We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Alejandra Cordero. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Alejandra below.

Alejandra, appreciate you joining us today. Let’s kick things off with your mission – what is it and what’s the story behind why it’s your mission?

My mission is deeply meaningful because it stems from my identity, cultural heritage, and commitment to social justice. As a first-generation Mexican-American multimedia artist, my work is not only about creativity—it’s a form of resistance and reclamation of space for marginalized voices.

My Mexican and American background fuels my drive to challenge oppressive narratives and uplift “Brown culture” through art. By existing and creating as a woman of color in spaces that often exclude such perspectives. My work is rooted in identity, community, and inherently resists systemic erasure.

I don’t just make art- I use it as a tool for political and social change. Whether through visual storytelling or collaborations with humanitarian groups (like Team Hope and The Biddy Mason Charitable Foundation), part of my mission is to ensure underrepresented stories are heard.

Winning the 2024 Denhart Family Sustainability Award was a testament to my commitment to blending environmental, social, and cultural stewardship. My work doesn’t just critique—it rebuilds, fostering dialogue that leads to action.

With hundreds of published bylines across LA County, I transcend traditional art spaces, directly shaping public discourse. My engagement with organizations like The Armory Center for the Arts further cements my role in community-driven change.

For me, art is survival—a way to resist oppression simply by existing in a world that often silences people like me. My mission is personal: every piece I create is a defiance of erasure, a celebration of resilience, and a step toward lasting equity.

Alejandra, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I’m a Los Angeles-born-and-raised multimedia artist whose work lives at the intersection of art, activism, and Brown culture. As a first-generation Mexican-American, my identity fuels my mission: to use art as a tool for resistance and lasting change.

My journey into art and activism wasn’t a straight path—it was a necessity. Growing up deep in the heart of East LA in the San Gabriel Valley, I witnessed how marginalized communities were misrepresented or erased altogether. Frustrated by these gaps, I picked up a camera and began documenting the stories that mainstream media ignored in my backyard.

Over time, my work evolved from photojournalism into a multidisciplinary practice—blending digital media, community engagement, and cultural advocacy. With hundreds of published bylines across LA County, I’ve built a reputation for amplifying overlooked narratives while pushing creative boundaries.

My work spans multiple forms, but at its core, I provide: Provocative Visual Storytelling – Through photography, multimedia installations, and digital art. I challenge political narratives and center marginalized voices. I partner with nonprofits, cultural institutions, and grassroots movements to create art that drives dialogue and action. My work doesn’t just depict issues—it confronts them. Whether it’s immigration, environmental justice, or cultural preservation, I use my platform to demand visibility and change, and create agency for my community to raise their voice in safe and inclusive spaces.

I don’t separate my creative practice from my activism. Every piece I make is intentional, disruptive, and rooted in justice. My art isn’t made in a vacuum—it’s shaped by and for the communities I’m part of, from Pomona’s Team Hope Project to LA’s Biddy Mason Charitable Foundation.

My mission in my creative practice leads me to bodies of work I’m proud of, like Winning the Denhart Family Sustainability Award – it serves as recognition that my art can be both beautiful and transformative.When you engage with my work, you’re not just observing—you’re participating in a movement. I’m here to:
Challenge oppressive narratives, amplify silenced voices, and inspire action through creativity.
My art is a call, a confrontation, and a celebration—all at once. Whether you’re a potential collaborator, client, or follower, know that what drives me isn’t just aesthetics, but impact.

Let’s disrupt. Let’s create. Let’s change the story.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Early in my career, I absorbed the toxic myth that “real art” transcends politics—that to be taken seriously as an artist, my work needed to be “universal.” I was told that activism diluted artistic integrity, that blending my Mexican-American identity with my craft made it “too niche.” For a while, I tried to compartmentalize: Here’s my “serious” art; over there, my “activist” work.

But the more I suppressed my lived experiences—my family’s immigration stories, the systemic inequities I witnessed in LA, the erasure of Brown narratives in galleries—the emptier my art felt. I hit a breaking point covering a “Local Call To Action on Immigration Issues” in 2018 in the City of Pasadena. I couldn’t stay “neutral.” My camera became a weapon against silence.

I realized that neutrality is a fiction. Art has always been political—from Renaissance patronage to Picasso’s Guernica. What’s framed as “apolitical” is just art that upholds the status quo. The moment I embraced that my art should disrupt, that my identity belonged in my work, everything changed.

I stopped seeking validation from institutions that demanded my silence. I started collaborating with communities, not just “exhibiting for” them. I saw my role as an artist not just to reflect the world, but to reshape it.

This unlearning is why my work resonates. When I create concepts challenging narratives that oppress women within my culture, or when I created my What’s Your Sign? project- a portrait series aimed to capture the diverse perspectives, emotions, and stories of individuals engaged in political dialogue, providing a platform for voices often unheard. The project landed differently.
They weren’t “just art”—the portraits I captured are blueprints for action.
As artists, I feel our greatest artistic power lives at the intersection of our identity and our defiance.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

Life has a way of rerouting us when we least expect it. A few weeks ago, a simple misstep down the stairs fractured my left tibia, and just like that, the doctor’s orders reshaped my summer: “8 weeks no weight-bearing. Cancel everything.”

The news hit hard. So many plans—community actions, creative projects, moments I’d been eagerly anticipating—suddenly came to a halt. Now, immobile and wrapped in a cast from foot to mid-thigh, I’m navigating a new rhythm: one where my bed doubles as my desk, where painkillers dull the sharp edges but also my focus, and where asking for help isn’t optional but necessary.

Yet, in this forced stillness, I’m discovering something unexpected—a sacred space to reflect, recalibrate, and create from a place of raw vulnerability. This isn’t just recovery; it’s reimagining. I’m leaning into the discomfort, letting it teach me what it means to be fully present, to surrender control, and to trust in the support of others.

Yes, I’ll miss important gatherings and actions in my community, and that stings. But I’m reminding myself that healing is its own form of resistance—that caring for my body is part of the fight. And so, I’m turning this challenge into my next creative act: How can I alchemize this experience into something meaningful? How can this temporary fracture give rise to a body of work that speaks to resilience, adaptation, and the beauty of human fragility? This is how I know I’m a true artist. Turning to art as my coping mechanism for healing both my physical and mental being.

I don’t have all the answers. But I’m listening. I’m learning. And when the time comes, I’ll rise—not just back to where I was, but forward, with a deeper understanding of what it means to endure, to create, and to persist.

The cast may confine my leg, but it can’t contain my spirit.

Only time will tell what grows from this pause—but I know it will be powerful.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.corderononfictions.net/
• Instagram: @corderononfiction
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/alejandra-cordero-266a30312/

Image Credits

All Images by Alejandra Cordero