Article begins

On an early summer morning, I drove down 100 miles from my home in Altadena, California, to the Oceanside Museum of Art in San Diego County for a public discussion of the exhibition I curated entitled Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings. I began my commute extra early to avoid traffic. My plan worked until I reached San Diego County, and traffic slowed. Stuck in traffic, I looked to my left and noticed a border patrol van pulled up to the lane next to me. I glanced at the very distinct white van with the bright green stripe across it and then at the white truck directly in front of me transporting gardening equipment, the driver of which reminded me of my family. I thought about my parents’ fear of ever coming across a border patrol car and how they would be panicking if they had been in the car with me. This is why my undocumented family does not come this far down south. 

The solo exhibition Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings opened on May 25, 2024, at the Oceanside Museum of Art in Southern California, displaying the work of Alexa Vasquez, an undocumented trans woman born in Oaxaca, Mexico, and currently living in Corona, California. Like me, Alexa crossed the US-Mexico border by Tijuana as a child, and despite being raised in Southern California, the hyper-presence of border patrol and fear of deportation prevented  her and her family from traveling to San Diego. Despite the museum being located in the northernmost city of San Diego County, the proximity to the border haunted the curatorial process. Throughout conversations with Alexa, we discussed our anticipatory anxiety and the disheartening reality that many of our loved ones would not be able to join the opening of the exhibition due to their immigration status. For both of us, this was our first show in a museum. 

In this essay, I reflect on the experience of curating Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings as an undocumented immigrant anthropologist and lessons regarding the potential for curatorial anthropology as a praxis of care. I examine the importance of our exhibition in Oceanside, about 50 miles from the U.S./Mexico border and part of a militarized border county. Additionally, I explore how a curatorial praxis of care disrupts hierarchies of knowledge production and complicates narratives on undocumented immigration. 

Credit: Oceanside Museum of Art.
View upon entering the gallery showing Felicidades, 2022-2024; Aquí, 2022; Árbol que nace torcido todavía florece, 2022; Herencia, 2022; Rarito, 2024; First Generation, 2022
View upon entering the gallery showing Felicidades, 2022-2024; Aquí, 2022; Árbol que nace torcido todavía florece, 2022; Herencia, 2022; Rarito, 2024; First Generation, 2022

Oceanside, California: A Beach Suburb with an Immigration Crisis

According to the Migration Policy Institute, there are approximately 169,000 undocumented immigrants residing in San Diego County. However, between September and November 2023, about 42,000 asylum seekers were dropped off across the San Diego County streets by border patrol. According to San Diego County charities, while they were accustomed to serving hundreds of immigrants, they were unprepared to serve the tens of thousands of immigrant arrivals in the fall of 2023. The unprecedented number of immigrants seeking help was triggered by federal efforts to clear encampments of asylum seekers along the U.S.-Mexico border fence. Despite border authorities being responsible for transporting migrants to their appropriate destinations, they dropped them off at bus stops across San Ysidro, El Cajon, and Oceanside

Migrants arrived at these destinations disoriented and confused, unaware of where they were being dropped off and why. Migrants often thought they were being deported; many were separated from their parents, children, or spouses without any means to reach their sponsor families. Networks of non-profit organizations across San Diego County took up the responsibility of informing arriving migrants of their immigration situation and providing food, shelter, transportation, and the cost of flights to their sponsor families. Local non-profits additionally helped migrants reunite separated family members. The North County LGBTQ Resource Center in Oceanside alone served 1,482 immigrants dropped off in the city. To support local organizations that were exhausting their capacities to assist migrant arrivals, San Diego County distributed 3 million dollars from remaining COVID-19 county funds.

Despite the support of local non-profit organizations, the increased presence of undocumented immigrants in the county has spiked xenophobic sentiments among residents and politicians advocating for more border security and permitting collaboration between border patrol and local law enforcement.  For example, Supervisor Jim Desmond, representing North County San Diego, stated, “Our current policies exacerbate the problem. California offers free healthcare to illegal immigrants, the County of San Diego provides free legal defense irrespective of the crimes committed, and our status as a Sanctuary State impedes law enforcement’s ability to collaborate with ICE.”

Amidst the political tensions in the area, in which some attempt to support and others vilify undocumented immigrants, Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings aimed to provide an alternative narrative about undocumented immigration. Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings tells an intimate story of coming of age as undocumented, queer, and trans in Southern California. Alexa reflects on her childhood as a trans immigrant child through a series of self-portraits and embroidered stuffed animals. As such, Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings explores the experience of double marginalization in which undocumented queer and trans women must navigate xenophobic, homophobic, and transphobic violence. Ultimately, the exhibition calls for the need for a more compassionate childhood for undocumented queer children. Our exhibition speaks to the pertinent issues of undocumented queer immigration within the county. Curating this exhibition in Oceanside was, in many ways, a symbolic return to the border Alexa and I crossed as children. 

Credit: Oceanside Museum of Art
View upon leaving the gallery showing La Última Ofrenda, 2022.
View upon leaving the gallery showing La Última Ofrenda, 2022.

Curating Immigrant Narratives with Care

Within anthropology, curation has emerged as a way to work with art by producing research and knowledge outside the academyAnthropologists have explored the collaborative methods in curatorial projects that allow multiple dialogues, relations, and knowledge-making practices to come together as an event. James Clifford argues for a new understanding of curating as a profoundly relational caring practice that “is about preservation (in the sense of thriving) through active relations of reciprocity and dialogue.” Similarly, María Puig De La Bellacasa theorizes care as a political commitment to using knowledge as interventions to create “as well as possible worlds.” As such, care has the potential to disrupt, to make things visible, and to urge us to think about the politics of knowledge.

Given dominant xenophobic narratives that have continuously rendered undocumented immigrants criminals, telling the story of undocumented immigrants requires a praxis of care. Yet well-meaning leftists have countered such narratives by highlighting the economic contributions of undocumented immigrants and have often tried to humanize undocumented immigrants by showing them sobbing and in raw emotional states of loss, or what undocumented queer poet Yosimar Reyes calls “gloom and doom” narratives. Rather than showing humanity, “gloom and doom” narratives in the media unintentionally perpetuate violence by depicting undocumented immigrants as living in a never-ending cycle of suffering. Through the concept of “undocujoy,” Yosimar and undocumented activists have called for immigrant stories that go beyond violence, pain, and survival. After all, experiencing a range of emotions makes us complex human beings. 

Curating migration stories requires a praxis of care that questions hierarchies of knowledge production and avoids falling into the tropics of “gloom and doom” narratives. The collaboration between a curator and an artist that are both undocumented and queer in Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings challenged the status quo in knowledge production in academia and the museum. While the topics of the U.S./Mexican border and undocumented immigration are part of dominant political discourses and political public art, undocumented artists are largely invisibilized. As a response to public art at the U.S./Mexican border, Black queer and previously undocumented artist Alan Palaez asked, “Will we, migrants, refugees, the (un)documented, ever get to speak and create?” Having undocumented voices beyond the object of representation and in positions such as artist and curator who are credited with expertise makes a difference. 

Yet representation alone does not engage in a praxis of care. For example, exhibitions that embody a “gloom and doom” narrative incite a power relation based on viewers’ pity toward undocumented immigrants. Implementing a praxis of care through the curatorial process creates different ways of relating between artist and curator, artist and viewers, and curator, artist, and the museum. Grounding Alexa Vasquez: Undocumented Times/Queer Yearnings on undocumented knowledge ultimately created a narrative of undocumented immigration that is intimate, vulnerable, and caring. The exhibition provides a window into the lived realities, dreams, and longings of undocumented queer immigrants in the U.S. 

As viewers enter the gallery, they are transported to the world of a queer, trans, and migrant child, seeing the world through innocence where her only art materials were crayons, and family members called her “rarito,” or “strange little one,” for not embodying masculine gestures. While looking to the past by reflecting on her childhood, Alexa also explores a world that could have been if he had never migrated her yearning to return to her ancestral home, Oaxaca, Mexico. 

Click here to view photographs of the exhibition.

Liliana Ramirez and Jeevan Toor are the section contributing editors for the Society for the Anthropology of North America.

Authors

M. Liliana Ramirez

M. Liliana Ramirez is a researcher, writer, artist, and independent curator. She is a 2024 ACLS Leading Edge Fellow and narrative researcher for the Justice Action Center (JAC). She holds a Ph.D. from the Department of Anthropology at the University of California, Irvine. She also earned her M.A. at UCI in Anthropology with a graduate emphasis in Law, Society, and Culture. Based on her research, Liliana is the curator for Alexa Vasquez’s solo entitled “Undocumented Times, Queer Yearnings” (May 25-October 6, 2024) at the Oceanside Museum of Art (OMA) to highlight the experience of coming of age as undocumented, queer, and trans in the U.S.

Cite as

Ramirez, M. Liliana. 2024. “Curating Immigrant Life: A Praxis of Care.” Anthropology News website, October 1, 2024.