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A review by moominlove
Solito by Javier Zamora
5.0
Probably the quickest I've ever read a book - I just couldn't put it down. Now I'm crying in the middle of the work day.
This book really hit me on a personal level. My mom's story is remarkably similar to Zamora's. She crossed the border when she was 5 years old with my grandma and my tios. She took buses from El Salvador through Guatemala and Mexico and walked through the desert to make it to the States, she made it through Yuma, Arizona. She was detained and separated from my grandma at one point. She was only 5. My mom talks about it sometimes but it's difficult for her. She doesn't remember too much because she was young, but she's also tried to forget.
I've always known my mom's story but as I've gotten older the gravity of it all just sinks deeper and deeper. She was only 5. Zamora was only 9. They were just babies. They had to be so strong before they even really knew what strength meant. I'm 25 now and I'm still trying to figure out what it means to "be strong." Thankfully I have my mom to show me how. Thankfully I'm Salvi, I have a whole country of people to show me how. Thankfully we have books like Solito that can show us all how to be strong.
One thing that really struck me is when he recalled being close to La Linea (the border) and how everything looked the same to him. The adults would say that side is Mexico, the other is USA but Zamora saw it all the same. It was all the same dirt, all the same cacti, all under the same moon. This is being told in Zamora's perspective as a little boy so doesn't really understand the concept of a border, but it really speaks to the ridiculousness of artificial border lines. He didn't change when he crossed, he didn't feel differently. He was the same scared 9 year old boy when he made it to the States. But we insisted on a fake line to divide us - so he was forced to climb, to crawl, to starve, to nearly die of heat exhaustion.
I hope everyone who traveled with Zamora is okay. His story is especially traumatic because he was so young, but really it doesn't matter how old you are. This type of thing stays with you forever. I hope they got to their families safely, got a nice cold shower, and enjoyed a nice coca cola. They deserved it.
Zamora, my mom, my grandma, my tia gloria, my tio marvin - they were lucky. Others weren't so lucky. Others got deported back to ES, others were jailed for multiple attempts, others died. My heart goes out to them, to their families. I pray that one day we can live in a world where people don't have to make such a dangerous journey. Where opportunities are abundant everywhere, access to equitable education and healthcare are available everywhere and to everyone. This book reminded me there is still lots of work to be done to make this world a reality and I need to be an active participant in it.
Thank you Zamora for writing this, for sharing your story, for being vulnerable.
fuck ICE
This book really hit me on a personal level. My mom's story is remarkably similar to Zamora's. She crossed the border when she was 5 years old with my grandma and my tios. She took buses from El Salvador through Guatemala and Mexico and walked through the desert to make it to the States, she made it through Yuma, Arizona. She was detained and separated from my grandma at one point. She was only 5. My mom talks about it sometimes but it's difficult for her. She doesn't remember too much because she was young, but she's also tried to forget.
I've always known my mom's story but as I've gotten older the gravity of it all just sinks deeper and deeper. She was only 5. Zamora was only 9. They were just babies. They had to be so strong before they even really knew what strength meant. I'm 25 now and I'm still trying to figure out what it means to "be strong." Thankfully I have my mom to show me how. Thankfully I'm Salvi, I have a whole country of people to show me how. Thankfully we have books like Solito that can show us all how to be strong.
One thing that really struck me is when he recalled being close to La Linea (the border) and how everything looked the same to him. The adults would say that side is Mexico, the other is USA but Zamora saw it all the same. It was all the same dirt, all the same cacti, all under the same moon. This is being told in Zamora's perspective as a little boy so doesn't really understand the concept of a border, but it really speaks to the ridiculousness of artificial border lines. He didn't change when he crossed, he didn't feel differently. He was the same scared 9 year old boy when he made it to the States. But we insisted on a fake line to divide us - so he was forced to climb, to crawl, to starve, to nearly die of heat exhaustion.
I hope everyone who traveled with Zamora is okay. His story is especially traumatic because he was so young, but really it doesn't matter how old you are. This type of thing stays with you forever. I hope they got to their families safely, got a nice cold shower, and enjoyed a nice coca cola. They deserved it.
Zamora, my mom, my grandma, my tia gloria, my tio marvin - they were lucky. Others weren't so lucky. Others got deported back to ES, others were jailed for multiple attempts, others died. My heart goes out to them, to their families. I pray that one day we can live in a world where people don't have to make such a dangerous journey. Where opportunities are abundant everywhere, access to equitable education and healthcare are available everywhere and to everyone. This book reminded me there is still lots of work to be done to make this world a reality and I need to be an active participant in it.
Thank you Zamora for writing this, for sharing your story, for being vulnerable.
fuck ICE