By Jamie Martinez Wood

I gained unforeseen and profound insight into the legacy of Latino literature and journalism when I accepted the opportunity to write the “Latinos Writers and Journalists” book. The publisher, Facts on File, wanted to create a series, which would include separate books featuring Latino artists, political leaders, scientists, and athletes. I filled my proposal with fervent desire to applaud the valor and tenacity of the Latino experience whether on suburb streets, in the city, fighting small mindedness, teaching their children pride in La Raza, or the need to adapt to a new way of life.

As an eighth generation Mexican American, with 200 years of assimilation, I did not feel as connected to my Latino roots as I wanted. To tell the truth, as protected as I was from the bitter taste of prejudice, I did not understand why I was not taught Spanish at home. I heard the stories of how Grandpa was not allowed to swim in the community pool in Santa Ana on Memorial Day, because it was a holiday, or how my mother had friends stop hanging out with her when their parents found out she was Mexican. But I did not really comprehend why there were no stories about Mexico, why I was not raised with one dicho, or traditional remedy.

In writing this book I had an opportunity to explore deep into the hearts and minds of the most influential writers and journalists of our times. Biographies by their nature should inspire readers. To become as inspired as I wanted the reader to be, I chose to personally interview as many writers and journalists as I could reach. But first I had to tackle the process of deciding who would be featured in the book.

The “Latino Writers and Journalists” book had to include detailed information about the writers and journalists’ early years, an equal number of men and women, a fair representation of writers from the past as well as the present, and cover the diversity of genres. I called Chicano Studies departments of local universities and compared the recommended readings lists. I spoke with Latino bookstore owners and managers. I conferred with editors specializing in Latino writers. As no book existed that included detailed biographical information about Latino journalists, I asked Julio Moran and Yvette Cabrera for assistance in contacting journalists, mostly print journalists, as per editor request.

So by luck, grit, and a lot of blind faith I reached out and spoke with more than 70 of the wonderful people in this book, creating a landmark textbook that truly contains the spark that makes these writers and journalists special people. I wouldn’t focus solely on their achievements, because we all need a goal closer to home. Instead I asked several questions about their formative years to create common ground for readers. Some questions include: Who is the most influential person in your life and why? What did you dream of becoming as a child? What did teachers think of you? Any childhood reputations? What childhood or young adult experiences, memories, characteristics shaped you and your writing?

With each interview, I discovered that whether or not someone assimilated depended in large part to who was around them at the time. More often than not, there was some crazy abuelita who refused to give up her tried and true ways. As my grandmother died before I was born, I lived vicariously through these tales. My pride in my Latino brothers and sister grew as I found stories that rang of courage, a love of life, and obstacles they overcame to demand their rightful place in literature and honest representation in the media. But it was not until E.A. Mares used the word “propaganda,” for the sake of the children, as the primary means of forcing people into abandoning their culture that I finally understood. With this crack in my armor, I felt, for the first time, the pain and toll it takes to relinquish all that is familiar. I gained compassion that became like a domino effect.

Open as I was, I felt, with deep awareness, the courage of Magdelena Beltran-del Olmo who gave me an inspiring interview about her late husband, Frank del Olmo, and his equal courage as a pioneering journalist, the doggedness of Mercedes de Uriarte, who insisted that surnames with a de or del prefix be alphabetized under “D,” the sincerity of Sandra Benítez when she spoke about the process of assuming her mother’s Latino maiden name, and the humor of Nicolás Kanellos’ childhood pranks and his determination to protect the honor of his people.

Writing The Latino Writers and Journalists book was a gift for my soul and hopefully teaches our youth the diversity and beauty of our Latino heritage.

For more information on Jaime Martinez Wood visit www.jamiemartinezwood.com