Xiiomarra Milann, a 2013 graduate of Lyndon B. Johnson High School, earned a BA in English Literature at TAMIU in 2017 and completed an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Texas-El Paso in 2025. She began teaching English at Nixon High school in 2020 and continues on the faculty there.
One of the most accomplished writers and contributors to Tragaluz, she is an intuitive storyteller who needs no suggestions for how to structure her stories, which are thoughtful, grammatically correct, and committed to paper with a love of language.
She’s the mother of two young children. “They have accompanied me to readings and were alongside me when I graduated with my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. They were among the first people who saw my bound thesis manuscript. When I first got the news about my nomination for Poet Laureate, my partner and children surprised me with flowers and a card congratulating me on winning the ‘poet lottery.’ I’m not sure my children fully understand all it is I do, but they know that writing is important to me and they support and celebrate me through it.”
María Eugenia Guerra (MEG): What does being named the City’s Poet Laureate mean to you?
Xiomarra Milann (XM): I’m so grateful for the opportunity to work within what I love most: writing and my hometown. Laredo deserves so much, and I’m glad I get to build on the momentum my predecessors created and maintained. I look forward to working with Laredoans of all ages and backgrounds, hoping to inspire a deeper engagement and appreciation of poetry and helping local writers see the value in their own stories. I have ideas for both formal and informal workshops, close reading workshops for teens, and poetic imagery workshops for young children in development. I’m hoping that by the end of tenure, I will have created space for poetry to bloom within the community, making writing a communal event rather than one that remains solitary. In doing so, I hope to do both my community and the literary genre justice.
MEG: How long have you been writing? Who did you read as you grew up. who do you read now?
XM: I’ve been a writer and storyteller as far back as I can remember. When I was still living in Hebbronville, I was part of their Junior UIL Storytelling team. I have copies of short stories and letters I wrote to my grandparents in my elementary and middle school years. In high school, I was part of the journalism and ready writing UIL teams.
When I entered college, I tried to go the STEM route to major in biochemistry. Obviously, that was not for me, but by my sophomore year, I had switched to an English major because that was where I felt the most passionate and interested. I’ve always loved reading, analyzing and breaking down ideas and concepts.
The first book I remember reading was A Bath for A Beagle, and I enjoyed reading middle grade fiction like the Harry Potter novels, the Twilight series, The Babysitters Club series, and Goosebumps series. As I matured, I gravitated towards heavier stories; I really enjoy dystopian literature.
My favorite authors include Toni Morrison and William Faulkner (I am a sucker for stream-of-consciousness writing). Recently I read Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi, Piñata by Leopoldo Goult, and Never Whistle at Night. I’m invested in cultural folklore and the suggested horror that comes from their histories of oppression and exploitation.
MEG: When did you understand you had a voice in words?
XM: Though I always wrote and used writing as a creative escape, it wasn’t until 2021 that I began taking my writing seriously. On a whim, I sent a poem to SamFiftyfour Literary Journal, and it was selected for publication! I received some uplifting feedback and decided to invest more of my time in writing. I began attending Laredo Border Slam events more regularly and began really committing to my craft. Until that point, poetry had been a solitary act, but I saw the seeds of poetry becoming a means for connection. On many occasions after performing my poems, I would have audience members come up to me and say things along the lines of “I never knew how to put those feelings into words” or “you said something I’ve always thought/felt” and it was in those interactions that I recognized the value in digging deep within myself and sharing those thoughts that we second-guess or shame ourselves out of sharing or feel that nobody will care about.
MEG: What made writing important to you? How did that process grow?
XM: There’s something about the process of writing, drafting, and editing that really speaks to me as someone who tries to be as intentional as possible. I enjoy how writing provides you with the opportunity to be concise and exact. I also appreciate the elements of playfulness in the writing process, for example when you choose different diction or verbiage to have a different intended affect or understanding for the reader. It’s these minute details in the meticulous process that make writing so much fun for me.
From the beginning, I knew I always enjoyed writing, but a large portion of my process and progress, especially coming into it in my late-twenties, was going through my MFA program. I knew I had a good handle on my voice and style, but I didn’t want to settle with ‘good enough’ and stagnate. I owe much of my growth and development as a writer to my professors and my thesis committee. Even though my focus was poetry, the program had a holistic plan that encompassed fiction and non-fiction writing into the degree as well. Being able to engage with various genres, styles, and perspectives really helped me learn to pull from all sources of inspiration. Additionally, the practice with fiction helped me learn to switch narrative voices and perspectives in my poetry.
MEG: What draws you to write poetry? When do you know a poem you are writing delivers what you intended?
XM: What draws me to poetry is the need to really work through the writer’s stylistic choices to pull meaning; it feels like literary excavation. It’s tedious work, but it’s fulfilling to engage with something so deeply that you’re able to interpret the heart of its creation. It’s an act of love for the genre and the poem’s creator.
I often joke that I am just a conduit for the poem to be brought into the world. There are obviously topics that I am heavy on writing about: motherhood, being a woman, culture, political events, but it isn’t as simple as sitting down to write something about a specific topic. Sometimes I get random lines or words repeating in my head, and I just run with it, even if at the end all I can pull is one good line or stanza. There is a lot of trust I place in myself and the art itself to just get where it needs to go. Plenty of times I’ll sit down thinking that I’m going to write about one thing, and as I let the words come, it completely pivots into something new. I’ve really learned to just let the poem go where it needs to go rather than remain rigid on what I thought the poem should be. As intentional and concise as I am with my final draft, the process requires me to be more lax and open-minded.
MEG: Did growing up here influence your poetry?
XM: Much of what happens directly and indirectly to and on the border, here in Laredo, is embedded into my poetry. I have poems that discuss the culture, language, and folklore of the city, even having some poems where Laredo functions as a character itself. There is a liminality that defines identity when you exist in a space that is rooted in the in-between, and that “neither here nor there” aspect of life increases the sources of inspiration you can pull from. Growing up on the border, there is a well-known stereotype that mainstream institutions have come to expect when it comes to borderland artists and the type of work they produce. Many of these stereotypes highlight our cultural pride, but ultimately restrict a lot of good border artists that do not make work that adhere to the specific stereotypical aesthetic. I think that being from the border, the culture becomes this unique blend that only border communities can understand. And in this blended border culture, there are individual microcosms of border identity that fall within a spectrum. It’s kind of like blending colors depending on the specific mix of how much American vs. Mexican culture you’re brought up with. No one experience is the same for any individual, so it furthers my belief in the reductive stereotyping and expectations placed on border artists to focus solely on one specific type of aesthetic expression in their art. The border canon needs to expand to encompass more experiences than those that are already expected.
MEG: Your writing in Tragaluz presents topics in a distinct narrative that invites the readers to experience what you did. In the story about RED, there was an exciting cadence to your description of the intimate setting for the play and the sounds of the city outside. Talk about cadence.
XM: Influenced by the stream-of-consciousness styles of Morrison and Faulkner, I have a tendency to write in compound-complex sentences, developing ideas until they reach the takeaway point. I invite the reader into a more polished version of my thought process. My writing works to outline the way ideas and concepts connect in my brain to add up to the ultimate message, the heart of what it is I’m writing about. This type of style lends to the fluidity and natural flow of ideas that deliver readers at the river base of meaning.
MEG: Talk about your vocabulary, which is one of your strengths.
XM: I think that everything that is done needs to be done with a specific purpose. Language requires specificity with diction. “Hollers” and “screams” are synonyms but paint two distinctly different pictures; it’s up to the writer to use language that get the reader the closest to the picture I’m trying to paint. My writing isn’t anything like Hemingway’s, but I was very inspired by his concise writing. There’s a great deal to be said about conveying much by saying little. That is a huge indicator of mastery in your craft.
