Noemi Martinez makes her Hermana Resist zine out of her South Texas home, usually when her son and daughter are sleeping. By day, she’s the human trafficking outreach coordinator at Texas RioGrande Legal Aid.

She says, “Between 800,000 to 900,000 people are trafficked in the world every year, with an estimated 18,000 to 20,000 of those in the US. A trafficked person doesn't have to cross international lines, and it can happen to a US citizen not only to undocumented persons.�

I spoke with Noemi over phone and email about her zines. I plan to talk about her anti-trafficking work in an interview to come. Here’s Noemi…

When did you start making zines?
In 2000. I am 30 now, so I was probably 22 or 23.

In Hermana Resist 6: In My Defense On Being you talk about creating zines to fill the void you feel is present in many of the zines you read. You talk about not feeling represented. Can you talk more about this?
I had not seen zines written by Latinas, or by single moms [until I made my own]. It was like “the norm,� which is still true right now. Zines are mainly written by white people, with privilege money-wise.

What are some issues that you talk about that many zines do not?
Off the bat: racism, sexism. There are zines who cover those issues, but from a white perspective, which is really different from a woman of color who writes zines talking about racism. It’s kind of odd reading it from a white person.

I noticed your zines are very personal and political. Do you think about what kinds of messages you want to give out before writing your zines? Or do you just go with the flow?
It’s really hard to separate one from the other because my personal happens because of the political, and vice a versa. If I am talking about an instance of racism in my personal life, first I have to talk about what happened, then why it happened. So, it goes from the personal and then it expands bigger and bigger to the political.

How many copies of each zine do you print?
I do several print runs of zines. In the beginning it was maybe 50 each run. Now I start off with a 100. People still ask for them, but I get tired of copying them. Sometimes I understand that people still want them because there are very little zines like it out there. Like Hermana Resist 3, I continued putting it out because it deals with depression and pregnancy and being a person of color. There aren’t a lot of things out there that deal with that. Even though it was a very painful zine to write and it was hard to reread it, someone out there might have benefited from reading it. That’s why I continue to make copies and have it available.

Do you give your zines out for free?
No. Usually I charge $1 or $2.

How do you distribute your zines?
Mostly mail. It’s weird because only till recently where I live, did people start asking about zines or wanted to know more about them. In the beginning it was just people in the city.

What is the social demographic of most of your readers?
I would have to say, race: white. I don’t think zines are so accessible right now to people who would like to get them. The populations who benefit most from zines don’t know about zines. For example, me, I was this little Chicana from South Texas who didn’t know anything. There’s someone out there who’s going through the same thing as me who would benefit but has no way of finding out about zines. Also, if you don’t have internet access you’re not going to hear about zines either.

So, you think zines are helpful in dealing with issues in your everyday life?
Totally, totally. If it weren’t for zines, I wouldn’t be the person I am right now. I’m an activist who works on violence against women.

Do you have a lot of female readers?
The majority are women. I do get letters and emails from guys, but I would have to say 90 percent are women.

As a mother, it’s so hard to have the time to be a mother and to write and make zines; to be a mother and to work. I wear so many hats, so I know the attraction from mothers is not as strong. I would say for mothers, it’s 20 to 30 percent.

How do you make zines while holding down a full-time job and being a single mom?
At night, and on the weekend. It’s hard. Usually during the summer or winter vacation is when I get a good chunk of writing done. I’m also involved in my community. I do a lot of events. It is hard, but I love zines, and that’s what I do.

How many different zines do you publish?
In the beginning, when I only had my son, it was maybe two or three a year. Now that I have my daughter, I’m doing one a year.

What do your family and friends think about your zines?
They read them. It’s weird because they’re painful to read. They’re personal. But every time I want to put one out they want to read them. They really like them and can relate to them.

My sister wants to put out a zine. She has a different perspective than me. She’s a lesbian, and she’s not a mom.

[But my family], they’re open and receptive. I’ve heard of a lot of families get really angry at zines.

How hard is it to make and put a zine together?
I like the process. The collating, the copying, the pasting, the taping, the cutting—it’s fun. My son, when he was five, he put a little comic strip together.

Once you get the hang of the format, it’s simple, and it’s fun. I would encourage other people to try to put something out.

You pretty much hand-do each one? Staple each one?
Yup.

That’s a lot of work. What tips do you have for readers who are interested in starting their own zine?
Get a couple of them. I’ve heard a lot from kids who want to start their own zines but they’ve never actually had one in their hands. I think it’s important to get a couple of different kinds of zines and not only look at the writing, but how they’re put together and how they look inside.

If you don’t know what to write, don’t start the zine until you know what you want to write about.

Have you gotten a lot of publicity for your zines?
No, not really. A bookstore in California knows about my zine but people here don’t really know about it.

So, it’s frustrating living in South Texas?
Very. People use the word “Hispanic,� which I don’t use. They don’t like the word “Chicano.� They don’t like the word “feminist.� I don’t want to say they’re all like that because I’ve met some really cool, progressive activists.

But for example, when I did my first event in 2002, nobody wanted to help out because it was for women-only performers. People were like, “Why? Why can’t guys do it?� It’s hard to say to people that generally everything else is with and about guys. When you go to a concert, there are generally guys in the band. When you go to shows, there will be guys. It’s the norm. But when you say it’s only women, people get angry.