
Every day the men set out on surveillance of the dusty plain, with their tactical gear and camouflage they seem more suited for a battlefield than the border of Arizona. These men patrol the border, on a mission to “stop illegal immigration, drug smuggling, and human smuggling” (Borja).
But these men are not official members of the Border Patrol, they are citizens, some with military or international security experience, others who’ve “never seen combat before but still” have the military grade equipment and skills. Like Cookie in “Even in Heaven,” on a federal level these “civilian militias” are not encouraged to do this work, nor are they authorized. However, on a ground level, agents perform house calls and “receive intel and information from the past few days of patrols” (Borja). While Cookie, only armed with her binoculars, is not nearly as extreme as these civillian militias, the motive is the same: to protect “from what they believe is the most imminent threat” (Borja).
“A peasant and housemaid in her native Mexico, here she is a homeowner and considered a member of the middle class. Doesn’t she have a right to protect her position?” (Guerrero 19).
They consider immigrants crossing the border as invaders. This rhetoric is reminiscent of Peter’s; he tells Cookie “we’re being overrun by illegals” (Guerrero 18).
With the use of “we’re” he includes Cookie in the American community, a community Cookie desperately wants to be integrated into. However, it is also clear that Peter has not completely included her into this group. He says, “it’d be […] a chance to show where your heart is” and “nobody would suspect you” revealing that he still sees her as “other,” a person whose alliances and loyalties are unclear (Guerrero 18). Even though she has lived in the U.S for 20 years, she is still treated this way. Being a citizen in the country is not enough for her to be seen as loyal.
Cookie follows Peter’s advice, saying that this job is a chance to “prove her loyalty once and for all” (Guerrero 18). She spends some time spying on people along the border but once she actually acts on it, she becomes “hot with shame […] for the phone calls she made to the Border Patrol, about [Joaquín], his friends, cars they drove, what they looked like” (Guerrero 15). She considers ending her involvement in the entire thing and returning the binoculars. When she spies Joaquín’s mother in their apartment, she briefly allows her thoughts to stray toward Mexico and its people by empathizing with Joaquín and his mother, worried whether “something [might happen] to Joaquin” because of her actions, but this does not stop her from spying on him or the border. She still does not feel as though her identity as an American woman is protected; she is not secure in this identity. Cookie is fearfully protective of her identity as an American woman and, in extension, her home. She plans to erect a fence around her home and cover the borders of it with hedges that “will grow so high she won’t be able to see the street below,” effectively shielding her home from the reality of Frontera street, a town influenced by the different cultures that collide at the border (Guerrero 24). Only then, when she is surrounded by fences of barbed wire, will she be secure.
However, Cookie doesn’t realize that the lengths she goes to, to prove and protect this identity, have unintended consequences; her persistence to be only American puts a strain on the relationship she has with her community, her daughter, and herself. It could also potentially significantly affect the lives of Joaquín and his mother and disrupt their lives and dreams in America.
Cookie spies on the border, but she also spies on people within her own community. Cookie’s connection with the Border Patrol leads her to be compared with La Malinche, a traitor. “One neighbor even wonders whether “she’s spying on more than the illegals” [165]. And indeed, she seems to be on the lookout for other transgressions […]” (Bolton 31). Cookie looks for Mexican influence within her own community so she can root it out, but when she reports on them, she feels guilty. She knows that Mesquite is rich with both American and Mexican culture and peoples; these cultures are a part of the history of Mesquite. However, this fact is not easily accepted, instead she chooses to “disengage herself from [this] identity” (Bolton 31). She wishes to build a fence around her house to isolate herself even more, a hedge that will cut off reminders of her past. Her rejection of her past effectively removes any control she has over that past; “memories will continue to haunt Cookie until she accepts the relationship of her past to her present identity” (Bolton 31).
Memories seem to arise most often when her daughter, Nancy, reminds Cookie of her identity as a Mestizo woman. She is isolated from her daughter because of this rejection of her identity. Nancy hopes to become closer to her mother and learn about her life in Mexico and Cookie wants to tell her daughter of the discrimination that comes with being Mestizo, but they both end up pushing each other away.
If Cookie were to continue to spy on Joaquin and the families in her community and potentially aid in getting some of them deported, she would have destroyed their livelihoods and dreams, only to protect her own interests. “Cookie is Guerrero’s representative of the Mexican American who “others” Mexican immigrants, though she herself was an illegal immigrant at one time, dreaming of a better life and a home to call her own, she cannot stop until she feels protected in her identity as an American woman, until any sight of Mexico is obscured from her view and in extension removed from her identity (Bolton 31).

Timothy A. Clary/AFP/Getty Images
“More than 3.4 million undocumented immigrants are homeowners” (Marketplace).
Immigrants have set up roots in America by buying homes and establishing communities. However, for undocumented immigrants it is never certain where one will stay or even if it is possible to stay. “Owning a home is a “big dream” for […] immigrants when they come to this country” (Marketplace). “Even in expensive markets, you could see that immigrants were pooling their resources across legal statuses, across families, to make the American dream possible” (Marketplace). Owning a home gives a sense of stability and permanence in the country. This opportunity for stability and connection is what attracted Claudia, an undocumented immigrant brought to the U.S when she was a child, to buying a home with her husband. “I wanted to have something more stable for my son. Like a lot of my friends, they still have their memories or like their pictures, and I didn’t have that,” she said (Marketplace). Similarly, Cookie came to America to ensure a stable life for her children. She wanted to become a homeowner and live as a part of the middle-class to ensure that her children would not be servants like her.
When land is bought the person becomes a part of the greater history of that land and the culture of the U.S. They own a part of the land and have become integrated into the history of that land and, in a broader sense, the country. Homeownership can be a way for immigrants to establish a literal connection to a new country and form an identity in relation to that country.
“People don’t come to this country dreaming to be renters, they want to be able to have a little place to call their own”
Marisa Calderon, executive director of the National Association of Hispanic Real Estate Professionals
It is for this reason that families go to great pains to ensure that this dream of homeownership is achieved, often “even when someone is deported, the mortgage payment gets paid” (Marketplace). Many undocumented immigrants who are deported are Latino men with jobs, oftentimes these men contribute to a large part of their families’ income so, “for families that hold the bulk of their wealth in a home, that loss of an income can mean losing money for college or medical bills” (Marketplace). The effect of deportation is not only limited to that one family, it creates a ripple effect on “the rest of the community and on the economy” (Marketplace).

John Moore/Getty Images
Unfortunately, in Claudia’s case, she never fully was able to establish that sense of stability in America. Her husband was detained in 2005. “He lost his painting business,” with court bills and fees accumulating, they were unable to keep up with their mortgage payments and lost their home (Marketplace). Soon after, her husband was deported. Though he returned to America seeking political asylum, their home was gone. Suddenly, they were back at the beginning, living in the same small apartment they were in when they first got married. Their lives were uprooted, and their dreams were swiftly shattered.
““It was really hard for me last year when I turned 40,” she said. “It was like, I cannot believe I’ve been working hard my whole life, had dreams, and here I am at 40, starting all over again.” [Claudia] said she wonders where they’d be if they hadn’t lost their house” (Marketplace).
Pictures Cited:
Clary, Timothy A. “Home Ownership Is Part of the American Dream.” Marketplace, Marketplace, 11 Sept. 2017, https://www.marketplace.org/2017/09/11/american-dream-how-undocumented-immigrants-buy-homes-us/.
Milano, Johnny. “OCTOBER 5 2014- ‘Nailer’, Eyes the Hills with Binoculars in the Early Morning.” Johnny Milano, Johnny Milano Photographics, New York, https://www.johnnymilano.net/inthehillsofpima/gfz1k9hb550dqvku1vykj9eey9erd9.
Moore, John. “ Immigrant Services Staffer Lorely Peche (C), Speaks with Immigrant Parents Fearing Deportation on March 25, 2017 in Stamford, Connecticut. .” Marketplace, Marketplace, 10 Aug. 2017, https://www.marketplace.org/2017/08/10/little-noticed-effect-deportations-foreclosures/.