What do you think?
Rate this book
We Were Illegal: Uncovering a Texas Family's Mythmaking and Migration
An award-winning author's deep exploration of pivotal moments in Texas history through multiple generations of her own family, and a ruthless reexamination of our national and personal myths
Over seven generations, Jessica Goudeau’s family members were church elders, preachers, Sunday school teachers and potluck organizers. Her great-grandfather helped establish a Christian university in Abilene, Texas, which she attended along with her grandparents, parents, siblings, and cousins. Her family's legacy--a word she heard often growing up--was rooted in faithfulness, righteousness, and the hard work that built the great state of Texas. It wasn’t until she began to dig more deeply into the story of the land she lives on today in suburban Austin, that she discovered her family’s far more complicated role in Texas history, from early illegal settlements on Mexican land, bringing slavery to the state, up through the redlining policies her great-grandfather signed into place that have ramifications even now.
Tracking her ancestors' involvement in pivotal moments from before the Texas Revolution to the Civil War to the rise of the Texas Rangers, up through today, We Were Illegal is at once an intimate and character-driven narrative and an insider's revisionist look at a state that prides itself on its history. It is an act of reckoning and recovery on a personal scale, as well as a reflection of the work we must do as a nation to dismantle the whitewashed narratives that are passed down through families, communities, and textbooks. It is only through facing these hypocrisies and long-buried histories that we will be able to move past this fractured time in our country, take accountability for our legacy, and learn to be better, more honest ancestors.
Over seven generations, Jessica Goudeau’s family members were church elders, preachers, Sunday school teachers and potluck organizers. Her great-grandfather helped establish a Christian university in Abilene, Texas, which she attended along with her grandparents, parents, siblings, and cousins. Her family's legacy--a word she heard often growing up--was rooted in faithfulness, righteousness, and the hard work that built the great state of Texas. It wasn’t until she began to dig more deeply into the story of the land she lives on today in suburban Austin, that she discovered her family’s far more complicated role in Texas history, from early illegal settlements on Mexican land, bringing slavery to the state, up through the redlining policies her great-grandfather signed into place that have ramifications even now.
Tracking her ancestors' involvement in pivotal moments from before the Texas Revolution to the Civil War to the rise of the Texas Rangers, up through today, We Were Illegal is at once an intimate and character-driven narrative and an insider's revisionist look at a state that prides itself on its history. It is an act of reckoning and recovery on a personal scale, as well as a reflection of the work we must do as a nation to dismantle the whitewashed narratives that are passed down through families, communities, and textbooks. It is only through facing these hypocrisies and long-buried histories that we will be able to move past this fractured time in our country, take accountability for our legacy, and learn to be better, more honest ancestors.
416 pages, Hardcover
First published June 18, 2024
64 people are currently reading
4308 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 57 reviews
July 18, 2024
I ordered this book after reading a review that mentioned the author’s connection to a conservative church and affiliated university. I thought it might be the church I was brought up in, and the university from which I graduated. So I began reading this book with special interest, and I was not disappointed. Through telling the tales of her ancestors, Goudeau brings history to life, both the good and the bad parts of our history. She ties the past to the divisions of today—such a relevant book. And here is what is true both in the past and today—“The belief that our right to flourish was God-given, and higher than anyone else’s rights—including the right to exist—has always been there, in every generation as far back as I could trace my family roots.” Jessica Goudeau is not just telling the story of her family, but untold white families who have lived and died believing that terrible lie. A powerful book, and a brave author.
April 3, 2025
I grew up very far from Texas, so my impression of it probably comes more from westerns and other stereotypical depictions then from reality. I was never strongly interested in the myths surrounding Texas, but I'm certainly aware of their existence and how the stereotypical Texan thinks they are bigger better and braver than anyone else living. I picked up this book because I'm interested in the reevaluating of history and exploration of the historical truths that have been obscured by patriotic myth-making, and no place has inspired as much of that as Texas. I think memoirists have to be quite careful when writing a book that recontextualizes the past in terms of current cultural values because sometimes those come off as a big self-righteous virtue signal, but that wasn't true of this book. The author clearly has a deep love for Texas and for her own family and it's history, yet she sincerely wants to understand the truth behind the familial and state myths that drive people's pride of place. She makes a point not to compare the beliefs and actions of people in the past to current cultural standards of right and wrong. Instead, she compares them to the beliefs and actions of other people living in the same time period. The book covers many topics, including slavery, racist housing policy, and the hypocrisy of those whose ancestors came to America, or to Texas, as economic migrants but who view today's economic migrants as little better than Furman. With solid research, the author interrogates the myth of the good guy who uses violence only to get rid of the bad guy and the idea that vigilantism is necessary for the maintenance of social order, which was a main talking point used by the Ku Klux Klan. I would highly recommend this for those with an interest in Texas and it's history, but also for those who want to know the real truth behind histories taller tales.
Read
July 30, 20244.75 STARS
How this book ended up on my TBR: I wandered into my library to pick up books I'd put on order, and this was just staring at me from the front table. I grabbed another one too but found it less satisfying and DNF, but this was a welcome addition.
The title of the book is... not exactly misleading, but it does not feel like it encompasses all that this book has to offer. Granted, I think this book is hard to pin down, and I can't imagine I would do a better job coming up with a title. Nevertheless, it did pique my interest. I'd just listened to Annette Gordon-Reed's On Juneteenth, which did combine memoir and history of Texas, so I was sort of primed to be interested in this book. Not that I've ever had much interest in Texas, per se, but the state certainly does have a flavor. I think more people have complex but fond connections to Texas, and that can't be said for states like Florida.
So this book is a mixture of history and memoir as well. Goudeau seems to have done her homework well before she started this project. She is concerned with our current messy state more generally, and more specifically about the rhetoric surrounding immigration. She sounds exceptionally qualified, not just because of her PhD in literature, but because she's worked with refugees in Austin, Texas (and, if I recall, in several other locations around the world). It's not like she hasn't heard real-life horror stories before, but we tag along as she explores the real-life history of horror connected to Texas through the experiences of her ancestors. The book is split into parts that are her ancestors, though the chapters are not always so directly about these people. Many of them play very tangential roles in the developing history of the US and Texas more specifically. The criticism that her ancestors aren't really important people (to us) entirely misses the point of the book. And Goudeau does feature some well-known figures in Texas history. In each part, she establishes the historical context for each ancestor, and her personal thoughts become stronger and take up a little more space the further into the book you get. I suppose you can't go through your family history and hear about how they were complicit in racist practices without a mounting sense of "how can I still love my family? Texas? How do I thread this needle?" This is something she addresses most directly in the final part; this part, unlike the previous ones, centers on her mother's side of the family (they being newer to the US and Texas, in comparison to Goudeau's father's side).
I like the nuance that Goudeau shows throughout the book. She doesn't shy away from the horrible things she's learned, and she prepares you for them. She makes some very purposeful choices (such as trying to identify by name every Black person; most of those names are lost to history, for obvious reasons). I also think she tries not to do the obvious thing of condemning her family. She does not, for example, hold them up to today's standards. She does, however, hold them up to the standards of other people during their times, thus demonstrating that there was always another path, another course of action.
A question that comes up so frequently in the book is why. Why did most white people in Texas and surrounding areas treat indigenous people, native nonwhite Texans, Black people, and even women the way that they did? They professed to be pious and Christian, so what gives? Goudeau struggles to answer this question and ultimately finds this:
Our happiness, our pleasure, and our comfort were always the higher value in a hierarchy that benefited those of us in power. The power held was providential, manifested, God-given. If threatened, we were allowed to do whatever it took to protect our right not just to survive, or to live, but to flourish. That right to flourish mattered more than any other rights any other group or individual possessed. It mattered more than their lives. More than their children's lives. More than their community's continued existence.
That belief that our right to flourish was God-given, and higher than anyone else's rights--including the right to exist--has always been there, in every generation as far back as I could trace my family roots.
Earlier on in the book, she talks about the importance of being upfront about our history. She is somewhat stunned to see that her own school history books did not really shy away from ugly truths, and the same seems to be the case for her children, but she can't overlook the way that some politicians and interest groups would prefer that we don't educate ourselves on the past. And that, of course, is a power move. It goes right back up to the quotation: the people in power fear change that could impact their ability to stay in power.
Aside from the title, which is not that big of a deal, I thought some sections could have been a little more concise. I'm referring to some parts that are more memoir and Goudeau processing things. That is not an altogether bad thing; indeed, it makes the book unique. But at some points it just felt longer than necessary. Still very highly recommended.
--
PS. If you all ever go to The StoryGraph, let's be friends there! Here's my profile.
How this book ended up on my TBR: I wandered into my library to pick up books I'd put on order, and this was just staring at me from the front table. I grabbed another one too but found it less satisfying and DNF, but this was a welcome addition.
The title of the book is... not exactly misleading, but it does not feel like it encompasses all that this book has to offer. Granted, I think this book is hard to pin down, and I can't imagine I would do a better job coming up with a title. Nevertheless, it did pique my interest. I'd just listened to Annette Gordon-Reed's On Juneteenth, which did combine memoir and history of Texas, so I was sort of primed to be interested in this book. Not that I've ever had much interest in Texas, per se, but the state certainly does have a flavor. I think more people have complex but fond connections to Texas, and that can't be said for states like Florida.
So this book is a mixture of history and memoir as well. Goudeau seems to have done her homework well before she started this project. She is concerned with our current messy state more generally, and more specifically about the rhetoric surrounding immigration. She sounds exceptionally qualified, not just because of her PhD in literature, but because she's worked with refugees in Austin, Texas (and, if I recall, in several other locations around the world). It's not like she hasn't heard real-life horror stories before, but we tag along as she explores the real-life history of horror connected to Texas through the experiences of her ancestors. The book is split into parts that are her ancestors, though the chapters are not always so directly about these people. Many of them play very tangential roles in the developing history of the US and Texas more specifically. The criticism that her ancestors aren't really important people (to us) entirely misses the point of the book. And Goudeau does feature some well-known figures in Texas history. In each part, she establishes the historical context for each ancestor, and her personal thoughts become stronger and take up a little more space the further into the book you get. I suppose you can't go through your family history and hear about how they were complicit in racist practices without a mounting sense of "how can I still love my family? Texas? How do I thread this needle?" This is something she addresses most directly in the final part; this part, unlike the previous ones, centers on her mother's side of the family (they being newer to the US and Texas, in comparison to Goudeau's father's side).
I like the nuance that Goudeau shows throughout the book. She doesn't shy away from the horrible things she's learned, and she prepares you for them. She makes some very purposeful choices (such as trying to identify by name every Black person; most of those names are lost to history, for obvious reasons). I also think she tries not to do the obvious thing of condemning her family. She does not, for example, hold them up to today's standards. She does, however, hold them up to the standards of other people during their times, thus demonstrating that there was always another path, another course of action.
A question that comes up so frequently in the book is why. Why did most white people in Texas and surrounding areas treat indigenous people, native nonwhite Texans, Black people, and even women the way that they did? They professed to be pious and Christian, so what gives? Goudeau struggles to answer this question and ultimately finds this:
Our happiness, our pleasure, and our comfort were always the higher value in a hierarchy that benefited those of us in power. The power held was providential, manifested, God-given. If threatened, we were allowed to do whatever it took to protect our right not just to survive, or to live, but to flourish. That right to flourish mattered more than any other rights any other group or individual possessed. It mattered more than their lives. More than their children's lives. More than their community's continued existence.
That belief that our right to flourish was God-given, and higher than anyone else's rights--including the right to exist--has always been there, in every generation as far back as I could trace my family roots.
Earlier on in the book, she talks about the importance of being upfront about our history. She is somewhat stunned to see that her own school history books did not really shy away from ugly truths, and the same seems to be the case for her children, but she can't overlook the way that some politicians and interest groups would prefer that we don't educate ourselves on the past. And that, of course, is a power move. It goes right back up to the quotation: the people in power fear change that could impact their ability to stay in power.
Aside from the title, which is not that big of a deal, I thought some sections could have been a little more concise. I'm referring to some parts that are more memoir and Goudeau processing things. That is not an altogether bad thing; indeed, it makes the book unique. But at some points it just felt longer than necessary. Still very highly recommended.
--
PS. If you all ever go to The StoryGraph, let's be friends there! Here's my profile.
October 10, 2024
I did not grow up as a Texas resident so I didn’t study Texas history. The author has written Texas history through the lives of six of her ancestors. In a meticulously researched and well-told story of her family, Goudeau details through multiple-generations how her family managed to obtain property in Texas that includes the property where she now lives. She looks through today’s lens at the acts of her forebears who were slave owners and swindlers. She does not make excuses for the deeds of the past but stands apart from them in her own belief system that in no way excuses them.
This is a rich tale of the early settlement of Texas in events spanning the years from mid-1700s through today. I can’t explain how she did it but this large chunk of history reads almost like a mystery. This work is grounded in the author’s current land ownership then layered with uncomfortable and illegal actions of ancestors through the years. In a powerful concluding chapter the author wrestles with the history she has compiled and what it means in her life and how it impacts the future of her family.
This is a rich tale of the early settlement of Texas in events spanning the years from mid-1700s through today. I can’t explain how she did it but this large chunk of history reads almost like a mystery. This work is grounded in the author’s current land ownership then layered with uncomfortable and illegal actions of ancestors through the years. In a powerful concluding chapter the author wrestles with the history she has compiled and what it means in her life and how it impacts the future of her family.
February 2, 2025
This was more in-depth on the history than I was personally interested in, but the introduction and the end had such a fascinating premise that I pushed through and felt it was worth it. These are not, in fact unprecedented times in Texas or the United States: xenophobia and racism and violence on display has been on display right here in Texas ever since Americans legally and illegally immigrated here! I’m also a lifelong Texan (who was born in Abilene) so this felt relatable in the aspect of finding out about the real story of its founding, and asking, where do we go from here? I learned a ton. I wish my grandma who liked genealogy were still alive to talk about it with her.
October 19, 2024
This book talks about the history of extremism, vigilantism, and white supremacy in Texas and the South, through the lens of the author's family history. The stories about her ancestors are interesting, but that's not why I'm giving this book five stars. The reason I am is because I think it's crucial for all Texans, especially Anglos, to understand just how prevalent brazen racial violence and vigilantism was in our state's history, even as recently as 80 or 90 years ago. When I first learned about lynchings in northeast Texas that attracted tens of thousands of white spectators, I wondered if my ancestors would've attended if they lived in the area. I like to think they wouldn't have, that they had a stronger sense of morality than their friends and neighbors. But as Goudeau shows through her research on her own family history, that's probably wishful thinking. If more people today made the effort to confront the violence of their collective past, we would be in a better place as a country. Myths are extremely useful and powerful for a culture. But some of them need to be torn down.
September 9, 2024
This might be one of the most important contemporary books written by a white person. I love the accountability and bold truth-telling in these pages, even at the expense of the author’s own family’s reputation. That investment is one of the strongest elements.
This book is full of must-know information about Texas history, and I’m grateful for the incredible amount of research that went into it. The points about how false narratives have consistently been the foundation of our state (along with an unyielding commitment to slavery) are highly relevant for today’s political crisis.
Every Texan (and also those who live in other states) needs to read this.
This book is full of must-know information about Texas history, and I’m grateful for the incredible amount of research that went into it. The points about how false narratives have consistently been the foundation of our state (along with an unyielding commitment to slavery) are highly relevant for today’s political crisis.
Every Texan (and also those who live in other states) needs to read this.
October 8, 2024
Unvarnished non fictional account of the author’s family from the earliest days of our country through to current. Details a history of immigration, slave overseer’s, slave owners, scoundrels, cheats, criminals, and murderers all under the guise of white supremacy. Author juxtaposes written history with a critical eye toward those who were powerless and disenfranchised (indigenous peoples, black people, and women). There is a particular focus on her home state of Texas which she holds dear. Texas when it was part of Mexico struggled with illegal immigration of white slave holding Americans (Mexico was opposed to slavery). She also talks about this time in our early history and how it can be compared to current events. Important history and perspective.
November 2, 2024
"Honey, more damage comes from covering up, than has ever come from soberly facing reality." (Conclusion)
2.5 stars rounded up. At first I thought I'd give this 5 stars; I liked the idea of Jessica Goudeau telling the stories of several of her ancestors in Texas through the eras of slavery, the Alamo, lynching, etc. But ultimately I think her writing style wasn't for me. There was too much foreshadowing and too much telling of what Goudeau was thinking and seeing as she was investigating and writing the book, rather than just telling the stories of the ancestors. I also wish it had been more chronological.
However, I did like the content overall. The way we remember and retell our history matters. Noticing who is "centered" or "othered" is key for realizing we might be missing another side of the story.
I listened to the audiobook. I found out about this book from a New York Times list of books to look forward to in the summer of 2024.
2.5 stars rounded up. At first I thought I'd give this 5 stars; I liked the idea of Jessica Goudeau telling the stories of several of her ancestors in Texas through the eras of slavery, the Alamo, lynching, etc. But ultimately I think her writing style wasn't for me. There was too much foreshadowing and too much telling of what Goudeau was thinking and seeing as she was investigating and writing the book, rather than just telling the stories of the ancestors. I also wish it had been more chronological.
However, I did like the content overall. The way we remember and retell our history matters. Noticing who is "centered" or "othered" is key for realizing we might be missing another side of the story.
I listened to the audiobook. I found out about this book from a New York Times list of books to look forward to in the summer of 2024.
March 2, 2025
4.5 stars. Unbelievably prescient and powerful. The author examined several eras of extremism in Texas (and national) history- what fueled those events, what stoked them, and what ultimately settled them, even if temporarily. The author mapped these eras over the lives and events of her ancestors, offering unflinching analyses of their involvement, but also providing hope for how we can move forward.
April 21, 2025
Deep, raw and at times overwhelming, this is a necessary read in the study of what shaped our country and the worldviews that serve as the deep roots of our society today. I
A necessary read for
Anyone interested in the history of America and interested in a deeper look at how our history ties right into to our modern day struggles as a society.
Worth reading. And now I am eager to get to something much, much lighter.
A necessary read for
Anyone interested in the history of America and interested in a deeper look at how our history ties right into to our modern day struggles as a society.
Worth reading. And now I am eager to get to something much, much lighter.
October 7, 2024
This was fascinating, surprising, and sad. It’s been a long time since I took Texas History, and I’m surprised how many of those stories floated to the surface of my memory as she retold them. My favorite parts were the times she paused to wonder how someone felt, in the absence of historical record about their perceptions of their own experience. I want to feel like her family history is remarkable, and yet I wonder how much there is in common with my own, which I know has roots in Texas from several angles.
August 26, 2024
If you are at all interested in Texas history, read this book.
October 12, 2024
3.5 stars
October 24, 2024
History writing is always so good when there's a family connection. I admire the way this book conveys love of family and place, while also turning a critical eye on the events and decisions that brought the author to where she is.
Stories of relatives frame tales of migration, enslavement, political violence, grifting, sexual abuse and racism. Which sounds absolutely horrible -- and these events are horrible -- but they are also part of the author's story, and frankly, most of our stories.
Bonus -- one of the chapter's takes place in my hometown, surrounding a feud that I grew up hearing about. And I learned a lot about it from this book.
Stories of relatives frame tales of migration, enslavement, political violence, grifting, sexual abuse and racism. Which sounds absolutely horrible -- and these events are horrible -- but they are also part of the author's story, and frankly, most of our stories.
Bonus -- one of the chapter's takes place in my hometown, surrounding a feud that I grew up hearing about. And I learned a lot about it from this book.
June 30, 2024
It felt like this book was all over the place. There was some interesting historical bits, not many. It’s about the authors family (truthfully not that interesting) and they weren’t particularly infamous nor compelling. The few pictures she drew about “the times”, lifestyles, slavery were good. Overall it’s pretty boring and just her on an adventure to track her ancestors. Pretty common theme and a “who cares” if they aren’t your family?!
March 10, 2025
Originally marked as 4 stars but anytime a book comes up in conversation multiple times in the months after I read it, I figure it should got a top notch review
July 28, 2024
An interesting look at how family isn’t always true and how history impacts us all.
May 29, 2025
A heavy, incredibly well researched and historically rich interweaving of the author's family's story, Texas, and the United States. The themes uncovered and discussed are relevant to today because of the insidious hold white supremacy continues to have in the minds of so many and the way it's still woven into the laws and statues of so many neighborhoods, towns, cities, states and the country as a whole.
Because of the complexity of each individual story and then the family narrative, I had to flip back to the family trees over and over, although I believe that was assumed to be needed with the dark edge on those pages. I think I knew some of the history of Texas previously, but not well enough to recall immediately and definitely not in the depth it's covered in this book.
I feel inspired to discover more about my likely economic migrant ancestors (most recently five of my eight great grandparents and likely in the lineage of the other three within a couple generations). I'm definitely jealous of the honesty with which the author's parents raised her and continue to share. My family of origin (and my husband's) feels like one big of some poorly but others mostly deeply buried secrets and trauma. Even the hard, but not intended as harmful things I know about are dismissed and undiscussed. I have very purposefully had a different approach with my children, but I don't foresee ever being able to have an honest conversation with my own parents.
I hate to call the book fascinating due to all the personal and historical trauma involved, but I learned a lot and somehow feel comforted that those continuing the legacy of hatred and cruelty in the name of the status quo not only fail to understand how ignorance is keeping them trapped, but also are not the final word and those of us longing and fighting for better may see justice prevail sooner rather than later.
Because of the complexity of each individual story and then the family narrative, I had to flip back to the family trees over and over, although I believe that was assumed to be needed with the dark edge on those pages. I think I knew some of the history of Texas previously, but not well enough to recall immediately and definitely not in the depth it's covered in this book.
I feel inspired to discover more about my likely economic migrant ancestors (most recently five of my eight great grandparents and likely in the lineage of the other three within a couple generations). I'm definitely jealous of the honesty with which the author's parents raised her and continue to share. My family of origin (and my husband's) feels like one big of some poorly but others mostly deeply buried secrets and trauma. Even the hard, but not intended as harmful things I know about are dismissed and undiscussed. I have very purposefully had a different approach with my children, but I don't foresee ever being able to have an honest conversation with my own parents.
I hate to call the book fascinating due to all the personal and historical trauma involved, but I learned a lot and somehow feel comforted that those continuing the legacy of hatred and cruelty in the name of the status quo not only fail to understand how ignorance is keeping them trapped, but also are not the final word and those of us longing and fighting for better may see justice prevail sooner rather than later.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 28, 2025
The line from this book that will stay with me is this one: “The belief that our right to flourish was God-given, and higher than anyone else’s rights—including the right to exist." That's a belief that Goudeau's family and ancestors held, just as many of mine do and did.
Put more starkly, it is the belief that white, Christian men have the right to flourish above everyone else around them, including the women and children in their own lives and families. It is a belief that has inflicted trauma across continents and generations. It is a belief that we can only dismantle by looking it dead in the eye and reckoning with it.
America is not a country that values honesty, especially when it comes to its own roots. Texas is perhaps the best individual example of this; its mythos drowns out the realities of its becoming and what it is today.
I am a lifelong Texan. I love Texas in my bones, and Texas regularly makes me despair. It's almost impossible to describe to those who look at our vast home and see only caricature how many Texans hold these two truths in our hands. To truly love something, I think, is to admit its flaws and work to help it become the best version of itself — not to refuse to acknowledge the deep pain of the past because of shame.
That is how you end up repeating it. That is how you end up feeling the fear on the streets and see neighbors turn against each other.
This reminder of the deep love and honesty necessary in reckoning with our history is more important in this moment than I can put into words. Refusing to other someone because you're told that will solve all of your problems starts by knowing them as a person, by hearing important stories.
Start with this one if you need a place to start.
Put more starkly, it is the belief that white, Christian men have the right to flourish above everyone else around them, including the women and children in their own lives and families. It is a belief that has inflicted trauma across continents and generations. It is a belief that we can only dismantle by looking it dead in the eye and reckoning with it.
America is not a country that values honesty, especially when it comes to its own roots. Texas is perhaps the best individual example of this; its mythos drowns out the realities of its becoming and what it is today.
I am a lifelong Texan. I love Texas in my bones, and Texas regularly makes me despair. It's almost impossible to describe to those who look at our vast home and see only caricature how many Texans hold these two truths in our hands. To truly love something, I think, is to admit its flaws and work to help it become the best version of itself — not to refuse to acknowledge the deep pain of the past because of shame.
That is how you end up repeating it. That is how you end up feeling the fear on the streets and see neighbors turn against each other.
This reminder of the deep love and honesty necessary in reckoning with our history is more important in this moment than I can put into words. Refusing to other someone because you're told that will solve all of your problems starts by knowing them as a person, by hearing important stories.
Start with this one if you need a place to start.
August 17, 2024
The author's background is very much like that of a family member of mine; I wanted to read the book and then send it along to her. The author, like my relation, is an 8th-generation Texan, with ancestors who were in the state before it was a state, with deep feelings of affection for her native land, and loyalty to a Texas story that disputes the myths about its founding and its so-called glorious heroism. She has done a prodigious amount of research to uncover the real facts about her family's part in some of the less-than-admirable aspects of Texas history. This effort took real bravery to confront the realities of violence, misogyny, racism, and downright maliciousness among one's distant and more recent ancestors. I thought her strongest section was about the part her Texas Ranger grandparent played in the cruel events carried out in Beeville by a pathologically evil sheriff in the 1940s & 50s. The mood she creates here reminded me of the attitudes I confronted living in San Antonio in the 1970s: lawmen still getting away with blatant murder of Hispanics and Blacks, and good ol' boys getting a pass on all kinds of corruption and illegal activities, all the while falsely glorifying the Battle of the Alamo. Goudeau's writing is at times a bit repetitive, but for the most part quite moving and heartfelt. Well worth reading, as a corrective to all those masculinist myths, and a reminder of how violent the past was, and especially how overwhelming were those times for the women who suffered under the harshness of frontier conditions and concepts of "justice" and appropriate behavior.
November 11, 2024
"We Were Illegal" by Jessica Goudeau is my favorite book of 2024! It is especially recommended as audiobook read by the author.
The book tells a family story of settlement in Texas on the example of five family members. It also tells the history of Texas from a territory of Mexico to a state of the USA. My first thought after reading this book: it is "Braiding Sweet Grass" for European settlers. That is mainly driven by the beauty of the story telling and language. However, it also is true in the spirit. While one book describes the beauty of the oneness of the native people with their surroundings, the other tells a story of the drive for personal advancement without any boundaries of European settlers. The religion or spirituality of European settlers was only used to separate them from others, not as a driving force steering their interaction with other peoples or their natural surroundings.
The book answers one important question; if our families were all illegal immigrants at some point in our family history, performed unspeakable crimes, and enjoyed immense privileges in the process of successfully establishing our genes on this continent, how do we move forward today?
This book is a deeply personal story. It is beautiful and encouraging. Most of all, this book is very relevant in the current environment where we seem to re-define what it means to be an American. Highly recommended!
The book tells a family story of settlement in Texas on the example of five family members. It also tells the history of Texas from a territory of Mexico to a state of the USA. My first thought after reading this book: it is "Braiding Sweet Grass" for European settlers. That is mainly driven by the beauty of the story telling and language. However, it also is true in the spirit. While one book describes the beauty of the oneness of the native people with their surroundings, the other tells a story of the drive for personal advancement without any boundaries of European settlers. The religion or spirituality of European settlers was only used to separate them from others, not as a driving force steering their interaction with other peoples or their natural surroundings.
The book answers one important question; if our families were all illegal immigrants at some point in our family history, performed unspeakable crimes, and enjoyed immense privileges in the process of successfully establishing our genes on this continent, how do we move forward today?
This book is a deeply personal story. It is beautiful and encouraging. Most of all, this book is very relevant in the current environment where we seem to re-define what it means to be an American. Highly recommended!
October 19, 2024
Informative. The author tries to understand modern Texas (and the US) by reporting stories from her own family. From slave-owning Virginians and illegal slave-owning Texian settlers through 19th century feuds through 20th century representatives including a Texas Ranger and a poor white child abuser she really uncovers the underbelly of the myths of hard-working and right-living good Christians that created the state.
p. 192 - As I honed my research and found that my family had been in one of those feuds , I saw eerie parallels between what happened in Colorado County from 1871 to 1911 and the rise of vigilantism in Texas - and aound the US - that began in the 2010s....Those feuds were not just feuds; they were waterspouts to the Civil War's hurricane. And like those destructive storms, that kind of divisive, one-side-take-all violence can be very hard to control."
p. 294 "The unquestioned bedrock belief was that our right to flourish was God-given, and higher than anyone else's rights - including the right to exist."
p. 192 - As I honed my research and found that my family had been in one of those feuds , I saw eerie parallels between what happened in Colorado County from 1871 to 1911 and the rise of vigilantism in Texas - and aound the US - that began in the 2010s....Those feuds were not just feuds; they were waterspouts to the Civil War's hurricane. And like those destructive storms, that kind of divisive, one-side-take-all violence can be very hard to control."
p. 294 "The unquestioned bedrock belief was that our right to flourish was God-given, and higher than anyone else's rights - including the right to exist."
October 28, 2024
This is exceptional!! If Texas history and culture, personal family ancestry & storytelling and a compassionate commentary on immigration, racism and polarization of politics falls into your niche interest list - pick up this book, you won't regret it.
I think I appreciated most that the Goudeau was soft in her approach. She gently unfolds her personal family history to make her main points about modern day issues, while allowing readers to form their own conclusions & opinions. There is no 'shoving politics down your throat' in this one - it's rhetorical, warm and truly makes you think & consider as the stories and research unfold.
I echo other reviewers that the title doesn't do this book justice; it also may be misleading and I worry it could potentially be a turn-off? Look past the title & cover art! :)
Five stars, one of my favorite books of the year. Everyone with Texas lineage (or an interest in Texas as a subtext of American culture) should read!
I think I appreciated most that the Goudeau was soft in her approach. She gently unfolds her personal family history to make her main points about modern day issues, while allowing readers to form their own conclusions & opinions. There is no 'shoving politics down your throat' in this one - it's rhetorical, warm and truly makes you think & consider as the stories and research unfold.
I echo other reviewers that the title doesn't do this book justice; it also may be misleading and I worry it could potentially be a turn-off? Look past the title & cover art! :)
Five stars, one of my favorite books of the year. Everyone with Texas lineage (or an interest in Texas as a subtext of American culture) should read!
December 3, 2024
I really admire Goudeau for writing this book, in which she digs deep into her own family’s involvement with so many of the key historical trends that created our current unjust and unequal world--illegally settling on Mexican land, bringing slavery to Texas, and creating the redlined districts that would enshrine racial housing inequality in a way that still affects our present. It is a book I think all white folks, especially those with roots in the south, should read. If I have any quibbles, it is that at times Goudeau feels too apologetic for what she is doing, in a way I can understand (who doesn’t want to make apologies for what your own family has done?), but in a way I think undercuts the book a bit. Still a very important and needed read--one I wish we assigned in high school, because I don’t think most of the folks who would most benefit from reading this will ever pick it up.
July 14, 2024
It’s not you, it’s me. I will preface by saying I probably wasn’t in the right headspace to fully appreciate this book. The author examines her family history in the state of Texas, and draws parallels between how the history has shaped the present in that state, and what role her family played in it all. She looks at the treatment of indigenous people, slavery, state rights, civil rights and several other issues. I had a very hard time getting into the reading, but I recognize the content is valuable and well written. Her main premise is that most social issues stem from one group’s belief that their rights are inherently superior to others’. That has historically been true and continues to dominate the narrative today.
I wanted to give it 3 stars but realize it probably merits four.
I wanted to give it 3 stars but realize it probably merits four.
April 8, 2025
I started this book & then stopped for a really long time and then started listening to it again & blew threw the last half and really enjoyed it.
The family history was very interesting especially as it relates to Texas history and this book went well with multiple books I read the couple years related to the history of Texas. I really liked the overcoming your own families generational dysfunction & changing the narrative.
It makes me wonder what things are buried in my own family history that have been hidden, glossed over, or forgotten because they were the unspoken secret that everyone knew that faded or didn't get passed down to the younger generations.
I especially liked the ending about overcoming looking at other people as "other" which can lead to so much violence and hate. The message in this book was powerful and though provoking.
The family history was very interesting especially as it relates to Texas history and this book went well with multiple books I read the couple years related to the history of Texas. I really liked the overcoming your own families generational dysfunction & changing the narrative.
It makes me wonder what things are buried in my own family history that have been hidden, glossed over, or forgotten because they were the unspoken secret that everyone knew that faded or didn't get passed down to the younger generations.
I especially liked the ending about overcoming looking at other people as "other" which can lead to so much violence and hate. The message in this book was powerful and though provoking.
May 13, 2025
This is an unflinching history of the ruling class of Texas (i.e., the Anglos). The earliest Anglo settlers in Texas, then a part of Mexico, were refugees from the law and/or debt collectors. They fled to the area illegally, bringing their slaves despite the Mexican government's opposition to slavery. They fought the Texan revolution to prevent their slaves from being freed. Subsequent generations continued to subjugate people of color, maintaining power legally, socially and often violently. It's quite a rogue's gallery and extremely educational. As a lifelong Texan, I found that it has the ring of truth.
I never took my required 8th grade Texas History classes in school (I skipped 8th grade), so this learning experience was particularly valuable to me. Many thanks to the author of this book, which focuses on one family but is also a panoramic history project.
I never took my required 8th grade Texas History classes in school (I skipped 8th grade), so this learning experience was particularly valuable to me. Many thanks to the author of this book, which focuses on one family but is also a panoramic history project.
August 21, 2024
I didn't know a lot about Texas history. Goudeau writes for truth, not for widely held mythology.
The Mexico border moved south, "Texians" developed a Republic and renamed themselves Texans, and finally became a state. Early days include genocide of Karankawas, the influx of slaveholders with enslaved people, the rise of the KKK, and how in some places ordinary citizens rose up to reverse the lawlessness even among law enforcement officers. Some of the attitudes remain entrenched to this day. Better to know the truth, though, than to pretend it never existed.
Goudeau places her own ancestors in each of the key areas and writes about their influence, for good or ill.
The Mexico border moved south, "Texians" developed a Republic and renamed themselves Texans, and finally became a state. Early days include genocide of Karankawas, the influx of slaveholders with enslaved people, the rise of the KKK, and how in some places ordinary citizens rose up to reverse the lawlessness even among law enforcement officers. Some of the attitudes remain entrenched to this day. Better to know the truth, though, than to pretend it never existed.
Goudeau places her own ancestors in each of the key areas and writes about their influence, for good or ill.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 17, 2025
A bit of an expansive concept. I thought this author’s previous book, Across the Last Border, about two immigrant families, was exceptional. The title of this one made me think it would be about her family’s reckoning with their Texas roots, but I don’t think she achieved her purpose in this book, which was to tie in her family’s history with colonialism and the takeover of Texas land. I get it, real life never fits neatly into the narrative. Still, there is a lot of Texan history and a lot of life in these pages. They just don’t always go together.
3.5 stars (rounded up) because I like what she’s trying to do, and the research she did shows.
3.5 stars (rounded up) because I like what she’s trying to do, and the research she did shows.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 57 reviews