I'm reviewing Bad Mexican because I loved it, but my review might make you sad because the zine is no longer available. It's instant karma, though, because I'm bummed that Daniela's first zine, Soy Secretron is not in my greedy clutches.
It's funny how even though it's only from 2010, the zine feels old and old school. Daniela signs each copy, and mine at least has a little happy face illustration and handwritten annotations. There's a table of contents and a song recommended for each section. Daniela refers to her work as a "mini zine," but clearly it's a lot more substantial than she gives it credit for being. If you know Daniela, who is driven and ridiculously accomplished, it won't surprise you that her standards for her own work are absurdly high.
My encounters with Daniela have mostly been related to the POC Zine Project, which she founded. This zine is like the backstory to her involvement in zines and race issues. Plus it's personal. Daniela shares what it is like existing in the world as a light-skinned queer Chicana and how her identities affect her family and work relationships.
She tells stories about her parents and childhood, losing her native Spanish, getting the tattoo featured on the cover of the zine, telling off a racist waiter in a fancy restaurant, and working with Teamsters whose racism bothered her, but to whom she was also grateful for the sweetness and "protection" they offered. There's also an essay about undocumented teens graduating from high school with nowhere to go but to a dead-end job and a yummy list reading recommendations.
About that, funny story -- my Native American ancestors were enslaved by the white missionaries there and changed my family's name, so that's why my last name is Capistrano.