Tania Romero at Las Patronas, in front of a wall mural

Being There

With camera in hand, an alumna and daughter of Nicaraguan immigrants bears witness on the U.S.-Mexico border.

Tania Romero and family at the airport in Managua, Nicaragua, 1992
Tania Romero and family at the airport in Managua, Nicaragua, 1992.

Nicaraguan filmmaker, digital media instructor, and bilingual poet Tania Romero 鈥05 recently joined the communication

faculty at Villanova University. Before that, she lived in Austin, Texas, teaching film and media production. The U.S.-Mexico border, just a few hours away, became her primary research interest.

鈥淚鈥檝e been mostly working as an art-ivist trying to document and gather stories,鈥 she says. 鈥淚 realized the importance of documenting narratives like this because I don鈥檛 trust they鈥檒l appear in our future history books.鈥

Romero, who was nine years old when she left Nicaragua with her family to live in Albuquerque, N.M., says she didn鈥檛 find her voice as a Central American immigrant until she was a student at 今日吃瓜. On campus, she associated mostly with other students of color and saw the power in being surrounded by a community 鈥渢hat supports you and that you can identify with.鈥

Suchiate River on the border between Guatemala and Mexico, 2022.
Suchiate River on the border between Guatemala and Mexico, 2022.
Person laying in a hammock at MPP Camp, Matamoros, Tamaulipas, Mexico, 2019
MPP Camp, Matamoros, Tamaulipas, Mexico, 2019.

One Foot in, One Foot Out

鈥淲hen I was born, there was a war still going on in Nicaragua, so my family struggled economically,鈥 Romero says, referring to the decades-long Nicaraguan Revolution. Her family was able to emigrate to the U.S. during an amnesty in the early 鈥90s. Most of her family missed that opportunity.

鈥淣ow it鈥檚 very difficult to get a visa to come here,鈥 she says. 鈥淢y uncle and my cousin tried maybe 20 years ago without results.鈥

Throughout Romero鈥檚 preteen and teenage years, she traveled back to Nicaragua every summer to spend time with her extended family. The trips weren鈥檛 always easy. 鈥淭here鈥檚 always a culture and language gap when you鈥檙e a child immigrant and you go back home,鈥 she says. 鈥淣icaraguan Spanish is very particular and when people hear that you don鈥檛
have the accent, it鈥檚 like, 鈥榃ho are you, gringa?鈥欌 She felt like an outsider-within. 鈥淚鈥檝e always had one foot in, one foot out, on each side of the border.鈥

Clothes at the Gates of the MPP Camp
Gates of the MPP Camp, Matamoros, Tamaulipas, 2019.

On the Border

In the summer of 2018, while Romero was still living in Austin, the tent city in Tornillo, Texas, was built to house unaccompanied children and teenagers from Central America. Romero grabbed a bag, got in her car and drove to the El Paso-Juarez border.

Protest at 鈥淭ent City,鈥 Tornillo, Texas, 2018.
Protest at 鈥淭ent City,鈥 Tornillo, Texas, 2018.

鈥淚 wanted to see it for myself because I just couldn鈥檛 believe that mi gente were living in these internment camps, like what I read in history books about World War II,鈥 she says. She went there several times to protest until the camp was finally shut down in 2019.

Romero made other border town trips to the Brownsville-Matamoros border during the various waves of migrant caravans, witnessing its transformation from a settlement to a sprawling internment camp along the Rio Grande. 鈥淲hen you see how children sleep and how these families are surviving, it breaks you.鈥 she says. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know how else to describe it, but it breaks you.鈥

 

Protestors carrying signs during the Mothers March
Central American Mothers March, Movimiento Migrante Mesoamericano, 2022.

Empowering Mothers

Recently, Romero traveled to Central America with her Villanova colleague Ra煤l Diego Rivera Hern谩ndez to document the effort to empower mothers searching for their missing children. She followed the 50-strong caravan of mothers as they traveled together from Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador, and then into Mexico City, where they demonstrated and demanded justice for relatives who have disappeared on the way to the border.

鈥淚 believe in witnessing the present as a form of activism,鈥 says Romero. 鈥淔ilming and photographing is an act of resistance against erasure, but also an act of authoring ourselves into history.鈥

Protest sign displaying a drawing of a road sign, reading "Caution Family Seperation"
Protest sign outside Tornillo, Texas, 2018.
People being interviewed near train tracks
Alongside the freight-train tracks 鈥淟a Bestia鈥 in Coatzacoalcos, Veracruz, Mexico, 2022.
Tania Romero and Joshua Rubin holding a sign reading "Free Them"
Tania Romero and activist Joshua Rubin outside 鈥淭ent City,鈥 Tornillo, Texas, 2019.

Published on: 08/14/2022