Faculty Feature - Dr. Carol Brochin

Dr. Carol Brochin

Associate Professor, Teaching, Learning, and Sociocultural Studies
Department Head, Teaching, Learning, and Sociocultural Studies

Dr. Carol Brochin is an Associate Professor and the Department Head of the Department of Teaching, Learning and Sociocultural Studies. She began her career in the classroom, teaching English and Language Arts in public schools in Laredo, Texas, where she cultivated her passion for supporting bilingual and bicultural youth. Her experiences as a teacher, journalist, literacy specialist, and director of the West Texas Writing Project reflect a longstanding dedication to empowering students and educators through language and storytelling. Her research centers on identity formation among bilingual teacher candidates and the role of language in shaping educational equity. Through community-based arts, writing initiatives, and university teaching, she continues to advocate for transformative education that honors students’ linguistic and cultural background. Her scholarship has been published in Urban Education, Theory into Practice, the Journal of Lesbian Studies, and the International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism. Recognized for her dedication to inclusive education, Dr. Brochin has received numerous honors, including the Urquides Laureate Award and the Fabulous Faculty Award from Pride Alliance and LGBTQ Affairs.

Who do you draw inspiration from and why?
This is such a hard question because it feels deeply personal to me. I draw inspiration first from my maternal grandmother, Lupita. She was born in a rural town in Northern Mexico, and of the nine children she birthed, only four survived beyond their first year. I have always wondered how she endured such profound loss and yet became the most centered and grounded person I have ever known. She passed away at 93, just months after becoming a U.S. citizen. I spent a few weeks with her right before she died, and I replay those memories often. She reminded me to be patient; she taught me how to cook; she modeled the power of stillness and listening. I think of her all the time, and in my quiet moments, I still ask her to give me the strength to raise my own children. These days, I also draw deep inspiration from trans and queer youth, including my own adult teen. I hesitate to put the weight of my admiration on them because I know they already carry so much, yet their courage and authenticity move me constantly. They remind me that living truthfully — despite fear, hostility, or misunderstanding — is itself an act of resilience and hope. 

This inspiration is not only personal but also central to my professional work. Training and supporting future teachers means preparing them to work with students who, like my grandmother once was, may be immigrants navigating language, loss, and systemic barriers, or like today’s queer and trans youth, facing challenges to their very existence. My grandmother taught me the quiet strength of endurance, while queer and trans youth show me the radical strength of being who you are where in silence or visibility. Both lessons are vital for educators: to honor the lived experiences of their students, to create classrooms where survival is not the expectation but thriving is possible, and to understand that inspiration flows both ways — from teacher to student and student to teacher.
 
What are one or two accomplishments of which you are most proud?
Salas de Libros One of the accomplishments I am most proud of is co-founding and launching Salas de Libros, a community-based reading initiative inspired by Mexico’s Salas de Lectura. These “Salas” are not reading clubs or tutoring sessions, but welcoming spaces—whether in homes, community centers, or public parks—where people gather around books, conversation, and comfort to build intergenerational, literate communities. With colleagues, and in collaboration with UNAM and Worlds of Words at the University of Arizona, we launched the first Salas in Tucson in 2017. Since then, we have expanded to nearly ten Salas, prepared local literary mediators, and adapted the model during the pandemic to reach vulnerable populations through virtual gatherings. The work has also led to cross-border exchanges with facilitators in Mexico, affirming our core principles of freedom, equity, autonomy, and inclusion. 

What makes me proudest is not just the number of Salas or participants, but the human connections that emerge in these spaces. Many attendees are migrants navigating trauma, loss, and transition, and Salas offers them a sense of belonging and healing through shared stories. To see literature help someone feel less alone—or begin to imagine themselves as part of a larger whole—has been the most meaningful outcome of my career. I am especially excited that this work will soon culminate in our first publication, Crossing Borders Through Books: Learning from Mexico to Implement Salas de Lectura in the US, which documents the lessons, challenges, and impact of this initiative. 

I am also proud to have co-directed two NEH teacher institutes as Co-Principal Investigator alongside Drs. Kathy Short and others, We the People: Migrant Waves in the Making of America which explored migration as a constant in U.S. history through the untold and silenced stories of people of color often left out of traditional narratives. Teachers engaged with young adult literature, visited museums, met scholars and authors, and participated in hands-on inquiry. Using Arizona as a case study, participants learned research strategies to examine histories erased from mainstream narratives, then applied these strategies to study migration in their own states. Held at the University of Arizona’s Worlds of Words, the largest U.S. collection of global children’s and young adult literature, the institutes combined text-based discussions, field trips to Indigenous sites, and immersive cultural experiences to strengthen teachers’ capacity to introduce marginalized histories into classrooms. This work is complemented by a short piece, Multimodal Text Sets as Curricular Resistance to Untold and Silenced Stories (2024, WOW Stories, XII:1), which examines how reading materials can amplify marginalized voices and foster critical engagement in classrooms.

What advice would you give to your younger self?
I often think about younger, “baby” Carol. I wish I could tell her that the borders she navigated—between countries, cultures, languages, and identities—would shift over time, and that it’s okay for her understanding of herself to evolve along the way. I would tell her to feel less shame about her own sexuality, to embrace it as a vital part of who she is rather than something to hide. I would also reassure her that being raised by an immigrant mother—by someone who endured so much—was not something to be ashamed about as I was often made to feel in school but a source of strength, resilience, and wisdom. I would remind her of what people say about life moving fast and echo my paternal grandfather’s dicho: “cuando tienes prisa, ay que ir despacio”—when you are in a hurry, you must go slowly. Life will unfold, and rushing only makes it harder to notice the lessons, the joys, and the people who really matter. 

I would also encourage her to trust that these experiences, these “in-between” spaces, are gifts. They give her the ability to connect deeply with others, to understand what it means to belong or not, and that's okay too. Most of all, I would tell her that she is enough exactly as she is, and that embracing her full self—without shame or regret—is the foundation for the work she will one day do to support queer, trans, and immigrant youth, teachers, and communities.

What is something you are working on currently that you’re excited about?
I’m energized by three interconnected projects that reflect both my research and my commitment to supporting LGBTQ+ youth across borders. This summer, I presented at the 2025 International Research Society for Children’s Literature in Salamanca, Spain. My paper, Gender, Sexuality, and Interstitial Imaginaries of (Un)Belonging in the U.S./Mexico Borderlands, explored Erika Meza’s To the Other Side through the lens of unbelonging. I see the book not just as a story, but as an act of resistance—its fragmented narrative and open-ended aesthetics illustrate how queer, trans, and immigrant youth navigate spaces that often refuse them belonging. Sharing these ideas internationally and discussing the “in-between” spaces of identity—physical, emotional, cultural, and gendered—was profoundly inspiring, reminding me of the power of literature to reflect lived realities and spark dialogue across borders. 

This work is part of my larger book project, Teaching and Learning Across the U.S./Mexico Border, which I am developing for Routledge’s Expanding Literacies in Education series. The book draws from years of ethnographic research in community-based literacy spaces to explore how reading practices foster belonging and affirm LGBTQ+ identities in transnational contexts. 

Finally, I am co-authoring a forthcoming piece with two of our TLS graduate students, Advocating for LGBTQ+ Students in Bilingual Classrooms, to appear in the Handbook of Bilingual Teacher Education. Collaborating with students in this way is especially meaningful to me—it connects research, teaching, and advocacy in real, tangible ways, and reminds me that the work we do in classrooms and communities has ripple effects beyond academic publications.