Chicana M(other)work Blog

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Honoring the practice of rest, CMW will be on a fall hiatus until January 2021. We will respond to any blog submissions at that time.

The Chicana M(other)work Blog is accepting submissions that discuss, share, and challenge the experiences of mothers, parents, other-mothers, hijxs, and teachers through an intersectional lens (race, class, gender, sexuality, ability, etc). We are especially interested in publishing testimonios by self-identified Chicana and Women of Color Mother-scholars (cis and trans), gender non-conforming and non-binary people of color, as well as allies who center mothering as an act of transformative labor within and beyond academia.

 

To be considered, please submit an original unpublished (including print and online publications) manuscript of 700-1500 words, a title, and a 150-word biography in Microsoft Word. Please also include a high resolution photo as a jpeg file, which will complement your published work. We also accept anonymous submissions. Submissions should be sent to: chicanamotherwork@gmail.com

 

Unfortunately, we cannot offer compensation for publication because we are a grassroots collective. Likewise, because we are a volunteer collective, please allow one-month from your date of submission for us to get back to you. We look forward to reading your testimonios!

 

Should your work be accepted for publication elsewhere in the future, we ask that you please provide visible credit as site of initial publication to The Chicana M(other)work Blog or a link to our page.

Recent Posts

A love letter to myself in this final stretch

Celinita, What a life baby. Nearing 28, and so happy, so strong, so smart, con más ganas que nunca. To think four years ago you were living in a Chevy Malibu, picking up the pieces left of that little girl who wanted to do it all for our community. To think three years ago you enrolled at Rio Hondo Community College, scared and alone, depressed and with not even an ounce of vision. To think you cried in every hall because you felt like a failure. Because your daughter didn’t have her family. You cried because you failed your history class, you cried because your professors were mad racists, you cried because your math professor told you “it wasn’t my choice to have your kid for you” when you

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