From being told not to speak Spanish in high school to confronting the current anti-immigrant environment, associate professor Thania Muñoz D. pivots to celebrate the creativity of Latin American and immigrant authors who rise to tell their story.
Thania Muñoz D., associate professor of Spanish and Latin American and Latinx literature and culture, has always been proud of her Mexican heritage and the Spanish language. Today, her classes include Latinx students eager to learn more about their culture, as well as Retrievers from around the world who see Spanish as an asset for any career path.
But Muñoz D. didn’t always have such a welcoming community. In 1998, while she was in high school in California, Proposition 227 effectively ended bilingual education in California. Muñoz was moved into all-English-speaking classes, leaving her confused about why Spanish—a language that connected her to her heritage—was suddenly unwelcome. It left her with a question that would stay with her and ultimately shape her research: Why do they hate Spanish?
Decades later, Muñoz D. is living through another period of heightened anti-immigrant and anti-Latin American sentiment. These policies and narratives can embed fear, influencing whose stories get told and how. Drawing on years of research, Muñoz D. offers a counter-narrative in her new book, Across Canons: Language, Latin American Immigrant Literature, and the Making of Latinx Narratives.
“There is the pain of immigration and the policies that have harmed immigrant communities,” says Muñoz D., the managing editor-in-chief and founder of the cultural and literary journal Latin@ Literatures. “Still, there is also this other story: We are people who can study literature, who can write, who can create, and who have the right to tell our own stories.”
Q: Why did you choose the authors you analyze in your book?
A: One inspiration for this book is the creativity of immigrants. Anti-immigrant narratives can take away our right to write our own stories. Instead, we are often reduced to stereotypes—that we are hardworking, that we love our families, or that we are the people who cut the grass. But we are not a single group defined by those stereotypes. We are creative. We are artists. We have all kinds of professions.
I focused on three authors: Pulitzer Prize-winning Mexican author Cristina Rivera Garza and former Guggenheim Fellows Alberto Fuguet and Edmundo Paz Soldán. All three, like me, were born in Latin America and worked extensively in the U.S. Rivera Garza was born in Mexico, Fuguet in Chile, and Soldán in Bolivia, and they have also lived and worked extensively in the United States. Their novels, short stories, poetry, and journalism, written in both Spanish and English, explore borders, migration, identity, bilingualism, and the complicated relationship between the United States and Latin America. These narratives draw from the traditional Latin American literary canon as well as American mass media, popular culture, film, and technology.
These three authors are my main-character writers. They offer a creative perspective on what it means to live in this country and try to become a writer. They are creating their own stories and showing the many different ways immigrants experience life in the United States.
Q: You originally wanted to teach high school Spanish but then pursued a Ph.D. researching the role of Spanish in the U.S.—what changed?
A: My high school experience was one of the reasons I decided to study Spanish and literature in college. I felt disconnected from my identity as an immigrant and felt that I did not completely belong in the United States. I remember thinking, at least I have my language, my culture, and these parts of my identity. They anchored me and helped me survive. I went to college in Southern California, where the Latine community is very large, and I was surrounded by other Latine students who understood many of the experiences I had gone through. We also shared a desire to contribute to our communities.
I originally wanted to become a high school teacher and teach Spanish. I wanted my students to see someone with a similar background who had gone to college and could serve as an example of what was possible. But my experiences with my professors eventually encouraged me to go further and pursue a Ph.D. This is when I began asking larger questions: What is the role of Spanish in the United States? Why is Spanish so often viewed as a threat? Why is it treated as though it does not belong in the United States, even though Spanish has a long history here and millions of people speak it?
Q: How did those questions eventually shape the larger research and ideas behind your book?
A: Those questions led me to study the history of Spanish in the United States, particularly its relationship to immigration. I began to understand that whenever there is a major wave of immigration, political debates about language and immigrant communities often intensify. These debates can lead to laws and policies that are deeply harmful to immigrant groups.
I started to see that the issue was much bigger than simply saying, “No more Spanish in high schools.” It was also about taking away language rights and questioning whether people who speak Spanish truly belong in the United States.
That realization made me increasingly angry, but it also pushed me deeper into my research. I began studying immigration alongside the history and role of Spanish in the United States. I also had to think about the colonial history of Spanish, because Spanish itself is not the language of Indigenous communities. At the same time, for many Latinx and Hispanic communities, Spanish has become deeply connected to language, culture, and identity.
The book grew from that combination of personal experience, academic research, and the experiences of my colleagues and community. All of those pieces—the history of Spanish, immigration, language, identity, discrimination, and my own journey—came together to shape the book.
Q: How has your understanding of immigrant history shaped the way you think about what immigrant communities are experiencing today?
A: For me, understanding the history of immigration in the United States is also a way of understanding the present—and finding hope in it. I reject the criminalization of immigrants and the idea that immigrants should be viewed as a threat rather than as people seeking better opportunities. My own experiences have shown me how quickly history can repeat itself. I see this in the experiences of my students, including Venezuelan immigrant students who arrive in high school only to find themselves placed in English classes without access to Spanish instruction.
I also recognize how isolating immigration can be, particularly when people feel that what is happening to them is happening only to them and that no one else understands. For me, knowing the longer history offers another perspective: Immigrants have been part of the United States for generations, across communities and regions, and their stories are deeply woven into this country’s history.
That history can also create solidarity. Even among Latine immigrants who may not share the same views on immigration, there is an opportunity to understand the experiences that connect us. Knowing that history makes it possible to see that we are not alone—and to recognize that immigrants have a long history here that cannot simply be erased.
