A poem from the Summer 2019 issue. Two decades later, I read they named themselvesfor Emmett Till. The idea of the name was basically that a 14-year-old boy should be swimming in the river, not dying in it.But they spelled his name wrong.  by Sandra Beasley | Jun, 2019

A feature from the Spring 2019 issue.  Hancock’s art, which includes paintings, fabricated toys, a theatrical performance, and a graphic novel, defies categorization and pulses with an almost religious intensity. Much of his work has followed the denizens of his alternate… by Trenton Doyle Hancock and Maurice Carlos Ruffin | Mar, 2019

 A Letter from the Editor, Summer 2019. At the Oxford American, we receive many pitches for stories in the category of “pilgrimages,” or “literary road trips,” or “retracing X’s steps.” I understand the appeal: the traveler can see with her… by Eliza Borné | Jun, 2019

A Points South essay from the Summer 2019 issue As an evangelist, I have showed “Miracles” to many people by lying about what it’s actually about. Generally, I describe it as a sort of joke, a curiosity. I don’t tell… by Jacob Rosenberg | Jun, 2019

A featured short story from the Spring 2019 issue. I understood that he had a crush on me, because there is no service that deserves a greater-than-one-hundred-percent gratuity, but the money seemed harmless when it came out of his wallet,… by Kevin Wilson | Mar, 2019

A Southern Journey from the Summer 2019 issue.  In the Tampa exurbs, splashed across the side of a half-occupied strip mall, is a vast mural depicting the Victorian art critic-cum-philosopher-cum-political economist-cum-painter-cum-social reformer John Ruskin. He gazes out at an expanse of… by Matthew Sherrill | Jun, 2019

A Points South essay from the Spring 2019 issue I hesitated at the sight of the banner so close to my home and was suddenly wary. Weary. I saw the flag and without thinking thought it code: Patriot. MAGA. Make… by Karen Good Marable | Mar, 2019

An Omnivore essay from the Spring 2019 issue.  Due to his health, Leon Redbone can no longer be interviewed. In a way, he’s become a version of the old-time musicians he so admired, about whom little is known: You can… by Megan Pugh | Mar, 2019

Stephanie Elizondo Griest

Stephanie Elizondo Griest is a native of South Texas and the author of Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana and Mexican Enough: My Life Between the Borderlines. She teaches creative nonfiction at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and blogs at www.mexicanenough.com. Her next book covers borderlands north and south.
September 05, 2013
The first thing Brooks County lead investigator Danny Davila wants to know is whether I have a weak stomach. He shows me pages from “the Dead Book”—inside are dozens of laminated photographs of the remains of the thirty-four undocumented immigrants who have died in the county’s scrub brush so far that year. Then, a rancher called in a Code 500; the thirty-fifth body of the year has been discovered. If my stomach is up to it, I can accompany Davila on the retrieval.
April 23, 2015

The voices of Norma Navarrete and Ana Laura Rojas personified the sadness of Jennifer Curtis’s violin as she arpeggiated the loss of human movement through her chord progressions. Impervious to any border, the music rose above the murmurings of conversations, the crush of the waves, the silence of the steel.

April 21, 2015

Certain sections of our border wall have become bi-national art spaces. Politicians plaster campaign posters; immigrants inscribe their names, home villages, and dates of crossing. Muralists and graffiti artists layer image upon image.