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What Will Happen to Us? Finding Hope and Strength in Our Struggles in Light of a New Political Climate

My Undocumented Life

By ALFREDO GARCIA

unnamed(Ensayo en español: ¿Qué Será de Nosotros? Buscando Esperanza y Fortaleza en Nuestras Luchas a Luz de un Nuevo Clima Político)

All of us, as undocumented students, at some moment have come to realize the hard reality of our precarious and uncertain existence in the United States. When we applied to college, when we tried to get a driver’s license, when we tried to look for a job, the meaning of what it is to be undocumented was revealed to us. We saw how the doors that we thought were open closed because of the lack of a nine-digit number, and we lamented as we witnessed how our world full of aspirations became smaller. The most terrifying thought was to contemplate the possibility of deportation. In doing so, we deeply discovered the fragility of our presence in this country. This country that we call home and…

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Bitter Brown Girl

Rios de la Luz

strength From my personal Tarot del Fuego deck. Art by Ricardo Cavolo

I was a bitter brown girl. I clenched my fists and jaw when I saw the favoritism in my family for masculine energies and men. It’s a tone. It’s a glint in the eye. Like, being born a boy is automatically a milagro within itself. A warped kind of worshiping. There was white Jesus with his blonde hair and six-pack and there was also Luis. He had the same eye color as white Jesus. He was never a father to me. He was male gaze incarnate. The way he used to look into me, as though I was a woman at the age of seven. I used to dream in blues, underwater and sinking fast into the bottom of the ocean until a light shimmered on top of my head and forced me to look to the surface…

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To the White Boy Who Attempted to Colonize My Vagina

The World in My Head

Dear White Boy,

Once I came across a tumblr post that read something to the effect of “this white boy lookin at me like he wanna colonize my vagina.” I can’t remember who posted it or if there was any real context behind it, but it’s stuck with me ever since. I was especially reminded of it when I had my unfortunate encounter with you.

Everything about it was wrong. Your timing, your approach. Your race. I met you at a cocktail party in a friend’s room. You claimed to already know me from a class we’d had one year earlier, but for me, it was the first time being aware of your person, outside of that vague kid who spoke once or twice over the course of a semester. It could’ve been the start of a friendship, because that’s what I think about when I first meet people…

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You claim

You claim that I have no relationship with you,

you claim that I should just go back,

you claim that it is not your problem,

you claim that I am illegal,

you claim that I shouldn’t be here,

you claim the drugs you buy,

that so happens to come from the cartels that burned down my home,

the ones that raped my mother,

the ones that sold my sister to prostitution.

you claim the shows that entertain you about my suffering

Narcos,

Savages,

you claim music that drops the beat

idolizes a man that has only brought my country into shreds as a God

and you still proclaim I have no right to be here.

Where can I turn? I ask you.

Where can I turn when you are supporting these savages’ destruction of my country?

You claim only about your consumerism

you claim you can do anything with your money.

I claim that that’s the problem

your culture has socialize you to give a piece of paper more value than a human life.

Stench

If I stay on the curb,

to take the jobs

YOU do not want,

I am overtaking space.

I have insulted YOU

for your

laziness

If I attend an university and

pass with honors

I am just a criminal

for being brought illegally

I will be SHIT

-mierda to you

for the rest of my days

-Nada mas que mierda

Accumulating

the stench increases more and more as

you keep complaining of my

presence

I am too sick of the stench that I have been placed upon at age 7

It has augmented so much that I have

been buried in it

The moist waste

slowly

turns into crusty solid

as years pass by

I have been raised to tolerate the smell and to not

complain in front of anyone because its a Latino problem

I am tired of this shit that has

been stuck to my skin

ever since I came out of the water

-Mojada

I am tired of thinking of suicide

when the stench has invaded

my brain

lungs

I am tired of shivering

with fear

when I think I do not deserve to live

Even through all this darkness,

I understand the concept of natural selection

but who are you to decide if I survive?

My cells have already mutated to take this shit

We’ll just see who is the fittest.

Until then enjoy the stench

Con Los Ojos Cerrados

Te beso con los ojos cerrados

siento el calor de tus labios

mojados, cálidos, delicados

pero los míos han sido traicionados,

utilizados,

infectados.

Tu no quieres esto

solo te pido que te quedes a mi lado

y que tomes mi mano

mientras te beso con los ojos cerrados

Yo Soy

¿Para que vinimos?

¿Solo por un gusto económico?

Todo el esfuerzo

el dolor; tristeza

y llanto

¿para que?

¿para solo quedar cómodo con lo que uno tiene?

¿en un pais donde los sueños son posibles?

Si venimos solo por el dinero, ¿dónde está mi triunfo?

Todo el sacrificio, separación, llanto y sudor que derrame

¿fue en vano?

iNo!

Esto solo comienza

no me aceptaran y me humillaran

pero sabran quien SOY

Mi oportunidad no será desperdiciada

y menos no conocida

Agarrate bien que esto va rápido

el tiempo no para y tu tampoco

Viviré cada momento hasta construir la vida que quiero

la que me merezco

la que te mereces

venimos a triunfar

a representar

revolucionar

cambiar

como nos ven

como nos vemos nosotros

no solo soy un pedazo de papel

soy una vida

soy un Dreamer!

La Isla de Nunca Jamas/ Neverland (November 2014)

Una noche calida de verano, la ventana grito con gran llanto

Una sombra toco mi pequeña frente mientras dormia

Me tomo de la mano y volamos

“Vamos a un lugar donde hay igualdad”, me dijo.

“Donde se encuentra este lugar” le pregunte.

“Muy lejos de aqui, solo los que creen, pueden entrar”

“Es un lugar donde los sueños se hacen realidad”, afirmo.

El viaje fue extenso, tenia hambre y sed pero mi curiosidad era mas intensa.

En la distancia se escuchaba la tambora de Great Big Little Panther,

Una hermosa princesa humilde nos recibio y un apuesto joven nos acobijo.

Me dio tanta alegria de ver tanta felicidad y libertad.

En imaginar que todos mis deseos se pudieran realizar!

Que gozo, que alivio!

Podre darles la vida que se merecen mis padres…

Oh

Mis padres…

Podran venir a este lugar?

Tendran que creer aunque su infancia llego y paso.

Yo los combersere!

Le pedi a la sombra que fuera por mis padres

Implore

Suplique

Y llore.

“Tus padres son muy viejos para creer”

“Tu decides si te quedas aqui o te vas”

“Pero recuerda, que nunca volveras a entrar, a la isla de Nunca Jamas!”.

No sabia que hacer.

Con la esperanza en la garganta deseaba todos los dias que se cambiara esta ley

Y pudiera ver a mis padres una ultima vez.

Neverland

In the warmth of a summer night, the window cried open.

A shadow placed its hand on my small forehead while I slept.

He took my hand and we flew.

“We are going to a place where there is equality”, he said.

“Where is this place?”, I inquired.

“Far away from here, only the ones that believe can enter”

“It’s a place where dreams come true,” he affirmed.

The journey was extensive, hunger and thrist dominated me, but my curiosity gained intensity.

In the distance, Great Big Little Panther’s drum roll played,

A beautiful princess received us and a handsome young man sheltered us.

It was wonderful to see so much joy and liberty!

Just to think that all my wishes could come true!

What pleasure, what relief!

I can finally give my parents the life they deserve!

Oh

My parents…

Could they come to this place?

They have to believe even though their childhood came and left.

I will convince them!

I asked the shadow to escort my parents.

I implored

I begged

I cried.

“Your parents are too old to believe”

“You decide if you stay or leave”

“But remember you can never come back to Neverland!”

I didn’t know what to do.

With hope stuck at my throat, I wished every day that the law be changed

And could see my parents one last time.

Somebody

When you are no one,

I mean,

NO ONE,

that not even the government wants to recognize you as a human,

you get this urgence to become

somebody,

whom they cannot turn away from.

(Echenle’palante mi gente!)

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