Fighting my Inner Demon

As I work on my paper I find myself stuck.It is thanks to you, the inner Dafne that doesnt think you can do it, that doesnt think youre worth it, the one that thinks youre not good enough. But you are. You know this stuff, you worked so hard all quarter because this class became your lifeline. If it wasn't for this class pushing you to your limit, pushing your ability as a writer, as a critical thinker, as an academic you wouldn't have survived this quarter. So many times your mind suffered, it weakened, you wanted to give up. But Dafne you didnt. Youre still alive and that counts for something. When the only thing you ever had to look forward to this whole quarter was this class, to be just in the same room as other people who have possibly suffered like you have, youre still alive. I say fuck you inner demon Dafne, you will not bring me down any longer. You can do this, and you will do this. Dont let this fucker stop you from doing your very best, because we both know your best is worth it, its good enough, and its within your reach.

The Beast of Times

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The Beast of Times, a play directed by Mark Valdez starring Adelina Anthony and D’Lo, was perhaps one of the most refreshing, hilarious, unpretentious, brilliant and painfully honest plays I have ever attended. The play examines political consciousness through animal characters that are personified as present day political activists (in the animal world). Issues such as conflicts within activist organizations and revolutions are brought to attention and the play made me think about the infinite complexities of society and how systems of oppression work in such intricate ways that make it difficult to reach definite conclusions for resolution.

How do we send out a universal message to the entire population of the world that is comprehensive and relatable for all? It seems impossible, because our identity politics are shaped through drastically different experiences as we all come from various environments, cultures, and families that give us different sets of challenges for each individual. Differences cause conflict oftentimes but, as philosophically cheesy as it sounds, I think the process of going through conflicts is what makes life a beautiful experience as we learn to understand things that we are first apprehensive about.

Being aware of the blatantly obvious forms of oppression and prejudice that the mass too often seems oblivious of can put one in a lonely and painful place, especially if the person experiences such prejudices directly as the victim of being a minority. For activists it may be incredibly frustrating, infuriating, and exhausting trying to fight for causes that never seem to be heard by the mass, but I think it’s important to remember that change takes time. The most we can do is continue to try our best by being the best person that we can be; by having our actions align with our core self and beliefs and setting examples for others. Each of our actions and beliefs count! After all, as Gloria Anzaldúa said (and as quoted in the play): “The revolution begins at home”.

CLOTHESLINE PROJECT Extra Credit Paper

I first found out about the Clothesline Project when I was attending my local community college. I was part of the Feminist Club and helped organize the event by making sign up sheets and gathering information from volunteers on campus but I didn’t participate in the actual process of hanging the shirts nor did I make a shirt myself. I couldn’t participate further because I was busy with my job, but subconsciously I think I was avoiding being surrounded by reminders of such horrific events that happen to people. I try my best to compartmentalize my emotions when I'm on campus.

I saw the shirts for the Clothesline Project being hung earlier this week on campus at UCLA, and I had to pass by the shirts on my way to class everyday this week. When I pass by I look straight ahead and avoid reading what’s written on those shirts because the idea of all these people who are hurt by violence makes my heart ache so much that I wouldn’t be able to compose myself in public if I took the time to read what’s written on the shirts. But for the sake of extra credit I decided to walk by the clotheslines to take a look at some of the shirts.

The themes were recurring: loss of voice, loss of self, loss of dignity, and loss of power through another person’s domination. What struck me the most though was the concurring message of all the shirts that the perpetrators were always men; it’s the men who are committing these horrific acts against women. Even the shirts that didn’t have a “he” pronoun to point out that a man committed the treachery most people assume that it’s always the woman who is a victim of a man. I tried searching for a shirt that indicated that a woman violated a man, or even a man violating another man, but couldn’t find any. It certainly happens, men are violated too in this world (I’ve sure been told some terrible personal stories from my male friends who have been raped) but where are the shirts made by men? I went on The Clothesline Project website online and of course I had stoopidly forgotten that this was a project started to address the issue of “violence against women” (as the website states). Ohhhhkay that’s why I didn’t see any shirts made by men!

Violence against women is one of the most talked about social issues today and it’s certainly relieving to hear about all these new projects, organizations, movements happening to support equality and dignity for women in this patriarchal world! But what about the men? Why don’t we talk extensively about how masculinity affects men? How it constrains and limits men from reaching their full potential? Or rather, why aren’t men speaking up about this? Even if there were a Clothesline Project for men who have been victims of violence would men participate?

Before today’s class I was in my Gender 185 Sex and Money course and we were speaking about how masculinity affects men in harmful ways, and again I notice that most of the people in the classroom were females talking about this issue and how the few men in the class rarely participate in discussions. I would love to see more men come forward to speak about their issues. I would love to see a society where we are accepting of the idea that men too are affected negatively by patriarchy, so that men can feel safe about sharing their vulnerability. Like I said, it’s so wonderful to see that discrimination against women is starting to be taken as a very serious topic that needs attention and resolution but women can’t tackle this problem on their own. Men need to see how patriarchy also harms men and stand up with women to make spiritual and social progress.

The divine masculine has been perverted into patriarchy and I think it’s finally time that men take on the courage to rebel against this atrocity that has been going on for too long.

On a side note… Quote of the moment: "If the 19th century was about ending slavery, and the 20th century was about ending totalitarianism, the 21st century is about ending the pervasive discrimination and degradation of women and fulfilling their full rights." –Hillary Rodham Clinton

And also, check out this article about sex trafficked boys The Forgotten Many: Sex-Trafficked Boys:

http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/social-justice-sex-trafficking-boys/

-Stephanie

Where Are You From?

Throughout the past week we have discussed borders, both metaphysical and physical and what they mean within our communities. Through these discussions, I felt the inclination of writing about my own borders and the relevance they hold on my intersecting identities. I write about self-transformation in the form of healing, something that Gloria Anzaldua writes about through understanding Mestiza Consciousness. As a womyn of color from immigrant parents, I write about what those identities mixed in with the wrath of patriarchy and Machismo look like in my own growth and upbringing. As well as recognizing that I am both privileged and disadvantaged in my life. With this, I share my thoughts and feelings while learning not only about Chicana Lesbian Literature, but also about myself and everything I encompass.

Where are you from?

I am from my mothers womb

connected to her soul

built and constructed inside her body

with a mixture of love for and abuse from

my father

I am from my mothers womb

created and fostered in the strawberry fields

and the sweet aroma of agriculture

molded with the hard working hands of my parents

I am stuck between two lands that do not want me

‘ni de aqui, ni de alla’

Pocha, gringa, Americana

indigena

I am from my mothers flesh and blood

'con miles heridas abiertas'

I continue to shed blood for the rape of my people

longing for a connection with my indigenous gente 

I am from my mothers skin

shedding the pain her mother passed down to her

I shed the machismo that left her bruised

I am healing

from the pain my mothers lived

and has survived.

I am surviving

for her, my home.

-Eunice C. Gonzalez-Sierra

Calle 13 is a Puerto Rican band that happens to be one of my favorite bands.
Just wanted to share a beautiful music video by them, Latinoamérica.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkFJE8ZdeG8

Here are the lyrics in both Spanish/Portuguese and English:


Soy, soy lo que dejaron, Soy las sobras de lo que te robaron,

Un pueblo escondido en la cima, Mi piel es de cuero por eso aguata cualquier clima,
Soy una fábrica de humo, Mano de obra campesina para tu consumo,
En el medio del verano, El amor en los tiempos del cólera,
Mi hermano!

Soy el que nace y el día que muere, Con los mejores atardeceres,
Soy el desarrollo en carne viva, Un discurso sin saliva,
Las caras más bonitas que he conocido, Soy la fotografía de un desaparecido,
La sangre dentro de tus venas, Soy un pedazo de tierra que vale la pena,
Una canasta con frijoles.

Soy Maradona contra Inglaterra Anotándole dos goles.
Soy lo que sostiene mi bandera, La espina dorsal de mi planeta, en mi cordillera.
Soy lo que me enseño mi padre, El que no quiere a su patria no quiere a su madre.
Soy América Latina un pueblo sin piernas pero que camina.

Tú no puedes comprar al viento,
Tú no puedes comprar al sol
Tú no puedes comprar la lluvia,
Tú no puedes comprar al calor.
Tú no puedes comprar las nubes,
Tú no puedes comprar mi alegría,
Tú no puedes comprar mis dolores.

Tengo los lagos, tengo los ríos, Tengo mis dientes pa cuando me sonrío,
La nieve que maquilla mis montañas, Tengo el sol que me seca y la lluvia que me baña,
Un desierto embriagado con pellotes, Un trago de pulque para cantar con los coyotes,
Todo lo que necesito!

Tengo a mis pulmones respirando azul clarito,
La altura que sofoca, Soy las muelas de mi boca mascando coca,
El otoño con sus hojas desmayadas, Los versos escritos bajo las noches estrelladas,
Una viña repleta de uvas, Un cañaveral bajo el sol en cuba,
Soy el mar Caribe que vigila las casitas, Haciendo rituales de agua bendita,
El viento que peina mi cabello, Soy todos los santos que cuelgan de mi cuello,
El jugo de mi lucha no es artificial porque el abono de mi tierra es natural.
Vamos caminando, vamos dibujando el camino!

Trabajo bruto pero con orgullo, Aquí se comparte lo mío es tuyo,
Este pueblo no se ahoga con marullos, Y si se derrumba yo lo reconstruyo,
Tampoco pestañeo cuando te miro, Para que te recuerdes de mi apellido,
La operación cóndor invadiendo mi nido, Perdono pero nunca olvido, oye!

Vamos caminado, aquí se respira lucha.
Vamos caminando, yo canto porque se escucha.
Vamos caminando, aquí estamos de pie.
Que viva Latinoamérica.
No puedes comprar mi vida!

I am
I am what that they left
I'm all about what that was stolen.
A village hidden on the peak,
My skin is from leather that's why it stands any weather.
I'm a factory of smoke,
A peasant working hand for your consumption
Cold Front in the middle of summer,
Love in the Time of Cholera, my brother.
The sun that is born and the day that dies,
with the best evenings.
I am developing raw,
a political speech without saliva.
The most beautiful faces I've met,
I'm the photograph of a missing person.
I'm the blood in your veins,
I'm a piece of land that is worth it.
I'm a basket with beans,
I'm Maradona against England scoring 2 goals.
I'm what that holds my flag,
the backbone of the planet is my Andes.
I'm what that my father taught me,
Who doesn't love his fatherland don't love his mother.
I'm Latin America,
People without legs but can walk

You can't buy the wind.
You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
You can't buy the heat.
You can't buy the clouds.
You can't buy the colors.
You can't buy my happiness.
You can't buy my pains.

I have the lakes, I have the rivers.
I have my teethes for when I smile.
The snow that puts make up on my mountains.
I have the sol that dries me and the rain that wash me
*A desert intoxicated with beautiful drinks of pulque
To sing with the coyotes is all that I need.
I have my lungs breathing clear blue.
The height that suffocates.
I'm the teethes that chew the Coca.
*The autumn with its dropping leaves
The lines written under the starry night.
A wineyard filled with grapes.
A sugar cane plantation under the Cuban sun.
I'm the Caribbean Sea watching over the houses,
Doing rituals of holy water.
The wind that combs my hair.
I'm all the saints that hangs from my neck.
The juice of my struggle is not artificial,
Because the fertilizer of my land is natural.

You can't buy the wind.
You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
You can't buy the heat.
You can't buy the clouds.
You can't buy the colors.
You can't buy my happiness.
You can't buy my pains.
(from purtuguese)
You can't buy the wind.
You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
You can't buy the heat.
You can't buy the clouds.
You can't buy the colors.
You can't buy my happiness.
You can't buy my sadness.

You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
(we are drawing the way, we are walking)
You can't buy my life.
MY LAND IS NOT FOR SALE.

Working hard but with pride,
Here we share, what's mine is yours.
These people can't be drawn with big waves.
And if it collapsed I'll rebuilt it.
*neither blink when I see you.
So that you'll remember my surname.
Operation Condor is invading my nest.
I forgive but I'll never forget!

(we are walking)
The struggle breathes here.
(we are walking)
I sing because it sounds.

Here we are standing.
Long live Latin America.

You can't buy my life.

TeamZami

After reading The Mixquiahuala Letters by Ana Castillo, I thought about how I have internalized oppression within myself. It is not a question I'm unfamiliar with having grown up as an immigrant, ethnic minority, and non-heteronormative female. However, how deeply have I truly pondered on this question for myself? I figure it's high time that I confront certain behaviors and attitudes that I carry in life, especially as a soon to be gender studies graduate. In the book, even though Teresa does not speak directly about lesbianism, the content of the letters is still presented with a lesbian narrative because of the social restrictions she faces in professing her love for Alicia due to patriarchal and sexist environments. Her culture demands that her virtues as a woman are virginity, submission to men, tolerance for pain, and childbirth. Living in a society that places these kinds of expectations on women prevent them from expressing, enjoying, and recognizing their sexuality and also renders female to female love as taboo and incomprehensible because it conflicts with the patriarchal definition of womanhood. Like Teresa, I cannot fully be open about my sexuality in certain situations in which deviating from the norm would cause me significant conflict. I have been in relationships with Latin men and my queer sexuality was completely hidden from the members of my partner's family because they would not approve of me if they knew. I have also had to keep secrets from my own family members of relationships I have had with women because I feared that they would attack my female partners verbally and emotionally. Also, if my mother knew about me taking LGBT courses at UCLA she would refuse to pay for my tuition. So even though I profess equality for all and tell people to be out, open, and proud about their sexual orientation, I still choose to hide this essential part of myself depending on the convenience of the situation. How do I battle this hypocrisy? I also often feel left out in the LGBTQ community whenever I'm monogamously dating a heterosexual man. It's as if I'm viewed as having "betrayed" my sexuality or even worse people think that I'm only pretending to love women periodically to get attention from straight men who think that bisexual females are a hot commodity.

Welcome to the Shadow Beast's Blog

This year we're going to try blogging on a real blogsite. Moodle, unfortunately, can't sustain these more creative ventures. So we're all going to use this blog for team posts and other postings related to the class that I might ask you to write.

Instructions: once you know what team you're going to be on, you should always LABEL your post according to your team's name. The labels must not have any spacing in them. For example, if you're in the Rubyfruit Jungle team, you would label your post TeamRubyfruitJungle. Or TeamZami or TeamGildaStories--all depending on which book you've chosen for your Midterm Report. Important: in order to earn Extra Credit points on your team's blog, you MUST label each team posting. You should also sign your full name to each post. The more material you add to your team post--such as photos of the author, a scan of the book cover, a book trailer or clips of the author reading from the book, and reviews of the book you're reading-- the more extra credit your team can earn. Exercise your creativity here.

You can also blog on this site just as an individual member of the class, which will have nothing to do with your team. Your Extra Credit work (an event or exhibition you attended, a play or movie you saw, which I've okayed as Extra Creidt) can be posted to the Blog. You should sign your name to each post, regardless of whether it's a team post or an individual post.

Graduate students, of course, may also post to this site, which you should label Grads. Guest speakers and others invited to view and comment on the blog should label their posts as Visitors.

Email me if you have any questions.

-- La Profe