Désirée Zamorano on Mexican repatriation, yesterday and today
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Désirée Zamorano’s novel “Dispossessed” came out in October 2024, when a second-term Trump presidency was still uncertain and the thought of another four years of MAGA was unfathomable. Manuel Victor Galvan, the orphaned Mexican American protagonist of Zamorano’s novel, is more than the average character in historical fiction. He is a messenger who imparts the unpleasant truths of the United States’ history.
The reader meets two-year-old Manuel on a California beach, enveloped by the love of his parents and big sister, Lulu. The waves are scary, but his father’s strong arms are there to protect him. By page two, the unthinkable has happened: Manuel and Lulu are torn from their parents and discarded in an unfamiliar environment. By page four, his beloved Lulu is also gone. Unbeknownst to Manuel and his family, following the Wall Street crash of 1929, a nativist sentiment arose, and the United States government began to deport Mexicans, both non-citizens and citizens, to Mexico. Manuel’s family day at the beach represents the experience of many Mexican families during the decade of cruel repatriation. So begins Manuel’s lifelong journey to understand the day at the beach and what happened to his family. At their separation, Lulu leaves him with the directive, “portate bien, seas un buen niño, seas mi hermanito, valiente y bueno,” words that would become his mantra for the rest of his life.
Zamorano, a teacher at California State University Long Beach, wrote this story in response to her students’ lack of knowledge of Mexican and Mexican American history in the United States. “Every time my students would not know something, I’d say you can’t be embarrassed for not knowing, but you have to question why you don’t know this.” The Mexican Repatriation (1929-1939), the Battle of Chavez Ravine (1951-1961), Prop 187 (1994) and other historically violent acts against Mexicans have left permanent wounds on California’s communities. Zamorano would ask herself, “Where is the novel that talks about this? Where’s the TV series? Where’s the movie?” It wasn’t until 2018 that Zamorano realized, “I must be the person who has to write it.”
We spoke with Zamorano to learn more about what she hopes to teach through her novel and the intentionality of choosing Manuel as the lens through which the reader sees the story unfold.
This book revolves around the Mexican Repatriation, which I admittedly did not know about, and the history of the Chavez Ravine displacement and Dodger Stadium. What is their importance to your novel?
I started teaching a course called Linguistic and Cultural Diversity for Educators. And in this four-week course, I cover what happened to Asian Americans, Native Americans, African Americans, Mexican Americans and the greater Latinx population. They’re California students; they never heard of the genocide in California. A million people were forced out of this country. A conservative estimate is 400,000 U.S. citizens.
Emotionally, a million means nothing. A million is a statistic. One person is a tragedy. So, I knew that I was going to follow the life of one person impacted by this mass expatriation. And along the way, I was going to incorporate little-known Mexican American histories here in Los Angeles, here in Southern California
The very first scene starts with Manuel so young, and we see the story through his eyes. What did you do to put yourself in that little body?
I put myself in a situation where I didn’t have the vocabulary. There’s no vocabulary for this kid. All he has are some images and some emotions. I wanted the reader to see as much as Manuel could. And by seeing what he could see, feel what’s going on. I feel with that limited information, we really fall into that character, and we feel what’s going on in his heart.
Your novel is written with a linear structure. Can you talk about that?
I had played with a couple things as Manuel recounts it to his daughter or granddaughter. I wasn’t comfortable with that device. I just thought, the recounting is so different than feeling it as it happens. I do think it’s linear because I wanted the reader to be tugged through and see if we ever find out what happened.
This book covers 50 years. Was that always your intention to make it last that long?
(photo by Rachael Warecki)
Yes, I wanted to get to the time in California when we passed Prop 187. People forget that Californians voted to, basically, make sure that undocumented people, and their children, couldn’t access things like public services, schools and hospitals. I remember living through it and thinking that we were creating a permanent underclass. Memories are short. I know my students haven’t been taught any of this. They sometimes say, “Maybe I wasn’t paying attention in class.” No, you weren’t taught this. You weren’t taught this, my dear.
We don’t like to think bad things can happen to innocent people. We have to think there must be some reason, because once we start thinking bad things can happen to, we are no longer protected. Bad things can happen to us, because life is so arbitrary.
This book will stay with me. I learned so much about my own history. What are you working on next?
I’m very excited because I have a collection of short stories coming out. But also, in this political tone, where is the best use of my energy? I want to continue to do activism. I have to find the best place for that.
– Written by Lorena Ortiz
– Copy edited by Kami Waller
Lorena Ortiz is a Mexican American fiction writer born in California. Her work has been published in PenDust Radio, The Acentos Review, Latino Book Review and Konch Magazine. She has been supported by VONA, Tin House, Macondo, and Kenyon, and she is a 2025 Periplus Fellow. Lorena currently lives in Washington, D.C., and shares a home with her husband, her mother, her 11-year-old daughter, an adored black cat and a few young adult children who come and go as they please.
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