A provocative, personal, blazingly intelligent examination of one of the most vexing questions facing the United States Who is, and should be, a citizen?
“How did ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free’ turn upside down to where we are today? Everyone needs to read this book, citizens and non-citizens alike. Brilliant!”—Sandra Cisneros
“The most comprehensive book on citizenship/immigration I’ve ever read. A must-read!”—Javier Zamora
“The book I have always wanted to read.”—Jose Antonio Vargas “Personal, profound, engaging, and comprehensive . . . this is an essential book for these contentious times.”—Booklist (starred review)
In this one-of-a-kind book, Daisy Hernández fiercely interrogates one of the most complicated subjects of contemporary life and citizenship. Braiding memoir, history, and cultural criticism, she exposes the truths and lies of how we define ourselves as a country and a people. Turning to her own family’s stories—her mother arrived from Colombia, while her father was a political refugee from Castro’s Cuba—Hernández shows how the very idea of citizenship is a myth, one of the stories we tell ourselves about the American soul and psyche.
Reframing our understanding of what it means to be an American, Citizenship is an urgent and necessary account of the laws, customs, and language we use to include and exclude, especially those who come from Latin America. With her scholar’s mind and memoirist’s gift for narrative, Hernández weaves a story both personal and national, while reckoning with our country’s ongoing debate about who belongs and providing fresh ways of thinking about citizenship. At once bracing, fearless, and tender, Citizenship is a powerful portrait of one family’s experiences in the borderlands of citizenship and an honest illumination of the country in which we live.
Daisy Hernández is the author of the nonfiction book Citizenship: Notes on an American Myth, which Booklist calls “an essential book for these contentious times.” Her nonfiction book The Kissing Bug: A True Story of a Family, an Insect, and a Nation’s Neglect of a Deadly Disease won the 2022 PEN /Jean Stein Book Award and was selected as an inaugural title for the National Book Foundation’s Science + Literature Program. She is the author of the memoir A Cup of Water Under My Bed and coeditor of the feminist anthology Colonize This! She is an Associate Professor at Northwestern University.
A personal narrative that is rooted in sociology, data, local stories, and a firsthand account of the immigrant experience. This is Daisy’s story, but it is also about the history of a push for whiteness in America. A full-scale analysis of the way the American dream harms the lives of many non-white Americans. What does it mean to be a citizen of the United States beyond a social construct? A well researched, annotated and constructively written narrative for 2026. There are boundaries drawn with imaginary lines to decide who gets to decipher the breadth of citizenship within the quarters. Citizenship would not be inherently harmful if it meant inclusivity for all. Daisy dissects the whiteness plague that permeates as the norm for being a model citizen in America. This is a story that challenges the status quo with real data and sociological perspectives. A fantastic read to understand what it means to abide by harmful social constructs. Thank you, Daisy Hernández, Netgalley, and Hogarth publishing for this advanced digital copy. All opinions are my own. For more recommendations, impressions, and tarot readings, visit my blog, http://brujerialibrary.wordpress.com
The author explores the concept of citizenship and how it has morphed with time and world and domestic events. She focuses on how the US has viewed citizenship, its corresponding laws, and why they were enacted. Her writing style is engaging because she combines her personal experience and others’ anecdotes with facts and historical events. For example, Hernandez is the daughter of a Colombian mother and Cuban father, and she continuously explains the challenges and opportunities her parents and other family members faced as immigrants who eventually became citizens of the United States. I found the book to be interesting, informative, and engaging.
Thank you Random House and NetGalley for the Advanced Reader's Copy!
Available February 2026.
Daisy Hernandez's Citizenship is an intriguing and moving exploration of what the term means politically, personally, socially, and more. The book ties Hernandez's personal life story with larger sociopolitical movements and policies. Hernandez makes a compelling case that the concept citizenship has always been a transient goalpost and has been weaponized in the United States to harm Black and brown communities. Hernandez doesn't shy away from the complications of "white" Latinidad and the growing community of Latinx MAGA supporters, she tells their stories with equal parts of care and curiosity, while still holding space for the harm created. Strongly recommend!!
I want to give this book to every single human to read. Daisy turns complex topics into such an accessible and important piece of literature.This book is a perfect blend of facts and statistics to root us in reality, and personal elements and stories that give it heart and humanity. Love love love
Citizenship is Daisy Hernandez’s exploration of how we perceive the way we and others belong and are accepted into various groups, though primarily as desired members of a country, and most specifically the United States.
In a country that seems to increasingly seem intolerant of people that could be deemed other, the book is certainly timely. Hernandez focuses most heavily on the immigrant throughout the book but also emphasizes that things that we self categorize are factors too.
I like the idea of exploring this and there are parts of the book that were enlightening and conveyed the strongest message to me. The differences between how a person identifies themselves and how society does can be completely different. Hernandez writes about Latinx as a demographic that can encompass people that look very different from each other but share values. Hernandez uses a poignant example of having a boy visit her at home that was Dominican, and it enraged her Cubano father who looked white because he saw the boy as Black. The boy was hurt and confused because he saw himself as Dominican and would not have described himself as Black, a racial group that still struggles against discrimination to this day.
Hernandez also provides a great explanation for something that continues to confound me, which is why people vote for and support political and public figures that would happily have nothing to do with them or show them the metaphorical door. I tend to think from the perspective of that person and whether they would have my best interests in mind, not as an ideal or someone who be so focused on targeting others that I wouldn’t be of interest to them. Despite being frustrating from my view, and quite likely not in their best interests, it explains a lot.
Hernandez explains that citizenship as a construct is not limited to legal status in a country but can also be defined in ways such as politically, economically, socially and culturally.
There were bigs sections of the book that I struggled to get into. I’m not sure if the intended audience is people that have felt left out of a type of citizenship and validating their experiences or raising awareness in those that never or rarely have those experiences. I would say that I fall more into the latter category, but I think Hernandez kind of wrote it for both, which left me struggling to follow the train of thought, especially at the start of the book. There are swings back and forth between personal anecdotes, research by subject matter experts and historical precedents set.
One of the forms of citizenship Hernandez addresses is that for queer people, a group of people who Hernandez identifies with. This absolutely makes sense and provides valuable perspective, but the chapter takes up almost a quarter of the book, making the chapter feel like a slog to get through in comparison to the length of the other chapters, and perhaps assigning a heavier weight to addressing it.
Non-fiction books addressing contemporary and social issues are in a difficult position of raising awareness without superiority. I think Hernandez mostly succeeds in accomplishing this but I struggled to engage and be interested, which is another vital factor in getting people to read non-fiction. I think citizenship and what it means is a valuable thing to discuss, but I struggled to engage with how it was presented throughout portions of this book.
A complimentary copy of this book was provided by the publisher. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
Daisy Hernández’s Citizenship: Notes on American Myth eviscerates the idea that citizenship is a neutral or stable status.
After all, status implies hierarchy, and hierarchy precludes neutrality.
Citizenship is a perfect book for anybody who would insist that people immigrate “the right way” because, as the author explores, there is no “right way” for the “wrong people.” Early on, she notes that “the construct of citizenship does the work of race,” and that could almost be the book’s thesis. It's a polite and palatable way to create an "other." Drawing on both personal and cultural history, Hernández explores how the notion of citizenship is slippery because it changes each time “us and them” needs to be redefined for political purposes. She considers all of the ways colorism, wealth, gender, and sexuality influence someone’s eligibility for citizenship, often highlighting a disconnect between legal status and social status. Does paperwork matter if perception doesn’t change?
These aren’t new ideas, but Hernández frames them in uniquely approachable and personal terms, so the material is well-equipped to rebut readers who hide behind the callous safety of their political talking points. When the author explores how much immigration is a reaction to colonialism, the point feels intuitive and earned. Of course someone would seek out the stability of life in the United States, even when—maybe especially when—the US is responsible for the instability in their home country. As she writes, “The worst moments inside the empire were better than those at the edges.”
I’ve seen a fair amount of criticism that Hernández "doesn’t write objectively,” and frankly, I’m a bit baffled by it. First, the book is well-sourced when it needs to be, and second, the author’s whole premise is that citizenship is not an objective reality—it’s a story of competing subjectivities shaped by whoever has the most power at a given time. It exists only in flux. Why would you ask someone to write “empirically” under the shadow of the empire?
That said, I don’t think Citizenship is without its weaknesses, slight as they may be. For the most part, Hernández does an excellent job of synthesizing all of the ways life “on paper” doesn’t align with reality, but the last few chapters don’t quite get the cohesion they deserve. For example, “Queer Kin” attempts to situate queerness within the concept of citizenship, but it feels muddled in whether it’s about mainstream social citizenship, legal citizenship, or immigration. It almost feels like the start of a separate book that would serve as a companion piece to Citizenship. Similarly, the final chapter, “The People,” spirals chaotically through dual citizenship, social mobility, the cost of citizenship, and the early days of Trump’s second term. Again, it’s engaging material, but the lack of focus obscures its purpose.
Overall, though, Citizenship is an exceptional read, and it’s the kind of book that shouldn’t have to exist. It’s timely, thought-provoking, and a reminder that if you see politics as cut and dried, you’re probably the one holding the knife.
This book, to me, felt different than how it is marketed and confused me at first. I had expected more of a scholarly look at citizenship and the myths around it in the U.S., as it’s a relevant issue yet one that so few Americans truly understand. But, this book is more a memoir of the author’s and her reflection on the concept of citizenship and experiences related to immigration of her family and as a general issue. Into that, she throws in random research and facts. Often she presents her own opinion on things and leaves it there. While I agreed on what her opinions were and have the same, I had expected to see research and analysis that backed it up. She mentioned at one point the concept of removing birthright citizenship retroactively and identified one country that did so. I was very interested in this topic considering the current administration’s desire to start doing this, but this was another topic where she mentioned a country that had done it but then failed to follow it up with further analysis of the outcome and implications which I thought had been the point of bringing it up.
Looking at this book through the lens of it being the author’s own reflections made it better. It still seemed a bit unorganized at times, and it seemed to lack an overarching message that tied everything together except for the concept that citizenship is a social construct. This was challenging for me to process, again maybe because when I went into this I was thinking of the concrete concept of how people gain citizenship in the U.S. But the idea of it as a construct was interesting and, along with other concepts, I did find things to mull over in this book. Specifically, I found myself spending time on the concept of statelessness which I hadn’t thought much about before and of how healthcare is tied to degrees of “citizenship”.
I found myself extremely frustrated with her depictions of certain family members who are not/ were not citizens but who support the current administration. Calling it irony, especially in today’s landscape, is a massive understatement. While I’m glad she shared these stories for the purpose of helping us understand how closeness to whiteness and to the patriarchy impacted these individuals, I just found those stories to be so irredeemable and would have liked some type of follow up in terms of points of argument, maybe, since there was apparently no change or realizations in the people depicted. Instead, I left with validation of frustration that I already had.
The word “citizenship” is used throughout this book but it’s not used in the concrete sense. This book is the author’s reflections on her interpretations of what citizenship is. I thought the topic was interesting, and I might recommend it to someone who is looking to read different experience and perspectives of it. But this would not be for someone looking for a more academic piece or to explore the issues of it within our country today.
Citizenship: An American Myth is part memoir, part examination of citizenship history in the US. Overall, it’s easy reading with a nice balance of personal experience, family history, and the politicization of citizenship over time.
Fernandez starts the book sharing history of borders and early citizenship laws. How citizenship really became code for racism and the US has used it to keep swaths of people outside its borders. I am relatively uninformed in this area, so this was all new and fascinating to me. I’m not sure if it would be as eye-opening for everyone.
“‘Once decolonization is a success, you don’t need to be racist anymore, because the majority of those whom you didn’t want to see because of their race acquire a different citizenship,’ Kochenov said. ‘So what you do is simply compile a list of all those passports and say the guys with these passports will not be able to enter. So then citizenship plays fundamentally the racist function which used to be reserved for special race-based exceptions in U.S. law.’”
Daisy Fernandez is a Cuban-Colombian-American, born and raised in a Union City, NJ, majority Latinx neighborhood. As I mentioned, her story and those of her parents, cousins, aunts and uncles are interwoven throughout the broader context.
From an early age, Fernandez was aware her skin was too dark for her family that strongly identified as white. One of the topics Fernandez covers is how Latinx US citizens rationalize political issues that others might see as counter to their best interests because of a need to reinforce racist hierarchies, of which these white Latinx sit nearer the top than their black Latinx counterparts. I found this insightful, as someone who has long been befuddled by the Hispanics for Trump movement.
Overall, Citizenship is an interesting read on an increasingly relevant topic. I gave it only three stars because some of it meandered and dragged for me. I recommend it, especially if you’re interested in a personal perspective on a sociopolitical issue.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
“I also learned that healthcare was not like the rights I was learning about in social studies class: the right to vote or to practice the religion of my choice. A terrible thing could happen to my face or to that woman in the clinic’s corridor, and our fellow Americans would do nothing unless they felt sorry for us. What kind of citizenship let you turn into a reptile? I began to suspect that my teachers and the textbooks had lied to me. All men were not created equal. Some men—and twelve-year-old girls—had access to healthcare, and some did not. It was what the British sociologist T. H. Marshall called social citizenship.”
“‘The people voting this way were, in fact, voting their interests.’ It just happened to be that their interests were in maintaining a racial hierarchy for the privileges it offers them.”
Ironic Downfall. Seriously, how much more ironic can you get than a book about citizenship being felled by... *a lack of documentation*????
To be clear, there are *many* more issues with this book. The biggest being that it is marketed as a critical and intellectual examination of the concept of citizenship (which is intriguing and deserves to be written about)... and instead what we actually get is a racist memoir that openly proclaims that the entire concept of citizenship was created whole cloth in the US in the 19th century to keep the brown person down and give the evil white man a way to exclude brown people while claiming to be objective. Seriously.
Now, maybe that last bit is something you tend to agree with. Even there, you should be pissed off at this book because it doesn't even begin to try to objectively make this case. Further, when you make an extraordinary claim such as what this book proposes, the Sagan Standard applies and extraordinary evidence is expected - yet there is next to no documentation, clocking in at just 8% of the Advance Review Copy that I've had for four months before finally reading it just weeks before publication.
All of this noted, it actually was rather intriguing as a personal memoir of one person's thoughts and experiences on the subject at hand. So yes, *as a personal memoir*, this book works much better than as any form of objective intellectual endeavor, and from the memoir angle it really is a compelling read of one person's thoughts.
But that's not what this is being marketed as, at least at this stage. At this stage, it is being marketed as much as a scholarly work as memoir, and as a scholarly work this book utterly fails in every conceivable respect.
Still, read this book as a memoir. Please. Hernandez has a clear and rare voice, and her story needs to be heard. I just wish she had put as much effort into integrating it into an actual objective examination of the topic as she did in expressing how evil the white man is.
Daisy Hernández takes a complicated subject and tries to make sense of it.
She started writing stories about citizenship when she was six years old. Much of the book is in the form of a memoir where she shares her personal experiences growing up in the early 80s with a father from Cuba who escaped when Castro took power and mother from Columbia who left her country hoping for a better life.
She touches on the history of US government in the 1800s with restrictive citizenship laws for Blacks, Native Americans and Asians. Then in the 1900s, the US government meddled in politics of certain areas of South America causing violence. In current times, Hernández dealt with topics such as birthright citizenship, dual citizenship, gerrymandering, healthcare for noncitizens, queer citizenship, census accuracy and millionaire migrants.
Albert Einstein said, “The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don’t know.” This is how I felt reading this book with an expansion of awareness with citizenship. Yet, I was left with the frustration of the complications within the system. I learned from her stories, extensive research, court cases, notes from legal scholars and documents. However, the material was part history, part personal but at times I lost interest with how it was organized.
Hernández also shared her righteous political views especially at the end. Her final thoughts revealed how she understands how speaking out with strong left-wing politics can be risky but she said it’s important to speak up right now. The question is: what does it actually means to be a US citizen?
My thanks to Hogarth and NetGalley for the advanced copy of this book with the expected release date of February 17, 2026. The views I share are my own.
Ways of identification can help with belonging or serve as rallying cries for both good or ill. Much like the creation of race, the idea of citizenship is a socially created construct whose value and meaning can be taken many ways. In Citizenship: Notes on an American Myth, Daisy Hernández, an editor, journalist and author, expands on the conception and examines the meaning of citizenship through her own and her family's immigration experience alongside relevant periods or writings from American history.
Hernández was born in America to an exiled Cuban father and an immigrant Colombian mother. Through her and their experiences she has learned the luck involved in getting citizenship as well as how attitudes about immigrants fluctuate over time, often going through surges of exclusion before shifts to more openness. The conception of citizenship has always been political and is detailed fully, from the origins of the United States and how the meaning has changed and grown more broad than just white wealthy men.
The value of this work is that Hernández can really explore this discussion from a very intersectional viewpoint, she is the child of immigrant, a Queer Latina and cultural activist. Illuminating for both the history of citizenship in the US as the troubling commonalities or lack of them that could exist in one's own family. One chapter looks at the viewpoint of an Uncle who's experience shows that they feel the killing or removing by other means of dissidents is necessary for stability.
Recommended to readers of contemporary issues, memoirs or political concepts.
I received a free digital version of this book via NetGalley thanks to the publisher.
ARC review; thanks to Random House and Hogarth for sending this ebook to my inbox and thanks to NetGalley. Pub date: Feb 17, 2026.
This was a great nonfiction read about not only this author's and her family's immigrant experience, but also about the ever-evolving meaning of citizenship and the history of it in the U.S. Every chapter is an essay blending personal stories and perspectives with historical facts about immigration and citizenship that are very sobering. This is, of course, super timely in the U.S. and I recommend checking this book out.
I had no idea there were so many kind of citizenship in the U.S. and how much of a social construct the concept is, and how much it has varied depending on the white people in power. I did know, however, that it has been weaponized and used as a cloak for racism, and this book explores that. It provides a lot of good information and it could've been very dense, but it wasn't. I really liked the author's writing style and voice, and how she constantly keeps humanity at the forefront by showing how the different stories told around citizenship have affected and still affect real people.
I do have to say that, while reading this, I was a little worried about the lack of footnotes. I understand this is a memoir/essay collection, but when you talk about hard facts, stats, etc., it's important to show your sources and I thought it was strange not to. Fortunately, the author does provide a breakdown of every source for every essay at the end of the book.
Hernández describes this book as creative nonfiction in the author's note, and I'd just describe it as a must-read. I enjoyed this thoroughly.
One thing I'm looking for in nonfiction is information that's new to me, and I got a lot of that here, especially when it comes to how citizenship has been managed historically and in locations outside of the U.S. For a number of reasons connected to my personal and professional life, modern citizenship status in the U.S. is topic that's on my mind constantly. I'm really looking forward to not only having more robust conversations with others based what I ascertained from this read but also to continuing to better understand what folks are going through in various stages of this process.
Hernández personalizes the topic by incorporating memories, details, and enhancements of her own experiences, and as is so often the case, this makes a challenging topic even more compelling and engaging. I really enjoyed the intersectional inclusions, too.
This is a great read and I expect I'll have many opportunities to recommend it in my day to day. I'll also look forward to more from this author who left a positive first impression on me to be sure!
*Special thanks to NetGalley and Will Lyman at Random House, Hogarth, and Dial for this widget, which I received in exchange for an honest review. The opinions expressed here are my own.
I received an eARC of this book from NetGalley and the publisher, for which I thank them.
“Citizenship” is a non-fiction book by Daisy Hernandez. This book is part memoir and part non-fiction about citizenship in the US - and what citizenship, in general, means. I found the memoir parts of this book really interesting - I liked reading about Ms. Hernandez’s personal story a lot, it read real (which I know, memoirs are). Where this book lost me a bit was regarding some of the … discussions and observations presented in the book. This book is presented as “notes on the American Myth,” but it spends a lot of time discussing citizenship to groups of people who might feel left out of being a “citizen” of the “typical” norms in a society (such as being queer in an overall group that isn’t always accepting). Ms. Hernandez explains different types of citizenship (legal status, political, economic, and culture) but sometimes she seemed stuck in the examples to explain her definitions that I felt bogged down reading it all. I didn’t see many (any?) footnotes for some of the facts and figures she cited, hunting through sources online (thank you AI for your assistance) sometimes felt like a slog too in uncovering sources and reading through them. I think if you pick up this book as one for the memoir, you’ve got a fantastic and fascinating one to read. If you pick it up to know more about citizenship in the US, it’s not as solidly enjoyable a read.
I just saw a headline about how the DHS now claims to have the authority to arrest refugees in the United States if they haven't yet gotten their green card. I saw the headline about 2 minutes after finishing Citizenship, which centers the idea (well, the fact) that citizenship and borders are made up to maintain power, at the expense of the vulnerable.
Hernández writes concisely and descriptively, intertwining stories from her own family, history, and other humans' experiences. At times it can feel very sad, because it talks about people voting against their best interests because they view it as the way that would get them closer to what they want-by upholding some white supremacy, they keep themselves closer to its privileges, even though political promises are hollow and it ends up negatively affecting the greater minority community. Also, it is heavy to see the racism contained in nonwhite races for Black people, Indigenous, and others. But it's a fact of our life, and these stories were very eye-opening.
In conclusion, I loved it. This is a must-read, and is not very long, so it isn't a big time-taker. I really appreciate the ideas that were presented in this one.
Thought‑provoking, accessible and quietly devastating, Citizenship digs beneath the feel‑good language we use about belonging in the United States and reveals the exclusions baked into it. I really appreciated how Hernández blends history, legal analysis, and personal narrative - the mix kept the book engaging while still grounded in research.
What stood out most to me was how uniquely positioned Hernández is to tell this story. Her own family is a kind of racial and political “surprise mix” like a bag of caramel and cheddar popcorn. She uses her family and personal vantage point to show how citizenship lands differently depending on skin color, gender, orientation, and where you live. The connections she makes between policy decisions and everyday life helped me re-frame familiar debates in a new way.
Highly recommend if you’re interested in immigration, race, and the stories we tell about being “American,” and you’re willing to sit with some discomfort and complexity.
Citizenship is a collection of essays regarding the concept of citizenship, written by the child of immigrants. The author does a fabulous job of integrating numerous areas of study in regards to citizenship, and she makes numerous points that will have you rethinking how you see (or don't see) the borders of our current world. She examines citizenship from both a historical and sociological perspective, and includes conversations regarding race, gender, and queerness. Using her own stories as a jumping off point, the points made by Hernandez throughout could easily be expanded upon or applied to other scenarios. This book will be a great addition to many scholars and academics!
Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
This book was an interesting and timely read on citizenship. The author Daisy blends both personal experience, research, and history on this topic. I enjoyed all the personal stories and information thrown in, which kept this book from reading too much like a textbook. At times, the book did feel like it jumped around a little bit too much, making me question the purpose of this book and the audience it was trying to reach. But, overall an informative and compelling read on what it means to be a citizen, and some thoughts on how we can move forward from where we find ourselves now. I received an ARC, and this is my honest review.
"We belong to the stories we tell. We belong to the stories we scribe about democracy and authoritarianism, about borders and neighbors, about love and grief and one another. In the end, we only truly belong to one another, and this was worth sharing and celebrating, no matter the cost." This is an extremely timely and informative account of the meaning of citizenship in the US. Hernández argues that citizenship is fabricated as a replacement term for race and class. Highly recommend for anyone who wants to dive deeper into what's going on in the US right now. Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC!
A thought provoking read about citizenship and how politics, social norms, ethnicity and country of origin impact who gets to be a citizen. Also provides information on how changing the way people are categorized affects collection of information for government purposes. The information on how the question of who deserves to be a citizen has impacted the author's and family's life. #Citizenship #RandomHouse #Hogarth #NetGalley
"Citizenship has always been bound to race, to gender, to sexuality, to the ways that others make of our bodies a text, a document read according to a vocabulary created by a small group of people we never met."
Personal and powerful narrative on Citizenship from the author of the kissing bug and a cup of water under my bed: a memoir.
I received an ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
This work of creative nonfiction is timely. Hernandez weaves together historical analysis and memoir to explore the different ways American citizenship is perceived, practiced, and shifted. Each essay is well-researched and well-written, making this a moving read.
A lot of interesting information about laws and history related to immigration. Unfortunately there is no organization or cohesive approach to presenting the information. I really wanted to like this. Thank you NetGalley for the ARC.