In a shelter in Nogales, México, Wendy López Aguilar couldn’t sleep one night. Concerned with her young son in the hospital, she directed her emotional turmoil into stitching mermaid scales onto a manta, a decorative serving napkin.
Four years later, her mantas are on display at Chicago’s Casa de Cultura in their “Bordando Esperanza” exhibit, featuring mantas created by migrants in the U.S.-Mexico border. The exhibit is curated by Artisans Beyond Borders, an organization providing resources to migrant women to enable them to embroider mantas for financial support and emotional healing.
Valarie James, the founder of Artisans Beyond Borders, helped curate the exhibit. James volunteers at the border and in Tucson, Arizona, providing food, shelter and legal aid to asylum-seekers.
“When we would despair sometimes that we weren’t doing enough, I always remember this: poco a poco, just little by little,” James said. “I think about that with embroidery, because that’s the way it is. It’s like this, gentle, little by little.”
Embroidering her Journey to the U.S.
López is one of the many migrant artists featured in the exhibit. Her embroidery provided her with both economic support and art-based therapy during her journey to the U.S, she said.
Before migrating to the U.S., she recalls living in El Salvador, where gangs extorted her family, requiring them to pay them “rent” for their home and business. She says her family was charged exorbitant amounts in a very short period.
“They assaulted me when I was heading to the university. They took everything I had on me,” López said. “They said ‘this is a message to your family that we are not playing and we are very serious.’”=
López traveled to Mexico twice in order to seek asylum in the United States. The first time she was in the US, she was handed a deportation order.
“My grandfather didn’t drive me to my appointment, to my hearing with immigration,” she said. “This happens often to people who are migrating, who don’t have reliable transportation or people to help them and take them to their appointments.”
López was met with more obstacles the second time she returned to the border. Her entry into the U.S. was delayed because the border was closed due to COVID-19. During that time, her young son became ill and was hospitalized for 11 days. Throughout it all, López kept embroidering.
“Even on nights I couldn’t sleep, the embroidery was an opportunity for me…to relax myself, to heal during that really difficult time,” she said.
The mermaid she stitched onto her manta is one of her favorite embroidery projects, as it helped her cope while her son was in the hospital, López said.
“I embroidered scales on her entire tail…one by one,” she said. “I always want my bordados to be different. It’s very rare to see one of mine repeated.”
Resilience through art at the border
Artisans Beyond Borders and “Bordando Esperanza” are supported by La Casa de las Misericordia y Todas Naciones of Nogales, México, a migrant-run shelter headed in part by Sister Angélica Macias.
While in Nogales, López stayed at the shelter La Casa de las Misericordia y Todas Naciones, where she met Macias.
Together, Macias and James provided López and other migrants pre-made mantas and art supplies to begin their embroidery journeys.
“I began to see the physical, emotional and spiritual effects of embroidery on the lives of women who were staying at our shelter,” Macias said.
Since then, Macias’ program has housed a total of over 2,500 migrants and overseen programs relating to everything from trade and primary school, to community orchards. 88% of migrants that passed through the shelter arrived in the U.S. safely, according to La Casa de las Misericordia’s website.
“Valarie has never, never left me. She’s always held me by the hand,” López said of James.
“My life has changed a lot,” said López. “Through the whole process, God has allowed us to make it [to the U.S.], and ever since I’ve made it here this time, God has surrounded me with really wonderful people.”
López now works for Artisans Beyond Borders with James, serving as an associate administrator to bring the art of embroidery to migrants at the border and at Macias’ shelter in Nogales.
James recalls everything began after finding some mantas discarded at the border along with other personal materials and religious items left behind by asylum seekers on their journeys to the U.S.
“When we began to find these [embroidery pieces] in the desert, they just blew us away,” James said.
While some media outlets have called these mantas “migrant trash,” the stories behind them hold an abundance of life for the artists and those who view their art, James said.
“That just killed us… as residents of the border, as women. We began to bring this beauty in and protect and try to care for it, like the way we knew the women who made it would– and it grew into a collection,” James said.
The mantas on display in Chicago reflect the stories of the migrant women who made them, but also speak to some viewers on a personal level. Through this “humble craft,” asylum-seekers are given an outlet and a voice, López said.
López said she understands why many people don’t want to recall painful memories, but that sharing them is important in the healing process– this is why she hasn’t stopped embroidering.
“The women’s voices, these anonymous bordadoras, who made this beautiful work, their stories will never be known. They were forever silenced and left in the desert. Now …we get to actually give Wendy [López] a voice,” James said. “These women back there? They refuse to remain silent. Their voices are rising now to the surface, when finally, our culture is ready to hear it.”
