dream” and the second theme is entitled “Being-made into „Latinas:‟ Stereotypes and Essentializing Identity.” Fourth and fifth, I present the two themes that emerged on how the girls engaged in self-making practices of “American citizen” and “Latina.” The third theme is entitled “Talking Back on „American Citizenship:‟ Flexible Citizenship and Dissenting Citizenship” and the fourth theme is entitled “Talking Back on Being

21 As indicated in Chapter 1 and my IRB application (see Appendix A), I recruited middle-class Latina youths because there is a gap in the research literature on this particular population. While it is undeniable that a disproportionate share of Latina/o youths live under the poverty level, there is also a significant portion of the Latina/o population, whether immigrant or not, that is middle- upper-middle class (Valdivia, 2008). In terms of research with middle-class Latina youths and Latina youths who live in Florida, there is almost a total gap (Denner & Guzmán, 2006).

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„Latina:‟ Contesting and Complying with Gendered, Racialized, and Sexualized Imageries and Essential Identity.” These four emergent themes are drawn from my analysis of the interview data as well as the girls‟ Who I Am collages.22 I also weave throughout my analyses general discussions about U.S. visas, residency, and legal citizenship in how the girls expressed their everyday understandings of national belonging and exclusion. Because the interviews and collages were designed to engage the girls in a dialogue between themselves and transnational processes, the focus in all three of these sections is on the images and discourses that the girls deployed to (re)define “American citizenship” and “Latina.” Thus, these sections convey each Latina youth‟s sense of her identity, citizenship, and agency. In the sixth section, I conclude this chapter with a summary of the analyses presented. Portraits of participants This section introduces the project‟s 8 participants: Anastasia Diana; Emma; Scarlett; Gabriela; Laura; Viviana; Lucia; and, Carolina. These names are pseudonyms self-selected by the participants.23 I borrow from Yon (2000) in my use of the term “portrait,” which is a brief description that captures a fleeting moment in life that, like portraits, can be contested by the subjects they represent (p. 49). In order to introduce the girls in this section, I draw upon their PPQ‟s and first interview, which was designed as a “get to know you” conversation. Anastasia Diana Anastasia Diana was 17 years old and a senior at Palmetto City High School (PCHS). She was born in Yuba City, California and had lived in Florida for 4.5 years. Anastasia Diana‟s mother and father were also from California, and her grandparents were from Mexico, El

22 Due to the abundance of data collected in this study, three of the participants‟ Who I Am collages will be analyzed in the future. The reader can, however, find their collages in the Appendix. Please see Appendix L for Emma‟s collage, Appendix M for Viviana‟s collage, and Appendix N for Gabriela‟s collage. 23 In introducing the girls and writing about their collages and interviews, I struggled not to set up hierarchy between my introductions and interpretations and how the girls‟ would represent themselves. According to Lutrell (2003), feminist researchers must be mindful of the tension between respecting adolescent girls‟ interpretations of their lives and not giving up responsibility in terms of the content and interpretive work of our research. Lutrell explains that while data may stand on its own, it doesn‟t necessarily speak for itself. I grappled with the idea that it would be possible for me to offer introductions and interpretations “from everywhere and nowhere” rather than introductions and interpretations that were “partial and situated” (Haraway, 1988). Additionally, I felt I faced a danger as an outsider (and occasionally partial insider) researcher that my interpretations would be offered through colonizing, essentialist categories and discourses that would reduce the complexity and variability amongst the girls (Bettie, 2003; Lutrell, 2003). Keeping these concerns in mind, and recognizing that there isn‟t an obvious transparency to the girls‟ lives, I stayed as close as possible to the descriptions used by the girls in their personal profile questionnaires (PPQ – see Appendix G) and to the conversational speech they used in the interviews. Yet, I acknowledge that my interpretations are incomplete, and that they are open to criticism.

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Salvador, and Nicaragua. Thus, she is a U.S. born citizen and third-generation.24 Anastasia Diana‟s racial/ethnic background included Salvadorian, Mexican, Nicaraguan, Aztec, and Sequoian, but she had never visited El Salvador, Mexico, or Nicaragua. She lived with her mother, step-father, and younger sister and brother. Anastasia Diana‟s biological father and older brother lived in California. While she speaks some Spanish mostly at home and understands Spanish when it is spoken to her, Anastasia Diana is English-speaking dominant. She identified as Hispanic American. Anastasia Diana saw herself as “different” from other Latinas. She told me that she “is not the right kind of Hispanic” for South Florida because she was neither of Cuban or South American descent nor does she speak “correct” and “proper” Spanish. Anastasia Diana later stated, that in California “there isn‟t such a range of Hispanics. If you‟re Hispanic, you‟re brown skinned and you have brown eyes, brown hair, or occasionally blue eyes and brown hair.” When asked to tell me about her friends, she replied, “A lot of my friends here are actually, like, they‟re Haitian and Jamaican, Black.” Anastasia Diana planned on enrolling in the honors program at a local South Florida college. When she enrolls in college, Anastasia Diana will be a first generation college student. On her PPQ, Anastasia Diana wrote that her mother completed the 8th grade and her step-father had earned an associate‟s degree. In addition to holding various leadership positions at school, including student management positions for varsity football and squad captain for JROTC (Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps), Anastasia Diana was a member of the school‟s Black Student Union club. She also enjoyed writing songs and singing in the choir at her church. Emma Emma, who was somewhat reserved in speaking, was a 16 year old junior at PCHS. She was born in Glendale, California and had lived in Florida for 7 years. Both Emma‟s mother and father were born in Colombia. Emma is a U.S. born citizen and second-generation.25 Emma identified as Colombian, Latina, and Hispanic American. She lived with her parents and 15 year

24 As I explained in Chapter 1, third-generation refers to U.S. born individuals whose parents are also U.S. born (Jensen, 2001; Kalogrides, 2009; Portes & Rumbaut, 2001). That is, within the context of this study, third- generation refers to Latina youths who were born in the United States with parents who were also born in the United States. 25 As I explained in Chapter 1, second-generation refers to U.S. born individuals with at least one parent who was foreign-born (Jensen, 2001; Kalogrides, 2009; Portes & Rumbaut, 2001). That is, within the context of this study, second-generation refers to Latina youths who were born in the United States with at least one parent who was born in Latin America. I also explained in Chapter 1 that by Latin America, I am referring to countries in South and Central American, as well as Mexico, Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic.

74 old brother. Emma was Spanish/English bilingual and she described her style of dress as “kind of preppy.” When I asked her if being Latina felt different in South Florida than in California, Emma responded, “Oh, well, yeah. Because here, when I got here, I found out there‟s mostly Colombians. In California, there really aren‟t that many Colombians. Mostly, it‟s Mexicans. So, it was kinda different for me because it was mostly Colombians.” Emma also explained that because she is very close with her family, she would like to live at home while in college; thus, Emma planned to apply to universities in the South Florida area. Both of Emma‟s parents were U.S. college graduates. Emma hoped to study criminology and eventually work for the DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency). She was an accomplished pianist who was working toward her piano teaching certification. Emma also enjoyed participating in the law club and volunteering at a local hospital. Scarlett Scarlett was a junior at PCHS and 16 years old. She was born in Maracaibo, Venezuela and had lived in Florida for 9 years. Both Scarlett‟s mother and father were also born in Venezuela. Scarlett is a naturalized U.S. citizen and first-generation.26 Scarlett identified as both Venezuelan and Hispanic. She lived with her mother, father, and younger sister and brother. Scarlett was Spanish/English bilingual although she was enrolled in an ESOL (English Speakers of Other Languages) program through her sophomore year in high school. When I asked Scarlett to describe herself, she stated, “Very happy person, outgoing, all over the place. I get very hyper. So, I‟m all over the place. Literally.” (It was, in fact, extremely difficult to schedule interviews with Scarlett. I also found our conversations, far more so than with the other participants, frequently migrated to topics that appeared unrelated to the questions I asked. ) Scarlett intended to apply to various colleges in Florida and study forensic psychology. Her father was a U.S. college graduate while her mother completed high school in Venezuela. Scarlett was an avid percussionist who was highly involved in PCHS‟s band and band competitions. She often referred to herself and her friends in band, whom she talked about quite frequently and described as American, as “weird and outgoing.” Scarlett was a member of the following after-school

26 In Chapter 1, I explain that first-generation are individuals who were not born in the United States (Jensen, 2001; Kaligrodes, 2009; Portes & Rumbaut, 2001). For this study, first-generation are Latina youths who were born in Latin American with parents who were also born in Latin America. I also explained in Chapter 1 that by Latin America, I am referring to countries in South and Central American, as well as Mexico, Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic.

75 clubs: GSA (Gay Straight Alliance); Best Buddies; HELP (Helping Every Little Person); and, Harry Potter. Gabriela Gabriela was a 17 year old PCHS junior. She was born in Caracas, Venezuela and had lived in Florida for 8 years. Gabriela‟s mother and father were also born in Venezuela. Gabriela became a naturalized U.S. citizen one week prior to our first conversation. She is first- generation. Gabriela identified as Venezuelan, Jewish, Hispanic, and American although she appeared very ambivalent about self-identifying as “American.” Gabriela had visited Venezuela in spring 2010 for the first time in 5 years. She lived with her parents and younger brother. Her older sister was an undergraduate student at the University of Florida. Gabriela was Spanish/English bilingual though she told me that she preferred speaking in Spanish. Before moving to Palmetto City and attending public school, Gabriela lived in a nearby South Florida city for two years where she briefly attended a Jewish private school. When I asked her about her experiences being Jewish and Venezuelan in South Florida, Gabriela replied, “Judaism here is completely different from Judaism in Venezuela.” Later in the interview when I asked about her friends, Gabriela told me that while her close Latina friends in at PCHS were “really understanding” of and “fine” with her Judaism, she was frequently asked by Americans, “Wait. You‟re Jewish and Venezuelan? How does that work?” Gabriela was enrolled in all AP classes. While their degrees were not recognized in the United States, both of her parents were college educated in Venezuela. Gabriela hoped to go to the University of Florida on a scholarship and study pre-veterinarian medicine and to become a veterinarian one day. Gabriela was a member of the school‟s National Honor Society and PRIDE (Promoting Relationships in Diversity through Education) club. Her hobbies included playing tennis and singing. Gabriela was also very involved as a youth leader and counselor at a Latina/o Jewish community center located in Dade County, Florida.27 Laura Laura was a junior and 17 years old. She was born in Bogotá, Colombia and had lived in Florida for 8 years. Laura‟s mother and father were also born in Colombia. Laura was a U.S. resident and first-generation. Laura identified as Colombian and Hispanic. She lived with her mother and father. Her older brother was an undergraduate student at the University of Florida.

27 I have omitted the name of the Jewish community center in order to maintain confidentiality.

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Laura was Spanish/English bilingual. Laura described herself as “determined and like overachieving…always going for the next thing.” While she stressed that her family was “good,” “supportive,” and “helped each other out,” Laura also explained they were “really into independence,” “kind of distant,” and didn‟t “really show emotions much.” She hoped to study business at the University of Florida. Laura‟s mother, who studied in Chicago for 2 semesters, had an undergraduate degree in civil engineering and her father, who attended a high school in Alabama for 1 year, had an MBA. Laura held leadership positions at the school and hoped to hold a leadership position at the state level. More specifically, she was president of the school‟s PRIDE club and running for state president of an international marketing club.28 On her PPQ, Laura wrote that PRIDE is “a club that focuses on promoting diversity within the community as well as hosting numerous fund raising events for non-profit organizations and scholarships.” With the exception of one class, Laura, who was also a member of the National Honor Society, was taking all AP courses. She and the next participant, Viviana, had been very close friends since the fifth grade in 2005. They chose to complete all interviews together. Viviana Viviana was 16 years old and a junior at PCHS. She was born in Caracas, Venezuela and had lived in Florida for 9 years. Viviana‟s mother and father were also born in Caracas, Venezuela. Viviana was in the process of U.S. residency and was first-generation. Viviana identified as Venezuelan and Hispanic. She lived with her parents and younger sister. Viviana was Spanish/English bilingual. The first thing Viviana told me was that she is “independent in a way.” She explained that since the third grade, she had to translate immigration documents and letters from English to Spanish for her parents. When I asked her how translating for her parents made her feel, Viviana replied, “Well, I felt really stressed out. I would cry a lot.” Viviana also explained, “I had to be really mature at a young age. It taught me, you know, to think for myself, kind of like independent about things, I guess.” If accepted, Viviana wanted to attend even though she was concerned about who would then translate for her parents, with whom she described as being “really, really close” as well as having a “really open relationship.” Viviana‟s mother had a bachelor‟s degree in accounting from a Venezuelan university and her father had a high school diploma that he earned through night school. Viviana was enrolled in both honors and AP classes. Viviana was a member of the Spanish Honor Society and the

28 I have refrained from providing the name of the club in order to maintain confidentiality.

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Spanish club. She was also the Community Director of PRIDE, which means that she organized some of the fund raising activities, such as school fashion shows, and chose a community organization to donate the funds. Viviana also liked art and played tennis. Lucia Lucia was a 17 year old PCHS junior. She was born in Maracaibo, Venezuela and had lived in Florida for 10 years. Lucia‟s mother and father were also born in Venezuela. Lucia was in the process of U.S. residency and first-generation. Lucia identified as Venezuelan, Latina, and Hispanic. She lived with her parents and her two younger sisters. Lucia‟s older brother was an undergraduate student at Florida State University. Lucia was Spanish/English bilingual. When asked to describe her friends, Lucia explained that she and her parents had many friends who had moved from Venezuela. She said, “And I don‟t know why, but a lot of my parent‟s friends, they‟re from Venezuela, and they have kids our exact same age. So, we all meet together and they‟ve known each other since they were kids. It‟s like a repeating cycle. Those are probably the closest people to me ever, those kids.” While Lucia had gone on campus visits to schools such as Harvard, and applied to a summer program at New York University, she was undecided where she would like to attend college. She was enrolled in all AP classes. Both of her parents graduated from university in Venezuela. Lucia enjoyed watching movies and her favorite movie was Dead Poets Society (1989), a film she was introduced to in her favorite class, AP English. Lucia was a member of the National Honor Society and the Spanish Honor Society. She was also the education director in PRIDE, which means that she organized PCHS‟s yearly college fair. And finally, Lucia enjoyed singing, especially Celine Dion songs. Carolina Carolina was a junior and 17 years old. She was born in Cali, Colombia and had lived in Florida for 10 years. Carolina‟s parents were also born in Colombia. Carolina, who was an only child, was a U.S. resident and first-generation. She spoke Spanish, English, and French. While Carolina identified as Hispanic and, at one point, said she was an “American citizen,” she mostly identified as Colombian. I asked Carolina to describe herself and she stated, “Let‟s see. The first thing that I would say, I would say that I‟m Colombian. That always comes to mind.” Like Lucia and Gabriela, Carolina was taking all AP classes. Her goal was to attend Harvard University, study business, and become a CEO who was leader in business and charitable donations. Carolina‟s mother earned an associate‟s degree in Colombia and her father earned a bachelor‟s

78 degree. On her PPQ, Carolina wrote “my life has been academics and school clubs.” Additionally, she wrote that she is a “humble” and “common person” who “does the impossible every day to fit in charity or volunteer work and family time.” Carolina is a member of the school‟s French Honor Society, Psychology Honor Society, and National Honor Society. After school, Carolina liked to read, play soccer, and participate in religious youth groups. Portraits Discussed Although these portraits are brief, my intention was to offer the reader a glimpse into the diverse backgrounds of my participants. Of the eight participants, two were U.S. born and six were immigrants. Of the two U.S. born participants, both of whom were born in California, one was third-generation of mixed heritage (Mexican, Nicaraguan, Salvadorian, Sequoian, and Aztec) and one was the second-generation daughter of Colombian immigrants. Of the six who were immigrants, two (both Venezuelan) were naturalized U.S. citizens; two (both Colombian) were U.S. residents; and, two (both Venezuelan) were in the process of U.S. residency. One of the eight participants was Jewish. As I hope to demonstrate in the following sections, the girls recognized how their social relations and lived experiences were shaped, and sometimes in different ways, by dominant discourses and images on “citizenship” and “Latina.” Being-Made into “American Citizens:” Neoliberalism and the American Dream In this section, I present the first theme of this study. More specifically, I present my data analysis and findings on how the girls were made into “American citizens.” I describe neoliberal citizenship as the dominant discourse the girls drew upon in order to gain an understanding of their pursuits of national belonging and the “American Dream.” Neoliberalism was not just the discourse through which Latina youths could circumvent being inscribed as “unworthy” of legal U.S. citizenship, or not fitting the national character, it also provided a lesson in the racial, cultural, and economic structuring of American citizenship. Neoliberalism and the American Dream Neoliberalism is, broadly speaking, a set of economic policies that endorses aggressive individualism based on market competition and opposes state (or public) intervention and state run welfare programs (Haque, 2008; Hindess, 2002). Neoliberalism also encourages free trade and foreign investment, particularly Western foreign investment in “developing” countries such as those in Asia, Africa, and Latin America (Haque, 2008; Hindess, 2002). It stems from

79 classical liberalism, which is both a political and economic theory. As a political theory, classical liberalism is typically presented as a “normative political doctrine or ideology organized around a commitment to individual liberty and, in particular, to protecting that liberty against the state” (Hindess, 2002, p. 133). As an economic theory, classical liberalism usually refers to the abolition of government intervention in economic affairs (Hindess, 2002). What makes liberalism “neo,” or new, is the capitalist crisis that, since the 1980s, has inspired Western democracies and corporate elites to form alliances which represent reversals of state (or publicly) run programs in favor of economic self-reliance (Haque, 2008; Hindess, 2002). However, it is important to note that neoliberalism, as a market-based logic, is a form of self-discipline that is diffused throughout a nation-state‟s policies such as those pertaining to citizenship. Thus, while citizenship might conventionally be understood as a category of political membership, neoliberal citizenship points to how notions of political membership are increasingly solely derived from economic activities (K. Knight-Abowitz, personal communication, July 17, 2011). Furthermore, although political theorists help us to see how neoliberal citizenship mixes the political and the economic spheres (Haque, 2008; Hindess, 2002), cultural studies theorists such as Ong (1996; 1999; 2006) help us to see how neoliberal citizenship also involves culture. That is, neoliberal citizenship mixes the political, economic, and cultural. Neoliberalism and the American Dream were crucial for illuminating how the Latina youths – citizens, residents, and visa holders alike – in my study perceived modes of belonging to the United States. According to Ong (1996), neoliberalism celebrates freedom, progress, and individualism. Additionally, neoliberalism, which has pervaded all aspects of social life, has become synonymous with being American and the American Dream (Ong, 1996). Within neoliberalism, citizens are envisioned as productive, self-reliant individuals who can pull themselves up their bootstraps by making no economic demands upon the state, particularly in capitalist societies. As Berger (2009) explains, “the norms of good citizenship have stressed individual autonomy, responsibility, and economic self-sufficiency: the neoliberalized self, in other words.” This neoliberal logic shapes citizenship discourses and establishes boundaries on “worthy citizens” and “unworthy citizens” (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Berger, 2009; Ong, 1996). Because self-discipline, productivity, property ownership, and consumer power are associated with American citizenship and the American Dream, it appears these attributes can be important

80 criteria for racialized and gendered minorities and non-White immigrants‟ sense of belonging in the United States (Anzaldúa 1987/2007; Berger, 2009; Hong, 2006; Lowe, 1996; Ong, 1996; Villenas & Moreno, 2001). Latina youths who are and/or who seek to be legal citizens of the United States must think of their subjectivity within these parameters. That is, Latina youths who seek belonging in the American national community must be willing to craft themselves within the boundaries of acceptable representations of citizenship. When I asked the Latina youths who participated in my study to explain what “citizenship,” being an “American,” and the “American Dream” meant to them, I was struck by the number of participants who drew upon neoliberalism as the standard of good citizenship and national belonging. I start with Lucia who was in the process of U.S. residency at the time of this interview: Jennifer: What do you think when I say “citizenship?” Lucia: When you say “citizenship,” I think of a duty, sort of, that the American has for its country. It‟s sort of a relationship that it‟s meant to have. We‟re getting into politics in English [class]. Jennifer: Okay. Lucia: So, we‟ve actually been talking a lot about the relationship the individual has with its country and things like that. I think citizenship should represent sort of almost the requirements the individual has to its nation, I guess. Because things just sort of like voting, you know. You can‟t just say, “Oh, I live in the United States.” You have to benefit your country in some way. I mean, I wasn‟t born here, but I‟ll do my best to sort of benefit this country. In this excerpt, a public high school English classroom is the site where Lucia encounters notions of neoliberal citizenship. While she does not speak at length about the lesson during which she learned about citizenship, Lucia identifies rights of participation such as voting that are conferred through legal citizenship (Knight-Abowitz & Harnish, 2006). Yet, as Lucia herself suggests, components, like voting, that were more traditionally associated with citizenship are being replaced by ideas of individual productivity and merit. Although she states that citizenship is a “relationship,” thereby suggesting some sort of responsibility that a country may have to its citizens, it appears that Lucia understands her identification with the United States solely through

81 various ways that she might “benefit” the country. In other words, American citizenship for Lucia is how her potential as an individual might be employed and used by “this country” (i.e. United States). The discourse on neoliberal citizenship that was provided by Lucia‟s English class also appeared in her narration of her Who I Am collage (see Figure 1).29 Lucia described her collage in this way: I kind of shaped it like a balloon. The balloon, the fact of the balloon flying, is very hopeful and meaningful of life. Just in general, I love the idea. Um, it kind of means that, and this is supposedly like the feed (points to blue ribbon hanging from the bottom), I guess me, I have to fly…and so here, I have friends, family, future, legacy, other, and faith. And this is one of my favorite movies (points to quote at top of collage) that I‟ve seen. It‟s Dead Poets Society. And it‟s (reads quote) “O me! O life? That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse. What will your verse be?” So.

29 As I explained in Chapter 3, my focus on the collage was on the insights that could be learned from how the girls narrate their sense of citizenship, belonging, and identity.

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Figure 1, Lucia‟s Who I Am Collage

In this excerpt about her collage, Lucia portrays herself only in the future even though the prompt (see Appendix K) for the collage asks participants to think about their past, present, and future. Her narration may have been offered in light of discourses and images that cast adolescent Latinas as “unworthy immigrants,” high-school drop-outs, or gang members, who

83 lack aspiration for the future and will be unable to be economically self-sufficient (Berger, 2009; Dietrich, 1999; Miranda, 2003). As I will later discuss, Lucia explained that she thought non- Latinas/os perceived Latina youths as a little “slutty” and “just barely dumb.” In the direct question of “who am I?,” Lucia is on her own according to discourses of neoliberalism. It is up to her, and her alone, to go as far and as fast as she can in whatever direction she chooses. By envisioning herself as a balloon that has to fly, Lucia articulates aspirations that are marked by particular beliefs in the freedom and the opportunity to choose one‟s own destiny. Furthermore, Lucia‟s inclusion of the question “What will be your verse?” seems to suggest that she is attached, to some extent, to personal success in the future. When I asked her what her verse would be, Lucia responded, “I‟m small, but I think I have a lot of power to light up life around me. And one day, I will.” While she does not describe a particular version of success that she imagines in the future, two striking characteristics about this comment are Lucia‟s confidence in her future success and her references to herself as its source. It seems reasonable to deduce that discourses on neoliberal citizenship demand that Lucia makes an enterprise of her future and holds strongly agentic beliefs in realizing this future. Lucia‟s narration of her Who I Am collage suggests that she has adopted a specific set of neoliberal citizenship practices that are oriented towards the self as architect and/or destructor of success and failure. Explicit references to gender, race, and class in relation to citizenship are missing from both Lucia‟s response to my question about citizenship and from her narration of her Who I Am collage. These absences are perhaps not surprising given that neoliberalism, theoretically at least, is universal, meaning that it is gender, race, and class neutral (Lowe, 1996, Ong, 1996). It is also perhaps unsurprising given that public schools, whose curriculum tends to be Euro-centric, are primary sites for teaching racialized and immigrant youths lessons on American citizenship (Apple & Franklin, 2004; Bettie, 2003; Olsen, 1997; Valenzuela, 1999). As I mentioned previously, it is in her English class that Lucia discussed neoliberal citizenship with her peers and teacher. However, as evidenced in the following conversations, issues of gender, race, and class were addressed by other participants. For example, Anastasia Diana, who is third-generation and of mixed heritage, spoke about the raced and classed implications of being American. Jennifer: What do you think being an American means?

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Anastasia Diana: Umm…how you live. Jennifer: So…? Anastasia Diana: I mean, I don‟t believe this of all people. But, I know a lot of people, if you are born in America, being an American means how much money you have and how can spend and stuff like that. Jennifer: Where do you think people learn to think that‟s what being an American means? Anastasia Diana: Where everyone learns, you know. Their parents, their teachers, their siblings, everyone. Like, you don‟t have just one source. Jennifer: Is there a particular image that comes to mind when I say “American?” Anastasia Diana: Yeah! (laughs) I see like their living environment for American people, which is like the perfect two story house and a mom and dad are friggin‟ doctors and lawyers because that‟s what American people think, you know, that they are the best race to be! And I‟m not going to argue with it because I would never feel ashamed to say that I‟m American, you know. Lucia highlights rights (e.g. voting) and individual merit and productivity, or what she calls “benefit,” in relation to citizenship and locates herself within this framework. However, Anastasia Diana‟s ideas about belonging and being American are shaped in relation to consumption and buying power. Anastasia Diana mentions neither rights nor how she might individually benefit the United States. Additionally, Anastasia Diana recognizes that lessons on what it means to be “American” do not emanate from just one source; rather, it is different groups throughout society – “parents, teachers, siblings, everyone” – that make individuals into certain kinds of American subjects who are both raced and classed. Her comment about the “perfect two story house,” parents who are “friggin‟ doctors and lawyers,” and Americans thinking they are the best race suggest that Anastasia Diana recognizes how race and racism are embedded in notions of being American, as well as the racializing effect on class, (hetero)sexuality, and cultural practices (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Bettie, 2003; Chavez, 2008; Flores & Benmayor, 1997; Ngai, 2004; Olsen, 1997; Ong, 1996; Rosaldo, 1994; 1997). She did not, for instance, state that the “living environment for American people” is a perfect one-

85 bedroom apartment with a single mom who works full-time as a “friggin‟” janitor. Further, Anastasia Diana‟s use of the possessive pronoun “their” rather than “our” to claim membership in “living environments” suggests that she does not perceive herself as belonging to the “American people” although she later states that she is not “ashamed” to say she is American. Of the 8 participants, Anastasia Diana‟s location within the middle-class appeared to be the most tenuous. During our second conversation, she spoke at length about having come from the “ghetto” in California. At one point, Anastasia Diana stated: Like, it‟s hard to come from the ghetto and make something of yourself. I‟m sorry, but the truth is in life, if there was a college and they wanted to look at two students, and there was one student who scored a 1500 [on the SAT] and another student who scored a 1500 [on the SAT], like they have the same scores and everything, they [the college] would look at the their backgrounds. One kid is from Crenshaw. Another kid is from the Hills. They‟re going to choose the kid from the Hills just because they know that their background is so politically correct. Anastasia Diana connects her class position with neoliberalism and education in this statement. She illuminates education‟s failed neoliberal promises of upward mobility for poor youths through their individual hard-work. Her use of the term “politically correct” indicates how kids from certain neighborhoods (i.e. wealthy, White/European American youths) are perceived as more desirable for college admissions despite discourses of equal opportunity. Put another way, Anastasia Diana sheds light on discourses of racializing and classed privilege that structure who does and who does not have access to a college education and the American Dream despite individual efforts and talent. Yet, Anastasia Diana also told me how thankful she was to her mom for moving to Florida, and for sending her to Palmetto City High School. As I previously mentioned in her portrait, Anastasia Diana will be a first-generation college student. While perhaps contradicting her previous statement, it is discourses of neoliberalism and the American Dream that Anastasia Diana draws upon in relation to the promises of education and upward mobility. When talking about the differences between youths from impoverished areas and youths from wealthy areas, she states:

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Like if you observe the hood kids and how they act and the rich area kids sometimes how they act, they‟re really ignorant and arrogant. And in the hood, like where I came from, in like middle school, we were taught our education is the most important thing. Like, that‟s what you‟re taught in the hood. Like you are taught, get an education and get out. Here [Palmetto City], it‟s like they are handed an education and they don‟t want it. Anastasia Diana suggests that her family moved to Florida, in part, as an attempt to invest in her future through education. Perhaps she believed this move held the promise of realizing the American Dream for her and her family. If she works hard, particularly in school, then she will have a reasonable chance to achieve success and get out of “the hood.” By drawing upon discourses of neoliberalism and the American Dream, education becomes Anastasia Diana‟s way out of the ghetto. Yet, her experiences in California taught her lessons in race and class inequalities and the limits of a citizen‟s consumption power and individual effort. Put another way, compared to the other participants who were more affluent, Anastasia Diana is more ambiguously positioned in relation to neoliberal ideas of merit, productivity, and consumption, as well as the neoliberal celebration and promise of progress, pulling oneself up by the bootstraps, and freedom. Although she takes up, even if somewhat wryly, neoliberal notions of being American that she encounters at various sites and amongst different social groups, Anastasia Diana recognizes the contradictions in the neoliberal promise and the possibilities of belonging to the “American people.” Laura and Viviana also drew upon neoliberal citizenship to talk about their pursuits of national belonging and the “American Dream.” As a brief reminder, Laura and Viviana were very close friends who chose to complete all interviews together. Laura is a U.S. resident from Colombia, and Viviana, who is from Venezuela, is in the process of U.S. residency. The following is an excerpt from our conversation on life in the United States: Jennifer: What do you guys think when I say “American Dream?” Laura: What? Jennifer: When I say “American Dream,” what comes to mind? Viviana: The whole white picket fence, a house, the close like little community with like the 5 kids and the mom and the dad. (laughs) Jennifer: And where did you learn to think, for you, that that‟s what comes to mind?

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Viviana: Mostly movies. Jennifer: Movies?30 Viviana: Yeah, that what they represent as like the typical American family with like all the assets. Jennifer: Okay. Laura: Yeah, I guess like, until recently, I just like viewed the American Dream as like the white picket fence. Pretty much just like living in a suburb, dad goes to work, comes back, mom stays home and does everything. Jennifer: Uh-huh. Lessons about being American and the American Dream emerge in a range of institutions and cultural locations. While Lucia points to education and Anastasia Diana points to various social groups as the sources of their learning about the American Dream, Laura and Viviana‟s ideas about being American and the American Dream are shaped through popular culture (i.e. movies). Additionally, similar to Anastasia Diana, Laura and Viviana articulate the raced, classed, gendered, and (hetero)sexualized subject positions that are produced within discourses of the American Dream. Their comment about a working dad, stay-at-home mom, and 5 kids reproduces middle-class, White, heterosexual masculinity and femininity as the norm. It also demonstrates how discourses and representations of race, class, gender, and (hetero)sexuality operate in relation to discourses and representations of the American Dream. Put another way, discourses of the American Dream construct “Americans” as middle-class, White, heterosexual women and men (Bettie, 2003; Lowe, 1996; Olsen, 1997; Hong, 2006). This construction, in turn, intensifies questions of national belonging around issues of race, class, gender, and sexuality because it positions people of color, poor people, queer people, and immigrants (basically all of my participants) as “unworthy” and “unfitting” of the national character (Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Flores & Benmayor, 1997; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Rosaldo, 1994; 1997; Villenas, 2009; Villenas & Moreno, 2001). Laura, however, was not finished with her explanation of the “American Dream.” She continued by saying:

30 As I will demonstrate in the following section entitled “Being Made into „Latinas‟,” Laura and Viviana drew upon popular culture, and movies in particular, to articulate their positionalities both as “citizens” and as “Latinas.”

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Laura: But, I guess recently when you actually like learn about what the American Dream is and stuff like that, I think it‟s more about like, like you have the opportunity to like make something of yourself in America. Like, you can come from anywhere, like any background and actually like be successful. Jennifer: Mm, hmm. Laura: It‟s on you more than it‟s on the society around you. Jennifer: Mm. Okay. Laura: Because in certain countries, it‟s not as easy to prosper even with all your initiative and determination and stuff like that…Personally, yeah, I just think the American Dream would be like, I came from, I didn‟t come from the slums or anything like that. My family has always pretty much been successful. But like, in this country, like, when you‟re just one person in such a large country but you have the opportunity to make yourself into somebody that all those people know, like all those people can recognize, then that‟s what I think about it [the American Dream]. Jennifer: Okay. In this excerpt, Laura articulates how discourses on neoliberalism function in relation to the American Dream. Akin to Lucia, she demonstrates strong beliefs in individual “initiative and determination” as the means to success in the United States. She does not even entertain the possibility that achievement in the U.S. might be shaped by “the society around you.” Additionally, Laura suggests that she is privileged by her family‟s class background, and that this class privilege makes her realization of success more likely in Colombia than individuals who are not privileged. She recognizes that in certain contexts (e.g. Colombia) society can shape a person‟s path to success. However, her use of the word “but” to describe the United States appears to indicate that in a U.S. context, Laura does not perceive how class operates in relation to discourses on neoliberalism and the American Dream. In other words, Laura, unlike Anastasia Diana, does not recognize how people in the United States are positioned differently within neoliberal notions of merit and promises of class mobility and achievement. Perhaps Anastasia Diana and Laura‟s different formations as neoliberal subjects help to explain how Laura portrayed herself in her collage.

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Laura‟s Who I Am collage (see Figure 2) was made up completely words and phrases that she either wrote in marker or clipped out of magazines; it did not contain media images, pictures of people, or other items that were included with the collage prompt (glitter, stickers, feathers, ribbon, and etc.) As I described Laura in her portrait, she comes from a professional class background in Colombia, holds leadership positions at the school level, and hopes to hold a leadership position at the state level. Her parents are highly formally educated – they attended school in both Colombia and the United States – and Laura holds high educational aspirations. It was very clear that Laura had a reputation as an excellent student and as a gifted leader.

Figure 2, Laura‟s Who I Am Collage

This is how Laura explained the meaning of her collage: I pretty much wrote kind of like the most like, kind of like important years. Like the preschool, elementary and then during elementary, there was like the big transition of moving here and everything, and the whole language barrier and just change in general. But, I think since I was little, I always viewed the change as more opportunity and like a chance to do something different. So, I kind of

90 always viewed it as a positive factor. And then I got these, what is it? Change started up? Because I like change. I think it‟s pretty much the challenge in life. Like I think if you don‟t change, if you don‟t keep challenging yourself, you don‟t keep changing your lifestyle, you‟re going to get bored. Like you only have one life, so. And then, pretty much here I just wrote my life – AP‟s, homework, stress, extracurriculars, leadership, yeah…And then, what keeps me going like um, that‟s keeps me going to take these challenges and like actually make something good out of it would be my family, the support I receive, and like, just like, I don‟t love learning as in I love school. But, I love like learning and experiences and like just to be able to come out of something new and that changed me, like that made me get a new perspective, like, I don‟t know. I love that. So, and I guess this all like pretty much my high school career and like all the transition has led, like pretty much made my dreams, not like, pretty much part of creating what I actually want to succeed, my dreams for the future. So, I created Cornell there. And pretty much like I said, when I wrote admissions, I meant admissions to college and like pretty much the general admissions, like stuff that you have to go through life. Like, not always being accepted but like trying your best to be that one person that can actually, that stands out from a group because you tried harder, because you did all this. So, I put two of my favorite universities – Johnson and Wales and Cornell. And then I put lead pretty much because you know everyone had that one talent that they have. I think that one of my strong qualities is leadership and stuff like that and I do want to do something in leadership. So, that‟ s why I put that in there. And then, I wrote like make an impact because like you only have one life and I think that even if you don‟t effect like, like not everybody remembers your name when you like die, I think that just being able to make a positive impact in like a small, even just telling a person (muffled) to be a part of PRIDE or to take a risk and compete, to taking risks, you can impact somebody‟s like just by opening their minds to some, to like a little detail can change so much of their perspective, personally. So, I think that um, all that I want to do in life kind of like goes into making an impact into other people‟s lives and an impact in my life pretty much

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with all of my challenges and pretty much just being able to make a better life for myself.31 Many of the words and phrases that Laura uses to describe her past, present, and future in the collage have something to do with education – “preschool, “elementary,” “honors,” “homework,” “extracurriculars,” “AP‟s,” admissions,” “college,” and so on. Laura mentioned to me during another interview that she and her parents simply expect that she gets A‟s in school. She also told me that she and Viviana frequently spend what little free time they have after school and on the weekends looking for college scholarships online. Additionally, Laura‟s collage and her explanation reference many themes that are threaded throughout neoliberalism and the American Dream. For example, when Laura states, “Like I think if you don‟t change, if you don‟t keep challenging yourself…you get bored,” she references the self as an ongoing project that requires challenges and changes in the development of resiliency and confidence. Her comment that she makes something good of these changes and challenges alludes to middle- class understandings about the value of hard work and discourses of success. Furthermore, Laura appears to perform neoliberal citizenship characteristics of self-advancement and agentic beliefs as well as precise ideas about the future when she says that all of the “transitions” she has experienced have led to her “dreams” of college and the importance of “creating an impact.” And finally, Laura‟s comment and explicitly written reference to “stress” on her collage appear to reference the embodied costs of coping with such high expectations and competitions. Unlike Anastasia Diana, Laura clearly considers the address of “neoliberal citizen” as unproblematic, a position that Anastasia Diana does not share. From Anastasia Diana‟s position, the neoliberal citizen characteristics that are produced by education and that constitute a set of self-disciplinary techniques are at best paradoxical. Carolina, who is a U.S. resident from Colombia, also addressed issues of race and class in her understanding of the pursuit of the American Dream and U.S. citizenship.

31 I would first like to state that I did not have an opportunity to ask follow-up questions about Laura‟s collage or her explanation of it. As I explained in Chapter 3, scheduling interviews with the participants could be quite challenging given their busy schedules. I also explained that my original intention was to analyze the collages for one week before meeting with the girls to discuss their collages. However, I chose to interview the girls when they returned their collages, again, because of scheduling difficulties. This interview about the collage occurred with Laura (and Viviana) on a Friday night that was the last day of school before winter break, and the evening before I began the 20-hour drive back to Ohio. Laura (and Viviana) was noticeably exhausted from a busy fall semester and I was pressed for time because of packing for my return trip home. My point is that I may not have inadequate information to answer questions about Laura‟s collage.

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Jennifer: When I say the American Dream, what comes to mind? Carolina: (laughs) Yeah, that‟s how I was raised. It‟s like coming from nothing and having it all. Normally what we think of is economic stability, right. So, to me, I‟m like on the path of the American Dream, personally, like my life. Umm, coming from Colombia and the house wasn‟t ours and now I‟m here and I‟m working towards my Ivy League. That‟s a huge, huge step. Living in the United States, where I would ever think of becoming a CEO. I‟m here and I‟m presented with the opportunity for the Ivy Leagues, right? Jennifer: And where did you learn to think certain things about the American Dream? Carolina: Remember how I told you I went to Texas to visit my cousins? Well, there are people there who have lived in the United States, their entire life, their entire life. And these are the actual Americans that have benefits through, you know, government. They have their needs met through government. It‟s a lot more easier for them if they really chose it, and they don‟t take advantage of that. I see them as the Americans in the trailer home. Why are they living there? They could work and find a company job or finish high school or finish college even it‟s like a BC [Broward College], even it‟s like a public college or something. They could do something and they choose not to! Carolina‟s ideas about what it means to be an American and pursue the American Dream are not formed in relation to rights, nor are they formed in relation to responsibilities a government may have to individuals or groups of people. Rather, Carolina‟s ideas about belonging and pursuing the American Dream are shaped in relation to a high-paying, knowledge- based job – CEO. As Ong (2006) explains, high-paying, knowledge based jobs have come to symbolize a distinct form of masculine, middle-class American identity as well as the promise of American citizenship (p. 158-159). Ong writes, “To be American is to be self-reliant, self- improving, and technologically savvy, qualities that ensure access to college education and a comfortable middle-class life, with all its accoutrements” (2006, p. 159). Perhaps it is unsurprising, then, that Carolina told me earlier in the conversation that Bill Gates from

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Microsoft, a model of citizenship that she encounters through the media, was her role model. She stated, “Bill Gates, Microsoft, wow, is something huge. To me, of course, that‟s something amazing! That‟s something I‟d want to create, something huge that would last for like a life time, centuries.” It appears that neoliberal discourses on American citizenship make it hard for Carolina to resist the gendered, racialized, and classed implications of national belonging. The concept of interpellation is helpful here, especially in relation to the subject positions of the immigrant as “worthy” or “unworthy” of citizenship. Within the process of interpellation, a subject is called into being by hailing her/him through direct modes of address (McRobbie, 2005). For example, an advertisement for house cleaning products “hail” the viewer as someone who is already in the ad – someone who would naturally consume the products because of the person s/he is. Carolina‟s resonance with neoliberal discourses on American citizenship might be understood in a similar way. That is, she is hailed as a “worthy Hispanic immigrant” by neoliberal discourses on citizenship. Carolina‟s desire to belong to this masculine, middle-class American status is tied to her critique of “Americans in the trailer,” or less well-educated Americans who make claims on welfare (Ong, 2006). In other words, Carolina draws on both discourses of neoliberalism and assimilation to position “Americans in the trailer” as the problem. She also draws upon these discourses when she later explained her thoughts on citizenship. Jennifer: What do you think other people think when they hear “citizenship?” Carolina: The people that are not getting it? Or, the people that stand on the side and watch other people get it? Jennifer: I guess it could be the people that stand on the side and watch other people get it, or from a sort of American perspective, whatever an American perspective is. Carolina: Exactly! The people who don‟t accept immigrants, like what immigrants are to them, who don‟t welcome immigrants, probably see citizenship as like a given. Like immigrants shouldn‟t have the right, right? But, I definitely think that Hispanics and any immigrants do make it worse for themselves because of the violence thing, because of taking advantage of the whole system. Because there‟s people that I know that come and have

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their kids here and their kids are American and then they go live in another country. That‟s just wrong. Again, Carolina is hailed as a “worthy Hispanic immigrant.” Her reaction suggests an internalization of neoliberalism and assimilation, where “Americans in the trailer” getting benefits through the government, though a problem, is easily remedied by choice. Yet, “Hispanics and any immigrants” getting benefits is “taking advantage of the whole system,” “just wrong,” and, thus, unable to be remedied. There is a sub-textual suggestion that neoliberal discourses on citizenship are not to be held accountable for their forms of racialization and classism. Furthermore, by drawing upon negative racialized and classed stereotypes of Latinas/os and immigrants, Carolina is able to locate herself in an American narrative of citizen/illegal immigrant tensions. It is interesting that she does not seem to even allow for the possibility that she might be a Hispanic or an immigrant who is not accepted by “the people” she references. In other words, in order to belong to the American national community and pursue the American Dream, Carolina must understand her experiences and construct her subjectivity within the accepted boundaries of neoliberalism and assimilation. This section explored the first of this study‟s four themes. In the examples above, I attempted to demonstrate how five of my participants are made into “American citizens” through a neoliberal discourse. More specifically, I have tried to demonstrate that when national belonging and the “American Dream” are framed through neoliberalism, the girls must construct themselves as particular kinds of gendered, racialized, and classed subjects in order to legitimately make claims to citizenship, or the possibility of it. While Lucia, Anastasia Diana, Laura, Viviana, and Carolina were neither positioned by nor took up neoliberalism in uniform ways, they nevertheless recognized how it regulated both inclusion and exclusion in American society. Being-Made into “Latinas:” Stereotypes and Essentializing Identity In this section, I present the second theme of this study. I examine how images and discourses of Latinas influenced my participants lived experiences. More specifically, I explore how my participants were made into “Latina” youths. These images and discourses focused largely on stereotypes and notions of an essentialized identity. By examining how Latina youths

95 are constructed through racialized, gendered, and sexualized imageries, my aim is to explore the power dynamics that impact this particular population of girls. Stereotypes: Chongas and Immigrants As I talked with my participants, they discussed many aspects of their experiences, ranging from im/migration to school to family to friends to romance. I explained in Chapter 3 that interview questions (see Appendices H, I, and J) included a variety of issues – im/migration, life in the United States, ties to countries of birth, gender, race, nationality, citizenship, and education. The emphasis that many of the girls placed on sexuality suggested that it was an overriding concern that they were negotiating in their everyday lives. As discussed in this dissertation‟s feminist transnational theoretical framework, discourses and images on Latinas play a central role in the gendered, racialized, and sexualized constructions of “Latinas” in the United States (Chavez, 2008; Guzmán & Valdivia, 2004; Morrison, 2009; Valdivia, 1998). Furthermore, these discourses and images provide the material for identity formations that make Latina youths into particular kinds of subjects (Bettie, 2003; Hernandez, 2008; Miranda, 2003), and that organize and shape social relations within the United States and between the United States and Latin America (Chavez, 2008; Guzmán and Valdivia, 2004; Hernandez, 2008; Oboler, 1995). Many of the girls realized that Latina bodies were sites where contested cultural, political, and racial struggles were played out. They recognized that the commodification of the Latina body rendered them vulnerable when they had to define their identity in U.S. society. For example, the tensions between the “hot” Latina and the “virtuous and virginal” Latina (Chavez, 2008; Valdivia, 1998) emerged in Laura‟s story about visiting cousins in Central Florida. Jennifer: Now, where do you think people learn these kinds of things, like in terms of like [what it means to be Latina] Laura: Movies, I think. Viviana: Probably movies. Laura: Yeah. Viviana: I don‟t even know. Laura: I think how they‟re brought up has a lot to do with it. Like, the people here [Palmetto City], like they‟re a lot more opened-minded, obviously than up

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north. Like, I‟ve talked to my cousins‟ friends up north, and even like my cousin‟s best friend, and my cousin is Colombian. Jennifer: They‟re in Gainesville, right? Laura: Yeah, Gainesville. It‟s not like Minnesota or anything. Like, even he had a mentality, like, we went to the movies or something, and then I don‟t know what, but he made like a comment that like Hispanic girls hook up with anybody or something. And obviously like, (laughs), I have a short temper so I was like, “What are you talking about? I‟m sorry. I just met you and I‟m not going to fuck you.” Viviana: Yeah. Viviana & Laura: (laugh) Jennifer: (smiling) Tell him what you really think next time. Viviana & Laura: (laugh) Laura: No, but they were like, they were just talking about that. Like, they don‟t have a Hispanic girl up there to give them that example, like “Yeah, we just go hook up with everybody.” It‟s just a mentality that I think they get from like movies and I guess news and stuff. Laura recognizes that popular culture such as movies and the media such as news programs are sites which produce “truths” about Latinas and their sexuality. In this excerpt, she feels the burden of making it clear to her cousin‟s friends that adolescent Latinas “are not like that.” Laura is in a struggle to protect adolescent Latina bodies from the positioning produced by sexualized and racialized media imageries while simultaneously struggling to reposition her body and sexual identity in alternative ways. Scarlett was also negotiating the tensions between the “hot” and the “virginal” Latina. Scarlett appears concerned about the perception that White/European Americans in general have of Latinas. Jennifer: What do you think when I say “Latina?” Scarlett: Respectable girls. Look up to their family members. Very loyal to anyone. Very trustworthy. Jennifer: How do you think people in the United States view Latina youths? Scarlett: Like sluts.

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Jennifer: Really? Where do you think that people in the United States learn to think that Latinas are sluts? Scarlett: I don‟t know. Maybe because of big boobies. Like, showing chongas. Do you know what those are? The girls that slick their hair back with really, really, really tight clothing and big hoop earrings. Oh crap, yes. For those readers who may be unfamiliar, chonga is often described by Latinas in South Florida as a low-class, slutty, and crass young, Latina woman (Hernandez, 2008).32 Laura and Viviana explained chongas to me as being “like American sluts.” Thus, the figure of the chonga produces and reflects discourses about adolescent Latinas‟ sexuality, ethnicity, and class. The question of class explicitly emerges in Scarlett‟s transcript in relation to media images. As a matter of fact, the notion of class in relation to being Latina recurred throughout interviews with some of the participants, particularly those whose who had aspirations for an elite formal higher education in the United States. Scarlett‟s response about chongas, as well Viviana and Laura‟s explanation, indicate that non-normative behavior, morals, and sexuality index race and class amongst the girls. In other words, the chonga‟s clothing, accessories, and hair are used as markers of class to symbolically separate the “good” and, as Scarlett states, “respectable” Latina girls from the “bad” and, as Viviana and Laura explain, “slutty” Latina girls. The morality that is associated with the “respectable”/ “slutty” (read – virginal/whore) binary works to hides problems of class divisions and racism within Latina/o communities. The girls‟ construction of chonga as “slutty” leads to the concept of “respectability,” which becomes a mechanism by which working-class and less formally educated Latinas are positioned as dangerous and excessive (Hernandez, 2008). Put another way, the girls‟ mobilization of the chonga figure helps to frame them as good, orderly subjects. However, this mobilization also suggests an internalization of the ways that Latin America and Latina bodies are read as sexual, passionate, and sensual against the United States and White, middle-class U.S. citizens, which are read as intellectual, restrained, and cultured (Chavez, 2008; Guzmán and Valdivia, 2004; Hernandez, 2008; Oboler, 1995). The girls‟ efforts to counter the hypersexualization of Latinas lead them to discipline and normalize themselves in relation to behavioral, moral, and sexual, and norms (Foucault, 1977).

32 For a more detailed explanation of the meanings associated with the chonga identity and the discursive fields in which this images circulates, see Jillian Hernandez‟ article “Miss, you look like a Bratz doll:” On chonga girls and sexual aesthetic excess (2008).

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Images of Latinas also derive from racialized, gendered, and sexualized constructions of “immigrant” (Alarcon et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Chavez, 2008; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Kim-Puri, 2005; Mayuzumi, 2008; Ngai, 2004; Villenas, 2009; Villenas & Moreno, 2001). My participants were unexceptionally facing racism and stereotypes in relation to this construct. For example, with the exception of one of the girls, all of the participants experienced resistance from their White/European American peers, who made remarks to them such as “This is America! Speak English!” Although the United States does not have an official national language, the country emerged through the White/European colonization and conquest of indigenous peoples (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Chavez, 2008; Flores, 2000; Flores & Benmayor, 1997; Oboler, 1995; Rocco, 2004; Takaki, 1993). One result of this colonization is that English has become the hegemonic language, held up as symbol of national unity and a successfully assimilated immigrant (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Lippi-Green, 1997). Thus, Latina youths are made into “immigrants,” or outsiders to the United States, when they do not speak English. However, speaking English does not automatically mean that a person will be considered “American.” Rather, the “American citizen” has been constructed not only through language, but also on the basis of skin color. As previously mentioned, while citizenship may be understood as universal, scholars have observed that citizenship in the United States has been racialized and gendered since the writing of the U.S. constitution (Chavez, 2008; Delgado-Bernal et al., 2008; Knight-Abowitz & Harnish; Lowe, 1996; Ngai, 2004; Oboler, 1995; Ong, 1996; Rosaldo, 1994; Takaki, 1993). That is, to be eligible and intelligible as a “real American,” one must be U.S born, English speaking, and middle-class. Being a person of color and/or speaking a language other than English, particularly as your first language, is associated with immigrants. Even amongst my participants, language and race were the materials they drew upon to construct “immigrants.” For example, the following passage from a conversation with Gabriela illustrates the power of language and race to shape who is and who not considered and immigrant: Jennifer: What do you think that American people think when they hear “immigrant?” Gabriela: Maybe when they hear immigrants, although, I feel like when they hear immigrants, they think if like Mexicans and Hispanics for some reason. They don‟t think of other countries. Like if you see a European person, you don‟t think they‟re an immigrant. When you see a Hispanic, like I

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feel like it clicks right away like, “Oh, immigrant.” And I think they see it as someone, I don‟t know, invader. Even if you‟re born here, like you say Hispanic and people think immigrant right away. Jennifer: Where do you they learn, American people learn, get these ideas about immigrant? Gabriela: I guess because also when they see a lot of like most immigrants, they‟re Hispanic. Also, maybe people from Europe, I mean, they still speak English. So, you don‟t see more as that different from yourself. Jennifer: Okay, but they don‟t speak English in France or Germany or Italy. Gabriela: Yeah, but still I think it‟s different because there‟s more Hispanics. So, when you‟re Hispanic and you come here, you group yourself with Hispanics. So, when Americans see Hispanics, they see a group of them. Jennifer: Okay. Gabriela: And when they see someone from like France or something like that, since there‟s not so many, like they‟re not, they don‟t stand out as much. Jennifer: Okay. Gabriela: They don‟t think of it in their heads. And since, I mean, I don‟t know. Even if you tell them, “I‟m from France,” like you don‟t think immigrant. I don‟t think [immigrant]. I‟m not American and I don‟t think. When I see someone from France, the first thing that comes to mind isn‟t immigrant. Jennifer: Okay. Gabriela: It‟s like, “Okay, you‟re from France. That‟s cool.” I never think immigrant. When I see someone Hispanic, I think, “Oh, yeah. You‟re an immigrant.” Even if it‟s an American, you know? I think it‟s that because most Hispanics stand out and most Hispanics come here. It‟s just like prototype. I don‟t know how it was created, but it‟s like a prototype. Gabriela‟s conflation of European-ness (read – Whiteness) with the English language re- emphasizes the aforementioned point that English has reached a dominant status in many countries through White/European colonization and imperialism (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Lippi- Green, 1997; Willinksy, 1998). Her use of the word “prototype” to describe why “most Hispanics stand out” suggests that Gabriela takes up racist narratives around U.S. history that

100 exclude Latinas/os (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Chavez, 2008; Takaki, 1993), and that she takes up homogenizing narratives around Latina/o communities‟ different histories with and modes of incorporation into the United States (Chavez, 2008; Flores, 1997; 2000; González, 2005; Oboler, 1995; Rocco, 2004). As previously noted in Chapter 3, the racialization of Mexicans following the Mexican American War in 1848 served as a template, or “prototype,” through which Latinas/os have since been conceptualized by dominant U.S. society (Chavez, 2008; Flores, 1997; Ngai, 2004; Rocco, 2004). Taking up racist and homogenizing narratives signals how Gabriela is subjected to and normalized by discourses on nation and racialization, and that she sees herself and Latina/o communities through these discourses. Furthermore, the fact that Gabriela does not consider French people, and Europeans broadly speaking, to be immigrants, reasserts rather than contests the racist history of U.S. citizenship. It also reproduces racist nationalist discourses that construct people of color as “immigrants” and “illegitimate” members of a national community (Alarcon et al., 1999; Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Villenas, 2009; Villenas & Moreno, 2001). As mentioned in Chapter 3, Latinas/os have been in the United States before the arrival of White/European colonizers, thereby pointing out that Latinas/os are not “invaders” (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Chavez, 2008; Flores, 1997; 2000; Flores & Benmayor, 1997; Oboler, 1995; Rocco, 2004). Gabriela‟s internalization of the discourses about who and who is not an “immigrant” in the United States serves as a very important reminder – it is crucial to remember that not all languages and skin tones evoke negative reactions such as “invader;” instead, it is languages that are linked to both skin tones that aren‟t White and “underdeveloped” non-European countries that evoke negative reactions. In this way, Gabriela and other Latina youths are made into immigrants, or “invaders.” Throughout the interview, Gabriela expressed frustration with the discrimination against Latina/o people. Through her lived experiences in crossing national and linguistic borders, there is evident to suggest that Gabriela came to recognize the socially constructed differences between Europeans and non-Europeans, as well as the implications of these differences. Essentializing Identity: Place of Birth and the Spanish Language The importance of place of birth and the Spanish language as markers of being-made into Latinas was evident in many of the girls‟ discussions about identity, which were intertwined with discussions about struggles to create ways of belonging. Here, the girls, and more specifically,

101 the two U.S. born participants – Emma and Anastasia Diana – were questioned not by the dominant culture, but by other Latinas because of perceptions of their Spanish-speaking proficiency and skin color. In their narratives, Emma and Anastasia Diana made claims regarding the significance of their “authentic” Latina identities in their relationships with other Latina youths. Thus, they were made into “Latina” youths not only by dominant U.S. culture and society as explained in the section above, but also by other Latina youths. To illustrate how place of birth and the Spanish language functioned as hegemonic discourses and exclusionary practices of those who did not fit the “right” way to be Latina, I present and analyze excerpts from conversations when the girls describe their experiences in South Florida. Emma, who was born in California but whose parents are Colombian, explains: Jennifer: In South Florida, what are your experiences being both Latina and American? Emma: Umm…I think it‟s a good experience. There‟s a lot of Spanish people here, so I can, you know, communicate with them and talk to them. And, I have a friend that‟s also like me, but she‟s Venezuelan and she was born here. And we understand sometimes we don‟t know how to say things in Spanish, and we talk in English and Spanish. Jennifer: Okay. So you feel like there‟s people here that you can connect with Emma: Yeah! Jennifer: and who understand your experiences, and what it‟s like to be both Spanish and American Emma: Yeah! Jennifer: and you don‟t have to explain. For example, with the language… Emma: Yeah! When I asked how important her relationships were with other Latina girls, Anastasia Diana replied that she doesn‟t have many Latina friends in Palmetto City because she doesn‟t “know that much Spanish.” Anastasia Diana explained: I read Spanish. I write it. And, I understand it completely. I‟m not incompetent of it, you know? But speaking it is very hard for me. I feel like a lot of Hispanics that do speak Spanish and me, a girl that doesn‟t speak Spanish, is more on the

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outskirts. Because it‟s like, “How can we be friends with you if you can‟t make us feel comfortable speaking our national language?” I asked Anastasia Diana how this made her feel. She replied, “Really bad! There are some friendships that I have with girls that are close. They tell me so many things in Spanish, but how I respond is in English. They‟ll be like „You know, we really got to get you to start responding in Spanish.‟” The materials that provide the identity Emma and Anastasia Diana imagine as “Latina” in South Florida – language and place of birth in these particular examples – are constraining traditions and practices that discipline the girls. Neither of them states that their close friends are girls who were born in Latin America. As a matter of fact, both of them are very clear that their friends are not first-generation Latinas. Instead, Anastasia Diana and Emma recognize that their place of birth, California rather than a Latin American country, and language make them different from other Latinas in South Florida. In other words, they recognize that the “right” way to be Latina can be a hegemonic, essentializing discourse and exclusionary of those who do not fit in. Anastasia Diana‟s narrative is particularly helpful in illuminating other policing and normalizing aspects of discourses on an essential Latina identity. Clearly, Anastasia Diana‟s move from California to South Florida was of great significance to her. Although this move had occurred roughly four years ago, she nevertheless describes its significance even though my question was specifically about the previous year of her life: Jennifer: What‟s changed most in your life in the past year? Anastasia Diana: Culture shock. Jennifer: Culture shock. Can you talk a little more about that? Anastasia Diana: Like, in detail? Umm…people. People‟s personalities, people traits, people traditions. Hispanic traditions. Umm…In California, there isn‟t such a range on Hispanics. You know, it‟s just like if you‟re Hispanic, you‟re brown skinned and you have brown eyes, brown hair, or occasionally blue eyes and brown hair. (laughs) Here, you are not Hispanic. You are not individualized as Hispanic. You are individualized Colombian, Cuban, Venezuelan, Nicaraguan, Salvadorian, Cuban and Black, African and Spanish,

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you know. There‟s such a more range, that it‟s kind of like “wow!” …And one of the first things that you probably talk about, one of the first things that I was introduced or addressed as is “What type of Hispanic are you?” Because I think they ask me, like “What are you?” And I was like, I looked at my skin, and I was like, “I‟m Spanish. What are you?” (laughs) And she was like, “Well, what type?” And I was like, “Well…” Jennifer: Did you understand what she… Anastasia Diana: I really didn‟t know what she meant. I was like, well, you know, I‟m Hispanic, Spanish. I talk Spanish.” And she was like, “Well, where are your parents from?” And I was like, “Well, my parents are from California, but I‟m Spanish because of Nicaraguan, Salvadorian, Aztec, you know, all these things. And then, they told me that I was a White Spanish. Jennifer: A White Spanish. And what did they mean that you are a White Spanish? Anastasia Diana: It means that I was not born…pretty much, some people think of me as…they‟re like, “Oh, you‟re White.” And I was like, “Why? I‟m not White. I don‟t (A.D.‟s voice was mumbled and I couldn‟t understand). I have Hispanic heritage.” And they‟re like, “Well, you‟re White because you were born here in America.” And I was like, “Okay, so why are you Spanish?” “Because I was born on Hispanic soil.” And I was like, “Oh.” We can see from the excerpt how Anastasia Diana identifies as Hispanic. She was confused by and perhaps resented questions about her identity as thinly masked attempts to police her claims to an identity. She feels that within the Latina community in South Florida, she is not fully accepted because she is “White,” meaning that she was born in the United States. However, it appears that Anastasia Diana sees herself as “brown,” meaning that she was born in the United States with particular cultural traditions and physical features. This lack of acceptance within the Latina community is significant because it became an issue upon moving to Florida. Anastasia Diana did not field these types of questions when she lived in California. This suggests

104 that she had not previously been exposed to particular regional identities nor forced to “choose” being White, a label that is apparently imposed on Latina/o youths who were not born in Latin America. In South Florida, Anastasia Diana is questioned by other Latina youths because of her skin tone. When she is confronted with the question, “What type of Hispanic are you?” or “What are you?” her legitimacy and agency to speak as a Latina are constrained. In addition to the discourses and images produced by dominant U.S. society, place of birth and language were normalizing practices that disciplined Emma and Anastasia Diana within the Latina community at PCHS. This section explored the second of this study‟s four themes. It described the ways that my participants were made into “Latina” subjects through images of the chonga, discourses on immigrant, and notions of an essential Latina identity. It also explored how my participants were positioned within the virgin/whore and citizen/immigrant dichotomies, as well as how they negotiated these imageries and discourses in ways that reproduced racialized, classed, sexualized, and nationalist hierarchies. Yet, I hope to later demonstrate that these multiple discourses and images were not only constraining; they were also productive. Put another way, “Latina” became a discursive spaces of negotiation for a variety of identifications and social relations. Talking Back on “American Citizenship:” Flexible Citizenship and Dissenting Citizenship In the two preceding sections, I attended to the ways that my participants were made into “American citizens” and “Latina” subjects. In this section, I address the third theme of this study. I explore how Latina youths exerted their agency in what it means to be an “American citizen.” More specifically, I examine my participants‟ practices of self-making or subject-making (Ong, 1996) in relation to discourses on assimilation, discourses on citizenship as universally available, and the position of the “unworthy immigrant.” I explore my participants‟ subject-making of American citizenship across and between different national, cultural, and linguistic borders through two forms of cultural citizenship – flexible citizenship and dissenting citizenship. As mentioned in Chapter 2, cultural citizenship, broadly speaking, is attentive to how individuals are made and attempt to make themselves into particular kinds of subjects (Ong, 1996). Cultural citizenship is useful for pointing out how national belonging is based on not only on political, economic, and legal dimensions of citizenship, but is also defined through social and cultural

105 realms of belonging (Berger, 2009; Chavez, 2008; Lee, 2006; Maira, 2009; Ong, 1996). I frame my presentation of the data in this section through hooks (1989) notion of “talking back.” hooks (1989) explains Moving from silence to speech is for the oppressed, the colonized, the exploited, and those who stand side by side in struggle, a gesture of defiance that heals, that makes new life and new growth possible. It is the act of speech, of “talking back,” that is no mere gesture of empty words, that is the expression of our movement from object to subject – the liberated voice. (p. 9) I do not mean to claim that my participants talked back in ways that necessarily liberated from them the constraining and normalizing aspects of discourse and images. Indeed, there were times the some of the girls talked back to images and discourses as they simultaneously internalized and perpetuated stereotypes and hierarchies about themselves and other Latina youths. As Foucault (1978; 1980) explains, resistance and power are imbricated; thus, there is no position outside or transcendent of discourses from which we can speak and act. Nevertheless, I believe the girls‟ conversations offer moments of possibilities for understanding how they made spaces and practiced ways of belonging in order to feel legitimate about their identities and location. Flexible Citizenship For some of the participants, their desires to become legal U.S. citizens were not viewed as conflicting with the attachments they had with their countries of birth. Their understanding of U.S. citizenship was not rigid; rather, their understanding of citizenship was “flexible.” According to Ong (1999), flexible citizenship refers to how migrants‟ respond to transnationalism by strategically using citizenship to harness resources and possibilities across nation-states. She writes, I use the term flexible citizenship to refer especially to the strategies and effects of mobile managers, technocrats, and professionals seeking to both circumvent and benefit from different nation-state regimes by selecting different sites for investments, work, and family relocation. (Ong, 1999, p. 112). In the context of immigrant youth cultures, Maira (2009) finds that the form flexible citizenship takes can be located in young people‟s stories of migration and citizenship, and how these stories are intertwined with memories of family and friends and goals for education and career. Flexible citizenship does not suggest that people are legal citizens of two different nation-states; rather, it

106 leaves unanswered questions of national loyalty by elucidating people‟s use of citizenship for legal and economic purposes (Maira, 2009). But while flexible citizenship may reflect feelings of belonging that span across national borders as well as the strategic uses of citizenship in terms of education, work, and re-establishing family and friendship ties, it does not ignore the role of the state in determining who has access to such flexibility. In other words, transnational mobility for work and re-establishing family and friendship ties is necessarily linked to legal citizenship (Ong, 1999; Maira, 2009). Scarlett, Carolina, Viviana, Laura, Gabriela, and Lucia all spoke about feelings of belonging in relation to more than one nation-state. When I asked if they thought they could be both American and Colombian or American and Venezuelan, each of them responded affirmatively even if somewhat hesitantly. Scarlett shared her thoughts, “I consider myself American and Venezuelan. I mean, I guess I just really fall in the middle. I‟m not one or the other anymore after living here [Palmetto City] for so many years.” Scarlett announces a form of flexible citizenship that synthesizes and balances being between and within the different nation- states to which she belongs. During our third conversation, Scarlett also drew upon flexible citizenship in her narration of her Who I Am collage (see Figure 3). On the top of the collage, there is an image of a child reclining on a couch with a stuffed teddy bear sitting in a chair in front of the couch. Scarlett explained that this image represents her future career aspiration, which is to be a psychologist. Below the child and teddy bear, there is a picture of some of Scarlett‟s friends with whom she is in the school band at PCHS. Other images of friends and family cover the collage. However, my interest is in how Scarlett explains the shape and colors of the collage, as well as the possible meanings that can be drawn from this explanation in relation to the pictures of her family. The following is an excerpt from our conversation: Jennifer: Why did you choose to do, I am assuming it‟s Scarlett: a house. Jennifer: a house. Okay. Scarlett: What? The design of the house? Jennifer: Yeah. Scarlett: I don‟t know. Like, on the paper [collage prompt], it said about home and stuff. I was like, “Maybe I should just do a house and everything that I do

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in it.” I love my house! (laughs) Well, actually, I lived in two different places, but they‟re different houses. Jennifer: Okay. Scarlett: Venezuela and here. And then, I lived in Coral Reef (pseudonym) twice. We moved from our original house…because my brother was like a baby and now he‟s bigger. So, we had to start moving. I love my house! It‟s my sanctuary where I can relax when I‟m not doing anything else other than homework…I just realized something (points at the glitter the collage). Those are the three colors of the Venezuelan flag – yellow, red, blue or yellow, blue, red. That‟s weird. I didn‟t realize that. Scarlett portrays herself in both the past and the present when she describes the shape of her collage – a house. She demonstrates a temporal and spatial flexibility towards belonging that plays out in the various locations (Venezuela and Palmetto City) she calls “home.” By painting the colors of the Venezuelan flag onto a collage that is in the shape of her Palmetto City house, Scarlett is enabled to construct shifting notions of here and there. Furthermore, the images of her family at the bottom of the collage perhaps mimic the movement from her nation of birth to her current nation of settlement. Scarlett explained that these photos were taken at a Venezuelan beach. In other words, the overlay of the pictures and the yellow, blue, and red glitter (Venezuela) onto the collage-as-house (Palmetto City) suggest that the notion of “home” and spaces of belonging are mercurial for Scarlett. She claims these spaces by placing “MY LIFE” in the center of her collage. In her narration and collage images, Scarlett resists discourses of immigration as a movement away from nation of birth toward assimilation into the land of settlement (Maira, 2009; Manalansan, 2003; Smith, 1998).

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Figure, 3, Scarlett‟s Who I Am Collage

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Carolina articulated a complex notion of being both American and Colombian. When I asked her to elaborate on how she thought she could be both, she said: I definitely believe in both because, okay, I wasn‟t born here, but I‟m very Colombian. I do not want to leave my culture…but we‟re still American. We still have the same opportunities. This is where we live. Our cars are here. Our house is here. I can tell you that I love Colombia, but I would never go live there. This is, here, like here in the US, this is where I live. This is my life. I‟m as very much American as I am Colombian. And even my parents would agree with that. They would not go back to live in Colombia. The culture and who we are, it‟s beautiful but this is where we are. For Carolina, a notion of flexible citizenship is created, in part, by drawing upon what she sees as benefits to living in each country – the culture in Colombia and the economic stability in the United States. Her recognition of these benefits resulted from her family‟s move from Colombia to South Florida. Carolina told me earlier in the interview that although she and her parents lived in a very large home in Colombia, they did not own the home. Her grandmother owned the home. Furthermore, she explained that it was very difficult for her parents to earn the money to pay for her school and books. Thus, it appears that Carolina‟s flexible citizenship was part of her parents‟ strategy to avoid the economic uncertainty of living in Colombia. Her feelings of belonging to Colombia are not necessarily incompatible with her feelings of belonging to the United States. Viviana, who was born in Venezuela, also did not view the notion of belonging to two different countries as incompatible. She explained, “I think so. There can be a blend of cultures in both. You can be both. I mean, you‟re always going to lean more to one side. It‟s never like you‟re going to be fully one of them, but I don‟t think you could just split it in half.” Viviana understands flexible citizenship as a form of cultural citizenship that is shaped by the cultural boundaries which distinguish being Venezuelan from being American. She does not, like Carolina, mention economic boundaries. Furthermore, Viviana understands flexible citizenship as being in direct opposition to discourses on assimilation. At no point in our interviews did Viviana suggest that being American mandated a complete erasure of being Venezuelan through the acceptance of dominant U.S. discourses on, for example, race, citizenship, and immigration. Similar to Carolina and Viviana, Laura highlights notions of cultural belonging to two different

110 countries. However, unlike Carolina and Viviana, Laura makes explicitly visible the ways in which a particular geographic location can produce a fluid relationship between being American and, in Laura‟s case, Colombian. Laura responded to Viviana‟s explanation offered above: I don‟t know. I see it as the opposite. Like, how I‟m not fully Colombian. I go to Colombia and people call me “gringa” and like, half the time, I agree with them because I don‟t share all the same customs. I don‟t share all the like view, like general views like living with your parents [until you‟re married]. I just don‟t like it [living with your parents] and stuff like that. Like, there‟s a lot of stuff that would make me American. A lot of like my way of life that makes me American and I‟m accepting of it because I think it makes me more well-rounded that I have both cultures in me. Like, I think I‟m more Colombian just because of where I‟ve been raised, like how I have been raised. But, I think I‟m also like partly American just because of all the cultures like, all the um things that I do similarly and stuff like that. Laura is articulating how her travels back and forth between Colombia and the United States open up a space for her national identifications that exceeds the borders of one nation- state. Additionally, her cultural identification with Colombia and the United States is not only contextually produced, but it is also is clear opposition to discourses of assimilation. However, it is important to point out that while Laura is a U.S. resident, Viviana is in the process of residency. Laura‟s movement back and forth between the United States and her country of birth is far less restricted than Viviana‟s, who mentioned that she had not been back to Venezuela in five years and was uncertain when she would have the chance to visit again. Thus, Laura may perhaps have more opportunities to experience how feelings of belonging across national boundaries can be differently produced in various geographic locations. Furthermore, Laura‟s understanding of flexible citizenship, like Carolina‟s, is tied to her family‟s questionable relationship to a middle-class lifestyle in Colombia. Earlier in the interview, Laura explained that her family‟s initial reason for moving to the United States was to experience life in South Florida for 1 or 2 years. Their move was intended to be temporary because her family‟s company was doing fine in Colombia. Yet, her parents‟ decision to stay was tied to the crash of her father‟s company in Colombia and the employment opportunities that

111 arose in South Florida. In other words, Laura‟s flexible citizenship cannot be separated from the labor opportunities which arose for her parents across national borders. Gabriela‟s story is also particularly helpful in pointing out how a person‟s legal status can shape their cultural affiliations to one or more nations, as well as how one‟s affiliations are contextually produced. As a reminder, Gabriela became a naturalized U.S. citizen one week before the first interview. I was clearly interviewing her at a moment in her life when issues of identity and belonging were shifting, taking on significance for her in a way that was different from any of her previous experiences. When I asked about the possibility of being both American and Venezuelan, Gabriela stated: I‟m Venezuelan and American because I have both. But you‟re not going to ask someone, no one‟s going to tell you, “I‟m American and Venezuelan.” I don‟t think anyone is ever going to say that. They‟re going to say where they‟re born or if they moved here when they were like two. They‟ll say, “Yeah, I‟m American, but I was born in Venezuela.” But, I think if you grew up there, you‟ll always say, “I‟m Venezuelan.” But I still feel like I‟m American. In this statement, Gabriela expresses ambivalence about belonging to the United States. The emphasis she places on place of birth in relation to national identity indicates the impact that Venezuela has had in differentiating her membership in the American national community. This ambivalence is further expressed when I asked Gabriela how she felt American. Gabriela replied: Because then I go to Venezuela, and that‟s when I [feel American]. Because here, I would never think I was American. Yeah, I live in America and like and everything, but since I have to compare it to Venezuela, that‟s when I‟m like, “Wow! I‟m so American.” Or like, if I go there and sometimes I‟m talking to my friends and I like say something in English and I‟m like, “Aaahhh! No! I‟m American!” They kind of like make fun of you, like joking around. They would say, “You‟re such an American. You‟re already American.” And I would be like, “Shut up!” and everybody would get in a fight. Now, when people say, “Wow, you‟re so American.” [I say], “What can I do? I am American.” (laughs) These comments, particularly Gabriela‟s rejection of then claim to being American, are significant in light of her recent naturalization as a U.S. citizen. Her flexible citizenship and her forms of belonging are shaped by cultural boundaries and practices (e.g. speaking English) in

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Venezuela and by racial boundaries in the United States. Gabriela recognizes the different ways that Venezuela and South Florida produced both her “Venezuelan-ness” and her “American- ness.” As mentioned in the previous section, Gabriela stated that even she sees Latinas/os, regardless of their place of birth, as immigrants and not as citizens. She appears to painfully feel her mobility between the United States and Venezuela, as well as the localized conditions which construct her subjectivity and ways of belonging. Put another way, Gabriela‟s flexible citizenship is fraught with complicated feelings as she negotiates different cultural and racial positions in the United States and Venezuela. Her experiences do not necessarily chart a linear and developmental route that starts with immigration and ends with a heroic story of liberation and self-fulfillment through U.S. citizenship (Maira, 2009; Manalansan, 2003; Smith, 1998). For Gabriela, immigration and legal citizenship have disrupted and created rifts in her friendship bonds. Gabriela‟s flexible citizenship, therefore, is constituted through struggles that move back and forth between joy and pain. When I asked Lucia if she thought she could be both Venezuelan and American, she replied: I think that you can because in my case, I was merely born in Venezuela. I lived there for the first 7 years of my life. So, I mean, I definitely feel Venezuelan. It‟s mainly because of connections. Family, you know. Family that‟s still there though I feel the ties to my country and to my people and things like that. But, I lived here for more than half of my life, so and the opportunities that I‟ve been offered, the life I‟ve lived so well, I think it would almost be unfair to not consider myself part American. What I would like to draw attention to in this passage is what appears to be Lucia‟s desire for the maintenance and/or recreation of family ties. Lucia mentioned that her family moved to the United States for the perceived economic and educational opportunities, both of which she alludes to above. She also told me earlier in the conversation that because she and her family were in the process of residency, they were unable to travel and visit family in Venezuela. Lucia explained the impact of waiting for residency, “So, we‟re hoping it comes by the end of the year. We‟ll go visit as soon as possible because we have family over there that can‟t come over here. Especially my mom, it affects her a lot. I mean, we‟ll try to go as soon as possible but just not for a long period of time.” Lucia clearly recognizes that her rights to travel remain tied to her legal

113 relationship within a geographically bounded nation-state. Further, in her family‟s migration from Venezuela, her ties to her extended family were altered. I described in Lucia‟s portrait how she reflected on the importance of the Venezuelan people in her Palmetto City neighborhood, stating that she was very close with them. This comment coupled with the excerpts above suggest that she longs for the family and friendship ties that she left behind. For Lucia, flexible citizenship is an emotional response to the condition of transnationalism that provides connections to her family in Venezuela. Many of the participants recognized how families were affected by immigration and citizenship. Viviana, Laura, Emma, and Gabriela noted the importance of legal U.S. citizenship and how an individual‟s rights were tethered to a territorially bounded nation-state. None of them said that they wanted a U.S. passport in order to one day be able to vote. Rather, their comments about U.S. citizenship were about traveling freely within and beyond the geographical borders of the United States. For instance, Viviana and Laura explain one of their reasons for wanting U.S. citizenship: Viviana: Like, I‟ve never been to Italy. I have citizenship from there. I obviously don‟t identity myself as Italian, but I have their citizenship. That doesn‟t mean I‟m like Italian. I have your citizenship, but I don‟t think it‟s something personal. I just think it‟s Laura: something legal. Viviana: something (muffled voice). Laura: Personally, when I‟m made a citizen, if I celebrate, I won‟t be celebrating, “Oh, because I‟m American now!” I‟ll be celebrating, “I don‟t have to worry about random Viviana: deportation. Laura: random deportation because I ran a stop light.” After laws like Arizona‟s SB 1070 and Georgia‟s decision to grant local police the authority to question certain suspects about their immigration status, naturalization for Viviana and Laura appear to be a matter of protection against the abuse of Latina/o immigrants‟ rights. They very much recognize that their path to legal and official membership in the United States is facilitates their ability to travel freely, and, I would hope, without coming under undue suspicion for simply being Latina. However, Viviana later suggested that even if she became a U.S. citizen

114 and got a U.S. passport, she would still be treated differently because people would see her as different. Thus, Viviana recognizes that legal membership does not necessarily confer cultural belonging or shield against the possibility of having one‟s rights abused, particularly as a racialized minority. Gabriela understood that legal citizenship was something that would facilitate travel across national borders. However, even though she had become a naturalized U.S. citizen, Gabriela still questioned the ease with which she and her family would be able to travel. More specifically, she questioned whether or not her family would cease to be harassed upon re-entry into the United States. Gabriela explained to me that the difference between being a U.S. resident and a U.S. citizen is that the former is not recognized by the government while the latter is. She said, “But when you‟re a citizen, the government sees you more like, „Yeah, you‟re part of us. We accept you now.‟” I asked Gabriela if there is something the government does that conveys it accepts people who become citizens. She responded: I think I got the idea just because the way the airport, like when I come here from other places. First, we weren‟t residents and they were like really bad with it. Like, every time you would go through the airport, they would put you in a room for like 6 hours, annoy you, and try to like not let you in and stuff like that. And when you‟re a resident, it gets a little easier, but I don‟t know. I just feel like I‟m not looked [at] as good. Like, when I come through here, the officers in like the airport, they don‟t look at me good. They look at me like, they give me a bad look as if…I don‟t know. (sighs) I haven‟t experienced it because I haven‟t been to an airport with my American passport. But, I think when you like go through the American line, they‟re like, “Okay. Welcome home. You live here. You‟re from here. We love you. Just go by,” you know? Gabriela clearly recognizes that the government not only defines who can and cannot travel, but that it also defines how a person can travel. In other words, she knows that certain people are allowed to travel more freely than others, and that her family is positioned in the group whose travel is restricted. Furthermore, similar to Viviana, Gabriela points out the gap between legal citizenship and cultural citizenship. While she appears to hope that having a U.S. passport will protect her and family from extensive questioning in the airport, she is obviously uncertain if that protection will be guaranteed. Nevertheless, Gabriela recognizes that it is only

115 through formal membership that she and her family even have the possibility of evading interrogation at the airport. Other participants also talked about traveling and the airport in relation to citizenship. Emma, who is second generation, expresses the importance of how rights are linked to formal membership in a nation-state. When I asked her what came to mind when I said “citizenship,” she said, “Free to go anywhere, the airport. I think of traveling, of flying and going to different countries and cities and everything.” Emma is positioned somewhat differently than Gabriela because she is a U.S. born citizen. Thus, she may have never personally experienced unreasonable questioning at the airport. However, many of Emma‟s family members still live in Colombia, which suggests that she recognizes the interrogation that Latinas/os can be subjected to when coming to the United States, or the difficulty her family members experience when trying to get travel visas to the United States. While many of the girls highlighted the gap between what citizenship could presumably guarantee and what was actually put into effect, they were not without their critiques. Dissenting Citizenship The girls engaged in making themselves into citizens through a form of citizenship that Maira (2009) calls dissenting citizenship. According to Maira, the practice of dissenting citizenship is “an engagement with the nation-state that is based on a critique of its politics, and not automatically or always in compliance with state policies” (2009, p. 201). While Maira calls attention to state policies, my participants‟ dissent was also driven by the negative impact the media and social groups had on them and their communities. For the Latina youths in this study, the construction of “Latina/o immigrants” was implicitly cast in opposition to the construction of “American citizens.” Laura, Viviana, Emma, and Anastasia Diana all critiqued the scapegoating of Latina/o immigrants as contributing to United States poor economy and crime. When I asked where they thought people learned to blame Latinas/os, they pointed to sources including the news media, parents, and a Eurocentric curriculum. Laura and Viviana were very vocal in expressing their dissent. The following quote shows the girls‟ recognition of how Latinas/os are constructed through the media: Jennifer: Where do you think that people, American people, learn to think that about immigration?

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Laura: The news. (said without hesitation) Like, in the news, South Florida news is completely different from like national news. Like you watch South Florida news and mostly they have something to say about Hispanics. It‟s either like they rob a bank, I don‟t know. Like, they rob a bank or they‟re like a normal person. Or, it‟s to emphasize how this is Hispanic person has done something good in this society. But really, I don‟t think the local government really specifies if something is wrong by Hispanics, it‟s just done by a person. It‟s just done by the same, they would say the same thing if it were done by a White person. But like in national news, the Viviana: They say like, “It was a Hispanic person.” Or, “It was like a Black guy.” It‟s like, “Really? What‟s the basis of that?” Laura: And then, it‟s, when they talk about immigration and stuff like that, they automatically go to how it‟s affecting the country negatively. They think how there‟s immigrants that aren‟t paying taxes, how there‟s people that are living off the going to school that people pay taxes for. Viviana: They never like, they never focus on the positive outcomes. Laura: They never think of the positive impacts how like a lot of the top 500 companies are owned and are like run by Hispanic leaders. According to Laura and Viviana, many people learn about immigration through the news, and that news stories draw upon particular discourses of race, class, and immigration to construct and position Latinas/os in the United States. While the girls briefly mention the possibility of the news to offer an alternative and positive construction of Latinas/os, they primarily highlight how dominant responses to Latina/o immigration by the national U.S. media position Latinas/os as outside of the U.S. imaginary. Further, Laura and Viviana went on to explain how the national news focuses on issues of immigration in relation to the economy rather than issues related to the war in Afghanistan. They expressed frustration that the tuition Latinas/os pay to attend universities in the United States and the positive impact that Latinas/os have on the U.S. after graduation receives little, if any, press in the national news, particularly in relation to the economy. Their experiences as Latina youths are linked to their construction of their identities and citizenship in the United States, for they and their communities are targeted by the news media specifically for being Latina/o. Thus, their critique of the U.S. media involves a resistance

117 to the stereotype of Latinas/os as “illegal” or “criminal citizens,” which both understand to be connected to the economy. Akin to Laura and Viviana, Emma offered critiques of the scapegoating of Latinas/os. When sharing her thoughts on immigration, Emma described a discussion that was held in her sociology class. She explained that some of her classmates thought immigration was “unfair,” stating that immigrants come into the United States illegally and take jobs that Americans deserve. Emma told me that she thought it was “unfair and harsh” that her classmates made these kinds of statements because “it was not immigrants‟ fault.” She said, “I don‟t think they‟re [immigrants] doing anything bad. They‟re just trying, like, they want their family to progress and everything. And they want a better future for their family.” Emma thinks her classmates learn this “from their parents because they don‟t have jobs or they‟re getting angry about things.” As mentioned in Chapter 3, more than 40% of the residents in Palmetto City and more than 40% of the students at PCHS are Latina/o. This does not, however, mean that people, younger or older, in Palmetto City necessarily hold progressive political views, or that they don‟t harbor anti-Latina/o sentiments. As a matter of fact, I learned from one of the PCHS teachers who had lived in Palmetto City for more than 20 years that a neighborhood in Palmetto City, Savanna, had been nicknamed “Little Havana” after the capital of Cuba. This particular teacher also told me that White/European American families began moving out of the neighborhood when Latina/o families began moving in, and that many White/European American families looking to relocate to Palmetto City choose not to live in Savanna. This suggests that while my participants were disciplined by the media, and U.S. visas, residency, and citizenship requirements, they were also disciplined by social groups who, as Emma explains, “get angry” by the ways their neighborhoods were being changed and transformed. Thus, for Emma, dissenting citizenship appears to mean standing apart from and critiquing some of her peers and their families. Her comments capture the ways in which the United States and Palmetto City are places that immigrants invest with the desire for economic advancement and security, and the hopes for their children‟s educational opportunities. Emma‟s comments also demonstrate a critique of how some of her peers and their families understanding of “American” is racialized and shaped by formal, legal membership in the United States. Like Laura and Viviana, Emma recognizes that the construction of immigrants is tied to the economy,

118 but her dissent engages the role and responsibility of families in the question of national belonging and rights. Anastasia Diana concurred with Emma, Laura, and Viviana that Latinas/os were blamed for crime and poor national economy. However, rather than challenge the role of the media or families, Anastasia Diana challenged the school‟s Eurocentric curriculum by focusing on how her U.S. history class failed to acknowledge its relations with Mexico in becoming a country. Anastasia Diana stated, “Like, the two [United States and Mexico] collide together, but they didn‟t talk about that. I feel like he [the teacher] could have expanded some things.” Later in the interview when I asked her where she thought people learned about immigrants, she described a conversation in her history class: Jennifer: What do you think other people think when they hear “immigrant?” Anastasia Diana: People that run over the borders. They just run over the borders. (laughs) Jennifer: Where do you think that people learn to think that about “immigrant?” Anastasia Diana: Immigrant would be history itself, I think, for immigrant. Immigrants, I believe, because in history they always talk about the other country, the other people crossing the border illegally and how it makes such a big effect on, you know, a lot of cities and states. A lot of populations developed on immigrants, you know. Jennifer: Okay. Anastasia Diana: In history class they said, “Why do you think in Florida there‟s so many crime rates?” And so many students raised their hands, and they were like, “Oh, because of the immigrants.” And I was like, “What‟s that supposed to mean? What the hell?” And they were like, “Anastasia Diana, are you an immigrant?” And I was like, “No, but still.” And then the teacher was like, “Well, Anastasia Diana, what do you think?” And I was like, “Personally, I think it‟s the city itself. In Florida, to be exact, it‟s the money, the economic reasons. Because we have such high, rich areas that the

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more money you have, the more drugs you buy. Just because you‟re an immigrant, think about it…if you‟re rich, you can buy drugs. If you‟re an immigrant, you have no money. You can‟t buy drugs. So, you have to steal drugs, which people don‟t really do because they know because they know they‟ll get sent back.” (laughs) Through her use of and emphasis on the word “other” to describe the country and people “crossing the border illegally,” Anastasia Diana suggests that there is a particular framing of the Mexican American War that does not focus on the White/European American invasion and colonization of indigenous peoples, including Mexicans, and what is now called Texas, New Mexico, and California. She seems to imply that as a result of this framing, Latinas/os are positioned throughout history as perpetual immigrants, or “illegal border crossers,” vis-à-vis the United States, and that there is an erasure of how the United States and Mexico “collide together” in ways that contributed to the “development” of the United States. Anastasia Diana‟s dissent draws upon an alternative narrative of U.S. history that does not position Latinas/os in diametric opposition to Americans. Put another way, Anastasia Diana points out how the curriculum in her U.S. history course draws upon discourses which construct Latinas/os as “foreigners” and “immigrants,” tending towards violence and criminal behavior. Anzaldúa (1987/2007) explains that it was White/European American, not Mexicans, who crossed the border. Thus, Anastasia Diana‟s dissent is an attempt to invert the racist and classist logic of White/European American invaders that is embedded in the U.S. history curriculum and offer an alternative history for reconfiguring the positioning both Latinas/os and White/European Americans. This section addressed the third of this study‟s four themes. It described the ways that my participants talked back on citizenship as universally available. More specifically, I explained how the girls practiced two forms of cultural citizenship – flexible citizenship and dissenting citizenship. Flexible citizenship was a family, friend, and economic strategy for the girls that also had emotional and cultural dimensions. It provided them with ways to negotiate multiple national affiliations and feelings of belonging (Maira, 2009). However, the girls recognized that access to flexibility was also tied to the role of the state (Ong, 1999). Dissenting citizenship was a strategy for the girls to engage the role of the state, institutions (e.g. school), and social groups (e.g.

120 families) and their responsibilities in terms of issues around equality, exclusions, rights, and justice. Through practice of dissenting citizenship, my participants demonstrated recognition of the racialized limits of legal forms of belonging. Talking Back on Being “Latina:” Contesting and Complying with Gendered, Racialized, and Sexualized Imageries and an Essential Identity This section presents the fourth and final theme of this study. While the previous section explored how my participants exerted their agency in what it means to be an “American citizen,” this section describes how my participants exerted their agency in what it means to be “Latina.” I examine my participants‟ practices and strategies of making themselves into “Latina” subjects in relation to hypersexualized images (e.g. the chonga), discourses and images on “immigrant,” and discourses which essentialize them. Like the previous section, I frame my analysis through hooks (1989) notion of “talking back,” which refers to strategies and gestures of the marginalized that resist objectification. Again, in the processes of talking back, or subject-making, some of the participants reproduced stereotypes and hierarchies. Contesting and Complying with Gendered, Racialized, and Sexualized Imageries Many of my participants used education as a strategy to resist being constructed as hypersexualized through dominant U.S. discourses and images on Latinas. For instance, when I asked Lucia how she thought students at school perceived adolescent Latinas, she responded, “There‟s the perspective or the stereotype that Latina girls might be, I don‟t know, like a little slutty or just barely dumb. That they‟re the typical going to grow up to be housewives, like they‟re not, they have no knowledge.” Lucia suggests that the hypersexualized images of Latina youths construct and position them as ineducable girls (Bettie, 2003; Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Dietrich, 1999). However, Lucia consistently chose words such as “motivated” and “dedicated” to describe herself as a student and to describe her educational goals. Furthermore, she disowned dominant hypersexualized notions of Latina in favor of a strong racialized identity. The following excerpt explains: Jennifer: When I say “Latina,” what do you think? Lucia: Um, I think a lot of things. I think, in general, just powerful woman. I don‟t know why I associate it with that…I just associate it with an influential, powerful, individual.

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Jennifer: Okay. And how does that make you feel? The perceptions that some people in the United States have of Latinas. How does that make you feel? Lucia: I think it makes me feel like it needs to be changed. Yeah, so that‟s mainly why I am the way I am, like, motivated in school. Like, I want to uphold a good stereotype or change the current one. I previously explained how some of my participants (e.g. Scarlett, Viviana, and Laura) rejected a “Latina” identity because of its racializing, classed, and sexualizing implications; however, Lucia chooses to identify very strongly with “Latina.” By drawing upon education, or her motivation in school, Lucia demonstrates how she recognizes the racialized and hypersexualized gaze of the dominant culture and seeks to create a different image about Latinas – one that will allow her to maintain an identity that carves out a counter-hegemonic way of being “Latina.” Anastasia Diana also used education as a strategy to resist being constructed as hypersexualized. She described one of her middle-school experiences when she lived in California: One thing I will never do is let statistics tell me what I can and cannot do. Like, because of my life that I‟ve explained to you, I was in, without knowing it, I was in the percentile, they [the school] were doing a t-chart. I was supposed to be pregnant by 16 years old because of where I came from and how my life was, and what kind of life I grew up in. I wasn‟t supposed to finish high school. And it irks me. Like, ignorance is kind of my annoyance. Similar to Lucia, Anastasia Diana recognizes that the sexualization of adolescent Latinas positions them as ineducable or unable to complete high school (Bettie, 2003; Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Dietrich, 1999). Yet, when Anastasia Diana spoke about barriers to adolescent Latinas becoming educated persons, she did not mention, for example, uncontrollable sexuality and its incompatibility with education nor did she implicate of “where she came from” and “how her life was” in encouraging a girl to behave in an overly sexual way. Rather, she spoke more about material conditions such as resources at a school, competent teachers, and socioeconomic factors that can impede a person‟s educational attainment. For instance, when describing the differences between PCHS and her school in California, Anastasia Diana explained that at PCHS the teachers were more “efficient” and that they had more “computers in their rooms or like

122 technology or like powerpoint.” As previously explained, Anastasia Diana, who described herself as being from “the ghetto,” was ambiguously positioned within neoliberal promises of hard work and productivity and the celebration of progress and pulling oneself up by the bootstraps. Her strategy of talking back to the hypersexualization of Latina youths, particularly in school, required an understanding of the racialized and classed nature of education and a resistance to engage on these grounds. Laura and Viviana also talked back on the dominant discourses and images that construct Latina youths as hypersexual. For instance, Laura describes the following conversation in her AP American history class: Laura: In my class, like in my history class, there‟s also discussion about the cultural thing and teenager‟s behavior. Jennifer: AP American? Laura: Yes. We got into the topic because of some journal. We got into cultural behavior depending on, for teenagers, depending on your cultural and stuff. Jennifer: Interesting. Laura: And there‟s this one kid, Michael Berman (pseudonym), Viviana: Oh, of course it was him! Laura: (laughs) Yeah! He‟s like this really White kid that has been very like, “Oh my god! I‟m the best!” since like elementary school. Viviana: He was in my fifth grade class. Laura: He‟s one of those people that thinks he‟s super smart and everything. And I remember he would, he said something like, “You can‟t say it isn‟t true that the Hispanic crowd is always the one that‟s causing problems.” I also don‟t get why he says this when the majority of the class is freaking Hispanic….Everybody was like, “What are you talking about?” Everybody was not screaming, but umm…He just said that you have notice it‟s mostly Hispanic crowds. We brought up issues, not issues, but problems that had been caused in the school and community recently with drunk driving and stuff like that. There hasn‟t been one of the Hispanic kids causing any of the problems. It‟s just been like, this year, there was

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one or two drunk crashes. They were both White kids. So, we were like it doesn‟t mean that White kids are the only ones that get into problems, like we‟re just trying to apply that it‟s not just Hispanic kids. Even with the pregnancy issue, Viviana: Oh my god! Laura: I haven‟t seen a pregnant girl in school. Viviana: I have. Two and neither of them is Hispanic. Laura: I think one of them is White and Viviana: One of them is White and the other one is Black. Laura: one of them is Black. Yet, but then there‟s still that mentality that the Hispanic girls are the sluts, that Hispanic girls will do anything for something. In this excerpt, Laura and Viviana counter the images of Hispanic youths generally and Hispanic girls specifically as more “deviant” and “sexually aggressive” than other youths by describing the behavior of White and Black youths. In contrast to the links that Laura‟s teacher and Laura and Viviana‟s peers seem to make between adolescent Latinas/os culture, their identities, and their behavior, the girls express that sexualized representations through the bodies of (pregnant) Latina teenagers is not necessarily an attribute of and unique to Latina/o culture. This strategy of talking back suggests that Laura and Viviana recognize how race is embedded in perceptions of cultural differences (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Bettie, 2003; Chavez, 2008; Olsen, 1997). However, it is important to point out that the intersections of gender, race, and class shaped how the girls talked back. As I mentioned previously, some of the girls resisted a Latina identity because of its associations with the chonga figure, which is often described in South Florida as a low-class, sexually promiscuous, vulgar young woman of Latin American heritage (Hernandez, 2008). Thus, in the process of resisting their hypersexualization through, for example, the image of the chonga, some of the girls were complicit in reproducing the very same discourses and images they sought to resist. That is, they would mobilize race and class hierarchies in order to counter their own hypersexualization. While the girls may have suggested that hypersexuality (i.e. being “slutty”) was not exclusive to Latina youths, they did not challenge the label of the chonga or the disciplining of girls‟ bodies, behavior, and dress.

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Another example of how some of the participants talked back is the stories they told about their childhoods in their countries of birth. I explained in the first theme of this study how the girls were made into American citizens through discourses on neoliberalism, and that Carolina appeared to readily take up her positioning as a “worthy immigrant.” Yet, she also appeared to recognize her positioning outside of the White/European American national community. An example of this recognition would be the pride she displayed in her Colombian cultural background and the differences she pointed out between Colombian values and American values when explaining her Who I Am collage (see Figure 4). Carolina‟s collage was made up of a combination of images and words. In the upper left hand corner, she wrote “Colombia” in yellow, blue, and red while in the center she drew a map of Florida with a star indicating “Miami.” Carolina included two photos on her collage. To the left of the map of Florida, she pasted a picture of herself as a little girl at the beach. To the right of the map of Florida, she pasted another picture of herself as a little girl riding a horse. In the bottom center, she used alphabet stickers to spell out her name. However, I removed her name to maintain her confidentiality. She put stickers of flowers in the bottom left hand corner and glued artificial flowers around the map of Florida.

Figure 4, Carolina‟s Who I Am Collage

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Carolina explained her collage as follows: Okay, first of all, I have Colombia written here in the colors of the flag because I feel that even though, you know, I didn‟t live there for a while. I came to live here in the United States since I was 6, but it really does make up who I am. You know, my entire culture, who I am, like every little detail, it has to do with that I‟m Colombian. I wrote my name on the bottom, my entire name. It‟s Carolina del Mar. If you translate it, it‟s Carolina from the Sea. It‟s also like culture-wise, my name is not very, very common in Colombia.33 But it‟s like used in Colombia. I just thought of little things, like for example with my name, my favorite place in the whole-wide world is the beach. It really is! Except that in Colombia where I used to live, there wasn‟t a beach. We had to fly to an island to go to a beach…Let me see what else. I put some of my childhood pictures because they‟re my childhood in Colombia. It‟s a lot about nature. It‟s like my life, what I got used on the weekends. It‟s like going to a farm, going to some kind of farm. Like, somebody in our family owned a farm and they had horses or pigs. I have a lot of pictures of my grandparents riding a horse and I used to own little pigs and everything. I put a picture right there of me riding a horse with my grandpa…You know, Colombia, it makes me, it makes my culture, it makes the things that I like to do…You know, I like how my life is now. I‟ve been shaping my life now that I‟m older, but a lot of it had to do with the foundation and my foundation is definitely what I lived over there. While some of the girls mentioned their childhoods in California, Venezuela, or Colombia, Carolina is the sole participant whose collage focused overwhelmingly on her past. She mentioned Florida only to explain that Colombia provided the foundation for her present life, and not to describe the activities she currently enjoys doing. Additionally, aspirations for her future were completely absent from both her collage and her narration of the collage. This absence is interesting considering Carolina‟s very lofty academic and professional goals. I explained in her portrait that her goals were to attend Harvard University, study business, and become a CEO who was also a philanthropist. I also mentioned that Carolina‟s role model was

33 I found this comment quite interesting, if not somewhat amusing, given that Carolina‟s real first name is an extremely popular girl‟s name in Colombia as well as in many other Latin American countries.

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Bill Gates. Thus, what insights can be gleaned from her narration of her collage, a narration that is shot through with images and memories of her childhood in Colombia? Perhaps Carolina draws upon these images as part of a larger conversation of transcultural symbols that tie life in the United States to life in Colombia. That the images tie life in the United States to Colombia as the foundation is key. It seems that Carolina‟s statements and images about her childhood are a way of talking back to dominant discourses about assimilation and the cultural superiority of the United States. In one of her interviews, Carolina was very emphatic that she wanted her children to speak Spanish and have Colombian values rather than American values. She also expressed great dismay that her younger cousins, who were 4 and 5 years old and born in Florida, were “very misbehaved and disrespectful.” She explained, “They don‟t even say „hi‟ and „bye.‟ In Colombia, we expect that. We expect that politeness – the „hi,‟ „bye,‟ „thank you,‟ „yes,‟ „please,‟ „I want this,‟ and things like that. So, it‟s very different when I see my little cousins.” Carolina‟s strategy of talking back is to point directly to the difference between her family‟s Colombian values and those of the United States. In other words, the images in her collage and her narration appear to be a performance of Colombian culture that is superior to U.S. culture. Contesting and Complying with Essential Identity As I previously explained, some of the girls‟ made claims regarding the significance of an “authentic” Latina identity in their narratives. More specifically, I demonstrated how it is difficult to disentangle the politics of claiming an identity from the locality which produces specific discourses about what it means to be “Latina.” For Anastasia Diana and Emma, their identities took on added significance in the context of Palmetto City, South Florida, where many adolescent Latinas are first-generation and/or of South American heritage. As a brief reminder to the reader, Anastasia Diana was third-generation and of mixed heritage (Mexican, Nicaraguan, Salvadorian, Sequoian, and Aztec) while Emma was the second-generation daughter of two Colombian immigrants. Both girls moved to South Florida from California. Anastasia Diana in particular critiqued the idea of an essential Latina identity. She recognized that articulating a Latina identity through hegemonic discourses and exclusionary practices was a detrimental political project. Her Who I Am collage (see Figure 5) is a poignant example of talking back on an “authentic” Latina identity.

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Anastasia Diana‟s chose to color the background of the collage in colors that included blue, red, yellow, orange, green, purple, and brown. In the top middle of the collage, there are magazine pictures of red lipstick. Just below these pictures in the center of the collage, is a magazine picture of Kim Kardashian with the letters “z”, “x”, and “y” pasted above. Various stickers such as starts, hearts, crowns, bells, and arrows decorate the collage. On the left hand side from top to bottom, Anastasia Diana spelled out “L-I-F-E” and on the right hand side she spelled out “D-E-A-T-H.” Immediately to the left of the word “D-E-A-T-H,” she pasted differently colored artificial flowers. Immediately to the right of the word “L-I-F-E,” she used glitter glue to draw wavy lines in red, silver, blue, green, and gold. Anastasia Diana explained that these wavy lines are a river. While there is certainly much to be deduced from her collage, my interest is specifically in how Anastasia Diana narrates the differently colored wavy lines.

Figure 5, Anastasia Diana‟s Who I Am Collage

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The following is an excerpt from my conversation with Anastasia Diana about her collage: Jennifer: And (pointing to the river on Anastasia Diana‟s collage) Anastasia Diana: Oh! I didn‟t start that!! Jennifer: That was my next question. That was my next question. Anastasia Diana: (laughing very hard) This, umm, this is actually used to describe the many different personalities of me and the many different cultures I come from. Because no matter what you can say, you can‟t have, this is a river. Jennifer: Okay. Anastasia Diana: Half the river can‟t be over and half the river can‟t be over here. It‟s impossible because then that means the whole river is right here in the middle. It, that, it makes, it creates me. These certain things, these certain personalities, these certain cultures that I come from, I am one. Like, that‟s who I am. Period. Point blank. I can‟t be like, “Well, I don‟t like that. So, I‟m going to take that person out of me. You can‟t do that because if you take that one water out of the other water, it‟s not part of the river anymore. So. Jennifer: Now, are the different colors supposed to represent the different like cultures and the different Anastasia Diana: Yeah, like, it‟s just like, different. Jennifer: Okay. Anastasia Diana: The one thing is, umm, people always try to ask you, “Okay. Well, how are you different? Why are you different?” You know? Jennifer: (laughing) Like me!! Anastasia Diana: Oh, no! (laughs) Not like that! But like more of like in depth of like, “You‟re Hispanic, okay.” And, I‟m different Hispanic. So, it‟s like, “Okay, well why are you a different Hispanic?” “Sir, I don‟t know! My father came from a certain origin, my mother came from, and just, you know?”

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Anastasia Diana raises a discourse of an authentic Latina identity and deconstructs it. She uses an image of a river to describe her various cultural heritages. Her narration of the river acknowledges and asserts how her cultural heritages are salient to the ways she makes sense of her identity. This suggests that Anastasia Diana has not internalized hegemonic discourses about what it means to be Latina in Palmetto City. I explained earlier that in Palmetto City being Latina meant that a girl was born in Latin America and that Spanish was her first language. Further, the question “Why are you different?” suggests that Anastasia Diana recognizes the problematic relationship of belonging to a Latina community in South Florida, and that she is attempting to tell a different story about what it means to be Latina – a story that enables her to maintain her identity and disrupt the basis on which she is excluded. Conclusion This chapter presented the ethnographic themes that emerged from the girls‟ interviews and collages. I made four points in this chapter. First, one of the ways that my participants were made in “American citizens” was through discourses of neoliberalism. My participants learned about neoliberal discourses of “American citizen” at various sites, including school, family, friends, and the media. This suggests that neoliberalism was a regulatory discourse that enmeshed various social actors and numerous sites/locations. Although not in uniform ways, discourses of neoliberalism provided my participants with lessons in the gendered, racial, cultural, and economic structuring of American citizenship by crafting the girls as “worthy citizens.” One of the problems created by neoliberalism is that the image of Latina youths must conform to a binary that may not represent their lived experiences. In other words, the “worthy” and “unworthy” representations of citizenship have larger implications for Latina youths. These representations circulate through the mainstream such as the news media and position Latinas as either “illegal immigrants” in need of deportation or as “self-sufficient, tax paying, hardworking” individuals who can join the American citizenry. The Latina youth as an “illegal immigrant” or “self-sufficient, tax paying, hardworking” individual becomes part of the larger national debates and discourses on Latina/o immigration and Latina/o education. Thus, Latina youths who wish to be worthy of U.S. citizenship must subject herself to being-made within a neoliberal framework. Second, in discussing how my participants were made into “Latina” subjects, I focused on hegemonic images and discourses that circulated in dominant U.S. society and in the PCHS Latina youth community. Within dominant U.S. society, I utilized the images of the chonga and

130 immigrant to describe how my participants were positioned by discourses on Latina sexuality and discourses on immigrant/ion. Generally speaking, my participants negotiated the tensions between the virginal/whore binary, the two dominant competing discourses on Latina sexuality, by constituting themselves as “respectable.” However, in the subjectifying processes which made them into “good” Latina subjects, my participants reinforced hierarchies of race/ethnicity and class within Latina/o communities (Hernandez, 2008). Additionally, racist nationalist discourses were also reproduced in one participant‟s understanding of “immigrant” and “citizen.” Within the PCHS Latina youth community, discourses of an essential Latina identity constrained and disciplined the two participants who were born in the United States, limiting their agency to speak as “real” Latinas. Third, my participants exerted their agency, or engaged in self-making practices, by talking back on American citizenship as universally available through two forms of cultural citizenship – flexible citizenship and dissenting citizenship. Practices of flexible citizenship demonstrated that some of the participants‟ cultural and emotional attachments spanned national borders, and that they were trying to negotiate the racialized, legal, and economic boundaries that distinguished them from “American citizens.” Yet, the paradox of flexible citizenship is that while transnational ties may have been possible, the girls were aware of how their mobility within and beyond the United States was circumscribed by state documents (i.e. legal membership in the United States) and racialized perceptions of national belonging. Dissenting citizenship opened up the possibility for the girls to critique issues about the U.S. economy and Latina/o immigration. Refusing the construction of Latinas/os as “criminals” or “illegal,” the girls engaged the news media, families, and Eurocentric school curriculum to disrupt these positionings. Fourth, my participants used various strategies to exert their agency and talk back, or engage in self-making practices, to images of the chonga and immigrant as well as notions of an essential Latina identity. Their strategies of making themselves into Latina youths included: (i) using education to counter their hypersexualization by dominant U.S. society; (ii) crafting alternative self-identification processes; and (iii) resisting hegemonic notions of belonging by displaying pride in their gender, racial, and cultural socialization within their families and countries of birth. Collectively, these strategies demonstrate how the girls recognize the vulnerabilities they encounter when defining their identities in the United States, and attempt to

131 make themselves into “Latina” subjects in ways that maintain their identities while allowing them to resist their positionings as “Others.” These findings are further discussed in the next and final chapter.

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CHAPTER 5 CONCLUSION Introduction The purpose of this study was to examine the discursive and material conditions of possibility for middle-class Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations. More specifically, the goals of this study were threefold: (i) to examine how middle-class Latina youths in South Florida were made into “citizens” and “Latinas;” (ii) to examine the how middle-class Latina youths in South Florida engaged in self-making practices of “citizens” and “Latinas;” and, (iii) to explore the theoretical, methodological, and educational implications of this study‟s findings. My participants‟ lives were certainly shaped in complicated ways by issues related to gender and sexuality in the media and popular culture. However, their lived experiences were also informed by social, cultural, political, and economic issues related to citizenship. This chapter concludes this dissertation. It is organized into four sections. In the first section, I briefly explore the broader social and economic conditions that shaped my participants and their families‟ migrations to Florida. As I mentioned in Chapter 3, the purpose of this section is to help the reader contextualize on a macro level how Latina youths negotiate their sense of identity and belonging. In the second section, I discuss the limitations of this study. I describe under- and un-analyzed themes as well as directions for future research. In the third section, I explore the theoretical, methodological, and educational implications of this study‟s research questions and findings. While these implications may be intersecting, I separate the three for heuristic purpose to ensure that I address each directly. The fourth section concludes this chapter and dissertation. Broader Social and Economic Conditions of Immigration This section offers a broad overview of the social and economic conditions which shape Latin American migration to the United States generally and Florida specifically. It begins by describing the unique combination of forces that shaped Cuban migration to the United States starting in 1959. It then briefly explains the Immigration Act of 1965, which opened up migration from Latin America to the United States. Finally, it explores the current diversity of the Latina/o population in South Florida, highlighting the importance of recognizing both the similar and different reasons for Latina/o migration and the heterogeneity within the Latina/o population.

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Although there is a long history of Cuban migration to the United States, the bulk of the United States‟ current Cuban population has its origins in the revolutionary process that was initiated in 1959 (Pérez, 2001; Pew Hispanic Center, 2006; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006). At the core of that process was the rise of Fidel Castro and the transformation of Cuba to a country with a centrally planned government, no private industry, and the establishment of close ties with the Soviet Union. This transformation resulted in a political, economic, and ideological conflict that, while most intense during the early 1960s, has lasted through current day. In this conflict, with its pending possibility of an international Cold War confrontation, the United States and certain sectors of the Cuban population, mainly the Cuban elites, have shared an interest in overthrowing the Cuban government. The most visible manifestation of this conflict and the most viable way that the United States and Cuban elites have cooperated have been the four waves of Cuban immigration to the U.S. (Pérez, 2001; Pew Hispanic Center, 2006; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006). The first wave Cuban immigration from 1959 to 1962 was primarily an exodus of upper- and upper-middle class families in professional and managerial occupations. The United States government facilitated their entry into the country by not imposing restrictions that were imposed on other nationality groups, and by assisting with their economic adjustment (Pérez, 2001; Pew Hispanic Center, 2006). The second wave of Cuban migration was from 1964 to 1973. This was the largest of all waves that brought nearly 265,000 Cubans to the United States. In what is commonly called the “freedom flights,” this wave was carefully administered by the Cuban and U.S. governments and brought mostly middle- and working-class Cubans to the U.S. (Pérez, 2001; Pew Hispanic Center, 2006). The third wave of immigration, or the “Mariel boatlift,” took place in the 1980s when pressure to emigrate caused the Cuban government to open the Mariel port for unrestricted migration. This wave of Cuban immigration was distinct from the two previous waves in that it was extremely chaotic, and that it brought, for the first time, common criminal, mental health patient, poor, and non-white members from Cuban society to the United States (Pérez, 2001; Pew Hispanic Center, 2006; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006). The fourth wave began with the fall of Communism in 1989 and continues until present day. This wave includes basleros, or rafters, who float to Florida on rafts and dinghies. Because of the 1994 “rafter crisis” during which 37,000 Cubans were rescued by the U.S. Coast Guard in one month, the fourth wave also includes beneficiaries of a visa lottery system that Cuba and the United States agreed to implement (Pérez, 2001; Pew Hispanic Center, 2006).

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U.S. policy has generally been more welcoming and encouraging of migration from Cuba than other Latin American countries. As mentioned in Chapter 2, the United States‟ Immigration Act of 1924 established national quotas on the numbers of immigrants that were allowed into the country (Chavez, 2008; Ngai, 2004; Rong & Priessle, 2009). Because this act limited the number of immigrants from each country to 2% of the number of people from that country who were already living in the U.S., it created serious restrictions on immigration from Latin America, Asia, and Africa (Rong & Priessle, 2009; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006). However, the Immigration Act of 1965 eliminated the national origins quota system and permitted entry into the United States primarily on the basis of family reunification and occupational characteristics (Ngai, 2004; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006; Rong & Priessle, 2009). As a result, the 1965 act dramatically increased immigration from non-European countries, including those in Latin America. Florida, along with California, Texas, Illinois, and New York, has historically been a U.S. state with one of the highest populations of Latinas/os (Portes & Rumbaut, 2006; Rong & Priessle, 2009). According to the Pew Hispanic Center (2006), more than 68% of the Cuban population in the United States, which is estimated at 1.5 million, lives in Florida. Amongst the Cubans in Florida, 70% were born in Cuba and 26% came to the U.S. after 1990. A majority of Cubans settled in the South Florida area (i.e. Dade and Broward Counties). While it is undeniable there is large population of Cubans in Florida who migrated for political reasons, it is myth to think that Cubans are the only Latinas/os in the state, and that Cold War politics are the sole reason for migration. Chapter 1 notes that South Florida has the highest population of both Cubans and Colombians (Portes & Rumbaut, 2006). More specifically, 32% of Colombians who reside in the United States live in South Florida (Pew Hispanic Center, 2011). Unlike Cubans who were put on the path the U.S. citizenship (Pérez, 2001; Pew Hispanic Center, 2006; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006), less than half of Colombians are U.S. citizens (Pew Hispanic Center, 2011). Furthermore, 61% of Colombian immigrants migrated to the United States after 1990 mainly due to economic instability in Colombia (Pew Hispanic Center, 2011; Portes & Rumbaut, 2006). And finally, Colombians, like Cubans, tend to have higher levels of education when compared to the Latina/o population overall. It is estimated that 30% of Colombian immigrants over the age of 25 have at least a bachelor‟s degree (Pew Hispanic Center, 2011). The Venezuelan population in the United States has also grown since 2000. Since the 1998 election of Hugo Chávez and often controversial political, economic, and social reforms he

135 began to institute, the number of Venezuelan immigrants, many of whom are middle- or upper- class, migrating to the U.S. has increased by roughly 94% (Semple, 2008; Shumow, 2010). Venezuelans are now the fastest growing Latina/o population in the United States with about 34% of Venezuelan immigrants settling in either Broward or Dade County, Florida (Semple, 2008; Shumow, 2010). Venezuelans, similar to Cubans, tend to migrate for political reasons and, similar to Colombians, for economic reasons. Also similar to both Cubans and Colombians, Venezuelan immigrants in South Florida tend to be well educated: 32% have bachelor degrees and 17% have a graduate degree (ACS, 2006; Shumow, 2010). And finally, less than half of Venezuelans are U.S. citizens (ACS, 2006). My intention in highlighting the similarities and differences amongst the Cuban, Colombian, and Venezuelan populations in South Florida is to call attention to the politics of immigration, citizenship, and education. The experiences of my participants should neither be viewed outside of the context of their and/or their parents‟ migrations nor outside of the context of South Florida. For many Latina youths in South Florida, the migration process and the dynamics of living in a region of the United States with, for the purposes of this study, significant Colombian and Venezuelan populations must be a point of consideration in any attempt to understand the conditions of their citizenship and identity formations. Forming a sense of belonging and identity for Latina youths in South Florida may be quite different from their parents, from non-Latina girls, from Latina youths who do not live South Florida, and amongst each other. Thus, it is important that educators recognize the diversity within the Latina youth population, particularly given that multiculturalism is a pervasive discourse on cultural belonging in U.S. public schools. Limitations This project‟s limitations, like the project itself, are partial and situated. My intention in this section is not to offer a list of limitations that, if addressed, would somehow make this project “a view from everywhere” (Haraway, 1988). Put another way, if I were to address the limitations I describe in this section, this project would still remain partial and situated rather than more complete. Haraway (1988) explains that all knowledge, which includes my own knowledge about this study‟s limitations, is partial and situated. I addressed the challenges recruiting participants across various national backgrounds as a limitation to this study in

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Chapter 3. In what follows, I address additional limitations of this study, paying particular attention to the collection and analysis of my data. This study uses artifacts and interviews to construct a narrative about the question of middle-class Latina youths national belonging and exclusion. This study lacks insights that may have been gleaned from participant observations, particularly observations of the girls‟ classes and/or after-school clubs in which they were members. Additionally, although I asked the girls about their experiences in school, I did not interview the girls‟ teachers, administrators, or club sponsors, nor did I analyze any curriculum documents that were connected with the girls‟ coursework or after-school clubs. Generally speaking, schools confirm the social, political, and cultural order of the nation-state by regulating how students are prepared to take their places as future adults (Aapola et al., 2005; Apple & Franklin, 2004; Maira, 2009; Olsen, 1997; Ong, 2006; Valenzuela, 1999; Williams et al., 2002). Thus, schools are important sites for teaching young people daily lessons in formal and informal ways of participating in democratic citizenship. The conditions of participation can be taught through formal school curricula (e.g. civic education, social studies, literature, and etc.) and through informal school processes and activities (e.g. cultural celebrations and symbols, field trips, sports events, and etc.). Furthermore, students‟ conversations with each other, teachers, administrators, and school staff members communicate ideas about citizenship, multiculturalism, and social justice, particularly as social justice relates to gendered, racialized, and sexualized minority rights (Bettie, 2003; Maira, 2009; Olsen, 1997; Valenzuela, 1999; Williams et al., 2002). My point is that future research on this topic would benefit from school-based observations, interviews, and document analysis to allow for a more complex understanding of national belonging and exclusion for middle-class Latina youths. Additionally, future research might benefit by drawing upon a comparative approach that investigates the lived experiences of girls across different racial/ethnic and class backgrounds, or girls who attend schools in different contexts (urban, rural, suburban, Midwestern, Northeastern, and etc.). The intersections of, for example, gender, race/ethnicity, class, sexuality, national origin, and immigrant generation indicate that girls‟ relationship to citizenship is not the same. At least four broad categories emerged from the data that remain under-analyzed or un- analyzed. These four categories include the following: (i) how the specific, local context of Palmetto City provided my participants with an understanding of what it meant to be in the

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United States (Maira, 2009; Yon, 2000); (ii) sexuality and religion in the crafting of citizenship and identities; (iii) many of the participants‟ problematic relationship to feminism; and, (iv) the role of school clubs in questions of national belonging. These categories require further analysis, which is something I plan to attend to in the future. Implications There are no simple explanations for what it means to be a “citizen” or what it means to be “Latina.” There are also no simple explanations for the various implications of this study. Yet, I return to my research questions and findings by addressing their theoretical, methodological, and educational implications. As I explained in Chapter 3, my intention is to move from the interpretive to the practical by exploring what scholars and practitioners in the field of education, especially those who are pursuing research with Latina youths, can take from this study. The implications I offer, however, are not intended to be prescriptive or a “one-size-fits-all” approach. They are instead offered as points of consideration to help scholars and practitioners begin thinking about what it might mean to take up a feminist transnational framework to analyze Latina youths citizenship and identity formations. Theoretical Implications There are certain strengths and limitations with using a feminist transnational theoretical framework to investigate the lived experiences of Latina youths living in a U.S. context. First, this theory helps to create a broader and more complex understanding of how Latina youths experience certain motivations, desires, and struggles to make themselves into particular kinds of subjects. While Latina youths may share similar obstacles (e.g. racism and hypersexualization) as other minoritized populations (e.g. Black/African American, Asian American), a feminist transnational framework opens up spaces to explore how these obstacles have been produced and perpetuated through specific historical circumstances (e.g. Mexican-American War, Immigration Act of 192434) and emergent discourses and images (e.g. “hot” Latina, “virginal” Latina, “immigrant,” “illegal alien,” and etc.) in the construction of who and what is “Latina.” Yet, the purpose of this study was not to homogenize a population of adolescent girls; rather, the purpose

34 I explained in Chapter 2 that the Immigration Act of 1924 established a national origins quota system which created major restrictions in the flow of immigrants from Asia, Africa, Latin America, and Southern and Eastern Europe to the United States. I also explained that one result of this Act was the construction of the Mexican immigrant as an “illegal alien” who attempted to unlawfully cross the U.S. / Mexico border.

138 was to draw attention to similar and different ways that a heterogeneous group of Latina youths is positioned by and negotiates particular discourses. Second, many Latina youths appear to inhabit unbounded or in-between places. Meaning, they are not, for instance, Colombians, Venezuelans, Latinas and/or Hispanics in Colombia or Venezuela; rather, they are Colombians, Venezuelans, Latinas, and/or Hispanics in the United States. Therefore, Latinas are neither “authentic” Colombians or Venezuelans (or Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, and etc.) nor “authentic” U.S. citizens. This unbounded on in-between place produces a unique perspective for making visible the roles of the state and various social groups that shape Latina youths‟ everyday lives in ways that can be limiting and constraining. It also helps to create a more complicated understanding of Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations in a location where they simultaneously experience being-made and making themselves into certain kinds of subjects (Ong, 1996). A focus on Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations in unbounded or in-between places is quite timely in relation to the increasingly transnational and global contexts of young peoples‟ identity formations and negotiations (Dolby & Cornbleth,2001; Yon, 2000). A feminist transnational perspective invites us to think about how categories, like citizenship and identity, are not necessarily, always, and/or only linked to geographically bounded territories or spaces. Rather, a feminist transnational framework pushes us to confront how “common sense” categories (e.g. citizenship and identity) can shift and change when they are constituted across space (Dolby & Cornbleth, 2001; Khagram & Levitt, 2008; Yon, 2000). Third, a feminist transnational perspective opens up spaces that enable critiques of citizenship and dialogue concerning progressive social transformation. Many of the Latina youths in my study explicitly and implicitly challenge the assumption that American national and cultural belonging should necessarily be equated with Whiteness, middle “class-ness,” and the English language. As I attempted to demonstrate, my participants‟ critiques of citizenship as universally available holds the hope of an America and its citizenry that have, thus far, yet to live up to their democratic promises and possibilities. This allows scholars and practitioners to explore the contradictions in liberal discourses on citizenship, democracy, and multiculturalism. By making visible how Latina youths can feel marginalized both in and out of school, a feminist transnational framework helps to illuminate the conceptualizations of citizenship, democracy, and multiculturalism that mask and leave intact historical and racial inequalities (Aparacio, 1994;

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Lowe, 1996). In other words, a feminist transnational framework makes visible how dominant discourses on citizenship, democracy, and multiculturalism as they circulate throughout various institutions (e.g. school, media, etc.) and social groups (e.g. peer groups, educators, families, etc.) further consolidate White power and privilege. Having briefly explored three possibilities with using a feminist transnational framework to explore the lived experiences of Latina youths, some concerns arise about its limitations. Feminist transnationalism is potentially an “ivory tower” theory that can perpetuate rather than revision numerous divides. First, the arguable inaccessibility of much feminist transnational scholarship risks perpetuating the academy as an authoritative site of knowledge production. Generally speaking, feminist transnational scholars produce research that they hope will be used to directly and/or indirectly improve the lives of the people about whom they theorize and study. Yet often times, feminist transnational scholarship is arguably presented in theoretical language that appears divested of the bodies and lived realities it explores. This raises concerns, particularly in relation to communities outside of the academy, about the political commitments of feminist transnational projects. Second, while numerous feminist transnational scholars are Latina, Asian, and Southeast Asian (e.g. Alarcón et al., 1999; Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Guzmán & Valdivia, 2004; Hong, 2006; Kim-Puri, 2005; Lowe, 1996; Mohanty, 2003; Ong, 1996; 1999; 2006; Rodrίguez, 2009; Villenas, 2009), most are U.S. based with strong ties to U.S. academies. As Briggs and colleagues (2008) underscore, sturdy ties to U.S. universities, as well as the publication and funding structures that flow from them, suggests that feminist transnational scholarship is potentially another “imperial vantage point” (p. 644). That is, feminist transnational scholarship is fraught with the possibility of reproducing asymmetrical relations of power between First World/Third World knowledge production. And finally, given that much feminist transnational scholarship is connected with U.S. universities, and given that English is the authoritative language of (U.S.) knowledge production, questions arise about the role of feminist transnational scholarship and its use of a colonial language to assimilate scholars who are non-“native” English speakers into an academic community. Methodological Implications Methodology and theory have an intimate relationship. To utilize a feminist transnational theoretical framework to explore the citizenship and identity formations amongst Latina youths, I needed a methodology that would help me move beyond binaries such as citizen/immigrant and

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“home” country/ new country. To empirically map transnational phenomena, I needed new kinds of observations and new kinds of methods for collecting these observations (Dolby & Cornbleth; 2001; Khagram & Levitt, 2008). That is, I needed an approach to research that would enable me to analyze, explain, and interpret Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations in novel ways. In conducting this study, I needed to take into consideration methodological shifts by utilizing a feminist transnational framework. First, this study required a focus on citizenship and identity formations that crossed or superseded national geographical borders. Many conventional data sets and ethnographies equate citizenship and identity with boundaries of particular nation- states; therefore, researchers often view citizenship and identity formations across nation-states as “out of the ordinary” (Anzaldúa, 1987/2007; Dolby & Cornbleth, 2001; Khargram & Levitt, 2008; Maira, 2009; Manalansan, 2003; Olsen, 1997; Yon, 2000). This means that I had to remove the blinders of what Khagram and Levitt (2008) call “methodological nationalism” in order perceive that while nation-states are still formative in the lives of Latina youths, their citizenship and identity formation are not necessarily confined to one geographically bounded territory. Second, I had to consider how the research design itself would allow me to investigate Latina youths‟ lived experiences through a feminist transnational framework. For instance, when writing the interview questions as well as listening to the girls‟ response, I had to be attentive to how the cross-border aspects of their citizenship and identity formations were connected to single and multiple locations. This forced me to begin my own efforts at rethinking how citizenship has conventionally rested on the idea of discrete and separate nations. I also had to attend to how their interview responses and collages highlighted specific historical and current contexts and discourses that produced the positions from which they spoke as “Latinas,” as well as how they negotiated these positionings. However, there are methodological limitations to the current study that should be taken into consideration regarding future analyses. Feminist transnational scholarship conventionally requires that data be collected and analyzed on multiple layers (e.g. the units and scopes of analyses) (Alarcon et al., 1999; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Khargram & Levitt, 2008; Kim-Puri, 2005; Stoler, 2006). While I designed interview questions (see Appendices H, I, and J) and the Who I Am collage (see Appendix K) to explore the various cross-border aspects of my

141 participants‟ citizenship and identities, future research would ideally be multi-sited and directly explore, for instance, experiences in the “home” and new country. Furthermore, future research might expand upon the current study by investigating how the conditions of Latinas citizenship and identity formations change over time. The current study provides a one-time “snap shot,” or what is more conventionally called a cross-sectional analysis; however, transnational processes are neither singular, bounded events nor static and fixed. Studying the conditions of Latina youths‟ citizenship and identity formations over time, or longitudinally, might reveal how the conditions are constructed and transformed, as well as the different and perhaps contradictory ways the girls are discursively situated as “citizens” and “Latinas.” Educational Implications As mentioned previously, my intention is to move from the interpretive to the practical; however, my goal is not to propose prescriptive recommendations to educators and administrators working with Latina youths. Instead, my intention is to offer a few remarks for schools and policymakers to consider when addressing the particular findings of my study and the needs of Latina youths. I recognize that these remarks can be interpreted in unintended ways or that they can be implemented in ways that have unintended consequences. I do not, however, think that a better alternative to these potential unintended interpretations and consequences is to say nothing. Rather, I briefly explore how my findings might open up and limit possibilities in the education of Latina youths. First, the privileges and benefits of U.S. citizenship are many, including the right to vote and travel, as well as protection under the U.S. constitution. However, findings of this study reveal that conferment these legal benefits is often times circumscribed by, for instance, gendered, racialized, and classed boundaries. Therefore, a neoliberal discourse on U.S. citizenship that provides attention to gender, sexual, class, racial/ethnic, and linguistic equalities as a product of individual effort and determination, and that neglects to explore the political differences in students‟ histories as well as how gender, sexuality, race/ethnicity, class, and language are institutionalized in and exist outside of legal U.S. citizenship, is an inadequate discourse for schools to take up in both formal and informal curricula. Also inadequate is citizenship education that remains nation-centered without offering an analysis of young people‟s citizenship and identity formations as transnational processes. Im/migration has been, and continues to be, a phenomenon that is related to nation-state building projects. I am not

142 trying to suggest that schools are sole problems or the panacea for the United States‟ historical and current inequalities; however, given the critical role of schools in the socialization of young people, they remain an important site for socially just change. Schools could prepare students with a progressive citizenship education curriculum which would include an examination of the historical and present conditions of U.S. citizenship. Necessary to any kind of socially just change in schools is the opportunity for young people to articulate an understanding of citizenship inequalities in structural and not just individual terms (Bettie, 2003; Maira, 2009; Olsen, 1997). This curriculum should also provide students with a discourse on citizenship that might produce subjects who see themselves as belonging to national and transnational communities. The notions of cultural citizenship, especially flexible citizenship, practiced by the Latina youths in this study underscore how citizenship can be constructed in relation to multiple places and through various social and cultural networks that supersede national borders. It is the school‟s obligation “to prepare the national citizens for both the traditional domestic community and continuously galvanized transnational community” (Knight-Abowitz & Harnish, 2006, p. 676). And finally, I am concerned with how the findings on my participants‟ resistance to the “chonga” stereotype may be used by schools and policymakers. I mentioned in Chapter 2 that stereotypical images are often used to inform education and educational reform for Latina youths living the United States (Bettie, 2003; Dietrich, 1999; Garcia, 2009; Rolón-Dow, 2004), and that these images are often grounded in colonial relations of power. My analysis on how middle-class Latina youths resist the “chonga” image does not suggest that girls who are chongas are, in fact, like the negative representations that circulate about them. Stressing middle-class Latinas‟ resistance to this particular image dangerously risks suggesting that chongas should be ashamed of being lower-class and sexual, and that they should view themselves with a sense of disgrace and embarrassment. In other words, stressing my participants‟ resistance to the “chonga” image reproduces rather than contests raicialized and classed hierarchies. I would ask that schools and policymakers engage the question of who potentially becomes excluded when images of middle- class Latina youths specifically are used to address educational issues as they pertain to adolescent Latinas generally. Latina youths have been historically characterized as hypersexual by dominant U.S. society. However, what lessons might lower- and working-class Latina youths

143 learn when schools and policymakers use images of middle-class Latinas to produce “good” and “orderly” girls who are also current and future citizens? Conclusion The findings of this study contribute to emergent scholarship on citizenship within the fields of educational research and girlhood studies. They challenge traditional definitions of formal membership in a nation-state and push against traditional boundaries of belonging, identity, and agency, particularly for racialized girls. The current, anti-immigrant moment highlights how some of the notions of citizenship and identity developed by the Latina youths in this study are constructed in relation to the state, various institutions, and social groups that can, at times, span national borders. A focus on cultural citizenship enables an analysis of the conditions which shape Latina youths‟ relationship with the state and inform their everyday lived experiences. For the Latina youths in this study, it appears that they experience being “Latina” in relation to a range of contexts, including popular culture, the news media, school, and peer groups. This dissertation is a very small step in showing that the construction of “Latina-ness” as it is embodied by eight, middle-class Latina youths is shaped by each girl‟s particular relation with the United States, her “home” country, and various social groups. Belonging, or the idea that a citizen‟s rights are universal and derived from the nation- state, is the most conventional understanding of citizenship. Yet, the practices of citizenship which emerged from this study – flexible citizenship and dissenting citizenship – complicate traditional notions of formal membership and add new layers to the critique that citizenship in the United States has largely been White/European-American assimilationist identity. The girls‟ practices of cultural citizenship through transnational ties to Latin America and through critiques of Latinas/as‟ rights, both U.S. citizen and immigrant, complicates the citizen/immigrant binary. Their critiques also demonstrate how the girls struggle against the role of the state, various institutions, and social groups to make them into particular kinds of subjects. In part because Latina youths are the largest group of minority girls in the United States and because research on girls and formal citizenship is only beginning to explore how racialized girls‟ live and imagine themselves in relation to one or multiple nation-states, it is important for educators to begin asking how conceptions of citizenship are communicated in schools to Latina youths and whether or not these conceptions assume a limited definition of what it means to be a citizen.

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APPENDIX A: IRB Application

PI Last Name: Bondy Title of Project: Latina youths talk back on “citizenship” and being “Latina:” A feminist transnational cultural studies analysis

Provide the information on the following issues in non-technical language. Refer to the detailed guidance document for issues to consider for each topic. Leading questions are not all-inclusive; you must provide a description of your project sufficient for the reviewers to weigh the risks, benefits, and human protection provisions of your project. Refer to attachments (e.g. consent form and recruitment letters) in the descriptions.

If you believe a question is not applicable in your situation, enter N/A.

1. Purpose of Research:

Provide a description of the nature, objectives, purpose and significance of the proposed research:

This project proposes to examine the social, cultural, legal, and economic conditions of possibility for Latina teens‟ identity and citizenship formations in South Florida (U.S.A.). Using open-ended and semi-structured interviews, documents, and textual productions to collect data, the objectives of this proposed study include: (i) explore how Latina teens understand “citizenship” and what it means to be “Latina”; (ii) explore where their understandings of “Latina” and “citizenship” develop (e.g. school, family, popular culture, print and visual media, government texts on immigration, census data, and etc.); and, (iii) examine how Latina teens comply with, negotiate, and resist the messages about gender, sexuality, race, class, nation, and citizenship that are structured into their everyday experiences.

The purpose of this research is to explore the lived experiences of Latina teens in order to raise new and important questions about the meanings of “Latina,” “nation,” “immigrant,” and “citizenship.” In academic literature, news and media coverage, government policies on immigration, and popular culture, Latinas are often portrayed in terms of deficiency and pathology (e.g. “illegal” immigrants, “hoodlums,” high school dropouts, sexually promiscuous, lazy, and etc.) (Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Dietrich, 1999; Garcίa & Torres, 2009; Miranda, 2003; Molinary, 2007). Such portrayals constrain and limit Latina youths‟ lives. Thus, it is important to reframe this portrayal by examining how Latina teens are positioned and how they comply with, negotiate, and resist such positioning. The significance of this proposed research lies in pointing out and changing the various social, cultural, legal, and economic conditions that shape social relations, hierarchies, and conflicts, and that limit and constrain Latina youths‟ lives and identity formation.

How will the resulting information contribute to the existing knowledge base?

Texas, California, Illinois, New York, and Florida are the five U.S. states with the highest populations of Latina/os, both U.S. and foreign born (Denner & Guzmán, 2006). Much of the

145 qualitative research on Latina teens explores the experiences of poor and/or working-class Mexican (American), Puerto Rican (American), and Dominican (American) girls who live in urban areas such as Houston, TX (Mayer, 2003; Valenzuela, 1999); Fruitvale, CA (Gallegos- Castillo, 2006; Miranda, 2003); Los Angeles, CA (Hyams, 2003; Olsen, 1997); San Diego, CA (Dietrich, 1999); Chicago, IL (Garcίa, 2009; Williams, Alvarez, & Andrade Hauck, 2002); New York, NY (Ayala, 2006; Lopez, 2003; Rolón-Dow, 2005); or, in rural areas such as Central Valley, CA (Bettie, 2003). We know less about the experiences of middle-class Latina teens, as well as the experiences of Latina teens that live in Florida, a state where most Latina/os are of South American, Cuban, and Puerto Rican descent (Broward County, 2005; Denner & Guzmán, 2006). As a matter of fact, Latina/os comprise a large portion of the population under age eighteen in South Florida: 54% in Dade County (M-DCPS, 2010) and 26% in Broward County (BCPS, 2010). The need to address the diversity within the Latina population is imperative, in part, because Latina youths make up 20% of the female population between 10 and 19 years of age (U.S. Census Bureau, 2006), making Latinas the largest group of “minority” girls in the United States (Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Ginorio & Huston, 2001). While these populations are rapidly growing, there is a lack of empirical data to guide services, education, and advocacy campaigns for Latina youths in ways that do not objectify them and/or position them as “at-risk.” To focus this research on Latina youths in South Florida is to highlight the diversity within the Latina youth population, add voices from a region that is currently understudied and underrepresented, and provide a more complex and nuanced account of Latina youths‟ lived experiences.

How will the resulting information be disseminated?

The resulting information from the study will be disseminated through a dissertation, a peer reviewed journal article, and a national conference presentation.

References

Ayala, J. (2006). Confianza, consejos, and contradictions: Gender and sexuality lessons between Latina adolescent daughters and mothers. In J. Denner & B.L. Guzmán (Eds.) Latína gírls: Voices of adolescent strength in the United States (pp. 29-43). New York, NY: New York University Press.

Bettie, J. (2003). Women without class: Girls, race, and identity. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Broward County. (2005). Celebrating diversity in Broward County. Retrieved on July 18, 2010 from http://www.broward.org/Pages/Welcome.aspx.

Broward County Public Schools. (2010). District Overview. Retrieved on July 18, 2010 from http://www.browardschools.com/about/overview.htm.

Denner, J., Guzmán, B.L. (Eds.) (2006). Latína gírls: Voices of adolescent strength in the United States. New York, NY: New York University Press.

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Dietrich, L. (1999). Chicana adolescents: Bitches, „ho‟s, and schoolgirls. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishing.

Gallegos-Castillo, A. (2006). La casa: Negotiating family cultural practices in constructing identities. In J. Denner & B.L. Guzmán (Eds.) Latína gírls: Voices of adolescent strength in the United States (pp. 44-58). New York, NY: New York University Press.

García, L. (2009). “Now why do you want to know about that?”: Heteronormativity, sexism, and racism in the sexual (mis)education of Latina youth. Gender & Society, 23 (4), 520-541.

García, L. & Torres, L. (2009). Introduction: New directions in Latina sexualities studies. NWSA, 21 (3), vii-xvi.

Ginorio, A., & Huston, M. (2001). Sí, se puede! Yes, we can: Latinas in school. Washington, D.C.: American Association of University Women Educational Foundation.

Hyams, M. (2003). Adolescent Latina bodyspaces: Making homegirls, homebodies, and homespaces. Antipode, 35 (3). 536-558.

Lopez, N. (2003). Hopeful girls, troubled boys: Race and gender disparity in urban education. New York, NY: Routledge.

Mayer, V. (2003). Living telenovelas/telenovelizing life: Mexican-American girls‟ identities and transnational telenovelas. Journal of Communication, 53 (3), 479-495.

Miami Dade County Public Schools. (2010). M-DCPS demographics. Retrieved on July 18, 2010 from http://grants.dadeschools.net/pdf/grantwritingassistance/demographics.pdf.

Miranda, M.K. (2003). Homegirls in the public sphere. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press.

Molinary, R. (2007). Hijas Americanas: Beauty, body image, and growing up Latina. Emeryville, CA: Seal Press.

Olsen, L. (1997). Made in America: Immigrant students in our public schools. New York, NY: The New Press.

Rolón-Dow, R. (2005). Critical care: A color(ful) analysis of care narratives in the school experiences of Puerto Rican girls. American Educational Research Journal, 42 (1), 77- 111.

U.S. Census Bureau. (2006). Population estimates. Retrieved on July 31, 2008 from http://www.census.gov/popest/ estimates.php.

Valenzuela, A. (1999) Subtractive schooling: U.S. Mexican youths and the politics of caring. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.

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Williams, L.S., Alvarez, S.D., & Andrade Hauck, K.S. (2002). My name is not María: Young Latinas seeking home in the heartland. Social Problems, 49 (4), 563-584.

2. Subject Population Description:

The subject population is teenage girls who live in a large, urban county in South Florida. The girls are between the ages of 15 and 18 years old. All of the girls are Latina, either bilingual (e.g. Spanish/English, Portuguese/English, Creole French/English, and etc.) or English-speaking dominant, and come from middle-class, single and two parent households.

3. Research Procedures/Methods. Provide a description of each activity, discuss human subjects protections issues, and refer to attached materials (consent forms, surveys, recruitment scripts etc.):

A. Recruitment and Selection of Subjects:

As a former Broward County public high school teacher (1999-2000; 2002-2006) and intern assistant principal (2005-2006), the principal investigator has established and maintained a relationship with educational and community leaders throughout the South Florida area. The research participants will be recruited through “snowball” sampling, in which participants invite others in their social network to participate (Creswell, 2007; Miner-Rubino, Jayaratne, & Konik; 2007). Using a recruitment email (see appended), the principal investigator will make contact with educational and community leaders, who will be asked to suggest one or two girls who might be willing to participate, and who fit the subject population description. The principal investigator will respond to any queries that the educational and community leaders have and provide additional information that they request. The principal investigator will then contact all Latina teens who express interest and meet separately with them and their parents/guardians, giving them a recruitment letter (see appended). The principal investigator will invite the girls to participate and ask them to suggest other likely participants who also match the subject population description. The principal investigator will address any questions that the girls and their parents/guardians have and provide additional information that they request. She will also stress the voluntary nature of the girls‟ participation and that they can withdraw from the study and decline to complete any sessions at any time without penalty.

Because the principal investigator is using “snowball” sampling, she expects the participants will be friends. The principal investigator hopes to have 4 to 6 research participants. Because strong and trusting personal and professional relationships are in place between the principal investigator and educational/community leaders, she expects response to be high.

Once 4 to 6 interested participants have been identified, the principal investigator will again meet separately with each Latina teen and her parents/guardians. The principal investigator will give each girl and her parents/guardians consent and assent letters (see appended) and invite the Latina teens to participate. The principal investigator will also address any questions that the girls and their parents/guardians have and provide additional information that they request. The principal investigator will again stress the voluntary nature of the girls‟ participation and that they can withdraw from the study and decline to complete any sessions at any time without

148 penalty. All Latina teens who meet the subject population description and who return signed consent and assent forms will be invited to participate.

B. Research Location(s):

Where will research take place? How will you obtain permission to utilize that location?

The research location is Broward County, Florida. Broward is a large, urban, diverse, multi- ethnic county. Latina/os currently represent more than 17% of Broward County‟s population, with African-Americans and Black Caribbeans collectively representing 21% of the population (Broward County, 2005).

Interviews will be conducted in either the participant‟s home or at a location of their choosing. Permission to interview in the home will be obtained from the research participants and their parents/guardians in the consent and assent letters (see appended).

C. Consent/Assent Process Description (attach forms/scripts as appendices and refer to them) :

Provide a general description of the process for obtaining consent/assent of the subjects or their representatives:

The principal investigator will meet with each of the Latina teens and their parents/guardians separately. Two consent letters will be given to the parents/guardians – one form will be signed and returned; the second form will remain with the parent/guardian. The parental/guardian consent letter (see appended) includes the following: the purpose of the study; its expected duration; the procedures involved; permission to interview in the home; an explanation of the risks, potential benefits, and how confidentiality will be maintained; information about the study‟s voluntary nature and that the girls may withdraw at any time; and, contact information for the principal investigator, her faculty advisor, and the Office for the Advancement of Research and Scholarship at Miami University.

Because research participants will be between 15 and 18 years old, assent of the girls will be obtained through a written assent form (see appended) that includes the same information as the parent/guardian consent form. Each Latina teen will also be given two assent letters - one form will be signed and returned; the second form will remain with each girl. The principal investigator will address any questions that the Latina teens and parents/guardians have and provide additional information that they request. The principal investigator will also stress that participation is voluntary, and that the girls can withdraw and decline to complete any sessions at any time and without penalty.

How will you ensure that the voluntary nature of participation is apparent to subjects?

As stated, the voluntary nature of this study will be stressed at both the recruitment and consent/assent meetings. The voluntary nature of this study will be highlighted on all the recruitment, consent, and assent forms. At every opportunity, the voluntary nature of this study

149 will be addressed by asking the research participants whether they would like continue participating. Additionally, the girls will be reminded that they may refuse to respond to interview questions, turn off the audio-recorder at any time, decline to complete the collage, and that their information will not be shared.

How will you implement a system whereby a subject can withdraw from the research aspects of the study without concern about being penalized?

This research study will not be organized through schools or community organizations and, thus, will not be tied to adolescent Latinas classroom grades or ability to participate in community organization activities. The principal investigator will remind the girls of this at every interaction with them. The girls will be asked if they would like to participate in each section of the research or withdraw.

References

Broward County. (2005). Celebrating diversity in Broward County. Retrieved on July 18, 2010 from http://www.broward.org/Pages/Welcome.aspx.

Creswell, J.W. (2007). Qualitative inquiry and research design: Choosing among five approaches. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.

Miner-Rubino, K., Jayaratne, T.E., & Konik, J. (2007). Using survey research as a quantitative method for feminist social change. In S.N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.) Handbook of Feminist Research: Theory and Praxis (pp. 199-222). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.

D. Describe the nature and timing of the research activities (e.g. after granting consent, subjects will complete a pre-treatment test/survey/interview, participate in an activity (be specific), and complete a post-treatment test/survey/interview). Attach surveys, interview questions etc. as appendices. Details regarding subject protections are entered below.

At the beginning of the study, the principal investigator will visit the Latina girls and their families at their homes or at a location of their choosing. The principal investigator will introduce herself and state that the purpose of her study is to explore the experiences of Latina teens and how they understand the meaning of “citizenship” and “Latina.” The principal investigator will give the parents/guardians and girls the consent and assent letters, and respond to any questions. The principal investigator will also stress the voluntary nature of this study, and that the girls can withdraw and decline to participate in any session of the study at any time without penalty. In order to alleviate any discomfort about participating, the consent and assent letters will be mailed via U.S. mail to the principal investigator. A stamped and addressed envelope will be provided to all families and girls. The principal investigator will allow 7 to 10 days for the families and girls to return the letters.

After all consent and assent forms have been returned, the first individual open-ended interview (see appended) will be conducted during the first week. The duration of this project is expected to be 8 weeks. Prior to the first interview, each girl will be presented with a data sheet (see

150 appended) intended to gather background information that would better contextualize her narrative (Proweller, 1998). The data sheet will take approximately 10 minutes to complete. The purpose of the first interview is to begin establishing trust and rapport with each research participant. Therefore, the first interview will be open-ended to allow for more self-generated narratives (Fontana & Frey, 2000). This interview will last approximately 45 minutes.

The second individual semi-structured interview (see appended) will be conducted during the third week. During this interview, each Latina teen will be given the opportunity to explain and define what “Latina” and “citizenship” mean to her. In order to not lead the participants, a definition of “Latina” and “citizenship” will not be offered. The interview seeks to explore how social, cultural, legal, and economic conditions inform each girl‟s understanding of “Latina” and “citizenship,” and how each girl negotiates these conditions. The second individual interview will last approximately 60 minutes.

At the beginning of the fifth week, the Who I Am collage and accompanying materials (girls‟ magazines, glue, scissors, colored pencils, markers, pens, stickers, glitter, and poster board) will be distributed. The Who I Am collage will present each Latina teen with an opportunity to express herself in images and communicate meanings that she might not be able to articulate in words (Vargas, 2006). The prompt for the collage has been appended to this application. The collage does not need to be a finished, perfect product because it is not being graded. Thus, participants will have one week to create the collage, which will take approximately 2 hours. In order to alleviate any social discomfort, the principal investigator will arrange a time and location to meet with each girl individually at the beginning of the sixth week and pick up her collage.

The third individual semi-structured interview (see appended) will be conducted during the seventh week. This interview will offer each participant an opportunity to clarify and expand upon her Who I Am collage. The third interview will last for approximately 60 minutes.

In order to reduce discomfort, the three individual interviews in this proposed study will be conducted in either the participant‟s house or another location of her preference. The principal investigator will audio-tape and transcribe each interview following the appropriate confidentiality procedures listed below.

The participants will receive no financial compensation for their participation in this research. Each participant will receive a completed copy of the dissertation as well as any publications based on this research.

This is the first time that the principal researcher has conducted such a study. However, she has completed a three qualitative research classes which provide a platform to practice certain qualitative research tools, including those being used in this study. Also, the faculty advisor, Dr. Lisa Weems, has an expertise in qualitative methodology and has conducted several qualitative research studies. Dr. Weems will mentor the principal investigator as she collects and analyzes the data.

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References

Barbour, R.S., & Schostak, J. (2005). Interviewing and focus groups. In B. Somekh & C. Lewin (Eds.) Research methods in the social sciences (pp. 41-48). London: Sage Publications.

Fontana, A. & Frey, J.H. (2000). The interview: From neutral stance to political involvement. In N.K. Denzin & Y.S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (2nd ed.) (pp. 696- 727). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.

Miner-Rubino, K., Jayaratne, T.E., & Konik, J. (2007). Using survey research as a quantitative method for feminist social change. In S.N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.) Handbook of Feminist Research: Theory and Praxis (pp. 199-222). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.

Proweller, A. (1998). Constructing female identities: Meaning making in an upper middle class youth culture. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.

Vargas, L. (2006). Transnational media literacy: Analytic reflections on a program with Latina teens. Hispanic Journal of Behavioral Sciences, 28 (2), 267-285.

E. Procedures for Safeguarding Confidentiality of Information:

Who will have access to confidential data?

The principal investigator and faculty advisor will have access to the confidential data.

For how long will subject identifying information be linked to the data?

Latina teens who participate in this study will be given a pseudonym. The data linking pseudonyms and subject identifying data will remain in a locked file cabinet in the principal investigator‟s home office. There will be only one copy of this information. This will be discarded after the research has been analyzed and written up. In this way, the principal investigator may follow up on pertinent information with the research participants if necessary to clarify or expand their responses.

Where and how will the data be stored?

The interview transcripts, audiotapes, data sheet, and Who I Am collages will be kept in a locked cabinet or password-protected computer in principal investigator‟s home office. The only person with the keys to the principal investigator‟s home office and cabinet will be the principal investigator, and the only people who will have access to this information will be the principal investigator and the faculty advisor working on this study. After five years, the transcripts, audiotapes, and data sheets will be destroyed, and the Who I Am collages will be returned to the participants.

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Project specific data safety (e.g. recording security, protecting identities etc.):

After five years the data will be destroyed or deleted so that the research participants‟ identities remain anonymous and the Who I Am collages will be returned to the participants.

The principal investigator has previously purchased and installed McAfee Total Protection 2010 on the password protected computer in her home office. McAfee Total Protection 2010 includes McAfee anti-spyware, McAfee active virus defense, and McAfee two-way firewall. In order to completely and securely delete the data from her hard drive, the principal investigator will use a data erasing software device.

F. Deception:

Provide Justification for deception:

N/A

Describe debriefing process:

N/A

G. Potential Modifications: If the nature of your research is such that you can anticipate modifications to the procedures, describe in brief the nature and timing of these modification requests that will be submitted to the IRB:

N/A

4. Potential Risks and Discomforts:

Describe nature and likelihood of risks to subjects:

The risks associated with this study are minimal. The principal investigator anticipates no greater harm or discomfort than engaging in everyday activities. Yet, the principal investigator acknowledges that there may be some sensitive topics related to the experiences of Latina teens. Some of the interview questions will be about issues related to gender, sexuality, race, class, nationality, and citizenship. Any sensitive topics that come up in interviews will be consistent with this study‟s objectives and potential benefits as explained below. Additionally, research demonstrates that Latina teenage girls, because they are often silenced and ignored outside of their peer networks, are typically willing and happy to talk about their social lives, experiences, and thoughts when they are the subjects, rather than the objects, of conversation (Bettie, 2003; Denner & Guzmán, 2006; Miranda, 2003).

The principal investigator, who has worked with the Latina youth population both in and out of formal educational contexts, will remain sensitive to and aware of the possibility for discomfort. The principal investigator will try to alleviate such discomfort by not pressuring the girls to

153 participate, answer interview questions, or remain involved in the study, and by keeping a reflexive journal while conducting this research.

Because this study proposes to use snowball sampling, there is a likely chance that the research participants will be friends, and that they will talk about the principal investigator and the project amongst themselves. This could have numerous, and not 100% foreseeable, effects on confidentiality (Barbour & Schostak, 2005; Magolda & Weems, 2002). For example, although pseudonyms will be assigned to but not shared with the participants, their familiarity with each other may enable them to discern who is who in the dissertation. Also, group dynamics may influence individual expression (Barbour & Schostak, 2005; Fontana & Frey, 2000; Miner- Rubino et al., 2007). This suggests that participants may talk amongst themselves and pressure one another to respond or behave in particular ways during the individual interviews. The principal investigator will be observant and responsive by taking these possible factors into consideration throughout the research process.

As stated, the principal investigator is a former South Florida educator and intern assistant principal who has maintained contact with educational and community leaders in the area. Although she will be seeking research participants through these contacts, parents/guardians may have concerns about the principal investigator and her interactions with their daughters. Should concerns, all of which are not completely foreseeable, arise, the principal investigator will respond accordingly: for example, (i) by offering contact information for additional references; (ii) by offering to send a curriculum vita and, if necessary, copies of published and forthcoming articles; and, (iii) by stressing that while her relationship with their daughters may be friendly, she does not intend to be one of their “peers” who spends time with them outside of the purposes of this project and/or without permission and knowledge of the parents/guardians.

Should an identified risk event occur, specifically, what action will be taken to minimize the effect?

Should distress of a social nature occur to/by the Latina youths, it will be addressed immediately by the principal investigator using one or more of the actions/strategies described above. All involved parties will be asked if they would like to continue or withdraw from the study to protect their interests.

References

Barbour, R.S., & Schostak, J. (2005). Interviewing and focus groups. In B. Somekh & C. Lewin (Eds.) Research methods in the social sciences (pp. 41-48). London: Sage Publications.

Bettie, J. (2003). Women without class: Girls, race, and identity. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Denner, J., Guzmán, B.L. (Eds.) (2006). Latína gírls: Voices of adolescent strength in the United States. New York, NY: New York University Press.

Fontana, A. & Frey, J.H. (2000). The interview: From neutral stance to political involvement. In

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N.K. Denzin & Y.S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (2nd ed.) (pp. 696-727). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.

Magolda, P., & Weems, L. (2002). Doing harm: An unintended consequence of qualitative inquiry? Journal of College Student Development, 43 (4), 490-507.

Miner-Rubino, K., Jayaratne, T.E., & Konik, J. (2007). Using survey research as a quantitative method for feminist social change. In S.N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.) Handbook of Feminist Research: Theory and Praxis (p. 199-222). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.

Miranda, M.K. (2003). Homegirls in the public sphere. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press.

5. Potential Benefits:

Are there identifiable benefits for the subjects, if so briefly discuss:

Potential benefits will not directly affect the Latina youths during the course of this study, unless to raise their awareness of (i) various social, cultural, legal and economic conditions that make possible certain kinds of identity and citizenship formations, and (ii) the possibility for future careers in immigration and public policy, education, and girls‟ advocacy.

Describe the benefit to society (e.g. people, academic field, etc.):

The potential benefits of this study include: (i) changes in public and educational policies and services to explicitly include and value the diversity and voices of Latina youths; (ii) changes in the undergraduate and graduate preparation of future educational and community leaders to respond in new and different ways to mainstream conversations and debates on Latina youths, immigration, and citizenship; and, (ii) the reframing of immigration debates that are currently focused solely on legal citizenship.

6. Reproduction Rights

There is the potential that participants‟ textual productions (i.e. Who I Am collage) would be reproduced in a published piece(s) beyond my dissertation. In order to facilitate potential future publication, I will ask in both the parent/guardian and research participant consent and assent forms that participants provide me with complete reproduction rights to their textual productions. In signing the consent, parents/guardians and participants will provide me with permission to edit, publish, and reproduce the textual productions not only in the dissertation but in other publications that are based on the dissertation research (see parent/guardian and research participant consent and assent forms).

Further, if participants choose to use other people in some form of media as part of their textual production, participants will procure from such third party participants a signed media consent and release form (see appended).

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Insert/append additional materials below, these include (X all that apply): _X__ Recruitment Materials (fliers, letters, messages, scripts, etc.) _X__ Consent Form(s) _X__ Assent forms/scripts _X__ Copies of questionnaires _X__ A listing of interview questions ___ Other materials

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APPENDIX B: Recruitment Email to Educational Leaders

Dear (educational/community leader‟s name),

I hope this email finds you well. As you know, I have been studying for my PhD in Educational Leadership at Miami University in Ohio. After three years of coursework, I am now beginning my dissertation research. I am writing to request your assistance.

My hope is to work with Latina youths to understand how they construct their identities and belonging in a U.S. context. I would like to learn more about the resources that inform and influence how Latina youths in South Florida understand “Latina” and “citizenship.”

Do you know one or two Latina teens in Broward County who might be willing to freely volunteer for my research project? Or, do you know anybody who might be able to put me in contact with Latina youths who would be willing to freely volunteer?

I'd like to have a series of conversations with Latina youths and ask them questions about their experiences in school and about living in South Florida. I will also ask them to respond to a prompt by creating a collage. I do not have any intentions of going into a school and observing the girls. I also do not intend to talk with their teachers or administrators. With the parents/guardians and girls‟ consent, I would like to talk with the girls to learn more about their perspectives on their experiences.

This project will be spread over eight weeks. I will ask for about five hours of the girls‟ time over these eight weeks. I would like to invite 4-6 participants who are between the ages of 15 and 18 years; who are bilingual or English-speaking dominant; who self-identify as a girl and as Latina; and, who come from middle-class, single or two parent households.

Although there will be no financial compensation for participating, I will give each of the participants a copy of my dissertation once it is completed. I will also give them copies of any published articles in which their collage appears.

Your decision of whether or not to help me recruit participants will in no way impact our friendship or our professional relationship. Please know that girls‟ participation is completely voluntary, so they are under no obligation to participate. Even if they and their parents/guardians consent to participate, the girls can withdraw from the project at any time without negative consequences.

If you know one or two Latina youths who might be interested in volunteering for this research project, would you please let me know? I can be reached by phone at 513-461-9644, or by email at either [email protected] or [email protected]. I understand that you may first need to speak with the girls and that I will need to get their consent as well as their parents/guardians‟ consent.

Please do not hesitate to let me know if you have any questions of concerns about this project. You can also contact my advisor, Dr. Lisa Weems, at (513)529-6835 or [email protected],

157 and the Office for the Advancement of Research and Scholarship (513)529-3600 or e-mail [email protected].

Many thanks for your time, (educational/community leader‟s name).

Sincerely,

Jennifer M. Bondy

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APPENDIX C: Recruitment Letter to Research Participants

Dear Research Participant,

My name is Jennifer Bondy. I am a former high school teacher from Broward County Public Schools. Currently, I am studying for my PhD in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University (OH). I would like to do a research project with Latina teens to learn how various resources (e.g. news media stories, popular culture, school curriculum, immigration policies, family and friendship networks, and etc.) inform their understanding of “citizenship” and what it means to be “Latina.” My hope is that this project will recognize and validate what many young Latinas are saying and doing in their everyday lives to create positive social change. With this letter, I would like to invite you to participate in my project.

If you agree to participate, this project will last for 8 weeks. There are five things that I will ask you to do in these 8 weeks. First, I will ask you to complete a brief questionnaire on background information, such as your name, age, race/ethnicity, place of birth, hobbies, school attended, and etc. The questionnaire will take about 10 minutes to complete. Second, third, and fourth, I will ask you to participate in three one-on-one conversations which will be audio-taped. These conversations will last somewhere between 45 and 60 minutes. While the first one-on-one conversation is for us to get to know each other, the second and third one-on-one conversations will help me examine the resources that inform how you understand “citizenship” and “Latina.” Fifth, I will give you materials (girls‟ magazines, glue, scissors, colored pencils, markers, pens, stickers, glitter, and poster board) and ask you to create a Who I Am collage. The collage will give you an opportunity to create a story about yourself using magazine cut-outs and other images. The collage will take about 2 hours to complete, but it does not have to be perfect because it is not going to be graded.

The questionnaire and first one-on-one conversation will take place during week 1 of this project; the second one-on-one conversation will take place during week 3; you will be asked to create the collage during week 5; and, the third one-on-one conversation, which will give you an opportunity to explain your collage, will take place during week 7. You and I will have the conversations in either your home or a location of your choosing.

Although there will be no financial compensation for participating in this project, I will provide you with a copy of my dissertation once it is completed. I will also provide you with any published articles in which your collage appears.

I would like for you to know that your participation on this project is completely voluntary. If you choose not to participate, there will be no negative consequences. You may also discontinue your participation in this project at any time without penalty.

If you would like to volunteer for this research project, please let me know. Also, if you know someone whom you think might also be interested in volunteering, please let me know. I would like to have 4-6 participants between the ages of 15 and 18 who self-identify as girls and as Latina. Please know that you are invited to freely participate in this project regardless of whether or not you recommend another Latina youth to participate.

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I can be reached by phone at (513) 461-9644, or by email at either [email protected] or [email protected]. Your participation is 100% voluntary. Should you choose to participate, you can discontinue your participation in this project at any time and without penalty.

Sincerely, Jennifer M. Bondy

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APPENDIX D: Letter of Consent to Parents and/or Guardians

Dear Parents and/or Guardians,

Purposes of the study My name is Jennifer Bondy. I am a former high school teacher from Broward County Public Schools. Currently, I am studying for my PhD in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University (OH). I would like to do a research project with Latina teens to learn how various resources (e.g. news media stories, popular culture, school curriculum, immigration policies, family and friendship networks, and etc.) inform their understanding of “citizenship” and what it means to be “Latina.” My hope is that this project will recognize and validate what many young Latinas are saying and doing in their everyday lives to create positive social change. With this letter, I would like to request your consent for your daughter to participate in my dissertation research.

Research procedures and time commitment In this 8-week project, I would like to use a brief questionnaire, one-on-one conversations, and a Who I Am collage to explore the resources that inform how your daughter understands “citizenship” and what it means to be “Latina.” Benefits to this project include challenging and transforming public policies and services, curriculum in PK-12 schools and higher education, and girls‟ advocacy campaigns that portray “citizenship” and “Latina” in constraining ways. If you grant your permission, your daughter will be invited to complete a brief questionnaire on background information (e.g. name, age, race/ethnicity, place of birth, school attended, and etc.), and participate in three one-on-one conversations. The questionnaire will take approximately 10 minutes to complete. All conversations will be audio-recorded and last approximately 45 to 60 minutes. These conversations will help me examine the resources that inform how your daughter understands “citizenship” and “Latina.” The conversations will aIso help me understand the intellectual and practical strategies your daughter uses to negotiate and resist the constraining messages she encounters about “citizenship” and “Latina.” The collage, which will take approximately 2 hours to complete, will allow her to compose a visual representation of “citizenship” and “Latina.”

The first one-on-one conversation will take place during week 1 of this project; the second one- on-one conversation will take place during week3; your daughter will be asked to create the collage during week 5; and, the third one-on-one conversation will take place during week 7. Your daughter and I will have the conversations in either your home or a location of your daughter‟s choosing.

If your daughter chooses to include other people in her Who I Am collage (e.g. digital pictures, etc.), I will ask that she please have each person complete a Media Consent and Release form (see attached).

Potential risks Please be aware that there are minimal risks associated with this study. Given this project‟s focus, there will be some sensitive topics related to the resources that inform your daughter‟s understanding of “citizenship” and “Latina.” Part of our conversations will be about messages on

161 gender, sexuality, race, class, nation, and citizenship, and how Latina youths negotiate these messages in their everyday lives. However, any sensitive topics that come up in conversation will be consistent with this project‟s goal, which is to contribute to educational and community policies and practices that are grounded in the political and intellectual work that Latina youths do in their daily lives.

Participation Participation in the project is entirely voluntary. Even if you give the permission, your daughter may refuse to answer individual questions on the questionnaire or during any of the conversations. She may also refuse to create the Who I Am collage. Your daughter may discontinue her participation in this project at any time without negative consequences. The choice not to allow participation for your daughter and/or your daughter‟s choice not to participate will not result in penalty.

Confidentiality Your daughter‟s name and her responses will remain confidential. She will be given a pseudonym and her name will not appear anywhere in this research project‟s documents. Nobody will have access to your daughter‟s specific answers except me. All original questionnaires and audio-taped conversations will remain locked in my office, will be used for no other purpose than this study, and will be destroyed after five years. I will also return the Who I Am collage after five years. There is no compensation for participating in any of the activities associated with this project. I will give your daughter a copy of my dissertation once it is complete, as well as copies of any publications in which her collage appears. This consent form is to protect the rights of individual participants.

Contact information If you have any questions about the study, please feel free to call me at (513) 461-9644 or e-mail at [email protected]. I will be happy to answer any questions about the study in greater details. You can also contact my advisor, Dr. Lisa Weems, at (513)529-6835 or [email protected]. If you have any questions about your rights as a research participant, please call the Office for the Advancement of Research and Scholarship (513)529-3600 or e-mail [email protected].

The approval number for this study is _10-049___.

Sincerely,

Jennifer M. Bondy, M.Ed. Doctoral candidate Department of Educational Leadership Miami University Oxford, OH 45056 [email protected]

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“I have read the above statements about the nature, purpose, and intent of this study. I give my permission for my daughter to participate in this study. I have been given a copy of this consent form.”

______Signature of parent or guardian Date

Audio tape release:

I give consent for my daughter to be audio-taped during this study: please initial: _____yes _____no

I give consent for audiotapes resulting from this study to be recorded on paper, and used to identify common issues discussed by my daughter, the participant. please initial: _____yes _____no

Media release:

I give consent for my daughter to create a Who I Am collage: please initial: _____yes _____no

I give consent for the collage to be reproduced, edited, and/or digitized for the purposes of research and publications. please initial: _____yes _____no

I give consent that my daughter‟s collage may be used free and clear of any claims to compensation and ownership please initial: _____yes _____no

I release the project investigator, Jennifer M. Bondy, from any claims or liability regarding any use that may be made of my daughter‟s collage. please initial: _____yes _____no

DAUGHTER‟S NAME AND GRADE: ______

DO NOT COMPLETE THIS SECTION. JENNIFER WILL SIGN BELOW AND RETURN THIS LETTER TO YOU.

“I certify that I have obtained consent from the participant above, whose signature has been signed and dated accordingly. A signed copy of this consent form will be given to the above participant, and I will keep the original copy in my files for three years after the completion of the research project.”

SIGNATURE OF INVESTIGATOR and DATE:______

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APPENDIX E: Letter of Assent to Research Participants

Dear Research Participant,

Purposes of the study My name is Jennifer Bondy. I am a former high school teacher from Broward County Public Schools. Currently, I am studying for my PhD in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University (OH). I would like to do a research project with Latina teens to learn how various resources (e.g. news media stories, popular culture, school curriculum, immigration policies, family and friendship networks, and etc.) inform your understanding of “citizenship” and what it means to be “Latina.” My hope is that this project will recognize and validate what many young Latinas are saying, doing, and resisting in their everyday lives to create positive social change. With this letter, I am inviting you to participate in my project.

Research procedures and time commitment If you agree to participate, this project will last for 8 weeks. There are five things that I will ask you to do in these 8 weeks. First, I will ask you to complete a brief questionnaire on background information, such as your name, age, race/ethnicity, place of birth, school attended, and etc. The questionnaire will take about 10 minutes to complete. Second, third, and fourth, I will ask you to participate in three one-on-one conversations which will be audio-taped. These conversations will last somewhere between 45 and 60 minutes. While the first one-on-one conversation is for us to get to know each other, the second and third one-on-one conversations will help me examine the resources that inform how you understand “citizenship” and “Latina.” Fifth, I will give you materials (girls‟ magazines, glue, scissors, colored pencils, markers, pens, stickers, glitter, and poster board) and ask you to create a Who I Am collage. The collage will give you an opportunity to create a story about yourself using magazine cut-outs and other images. The collage will take about 2 hours to complete, but it does not have to be perfect because it is not going to be graded.

The questionnaire and first one-on-one conversation will take place during week 1 of this project; the second one-on-one conversation will take place during week 3; you will be asked to create the collage during week 5; and, the third one-on-one conversation, which will give you an opportunity to explain your collage, will take place during week 7. You and I will have the conversations in either your home or a location of your choosing.

If you choose to include other people in your Who I Am collage (e.g. digital pictures, etc.), please have each person complete a Media Consent and Release form (see attached).

Potential risks Please be aware that there are minimal risks associated with this study. Given this project‟s focus, there will be some sensitive topics related to the resources that inform your understanding of “citizenship” and “Latina.” Part of our conversations will be about messages on gender, sexuality, race, class, nation, and citizenship, and how you negotiate these messages in your everyday life. However, any sensitive topics that come up in conversation will be consistent with this project‟s goal, which is to contribute to educational and community policies and practices

164 that are grounded in the political and intellectual work that you, as a Latina youth, do in your daily life.

Benefits There are potential benefits to this project. You might find that talking about what it means to be “Latina” and “citizenship” is both very important and really exciting, and that you want study more about this in university. However, most of this project‟s benefits will be in the future. Public policies, school curriculum, and girls‟ advocacy campaigns might be changed so that they will include and value the voices of Latina youths. My hope is that the findings of this study will also help educators re-think the meaning of citizenship in a way that includes the participation of Latina youths and questions how people are excluded based on gender, sexuality, race, class, and nationality.

Participation Your participation in this project is entirely voluntary. You can withdraw from the project, without penalty, at any time. You may also refuse to answer specific questions during any of the conversations and/or turn off the audio-recorder at any time and without penalty. In other words, you can discontinue your participation and decline to participate in any activity of this project at any time without negative consequences. I have also asked your parents or guardians for permission, but even if your parent/guardian gave her/his permission, you do not have to participate in this project.

Confidentiality Your name and your responses will remain confidential. I will give you a pseudonym and your name will not appear anywhere in this research project‟s documents. Nobody will have access to your specific answers except me. All original questionnaires and audio-taped conversations will remain locked in my office, will be used for no other purpose than this study, and will be destroyed after five years. I will also return the Who I Am collage after five years. There is no compensation for participating in any of the activities associated with this project. I will, however, provide you with a copy of my dissertation once it is completed. I will also provide you with a copy of any published article in which your collage appears. This consent form is to protect the rights of individual participants.

Contact information If you have any questions about the study, please feel free to call me at (513) 461-9644 or e-mail at [email protected]. I will be happy to answer any questions about the study in greater details. You can also contact my advisor, Dr. Lisa Weems, at (513)529-6835 or [email protected]. If you have any questions about your rights as a research participant, please call the Office for the Advancement of Research and Scholarship (513)529-3600 or e-mail [email protected].

The approval number for this study is __10-049_.

Sincerely,

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Jennifer M. Bondy, M.Ed. Doctoral candidate Department of Educational Leadership Miami University Oxford, OH 45056 [email protected]

“I have read the above statements and explanation about the nature, purpose, and intent of this study. I voluntarily agree to participate in this study. My parents/guardian gives me permission to participate in this study. I have been given a copy of this consent form.”

______Signature of research participant Date

Audio tape release:

I give consent to be audio-taped during this study: please initial: _____yes _____no

I give consent for audiotapes resulting from this study to be recorded on paper, and used to identify common issues discussed by me, the participant: please initial: _____yes _____no

Media release:

I give consent to create a Who I Am collage. please initial: _____yes _____no

I give consent for the collage to be reproduced, edited, and/or digitized for the purposes of research and publications. please initial: _____yes _____no

I give consent that my collage may be used free and clear of any claims to compensation and ownership. please initial: _____yes _____no

I release the project investigator, Jennifer M. Bondy, from any claims or liability regarding any use that may be made of my daughter‟s collage. please initial: _____yes _____no

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DO NOT COMPLETE THIS SECTION. JENNIFER WILL SIGN BELOW AND RETURN THIS LETTER TO YOU.

“I certify that I have obtained consent from the participant above, whose signature has been signed and dated accordingly. A signed copy of this consent form will be given to the above participant, and I will keep the original copy in my files for three years after the completion of the research project.”

SIGNATURE OF INVESTIGATOR and DATE:______

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APPENDIX F: Media Consent and Release Form

I hereby consent and grant permission for Jennifer M. Bondy to use any images, photographs, or other media in which I appear/participate for her dissertation and any other publications, presentations, broadcasts, etc. related to her dissertation research.

Further, I consent and grant permission for Jennifer M. Bondy to reproduce, edit, distribute, digitize, and transcribe such media, in whole or part, for the purposes of research and publication.

Further, I consent and grant permission that such media may be used free and clear of any claim whatsoever on my part, and I waive any rights of compensation or ownership thereto.

Further, I hereby release Jennifer M. Bondy from any claims or liability regarding any use that may be made of such media.

Further, I agree that I have read and understand the contents hereof, and I have the right and authority to execute this release.

______Printed Name

______Signature Date

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APPENDIX G: Personal Profile Questionnaire (PPQ)

Please fill-in the following information to the best of your ability. For some, you may have more than one response.

Name:

Today‟s date:

Age:

Place of birth:

Number of years in Florida:

Race(s)/Ethnicity(ies):

Nationality(ies):

Language(s) spoken:

Neighborhood you currently reside in:

School:

Grade in school (ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth):

Employment/Profession:

Mother:

Father:

Education:

Mother:

Father:

Place of birth:

Mother:

Father:

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Number of children in family:

Highest level of education completed:

Employment/Profession:

School club membership:

After-school activities/hobbies:

Favorite subject(s) in school:

If you would like, please use this space for any additional information that you would like share.

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APPENDIX H: First Semi-Structured Open-Ended Interview Questions

 How would you describe yourself?  Tell me about your family and your relationship with them. What do you enjoy doing with your family?  Tell me about your friends and your relationship with them. What do you enjoy doing with your friends?  What is it like in the place(s) where you‟ve grown up? (How would you describe your neighborhood?)  What has changed the most in your life over the past year?  Where do you go to school? What‟s school like this year? How is school this year different from last year? How is it the same?  If you could show me your favorite place, where would you take me and what is it like?  Tell me about some of your favorite people in your life – musicians, artists, actresses, writers, politicians, and etc. – who inspire you. How do they inspire you?  Think about a significant experience in your life so far. Describe it to me.  Are there any questions that I should have asked, but didn‟t?  Do you have any questions that you‟d like to ask me?

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APPENDIX I: Second Semi-Structured Open-Ended Interview Questions

(Im)migration  Why did you (and/or your parents) come to the United States? How old were you (they)?  Tell me your (family‟s) immigration story.  Did school in (insert country of birth) prepare you for coming to the United States? How?  Do you know if the government in (insert country of birth) encourages people to move to the United States? How?

Education  How would you describe your experiences in school in South Florida? How is school in South Florida different from school in (insert country of birth)?  What do you think about the teaching practices, curriculum, and policies at your school? Do you feel as though you, and Latina youth in particular, are represented in the school‟s teaching practices, curriculum, and policies? If so, in what ways? If not, then why?  How do you think students, teachers, and administrators in your school view Latina youth? Where do you think they learn their opinions about Latina youth? Do you agree or disagree? How does this make you feel?

Life in the United States/Ties to country of birth  Is life better here than in (insert participant/parent country of birth)? Why or why not?  Do you and your family maintain any (insert participant/parent country of birth) traditions/customs at home? Describe these traditions/customs.  What language(s) do you speak at home?  How often do you visit (insert participant/parent country of birth)?  How/how often/why do you communicate with family and friends in (insert participant/parent country of birth)?  Are all of your family members here in the United States?  What do you know about the American Dream? Where did you get your information about the American Dream? What does the American Dream mean to you? What is your dream as a Latina youth?

Gender  How important are your relationships with other Latina youth?  How do you experience being a girl in South Florida and in (insert participant/parent country of birth)? How is being a girl different in South Florida than in (insert participant/parent country of origin)? Why? How you deal with this difference?  As a young Latina woman, what do you see as your role in 2010 and the years after? Who influences what you think your role as a young Latina woman should be? How do they influence you? Is there anything else that influences how your see your role as a young Latina woman? If so, what and how does it influence you?  What do you understand about feminism? Where did you learn about feminism? Do you see yourself as a feminist? If so, what are some things you do that reflect you as a feminist? If not, why?

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Race  What racial group(s) do you locate yourself in? How would you describe your race(s)? Are there ways that you feel (insert racial groupings)?  How do you see the experience of being (insert participants‟ racial grouping(s) here) in South Florida and in (insert participant/parent home country)? Can you think of a time when being (insert participants‟ racial grouping(s) here) made a difference for you in school, outside of school, or in (insert country of birth)? What happened? How did you deal with this?

Nationality  What nationality/nationalities would you say you are?  What does being (insert nationality/nationalities) mean to you? Can you think of a time when being (insert nationality/nationalities) made a difference for you in school, outside of school, or in (insert participant/parent country of birth)? What happened? How did you feel about this experience?  What does being an American mean to you? Do you think that you can be an American and (insert nationality/nationalities here)? Why or why not? Are there ways in which you feel American?  What do you think that being an American means to other people? What do you think informs their opinion? Are there ways in which other people feel American?

Advocacy  What do you think of when I say the word “Latina”? “Hispanic”? What informs your understanding of “Latina” and “Hispanic”? Are there ways that you feel “Latina” and/or “Hispanic?”  How do you think that people in the United States view Latina youth? What do you think informs their understanding of Latina youth? Do you agree or disagree? How does this make you feel?  What do you think of when I say the word “citizenship”? “Immigrant”? What informs your understanding of “citizenship” and “immigrant”?  What do you think other people think when they hear the word “citizenship”? “Immigrant”? What do you think informs their understanding of the words “citizenship” and “immigrant”?  How are the experiences of Latina youth in South Florida different? How are the experiences the same?  In terms of education, public policies, and girls‟ advocacy groups, what are your recommendations for making changes on behalf of Latina youth?

Conclusion  Is there anything else that you would like to add?

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APPENDIX J: Third Semi-Structured Interview Questions

 Why did you choose these images to represent who you are?  What do you think your collage says? What ideas or stories were you trying to communicate through your collage?  I see you have a (insert specific aspect of the collage here). Would you please tell me more about (insert specific aspect of the collage here)?  Here, I see you put (insert specific aspect of collage here). Is this the artist/poet/show/movie/book/dance/musician/song etc. you like the best? Why?  Is there anything else you would like to add?

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APPENDIX K: Prompt for the Who I Am Collage

Think about your life since you were a little girl and your journey into your teenage years as a young woman. You might be thinking about your family, your friends, school, and the different places you‟ve lived. You might also be thinking about the different experiences you‟ve had, activities you like to do, and your hopes for the future. Now, create a collage that tells a story or paints a picture of you and your life.

In this bag, you will find the following items to help you create your collage: girls‟ magazines, glue, scissors, colored pencils, markers, pens, stickers, glitter, and poster board. I would like for you to use the poster board to create your collage. But, you may use as much or as little of the other materials as you want. Remember, your collage will be returned after five years. Please keep this in mind if you choose to use your own materials, photos or other personal items that are of special importance to you.

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APPENDIX L: Emma’s Who I Am Collage

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APPENDIX M: Viviana’s Who I Am Collage

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APPENDIX N: Gabriela’s Who I Am Collage

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