Cassie Holguin-Pettinato

​I am a fourth-generation resident of a small barrio, called La Calavera (The Skull), right on the U.S.-Mexico border. It is the last remaining neighborhood of El Paso’s historic Smeltertown, a residential community of more than 2,500 Mexican immigrants who built their lives on ASARCO land (American Smelting and Refining Company).

Growing up in La Calavera provided a secluded oasis for creativity and imagination. My love for reading and writing poetry started here, cradled in the womb of the desert. The Union Pacific railroad tracks are a few hundred yards west of my home and Smelter cemetery, where generations of smelter workers and their families are buried, is immediately to the east of it. [. . .] I love my home but it's a war zone. 

​My poetry and collage art explores the mixed feelings I have about living on the U.S.–Mexico border. Despite my family’s roots in El Paso, I’ve never felt completely connected to this city. I only speak a few words of Spanish. I know almost nothing of my indigenous (Kickapoo) ancestry. My poetry delves into personal and family wounds, traumas, and disconnections. It explores my longing to become close again to my estranged brother; it expresses unflattering truths about motherhood, postpartum depression, and living with chronic pain. Read more here!