Nobody Should Be Persecuted Because of the People They Choose To Love
A review of ‘The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants’ by Orlando Ortega-Medina
I remember sitting in the office of an immigration lawyer as my wife awaited her civics test. I wasn’t allowed to go in with her, and I was concerned the USCIS Officer might decide to mark correct answers wrong just to ruin our lives.
He had that power.
Too often people assume the existence of fair play when there’s strong evidence to suggest fairness is the exception rather than the rule. I once had a conversation with the wife of an embassy employee. She laughed at how the USCIS Officer had bent over backwards to make the process easier for her.
I didn’t think it was funny. People with connections are often indifferent to the struggles of anyone who doesn’t share their level of privilege. I didn’t appreciate hearing an anecdote about how easy it was to bend the rules. If the rules can be bent to make the process easier for one candidate, that implied it could be made more difficult for others.
The presence of the lawyer greatly appeased my concerns. He’d be there to advocate for my wife, and he helped keep me grounded during the uncertainty.
As I looked around the waiting room, it was clear that not everybody had the advantage of a lawyer.
These and other memories came back as I read The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants by Orlando Ortega-Medina. The older I get, the more I’ve begun to appreciate the genuine slices of life you find in small press books. Orlando Ortega-Media is himself an immigration lawyer, and this book provides a fascinating insight into the day-to-day reality of practicing that kind of law.
But that’s just the start of what makes this a compelling read.
I don’t mean to suggest that this is a dry legal drama. Law is a backdrop, but the storytelling isn’t bogged down by legal procedures. Instead, the reader receives a nice insight into the daily routine and stresses a lawyer might face as he navigates personal and professional issues.
The writing is very precise without any exercises in self-indulgence. I admired the way the writing does not become a distraction. The focus is on clear communication, and it draws you in.
The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants has a “fly on the wall” element that’s deeply engrossing. It’s as if you’re allowed a sneak peek at intimate moments that feel deeply authentic.
With the increase in hostility that has been directed at immigrants lately, I think it’s very important to explore the realities of the immigration process.
Ignorant, hateful people are too often indifferent to the hardships that arise as a result of their beliefs.
I’ve always been mindful that the study of law is different than, for example, the study of the physical universe. The rules of law are a human creation. Human beings therefore have the power to change legal reality.
We have the power to eliminate a lot of needless trauma. Unfortunately, there seems to be a concerted effort to add more suffering rather than ease the burden.
Another theme of this book is the systemic oppression faced by same-sex couples. That theme, too, brought back some memories for me.
I met my wife when I was living in Lima, Peru. We were both teachers at a private school. While we were there, one of our fellow teachers made national headlines for being a groom in one of the country’s first same sex marriages.
When the news broke at the school, he was escorted off the property and asked never to return.
That was a long time ago, and I’m not sure how open the country is to same sex unions today. At the time, same sex unions were also prohibited in the United States. In 2015, the right to same-sex marriages became the law of the land. Recently, there has been an unfortunate trend of renewed hostility towards the LGBTQ community.
I know from firsthand experience what an awful feeling it is to be confronted with a government that seems to disapprove of the person you choose to love. I was married in Peru and I went through the immigration process with my wife. We were fortunate that we didn’t run into any adversity, but it’s an enormously stressful undertaking.
Knowing that reality, I can only imagine how stressful the process must be for same sex couples.
There are groups in the United States that claim they stand for “the sanctity of marriage,” but really that phrase is often used to disguise a philosophy of bigotry and hatred. Imagine how you would feel if somebody tried to deny you the right to marry or even live in the same country as the person you loved.
The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants walks you through many troubling scenarios same sex couples must face. Reading this book is a way to achieve some much needed understanding.
One thing that my immigration lawyer said was that marriage doesn’t guarantee citizenship for your spouse, it only guarantees you the right to apply for citizenship. Among those that adhere to the anti-immigrant agenda are some that want to strip all Americans of the right to same-sex marriage. I suspect they are motivated by closing up another potential pathway to citizenship for individuals who have been unfairly persecuted throughout the world.
It’s disheartening to observe the commitment to malice that often arises when an individual refuses to expel hatred from his/her own heart. It’s valuable to read stories that expose the consequences of these mechanisms of oppression.
The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants is set in San Francisco in the 1990s. It follows the story of attorney Marc Mendes as he struggles to save his partner Isaac Perez from deportation. The situation becomes further complicated by a seductive client named Alejandro Silva.
This is a novel about personal and professional relationships in the face of various forms of intolerance and oppression. It’s probably fair to say this book is intended for a mature audience, but I wouldn’t prohibit my children from reading it if they were interested.
I thought the writing was clear, effective, and pleasant. The dialogue is engaging and believable. The storytelling provides an orderly perspective. This isn’t a book that “sweeps you away” by subjecting to you passionate rushes of emotion. I admired the focus on the intellect. The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants is compelling because it’s fair, honest, and authentic.
It would be nice if society evolved to the point where everyone recognized a love story doesn’t change just because the characters involved both have traditionally male or traditionally female names. What does change is the nature of the obstacles that confront them, but the place from which they gather the necessary strength to overcome these obstacles remains the same.
The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants is an important book because it helps bring attention to the struggles people face which our society is inclined to overlook. We spend far too much time and energy manufacturing artificial problems for people. We’d all benefit if our resources were spent on more productive efforts. This is a book that highlights the things all human beings have in common.
If everyone had to experience the hostility directed at a loved one because of the flawed immigration process, we’d have a better immigration process.
If everyone had to experience the hostility of bigotry directed at a loved one based on sexual orientation, that hostility, too, would be eliminated.
The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants managed to tap into my personal experiences to provide valuable insight into the challenges faced by innocent groups which are currently under attack.
Indifference is the problem.
Anything that helps strengthen a human connection makes it impossible to remain indifferent. We need more books like this.
The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants
Now some words from Orlando Ortega-Medina on his newest novel:
“At the Margins of Belonging: Queer Immigrant Narratives in Emerald Road”
By Orlando Ortega-Medina
Stories have the power to challenge societal norms and expand our understanding of humanity, and few narratives achieve this as effectively as those centering marginalized voices. As the child of immigrants, I’ve long been drawn to stories of individuals wrestling with questions of belonging, identity, and self-acceptance. These struggles are universal, yet for queer immigrants, they come with unique layers of complexity. My latest novel, Emerald Road, is an exploration of this intersection—a deeply personal story inspired by two journeys: my own experience of navigating identity and my partner’s flight from El Salvador during the Salvadoran Civil War in the 1980s.
Growing up, I often felt caught between worlds—seen as a foreigner by my schoolmates despite being culturally American, while at home, my parents’ immigrant values often clashed with my sense of self. Later, as I came to terms with my queerness, I faced yet another challenge: navigating a society that frequently demanded I prioritize one aspect of my identity over another. My partner’s story brought another layer of understanding: the immense courage it takes to leave everything familiar behind in search of freedom and safety. Together, these experiences shaped the emotional heart of Emerald Road.
At the center of the novel is Isaac Perez, a young Salvadoran refugee uprooted by the brutality of the Salvadoran Civil War. Forced to flee his homeland, Isaac embarks on a perilous journey to the United States, confronting both external dangers and the internal turmoil of reconciling his queerness with cultural expectations. For Isaac, survival is not simply about escaping violence—it is about reclaiming his identity and finding a sense of belonging in a world that often denies him both.
This dual alienation—being marginalized both for one’s immigrant status and queerness—lies at the emotional core of Emerald Road. Isaac’s bond with his dog, Ahbhu, offers him solace in moments of despair. More than just a loyal companion, Ahbhu represents unconditional love and connection, anchoring Isaac to his humanity and reminding him of the resilience that drives him forward.
Isaac’s encounters with others, such as Suchi, a fierce advocate for LGBTQ migrants, and Diego, a beacon of hope, highlight the importance of community in the process of self-discovery. These relationships underscore a central theme: that belonging is often forged in shared experiences of survival and resistance, even when it feels out of reach.
Queer immigrant narratives are still underrepresented in literature, but they are vital to expanding our understanding of what it means to belong. Historically, such stories were often hidden or muted. In Gloria Anzaldúa’s Borderlands/La Frontera, for instance, the exploration of queer identity is interwoven with cultural displacement, but it remains a largely subtle undercurrent. Contemporary works like Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous or Monique Truong’s The Book of Salt have begun to address these themes more openly, offering nuanced portrayals of the intersection between queerness and migration. In writing Emerald Road, I wanted to add to this growing canon by exploring the tension and transformation that occur when individuals are forced to navigate conflicting worlds.
Isaac’s story is one of survival, but it is also one of defiance. By the end of the novel, he evolves from a timid boy haunted by trauma into a determined young man who stands up to the forces that have sought to erase him. Figures like El Garrobo, a ruthless people smuggler, and Officer Vasquez, a U.S. border agent who abuses his power, are initially symbols of fear. Yet Isaac’s ability to confront these oppressors becomes a testament to the strength it takes to live authentically.
As global refugee crises escalate and LGBTQ+ individuals continue to face persecution worldwide, stories like Isaac’s take on greater urgency. Queer immigrant narratives remind us that migration is not merely a political issue; it is deeply personal. For many, the immigrant journey is as much about seeking safety and freedom as it is about finding the courage to embrace one’s true self.
Fiction has the power to foster empathy by offering readers a window into experiences far removed from their own. Through Isaac’s journey in Emerald Road, I hope to shine a light on the humanity and determination of queer immigrants—individuals who defy the odds simply by existing. These stories matter because they challenge us to rethink our understanding of belonging, identity, and survival. At a time when both queer and immigrant communities face mounting challenges, sharing these narratives becomes an act of resistance.
Emerald Road is not just a story about navigating borders—it is about crossing the internal boundaries we impose on ourselves and others. Isaac’s journey asks readers to consider what it means to live authentically when the world seeks to marginalize you. It is my hope that his story will inspire others to embrace the intersections of their own identities, knowing that living truthfully is a radical act of courage.
Orlando Ortega-Medina was born in Los Angeles to Latin American immigrants and studied English Literature at UCLA before earning a Juris Doctor from Southwestern University School of Law. His works include Jerusalem Ablaze, which was shortlisted for the UK’s Polari First Book Prize, and The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants, also shortlisted for the Polari Prize and featured on the Today Show’s "36 new books we can't wait to read in 2023" list. Ortega-Medina currently resides in London, where he practices U.S. immigration law and continues to write fiction.
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This is such a timely and pertinent subject. On the eve of Trumps unnerving inaugural, this common sense approach to people who have been persecuted , is especially apt.
Demonizing any group , in this country , is especially disconcerting as we were begun as a nation of emigrants.
We were begun in a fashion of welcome and idealism that it appears we have left behind . We now leave that welcome and turn to bigotry and separation, spurning love and inclusion.
This is a tragedy. For all of us . And all those who we might have welcomed.
My cousin David was gay. He had an amazing partner. My Uncle M.. was not welcoming once his only child told him that he was gay. My cousin was an amazing gifted artist. He was also a very sweet and very soft spoken soul. My uncle was not. My cousin was tall dark hair 1/2 Hawaiian and 1/2 white. His Mother was tall and fun and very kind ..my uncle was short with a serious small man complex attitude.. he had numerous affairs and my Uncle would berate his son and eventually put him into a conversion therapy hospital.. all of this destroyed my Auntie then my lovely cousin contacted AIDS ( this was in the early 80’s) and finally passed a few years later. They never divorced and now she’s in a nursing home and at least that AHole visits her every day.. but personally I’ll never forgive him