Debut author and journalist Paola Ramos travels to near and far corners of the country in search of Latino voices that illustrate a growing movement and represent a community of young Latinos that hold more political, social and cultural relevance today than ever before.
Finding Latinx will take millions of young Latinos --including the author herself-- on a journey of self-discovery and empowerment, shedding light on the voices that have been brewing yet overlooked for years. From Afro-Latinos to Trans-Latinos, border town Latinos to the young Cuban-Americans in Miami--this book will give life to the cryptic term 'Latinx.'
Beyond immersing the reader in the subcultures and hybrids that are carrying this movement, the book will also serve as a manifesto to the 2020 presidential candidates--pointing to the voices that are not being captured by polls, statistics and stump speeches. To this day, the majority of companies, organizations and political campaigns attribute the power of young Latinos to the numbers and statistic that surround them. Latinos are the youngest demographic in the country, with an estimated 32.5 million millennials and Gen Zers across the country. Six out of ten Latinos are millennials or younger and, every single year, one million Latinos turn 18 years- old. Not only do Latino millennials have incredible political power, making up half of all Latino eligible voters, they are also one of the most valuable consumers. They are more active online than non-Latino millennials and are also the most religious TV watchers among the millennial generation.
But it just fell short for me. I appreciated that Ramos spent a lot of time talking about Afro-Latinx experiences and stories. I was glad she spent a lot of time in the Latinx queer community. Or that she gave voice to the indigenous Mayans or the Venezuelans now carving their own apart of Miami. Yet, this felt like an overview, a broad series of strokes more than an exploration of the “voices redefining Latino identity.�
Like, she skips over the vast majority of the southwest. Colorado, New Mexico, Nevada. It’s all clumped into a discussion around Arizona/Texas. She also portrays Latinx as a new demographic, like we only recently came to this country, rather than having been here forever. For instance, to add some biographical elements, in the case of my ancestors, people who settled down in what they thought was Mexico and then the border moved on them.
Maybe it’s because I so recently read Karla Cornejo Villaviccencio’s “The Undocumented Americans,� but Ramos’s book lives in the shadow of that earlier one. And while Ramos finds a slew of interesting people to talk to, her writing lacks the urgency, the compassion, the empathy, and the anger that made the other work so memorable. I kept hoping there would be some measure of excitement and life in these stories, but they’re so cut and dry, so blandly journalistic, they eventually blend in with one another.
It does introduce interesting ways to define and identity we who identify as Latinx or Latine or Latino or whatever. It does show how wide reaching across this country we are. But it never quite reaches the level its thesis promised.
Based on the title, I thought this was going to be a book about gender and language. It's actually a very broad overview of Latinx communities and identities. Having such a broad scope is somewhat risky; when you're covering so many individuals and groups, there's not much time to dig beneath the surface on any particular topic, AND you're almost certainly going to leave many communities out. But the scope informed the thesis of the book, which is that "Latinx" is not monolithic and encompasses a wide array of backgrounds, beliefs, and cultures. That's all good. I don't know anyone who would argue with that unless they're, I don't know... a bigot? It's a pretty basic book on Latinx diversity. I'm sure it's not basic for everyone, which is why this is a worthwhile book that will expand many people's minds. But Ramos states that the "x" is there to encompass all the different cultures represented by the term Latinx. Ok... but is that really why it's there? I thought the creation and usage of the term "Latinx" is deeply rooted specifically in gender inclusivity. That's what I wanted to know more about. So if you're looking for a more in-depth interrogation of the term "Latinx" -- history, current usage, importance, and controversy-- this isn't it.
Instead of “In Search of Voices Redefining Latino Identity,� this book felt more like “In Search of Problems Defining Latino Identity.� I didn’t find myself in this book and it felt more like a critique than a celebration of Latino Identity. Shame on me for not googling the author as well. It didn’t click for me that she is THE Jorge Ramos� daughter and I felt a little misled reading about Latinx plights from a highly privileged author. I wished she could have acknowledged her privilege up front (instead of vaguely calling Coconut Grove her hometown) and written about her own path to higher (and private) education, or even focused a chapter on the burgeoning highly educated Latinx class. I didn’t get much out of this book and I wouldn’t be surprised if other Latinx readers don’t either.
TLDR; a promising premise with a lackluster delivery, would not recommend.
There is so much conversation about Latinx and the premise of the book drew me in. Many people with no frame of reference have an opinion about the term, so a book asking the people who may (or may not) identify with the term to share their story drew me in. For a book that intends to share stories about the myriad of peoples, identities, and ideas within the Latinx community, this book felt more like the author sharing their story the loudest, with some other people mentioned in between.
It seemed really bizarre to me that in trying to find what, who, or why Latinx is, the term usage in the book is wildly inconsistent. A reader might anticipate that the author would stick to a term or at least let the reader know that the story we were reading about was from a person who preferred a specific term. Instead we get a use of Latinx, Latino, Latina, Hispanic used interchangeably. This does not even get to the issues with the writing of the book at large.
It is clear from the jump the author wanted to accomplish more than she did. Deciding to travel across the U.S. to hear from the community, the amount of time and importance given to each place varied WIDELY. Whole sections of the U.S. (primarily the Pacific Northwest, a good chunk of the Midwest, half of the Deep South, and New England) were left out. Coverage of Miami took three chapters, while a stint in NYC was to a chapter of �48 hours to ‘rediscover� the city.� As a reader, it felt the author did not know what she wanted to write. Frankly, a look into Miami and the nuances in identity there would make for a separate book entirely. A better book even, but here the desire to include as many perspectives ensured that not all of them were treated well.
The book was published in 2020, but the shock the author had of ‘finding out� certain communities existed within the Latinx community (namely indigenous peoples, Black Latinx, Muslim Latinx, etc.) was jarring, but also disrespectful to those communities. At every instance the author could, she would bring you back to this point that a “Black Latina� was something we did not think of. We? Maybe white America, but for many of us this is not new. If showing the rest of America that you ‘discovered� nuances in our communities is not the most colonizer view, I do not know what is.
The book reads like 325 pages of placing the utmost importance on voting, with the subject of the book–the people of this community the book is purportedly about–second. Someone who knows nothing about the community or is just learning for the first time might have this level of understanding of the Latinx community, but for an author who lets you know from the first page her qualifications it feels incredibly naive.
Instead of Finding Latinx, it should really be Finding Paola.
This book really shows that Latinos are NOT a monolith. As a first generation immigrant of Asian & Indigenous/Mexican parents growing up in Missouri, this book really hit home for me. A lot of the stories Paola covers are relatable in terms of identity searching and breaking stereotypes. We’re not all Mexican, Catholic, Spanish speakers, or Democrats. The stories of Afro-Latinos, Indigenous, & LGBTQIA Latinos are eye opening and gives everyone a different perspective of what people understand as “Latino.� As one of the fastest growing ethnic groups in the US, I think it is very important for individuals that are unfamiliar with the Latino community to read this book and get to know us better.
This was� fine. For someone writing a book about the Latinx community not being a monolith, she’s weirdly unaware/surprised about “discovering� new sub-communities within the Latinx community?
Idk who this book is written for, but it’s clearly not me!! I’m probably too opinionated about the term Latinx and too recent a migrant to this country to buy into a lot of this messaging.
Personally, it’s wild to me to give a platform to the fucking chairman of the Proud Boys and to have the takeaway be “being Latinx means that your political identity isn’t defined by your background or skin color <3 it’s the Latinx story to define your own narrative, including being a Proud Boy <3� There’s a very important conversation to be had about right-wing Latinxs and how that ties to the countries they left, their internalized white supremacy, nationalism, etc. etc., as well as the rise of their involvement in the far-right movement, but this approach felt irresponsible.
3.5. Ramos reinforces that there is an incredible amount of diversity within the Latino community. She is intentional about giving attention to the Afro-Latino immigrant experience, colorism, and stories from within the Latinx queer community. I learned a lot from this book and appreciated the travelogue format. Sometimes the stories/points seemed a bit too simplistic but that’s probably to be expected when trying to cover experiences from across the entire US in only 300 pages.
I listened to this on libro.fm and it was narrated by the author Paola Ramos. I really enjoyed listening. Paola Ramos tells the stories/experiences of many people in the Latinx community that have usually been left out. I definitely recommend this book!
What an eye opening book. The stories from around the United States are just a reminder at how different we all are and yet society pushes us to believe one stereotype of latinidad. This book inspires me to do more within my own community and the people around me because we can care about more than issue at a time.
I think I expected this book to explore more of the queer aspects of the latinx identity and it felt more as if the author was defining latinx in her terms. no big deal, just had to switch my perspective on it. ** I read this as the Uncorrected Proof so I wonder how it would compare to the final copy! **
Really enjoyed the journey through the states and would recommend
I saw myself in this book from the very beginning. On navigating different identities, on privilege as a white Latina who never had to think about race and identity until leaving home for college; as a Latina Muslim and even in the chapter about the struggle of having frizzy curly hair that will not conform to Eurocentric beauty standards. I loved the diversity of the stories: queer Latinxs, undocumented immigrants, third generation Americans, Afro-Latinxs, Chinese-Cubans, artists, entrepreneurs, students, sex workers and agricultural workers. Latinxs struggling with addiction, mental health and sexual assault. Indigenous people, rejecting Latinidad or embracing it, but carving their own place in America. Ramos traveled across America, from California to Texas to Wisconsin trying to paint a picture of us in all our colors, beliefs and afflictions. And this is the kind of diversity we need non-Latinxs to understand about us, but also one that allows us to better see ourselves and feel comfortable in our own skin, juggling different identities and not quite fitting in these boxes America has made for us.
But I have to say, Ramos isn’t Karla Cornejo Villavicencio, and this is not The Undocumented Americans. Finding Latinx reads like a Telemundo or Vice documentary or a piece of political marketing. The interviews are shallow, predictable and we don’t get to feel the subjects deeply and passionately, like it we knew them, like in The Undocumented Americans. It tries too hard to be inspiring; that it feels detached. Like she’s just outsider looking in.
Paola writes a perfect description of the Latinx community and takes a lot of diligence in ensuring she’s including voices that can go unnoticed. I could relate to some of the stories and learned a lot, too. I felt her use of “coming out� as queer *and* Latinx was clever and made me reflective of my own journey. Loved it and would recommend!
Beautiful stories on the wide range of latinx lives in the US. I wish more conservative perspectives were shared in order to paint a fuller picture. However, those shared were powerful and necessary. Gracias!
I love Paola Ramos’s reporting. She does an incredible job of actively listening and showing the viewer or reader another side of an issue. A great portrait of America.
As an almost novice to Latinx issues and peoples, I found this book to be very readable and it sparked my interest to know more about the Latinx communities in my own region. I liked the travelogue format of the book and I was interested in the author's own perspective that she freely included. I'd recommend it to any reader who wants to learn more about the Latinx community through an interesting and often personal take on it.
Part of why I wanted to read Finding Latinx was to learn more about the term “Latinx.� The word has come into common use in the past few years, replacing “Latino� in identifying people of Mexican and Central and South American descent. When I considered the term Latinx, I’d assumed it was meant to be less gendered, specifically less masculine. Indeed, as Spanish is a gendered language, Latinos would generally refer to men; women would be called Latinas. My assumption was that Latinx would be more gender-neutral, inclusive of not just men, but also women and people who are nonbinary or gender-nonconforming.
However, as Finding Latinx illuminates, Latinx means so much more than just that. In addition to being a gender inclusive term, Latinx is meant to capture all the groups that are underrepresented and forgotten. Latinx is for all within the LGBTQ+ community, indigenous people, people who don’t speak Spanish as their native language or at all, people facing addiction, people of different faiths, people with mental illness, people of different political identities, and more.
Paola Ramos organizes Finding Latinx geographically, working her way around the United States from the West Coast through the South, up the East Coast, and eventually to the Midwest. In addition to providing research and her own personal anecdotes, she includes accounts from the many Latinx people she met around the country.
Early on, we get to know people who are transgender and Latinx. Latino culture is traditionally quite strict with its gender roles, as seen in the concept of machismo. While transgender people face discrimination across cultures, it can be especially difficult within the Latino culture. For many who aren’t cisgender or don’t fit within the gender binary, Latinx can be a term that is a better descriptor.
Later, when we reach New York, we get to know more within the LGBTQ+ community, this time focusing on those with queer sexualities. The author herself is a queer woman living in NYC, as she states at the beginning of the book, and talks about how “Latina� doesn’t feel as accurate in describing her as “Latinx� does. She also includes descriptions of and stories from other queer Latinx people, particularly in the New York area, and how they’re becoming more accepted as we progress forward.
When in the southern U.S., Finding Latinx introduces readers to immigrants who are from Mexico or Central America but don’t speak Spanish. Surprising as this may sound to some people, it shouldn’t be a shock at all. There are numerous indigenous communities across the Americas, and many of them have held onto their languages. Many Latinx don’t speak Spanish (thereby making another common term, “Hispanic,� inaccurate itself). When these immigrants enter the U.S., often to seek asylum, it can be difficult for them to communicate their needs, let alone proceed with their cases. Translators for these lesser known languages are few and far between, but necessary in helping indigenous immigrants. Latino, of course, is a Spanish word. Latinx, on the other hand, represents the evolving nature of language and makes for a more inclusive descriptor.
In Florida � the author’s original home state � we get into politics. Although Latinx people generally lean left (as do all racial groups except whites), there are a high number of Latinx Republicans. This is perhaps most obvious in Florida. Paola Ramos describes the thought process (and cognitive dissonance, I’d say) that goes into being both Latinx and a Trump supporter.
Moving to the Northeast, we also get to know Latinx people who have different faiths. Most Latinx peoples who are religious tend to be Catholic, having inherited the religion from the Spanish. However, other faith groups are growing in prominence, including an emerging Muslim Latinx community. What does it mean to combine two seemingly incompatible identities?
At the end of Finding Latinx, Paola Ramos explores another Latinx group that is often ignored: those who live in rural communities and in the Midwest. In an area that is predominantly white, how do Latinx residents create a space that’s inclusive of them?
Overall, Finding Latinx is both expansive and intriguing. I love that it shines a light on so many underrepresented Latinx people, including many groups I’d never considered much, if it all. While I appreciated the diversity Paola Ramos highlights within the Latinx community across the United States, I felt like it was missing a final piece. I’m not sure what I wanted from it, but I wish the book had gone a bit further in explaining why “Latinx� really is a better term for all these groups of people.
Finding Latinx is an illuminating and thought-provoking book that offers insights into numerous groups within the Latinx community, including many who are too often forgotten. It’s candid and timely, drawing attention to the diversity among Latinx people, yet also the commonalities they share. It’s a great book, whether you fit into the Latinx community yourself or want to get to know this community better.
Absolutely slay! Only thing I didn’t like about this book is it gave me the vibe of “vote blue no matter who� which I 100% dont vibe with. Also, I had to remember when this book was written and who wrote it. She was 100% a peak millennial. Other than that I love the stories she shared and who she decided to interview!! some stores definitely pulled at the heart strings.
Vice Media journalist Paola Ramos has written an insightful book titled Finding Latinx that incorporates the experiences of myriad Latinos across the U.S., probing them to discern what exactly constitutes Latinx experience. Ramos suggests the election of Donald Trump was a pivotal moment that sought to unify Latinx who were resistant to these political changes. The book is organized geographically with sections on the Southwest, the South, and the Northeast and Midwest regions of the United States. Ramos primarily strikes a journalistic tone, though she is quick to point out that she uses a dual lens as both a journalist and an activist.
The work uncovers countless Latinx narratives less well known. For example, Ramos highlights the Latinx community in the Central (or San Joaquin) Valley, which she refers to as “the heartland.� I appreciated this new lens that moves the heartland out of the Midwest since the majority of the nation’s fruits and vegetables are produced here. Fresno has been plagued by a meth crisis and the Latinx community is not immune to that scourge. Not surprisingly, Ramos indicates that the lack of opportunities and resources coupled with a toxic environment riddled with pesticides contribute to a “domino effect� where many seek out meth. In this way, the chapter on the Central Valley reminded me of the problems plaguing the Gulf region of Mississippi illuminated by Jessmyn Ward in Men We Reaped. Other strong chapters covered the Rio Grande Valley where systemic poverty and racism become a barrier to access to education, reproductive rights, and healthy food and the Deep South where communities of Guatemalans have been well-rooted in towns such as Canton, Georgia. In some ways, this work reminded me of Karla Cornejo Villavicienco’s masterful The Undocumented Americans.
At times, however, the coverage seemed slightly repetitive, as two chapters on Guatemalans might have been consolidated. Moreover, the second half of the book with long, disparate chapters did not seem quite as effective as the cogent, tightly argued first half of the book. What Ramos does lay bare is that Latinx communities are diverse and ubiquitous throughout the United States. The book is recommended for those interested in community studies and Latinx studies.
Book club bingo (“Latino/a author�). A very political book, I learned a lot and it delved into identity and experience. Although her journey was haphazardly blended with the stories of others in the Latinx community, it was ultimately empowering.
Ramos helps to illuminate that Latine people are not & have never been a monolith. A wide variety of perspectives and people are discussed and while it isn’t all inclusive of all types of Latine people—that’s kind of the point. As Ramos proves, it would be impossible to have a book about all the different types of Latine people & all their intersectional identities and stories because that’s just how full and vast the Latine community. Yet, Ramos does try to introduce the reader to as many diverse perspectives in the Latine community as possible. As a Latina, I found comfort in all the people Ramos meets—even in the ones I thought I was least likely to connect with. The personal story telling format makes it easy to read and captivating, without spending too much time on any one type of person (although you want to know more about all of them!). I’m honestly not sure if non-latine people would connect with this book in the same ways I did, however I do think people of all ethnic backgrounds could engage with and learn from this book.
I got an ARC of this book, so the cover I have is an earlier and less exciting one. In all honesty, I wasn't sure what to expect with this book. I've seen Ramos criticized on Bookstagram to some degree, mainly in terms of her sympathy toward anti-Castro Cubans. The fact remains that Ramos is half Cuban, and that would explain her allegiance, AND she is also half Mexican and the daughter of Jorge Ramos of Univisión fame. She is also queer and very vocal so I was curious to see what she would do with this book.
I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised in that Ramos, much in the style of MarÃa Hinojosa, traveled the USA interviewing people who are themselves from or descendants of Latin American countries (although there is an emphasis on Mexicans, Central Americans, and people from the Caribbean and from what I can recall, one Venezuelan and one Colombian). She interviews people who some might view as less visible: meth addicts in Fresno, LGBTQ activists, an Afro-Cuban who is prominent in the Proud Boys, and indigenous communities that are thriving in various locations across the USA, including a Oaxacan community in Poughkeepsie, NY. Ramos also explores (fairly in depth) the identity of AfroLatinos. These are all human interest stories and do draw in the reader, making us aware of the multifaceted presence of Latinos across the USA.
What is harder to fathom is Ramos' explanation of "Latinx" as a common denominator for all who are typically otherwise known as Latinos and in some cases Hispanic. As the use of the term, has entered the mainstream it has been embraced by some and rejected by others, (a topic to discuss another day), and many who are of the Latin American diaspora prefer to name their identity as people from their particular country rather than accepting the overarching term Latinx as way of fusing a people that is not a monolith. It could be a function of Ramos' youth that she sees the term as all encompassing - an umbrella term that she holds has room for all underneath it.
The book is an interesting read, and is well written. I also think it is a book that provides a lot of material for discussion.
I can see the value of the book for US audiences, particularly for white anglo people. I'm a non diaspora latina so perhaps a lot of what Ramos claims to "find" has always been there for me. She is constantly surprised throughout this book, surprised at the muslim community, the indigenous people in certain areas. Her ignorance on the many faces of Latinx just shows that she has always lived in that white-tino bubble (the one she claims she had left behind when she left Miami).
In some attempts to normalize Latinx cultures she did the exact opposite, it seemed like she was adding spice for the white reader. She was adding to their foreigness. The amount of times I rolled my eyes at her surprise or her framing. Yes, ma'am there are Muslim latinx. Yes, Maya folk from Central America are often Catholic.
What really irked me as how she always circled it back to voting. How every group could be a voting bloc. Ma'am, please stop. Also the typical diaspora quest to integrate everything into an Americaness. I'm not sure she's aware that indigenous identity is not comporable to an American identity.
In the whole book I found one piece of information that was original or undiscussed, the Lenca connection to Minnesota.
Ultimately I think the idea had potential but it would have been a much better book if she had allowed people to write their own storied instead of being her interview subjects. She could have been a good editor instead of titular writer. Unfortunately we got a prose that was often condescending to the reader and the people involved.
I started reading this book expecting to get a definitive definition of what Latinx means. I’ve been hearing the term but didn’t understand what it meant, who’s using it to define themselves, and where it came from. The answer I got was unexpected.
Journalist Paola Ramos travels around America, talking to people of Latin American, Caribbean, and indigenous backgrounds about their identity in relation to Latino and American cultures. She meets with people living in communities that are hidden, forgotten, misunderstood, and exploited. Colorism and language are barriers. For example, many indigenous people from Guatemala do not speak Spanish but a language descended from their Native American ancestors. So when they end up at the U.S. border, no one understands them and no one cares to try.
But this is just one of the many stories that Ramos hears from people and she talks to a lot of people. I feel her point is that historically the Latin American community has been grouped under one umbrella, when in truth the culture is very diverse with it’s own characteristics that you have to want to learn about. Even within the Latino culture divisions exist. The word Latinx is a way to be inclusive of everyone within the culture who yearns to be welcomed and accepted.
I found this book to be highly informative and I recommend it to anyone wanting to learn more about the Latinx culture.
This book healed a wound inside of me that needed to be healed. Growing up in the south in the United States my brown skin as the daughter of Mexican Immigrant parents was not always accepted with the beauty and empowerment it desired to be recognized with. I vividly can recall the 2016 election and the pain that it re-open in my community for people who looked like me and for others with in the U.S. who didn't fit into a stereotype or cookie cutter image an "American". In the countless U.S. history classes I have taken throughout my education people of color have always be striped away from central and integral portions that paint the true picture of our role in this country. This book helped place a missing piece for me throughout the history I have learned. Furthermore, I appreciated the wide range of voiced uplifted and casted out of the shadows in this book from indigenous communities, to Muslim Latinx members, to the journey of a undocumented drag queens and a member of the hate group the "Proud Boys". This book truly shed light and the complexity of what it means to be Latinx. Thank you Paola for your work on this book and for producing a wonderful piece of work for so many to learn from!
This book is so important to us Latinx people, I was deeply moved by all the stories from the different people Paola interviewed. I learned so many new statistics that I had never known about for the Latino community, some amazing and some horrifying. I laughed, I cried, I cheered, I got frustrated and I gained more pride for my community.
As a gay Latinx Chicagoan I’ve only ever known of the latino communities in Chicago, Miami, NYC and Los Angles because I knew these were places that had big latino communities but this book opened my eyes to all the places around America that have huge Latinx populations.
A huge win for me was that this book talked about the colorism that we have in the Latino community, something that I (a white passing latino) always knew about but never spoke up against because I was taught to not speak about it. It’s something so upsetting and deeply intertwined in our communities history and I’m glad we’re finally talking about it. These are our brother and sisters, Latinx is not just the white passing Spanish blood people you see on TV, it’s our entire community.
Ramos is in search of defining the recently-coined term Latinx. I'll admit when this word first started to be used, I wondered at the provenance. I know people that are offended by the word Hispanic, but struggle to find a word that encapsulates who they are.
My students will often ask me, "what are you?" It sounds like such a deep existential question, but what they really want to know is "do you speak Spanish?" The question grapples with my identity in a way that a young person is unable to articulate. But, it also doesn't recognize that I am just one version of what it means to be Latina in America.
This book attempts to peak into corners far and wide at the Latinx community, but it skims the surface without digging in deep. Who you are and how you identity with your culture and ethnicity are complicated subjects that require more than a part of a chapter.