To all the persons injured or killed in the El Paso shooting—those who are Mexican and those who are not.

A couple of months ago I changed my computer screen wallpaper. I chose a photograph of Arthur Bochner, Carol Rambo, and myself taken at a celebration of Art and Carolyn Ellis’s retirement party. The picture became a shield I use to protect myself from what I have experienced as an aggressive imposition of my female colleagues’ domain assumptions in Mexican academia. For me, the image of the three of us is a reflection of myself in a comfortable place of belonging.

In this article I focus on my place in Mexican academia, but ever since I was very young I have wondered how much of a Mexican I can claim to be. How far I can claim to be a member of what Benedict Anderson1 calls an imagined political...

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