Feminista de Corazon

7 Dec

Inauguracion: El Centro Historico de Bogota, Colombia recibio a mas de 1,200 mujeres para el XII Encuentro Feminista de Latino America y del Caribe.

What happens when 1,200 feminist women in Latin America gather? An abundance of love, laughter, and a critical analysis on the state of humanity occurs. On November 23rd through the 26th of 2011, Bogota, Colombia hosted the XII Encuentro Feminsta de Latino America y del Caribe. The first official gathering happened in Colombia 30 years ago with 189 women present. Since then the Encuentro has taken place in Mexico, Brazil, El Salvador, and other Latin American countries while growing tremendously in the number of participants.

The theme, “Desatar, Desnudar, y Reanudar”/ “Untie, Uncover, and Renew”, set the platform for discussing feminism in the context of power, politics, religion, identity, sexuality, human rights, war, violence, economics, self-care, culture and art. Every greeting, every workshop, presentation and discussion came with the perspective of a woman first and foremost. This way of talking, thinking, and being created a sense of empowerment and self-worth for every woman present. The gathering gave a safe space for our stories to unfold.

Mujeres Bolivianas: Five percent of the women in attendance identified themselves as indigenous.

At the Encuentro, every woman has a voice, whether that woman is indigenous or afro-descendent, urban or rural, an elder or a teenager, lower or working class. During the gathering some women are questioning their feminist identity and others are remembering they were born a feminist. With so much talk about feminism how do women in Latin America define feminism? It turns out that the gathering does not define feminism because to define it is to limit the movement and essentially that would contradict the fight against the limitations set upon us.

Instead, let me be a proponent of feminist manifestations according to what I witnessed during this 12th gathering; Feminism is the woman who shares her testimony about the eight year incarceration and sexual violations she survived during the Fujimori dictatorship. Feminists are the Quechua indigenous women who documented over 300,000 forced sterilizations in Peru who will not remain silenced. Feminism is about the woman born in a man’s body reclaiming her gender and identity. Feminism is about sex education to prevent pregnancy, access to contraceptives in order to not face abortions, and the demand for safe, legal, and free abortions so that women do not die. Feminism is also about the courage my mother had to cross borders in order to survive the 21st century.

Many women no longer identify themselves as feminist from fear of judgments or the lack of connection to feminist movements.  Many women are indeed feminist in their practice as organizers, artists, care-givers, and workers but have stayed away from the title. As for me, it is interesting to note that at the age of nine I was vowing to never marry or depend on a man. My feminism had already begun.

My feminism has also transformed since age nine. As an adult woman who has healed from her fears and inherited traumas of violence, I now believe that love and freedom can coexist between male and female relationships. And since my first Latin American and Caribbean Feminist Gathering in Mexico City in 2009, I have reclaimed my feminist identity from a place of love for humanity.

Ritual de Apertura: Women encircle a mandala representing the four directions, the elements, and the vagina during the opening ceremony to the conference.

What is felt during the Encuentro Feminista is excitement, respect, and inspiration. What is seen are hundreds of women from the margins of war-torn countries, impunity driven justice systems, and catechist run countries lifting their voices in unison as feminists. What I understand about the feminist movement in Latin America is that it exists because women refuse to remain silent and suffer at the hands of the state, the church, or their partners. As one feminist related, “La politica del feminismo es la politica de la desobedencia / the politics of feminism, is the politics of disobedience!” In other words, to obey “tradition” has meant that women have had to give up their thoughts, their opinion, even their own bodies. These experiences where women have felt a loss of power, freedom, and safety have driven women to disobey, unite, and take action for humanity. Feminism exists because it believes that every human being has the right to live a free and dignified life.

The next Latin American and Caribbean Feminist Gathering will happen in 2013 in Peru, South America. Currently there is a contingent of first generation women from New York, which includes representatives from AF3IRM, who will be attending the next gathering. Is there a Los Angeles feminist contingent out there? It is encouraged to reclaim our feminist identity and feel it from a place of love, liberation and justice. Vamos!

For a full photo-essay on the conference go here or www.af3irm.org, all photographs(c) taken by Lei Lani Montes (AF3IRM NY Coordinator)

For official information on this year’s gathering go to: www.12encuentrofeminista.org.

This piece will be published on December’s issue of Brooklyn and Boyle. 

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Nada es imposible!

22 Nov

Often times I’ve dreamed and hoped that one day ill get to travel and paint walls.  Even though walls are by far my favorite way of doing an art piece, they are not always the easiest to find…legally. Needless to say that combining the dream of painting on walls abroad has seemed far fetched…

And then I was in Xela sitting at Cafe R.E.D.. I got to talk to the owner, Willy, and pretty soon i learned a whole history of activism, revolution, spirituality, hopes, and dreams. Cafe R.E.D. is an awesome space with food, music, poetry, and film nights.  The walls are covered with amazing murals and photography. I mentioned to Willy that I was also an artist and he surprised me by inviting me to paint at the cafe. I said YES! and I returned the following week with brushes and a sketch book in my hands. The wall i painted was on a cute little balcony on the 2nd floor overlooking the cafe’s patio. 

my sister Maria helping out her little sister paint!

I learned that paint back at home in LA is really good paint bc what I was working with was kind of a hassle. It took several layers of paint to get the true colors out. Ni modo. It was part of the experience and it was still fun...

Almost done... it's the details that complete the vision ...

It’s a compliment when other’s think an art piece is done and it’s really not. It’s only done when the artist thinks its done. The details complete the vision. The vision lies within.

Soy Libre, ~7' x 5', 2011 (c)

The text reads: “Soy libre como el colibri. Vuelo desde las montanas Inkas hasta los templos Mayas. Al segui mi vuelo visito templos de Teotihuacan. Descanzo en tierras del Huichol y tomo medicina. A un mas lejos llego con amigos Apache, Navajo, Hopi, y Chumash…”

Because CAFE R.E.D.’s birth comes from a story of migration and a fight for liberation I wanted to paint a mural that proclaimed freedom. Birds are a representation of freedom for me and the only bird that is found in both North, Central, and South America are Hummingbirds. The flower has the America’s painted on it because our lands are beautiful, majestic, and fruitful. I painted a Mayan glyph symbol of the moon to honor divine femininity. And that more or less is my piece in Guatemala.

I feel really happy about contributing art in Guatemala. I would love to paint again and again in Guate. There are many huge cinder block walls that need color. Graffiti has been coming up in Guate… maybe next time ill get to spray paint…

Graffiti and Street Paving in Xela

As i continued my own flight across the America’s, my next stop was Panama. I shared some of this experience on my previous blog, aqui. The last two nights in Panama i stayed at a hostel in the historic town of Panama City. Panama City sits on the Pacific Ocean side and it is crazy, it has overgrown immensely, lending itself to tourism. (PIX will be uploaded later) Colon, which is the canal’s city on the Atlantic side is a mess… it seemed to me that it is forgotten and poverty overrides the streets. The Panama Canal expansion is set to open in 2014 and Panama City is very much rapidly changing and preparing itself for its GRAND Opening to the world. The canal is indeed impressive, even more impressive is the amount of cargo that passes through. Most of it going to the States where we consume, consume, and consume… Anyways, I learned alot about the history of Panama and there’s still so much more to understand.

All that to say that I was in the historic, colonial looking side of Panama City sitting in a hostel when i read that they need art in exchange for free a room. So i asked and that same afternoon I began painting… the only colors they had were purple and white… ni modo …

Nade es Imposible!, 5' x 8', 2011

The turtle says: Nada es imposible, tienes toda tu vida para alcanzar tus suenos… Nothing is impossible, you have your whole life to reach all of your dreams.

I wrote as a reminder for myself and a womyn named Maria, she works at the hostel cleaning rooms and she came to peek at my painting. We ended up talking for a good hour and she shared with me the story of her children. Her oldest daughter is 21 and she birthed her when she was only 17. Her daughter recently graduated from college and she told me that her daughter’s success was also her own success and dreams reached. We talked alot but i mentioned to her what I learned about turtle wisdom, which is that they know they have their whole life time to do everything they want to do. I remind myself to take it easy, i will reach my dreams, we all do… and so far I got to paint on walls in Guatemala and in Panama…I hope there’s a wall for me in Colombia…

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From Volcanoes to Jungles and Islands

18 Nov

Walking thru humid weather feels as though my spirit has lived in the jungle before. El calor humido sobre mi cuerpo se siento rico y me da nostalgia de algun pasado vivido…

Hace una semana andava encima de un volcan debajo de la luna llena. Habia un friaso que hasta me dio dolor de cabeza. Usually when your hiking, you wanna take off layers of clothing, but as i kept climbing the volcano, it kept getting colder, and colder… ice cold. La noche que subi el volcan Santa Maria bajo la temperatura a menos de zero grados C. Estava super cansada al llegar arriba, mi respiracion me costo. Me dormi un ratito y desperte con el amanecer de el solesito. Poco a poco, el sol calentava la tierra y mi ser. Encima del volcan di un oracion y un agradecimiento al creador, los ancestros, y las quatro direcciones.

Full Moon Hike: Sunrise behind Atitlan, Solola (Elevation: 12, 375 ft.)

The rise of the sun over Guatemala/Quetzaltenango 11.10.11

Xela! My mother's hometown!!!!

Hi! Im hella tired, my feet hurt, and I dont wanna climb down!!!

This week I find myself among lush green palm trees, yerbas, y plantas. Its green and humid everywhere in Panama. Im in shorts and a tank top everyday. I’ve gone swimming in the Atlantic several times now, and ive gone to a couple islands. On one island we climbed all the way to the top and found a radio tower of sorts. We climbed up the tower and were at eye’s view of the entire island and the Atlantic Ocean. A friend that’s hosting me took the time to do some soul searching and i took the time to ponder on the definition and concept of a soul mate. What else are you suppose to do but think deep wonders about life when you’re overseeing so much beautiful earth and ocean before you …

Encima de Isla Grande, Panama

Volando sobre el Mar Atlantico

Panamanian Public Transit: El Bumpin' Party Bus

Soulmate: Alguien que quiere andar en las mismas aventuras conmigo! Alguien que no te corta las alas y vuela tambien!

This year ive had many of these moments where im among breathtaking views of the Earth and I feel that I have to be at the right place at the right time in my life.  What else can one do but give thanks, feel blessed, feel confident in your path, and look forward to the future.

La Puerta Hacia el Futuro

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Witness to a feminist movement in Guatemala

25 Oct

I made it! To Guatemala. The plane ride sucked. I left LAX at 2am and woke up from time to time on the plane. When the sunrise showed thru the window, it was absolutely beautiful. A thin orange and red glow outlined the top of mountains and the navy darkness covered the rest of the open sky. 

On Monday I went to check out my friend Kimberly Bautista’s film, Justice For My Sister. This film is about a womyn and her relentless efforts to fight impunity and convict the murderer of her sister. Even though her family is threatened, she continues to fight head on for her sister. In the struggle for her sister, she opens a fight larger than herself. It is a fight where a whole nation of womyn are seeking justice and an end to impunity. It was shown at a gathering of organizers preparing themselves to take on a nation wide campaign to help womyn against violence. My cousin, my mom and sister went with me. I’m so glad that they went. 

I had not seen the film in LA. But I am glad I saw it in Guatemala. The discussion after the film was so raw and truthful.   Every womyn that spoke yesterday has a personal story to share about how patriarchy and machismo has hurt them in their lives. One womyn shared how she hid her pregnancy until the day after she graduated from school. She was afraid her father would not let her finish her education. There is an ever growing urgency by womyn to demand an end to a culture that has allowed womyn to be mistreated, under-educated, raped, and killed. 

Violence against womyn happens at so many levels in Guatemala and around the world. But i sense a movement that is only growing bolder, stronger, and louder. This movement is telling boys and men to help womyn take care of the home. It is pleading with men to stop hitting their partners and instead learn to communicate and create harmony at home. It is telling men to take responsibility within their fatherhood. It’s telling society to respect single mothers. That a womyn’s body belongs her and not to a man or the state. This movement has recognized that their is war on womyn’s bodies and it needs to end. 

Silence is ending. Today i went to a womyn’s art festival, El Festival Ixchel. It is a 2 week long series of events organized by womyn. They have created spaces for womyn to showcase their art, sculpture, photography, graffiti, film, poetry, and music. Tonight i saw a series of short films made by Guatemalan womyn. Each film is dynamic, taking on multiple issues that affect womyn. One of my favorite short films was done by a collective of Indigenous womyn from Solola named Asociación Centro de mujeres comunicadora mayas “Nutzij”. You can check here and here to learn about them.

I am witnessing a feminist movement in my mother’s homeland. It is not a new movement, but it is colorful. It makes sense, Guatemala is very colorful! 

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Me Voy

21 Oct

Im leaving again. This time its not for youth work or to escape. Im going to Guatemala to spend time with my family. Then I am hopping over to Panama. Ive never been to Panama and im so happy that I get to see this part of Central America. One of my goals in life is to visit every Latin American country. So far I’ve been to Brazil, Jamaica, Mexico, & Guatemala. During this trip im checking off Panama and Colombia on my list!

While in Colombia I will be attending the 12th Latin American Feminist Conference, aka: El Encuentro Feminista. I attended the conference in Mexico City in 2009 and I was in full bliss to sit among 1,600 self-proclaimed feminist. Since then i have reclaimed my identity as a proud feminist womyn. I’ve chosen to define my feminism. One that encompasses compassion, healing, & self-care. One that talks back when disrespected. One that builds with womyn. And also

one that builds with men bc they are our fathers, brothers, cousins, friends, and sometimes our partners.  I do art, work with youth, walk my spiritual path, and it all fits within my feminist identity.

I will return in December. My birthday month! So i”ll see you then and trust! we are gonna celebrate the Sagitarius reign when i get back! 

Below are two videos inviting womyn from all walks of life to the feminist gathering. Even if you think you’re not a feminist, most likely you are… check it out! 

 

 

more videos herehttp://www.12encuentrofeminista.org/pagina.php?p_a=26&d=videos-encuentros-feministas-latinoamericanos-y-del-caribe

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Cindi Santana and the Ovarian Psycos

14 Oct

Memorial for Cindi Santana @ Coyolxauqui Plaza | Oct. 12, 2011

The October Luna Ride:

And so it happened, the full moon showed up from the northeast and i left my house on my bike. I took the train to union station and biked to Hollenbeck Park, the meeting grounds for this month’s Luna Ride. The Luna Rides are called together by the lovely and beautiful Ovarian Psycos, aka the Ovas! Representing Womyn’s independence, sacredness and wildness at full speed, i joined these ladies to ride with the warm October wind.

As we left the park i counted 28 of us and took up a whole car lane. With the full moon on our east side in full bloom, i thought to myself, “we exchanged brooms for bikes but not our spirits”. Our bike route that night would take us to the Moon Goddess, Coyolxauqui, literally. A  replica of the Moon Goddess Monument that was excavated from Templo Mayor, sits in City Terrace, East LA. Here we would gather for ceremony to honor and remember Cindi Santana and the victims/survivors of domestic violence. Cindi Santana lived to be 17years old, a senior high school student in South Gate, CA that was beaten and stabbed by her ex-boyfriend. Youth dating violence is not new, its older than the time my mother was first hit by her partner 40 years ago. And it is more wide-spread than we could ever imagine:  ”One in three adolescents in the U.S. is a victim of physical, sexual, emotional or verbal abuse from a dating partner.” (1)

Domestic violence is a truth that has lingered in my life since before me (my gramma ancestors survived rape and pillage from Europeans, the church, and eventually her partners). When i was in the womb i was already aware of domestic violence, as my mom survived, so did I… Along with 1 out of every 4 womyn. (2)

As we remembered Cindi, we told stories to heal ourselves from pasts that sometimes we bury in shame. Many prayers  and offerings were shared during our ceremony. I want to re-write some of those prayers and share them with you: 

Prayer for children who are surviving domestic violence with their mothers

Prayers for sisters, cousins, mothers, and friends who have survived domestic violence.

Prayers for sisters, cousins, mothers, and friends who have been murdered by their partner. 

Prayer for the mother of Cindi Santana

Prayer for men

Prayer for womyn to speak up if they are in a violent relationship.

Prayer for womyn to walk away from violent relationships.

Prayer for womyn’s eyes to see their own worth and value.

Prayer for womyn’s heart, womb, and mind. 

I wouldn’t usually share sacred prayers said in ceremony, but bc we need to talk about violence in our homes and in our relationships, i have to let people know why we do what we do. I have to share why as a womyn, wefind ourselves in ancient ceremonies as helicopters, cars, and flashing lights fill our urban lifetime. Our realities may not always be understood, but its time for a change in how we love, respect, and honor our womb and our womyn. If your partner is a womyn, take the time to reflect in the ways you love and honor her. And if you dont do this to the best of your ability, humble yourself to change, learn from her, and be a better person. 

If you’re a womyn who finds herself in an fucked up, whack ass, messed up, fearful, emotionally tolling, stressful, worry-some, and/or trapped situation, speak up. Get help. There is help. Start with asking your mom, she knows more than anyone about survivorship. Tell a sister, a friend, a cousin. Call a toll-free number. Listen to your spirit and fight for your freedom. We have to be free! We have to! 

Infinite Fuerza by Ajtun, 2008 (c)

(1) Information found at LoveisRespect.Org 

(2) Information found at Domestic Violence Resource Center

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Guatemala, Belize, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama

4 Oct

CENTRAL AMERICAN FILM FESTIVAL

October 19-21 | 2011

12PM – 8PM

@ the Charles E. Young Research Library,

 Main Conference Room | UCLA

art by Ana Ruth Castillo

 

Central America’s recent films emerge out of the ashes of political turmoil, war, immigration, and uneven development. To bring a ention to the region and its issues as well as its vibrant culture and artistic creativity, this festival presents films by both emerging and established artists. 

Highlights include La Yuma, the first Nicaraguan film in forty years and Amor y Frijoles, a gem of Honduras’ nascent film industry, among many
others. The festival kicks off with the documentary Paradise for Sale, which will be preceded by a short introduction by filmmakers Anayansi Prado and Carolina Rivera.

The complete schedule is available at http://www.library.ucla.edu/news/14124.cfm.
Admission is free, and no reservations are required; seating is on a first-come basis.

Co-sponsored with the UCLA César Chávez Department of Chicana and Chicano Studies and the Latin American Institute

 

 

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An Open Letter to Ms. Yates on Granito: How to Nail a Dictator

3 Oct

Dear Ms. Pamela Yates,

I went to the opening of Granito in Los Angeles.  I am thankful and I appreciate the work, time, and energy you have given to the people of Guatemala. When I went to see the film, I did not imagine that the story would be told in such a personal manner. Most journalists or film makers seem to take the back seat because they are so set on telling the story of others, but your personal accounts weave this story together beautifully.  I really appreciate the humanness you have shown through your film making.

There is something you said in your film describing your commitment and connection to Guatemala:

“Guatemala wrapped its arms around my soul and wouldn’t let it go…”

I get it. Through your film, you shared with us what you had witnessed and there’s no way your soul, your being, could not have been impacted so greatly during your time in Guatemala…

I have seen a number films about Guatemala, including Searching for Dominga, Killer’s Paradise, and La Limonada. The level of violence, suffering, and injustice is so extreme and heavy, that it never stops feeling like you can detach yourself from Guatemala. I want to share with you my connection with Guatemala…

I was born in 1982 in Los Angeles. The first in my family to not have been born in Guatemala. When i was a girl I would turn to the index pages of history books, hoping to find something on Guatemala. But hardly anything was ever accessible to me in that way. Before I turned 15, instead of having a quinceanera, I asked my mom to take me to Tikal, Peten. I haven’t stopped drawing pyramids since…

I was not witness to Guatemala in the 1980′s, the height of the repression, the massacres, the disappearances, the reflection of the devil upon earth. However, since I was a little girl, I knew something was wrong in my mother’s country. During my first visits to Guate as a 5, 7, & 9 yr old,  poverty became a concept i began to understand, i would question why my mom’s country was so poor, children my age were begging for food, why are people living so different??? I tried to comprehend the poverty, the alcoholism, and the oppression. I did not have the vocabulary, but i saw something that made me uncomfortable deep inside. When I went to college at UC Santa Cruz, I naturally fell into Latin American and Latino Studies. I had an intense need to learn about Guatemala and Latin America.  My mind has acquired a historical, economical, and political understanding of what went wrong in my ancestral land, but my spirit still mourns.

It saddens me, to know that so much potential for a more righteous and just Latin America was on the brink of existence during the 20th Century. Cuba was the kickoff, but the dreams of Chile, Salvador, Nicaragua, Guatemala, etc.,  were over-taken by the CIA, military coups, and U.S. installed dictatorships. Through U.S. tax dollars, war has been funded countless times. And in the 1980′s, dollars manifested into Genocide and Femicide in Guatemala.

Where are we now? Where is Guatemala… how are people living and surviving? One look at the cover of La Prensa Libra will tell you the violence never stopped. And the trauma has not healed. My cousin, a 20 years old, was murdered in Huehuetenango during March of this year. He left behind his wife, a baby girl, and a grieving mother. His baby girl will grow up and find the story of his father in the newspaper, but the newspaper captured a lie. The town will tell her the truth, and she will be filled with fury to learn that men dressed in uniforms, murdered her father. I will tell her about the donuts his father and I use to eat when we were kids. But that is all I can offer…

Where are we now? I couldn’t answer it completely. It makes my stomach turn upside down. My entire family is in Guatemala. I hear lots of stories; good, bad, evil, miraculous… I will be in Guatemala in a few weeks. I will be spending time with my family. We will catch up, I will find my little cousins that are 5-10 inches taller than last year, the kids are becoming teenagers, and the family keeps growing. I look forward to the story telling, it’s always the best! I will share with my family for a moments worth, then i will fly away from that reality… but Guatemala also holds my heart and my spirit in its hands…

I’ve added a little granito here and there for Guatemala. There was a time when I produced a radio program for womyn that aired in Guatemala. I organized film screenings for two Guatemalan documentaries. I created a collective of womyn called Chapinas Unidas to raise awareness about the femicide in Guate. We participated in the women’s march in Los Angeles in 2008 and also held a conference with an all womyn panel of speakers who were survivors of violence in Guatemala. I still write about Guatemala and inform my friends about what I’ve learned and experienced. In the past couple of years, my granito turned inwards, and i began my own healing, including the healing of inherited traumas. I want to add more granitos de arena, if I can contribute to the next steps of the film, I am open to learning more. In the meantime, Ill encourage my friends to go watch the film!

Take care. Know that you are meant to be safe and protected on your journey. The helicopter falling captures that miracle, the access you were granted is of no coincidence. Everyone has a purpose to follow and I thank you for being a messenger of our people, sharing our stories through film,  and having the courage to act on a purpose bigger than yourself. 

Con Amor, Respeto, y Agradecimiento,

Ana Ruth Castillo

For friends who are reading this open letter, please add Granito thru your facebook: http://www.facebook.com/granitofilm and go catch the film at the Laemmle

Granito de Arena = a film and a humble expression of a collective process for change

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I remember Santa Cruz

27 Sep

This past weekend I returned to Santa Cruz for my 2nd time since graduating in 2006. It’s been 5 years of forgetting, forgiving, and healing from the college/first love/subtly racist hippie town experience. I was unable to return for a while, some of my last memories were painful. I remember when i left i was running away from the Ana in that town. How i got to that town had similar causes…Going to UC Santa Cruz was my ticket out of South Central Los Angeles when I was 18. and between the ages of 18 and 23 I learned to make friends, pass classes, and get by in an affluent, white, expensive-organic food eating, subtly racist beach town…

I grew a lot in Santa Cruz. One post could not capture it all. Lets just say this place offered a wide range of experiences. Positive and negative. I delved a lot into identity politics. I organized on campus for issues that truly concerned me as a student of color. I believed in the retention and outreach of students of color into the university system. I believed in education for people like me. I spoke out at ignorant comments in class. And realized by my third year that I was spending too much time and energy being angry bc I had to explain and defend myself. I worked at finding a place for myself at the university. I found friends through organizing. I remember the threat of resources and mentors being cut out, tuition hikes every year, and my classes holding only a handful of students of color.

Around town, i remember the restaurant with the server that looked down on me for being brown, i remember shopping at Trader Jose for the first time in my life and a man giving me dirty looks for shopping at his store. I remember fighting with a roommate because she was White. damn… I remember when I didn’t want to be angry anymore…

I remember ghost stories. I remember where the caves and best views of the ocean were. I remember walking down windy downtown streets, looking for hot coffee and a quiet place to study. I remember surfers, sunny days, and someone I fell in love with.

I remember the break up. It wasn’t easy, and the poor communication or lack of courage in communicating only hurt the situation.I remember the changes in me as a person. I remember i could only stretch and grow so much in Santa Cruz. I remember a court case where a supposed “friend” did not want to return my deposit money. I remember that woman lying. I remember the friends that believed her and stopped being my friends. yup…

I remember being jailed. I was on my way home, i was pulled over while I was trying to exit HWY 1 to get home on Soquel Ave. I was questioned, made to jump, walk a straight line, and count 30 seconds. I was fine, coherent, but brown. I was trying to get home. I remember them shinning their light in my eyes, blinding and blurring my eyesight. I remember the breathalyzer breaking and they couldnt prove i was intoxicated. I remember it did not matter to them whether i was drunk or not, they wanted to be in the right. I was humiliated, taken to a hospital.  They made me wait for a 3rd person’s opinion on whether or not i was drunk… those stupid cops couldnt decide on their own. i walked a straight line again. I walked straight. But it did not matter, I was hand-cuffed. I was put in jail. I was fuckin cold. I was angry. again.

I never had to go to court. My case was thrown out by the DA. There was no evidence against me. duh. I was only brown.

I am from South Central/the South Bay. I was in my early 20′s. And there were a lot of things that were being figured out during that period of growth. I didn’t go back to Santa Cruz bc th growing pains were too close to my heart and my identity. I didn’t go back because i wanted to desperately forget. In my own healing, i learned to forgive myself. I learned to let go of the hurt. I kept growing…

I went back this past weekend. I had fun. I had really good breakfast food. I went back to the old places i really enjoyed eating at. I still went to the best place i know where the waves crash. A place where my friend and i made friends with a gopher. I saw dolphins in the waves. I walked around a chilly downtown. i had breakfast with a friend and we questioned what really happened to us. Sometimes you dont want to believe someone said something to you or looked at you funky because of the color of your skin. But…it did happen… over and over…

I bought a clif bar at trader joes. The rich hippies and the homeless are still there. Homeless folks can’t collect plastic from trash cans, they will be cited. Homeless folks also cant pick food out of the Whole Foods or any food’s trash bin. Its illegal to take someone else’s trash in Santa Cruz. Classism exists. So does Racism.

I wish I didnt see these things. I wish they were made up in my head. But these inhumane, disrespectful subtleties happen. Everyday. Sometimes worst.

I remembered why i left and didnt go back.

Trust, i rather remember my friends, why i stayed there for 5 years,  and called it my home back then…

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Full Cirle

29 Aug

Circles are made to create unity. Circles and cycles mark the movement of the stars, the Earth and the Universe. Seasons and blessings come in cirles. And we live the sacred circle of life.

Visiting Medicine Wheel: Sacred Circle

In June of 2010 I was in Cypress Park holding my first Solo Exhibition of my art-work. Exactly one year later, a full circle was marked. I was in Cypress Park again, at Nightingale Middle School, directly across the street from the art space where my solo happened. This time, I was introducing myself to the parents and the youth I was going to embark on a journey with for the summer. Previous to this day, tt had been unclear whether or not I would be a camp counselor. The position i applied for was denied to me, but I did not realize the true blessings behind the change in positions. My ancestors and Creator was in the process of answering my prayers and they made the switches to place me as a counselor with high school students returning for their second year of leadership development in Wyoming. Instead of being stationed at a camp site, I was going to hike over 50+ miles at Big Horn National Park with 2 different groups of young womyn from Los Angeles.

C5 Dollz on our hardest day of hiking!

Trek Counselors and Guides at 9810

Photographs and words could not describe the magic and the blessings of the sights and sounds I experienced. I made friendships with trek guides from New Jersey, Maryland, Texas, Ohia, and Cali. I made strong bonds with high schools students spread through out Los Angeles, from Huntington Park to South Central, to Northridge. I taught, I learned, I cried, I laughed, I climbed, and I swam, but what I did most was thank Creator everyday for the beauty before me. Whether it was mountain peaks and Lost Lakes or the youth and their everlasting sillyness, everything and everyone shared a beautiful spirit.

My own spirit felt like it was glowing.

Finding Lost Lake

Everything was so clear out in the mountains. Everything was true and rich; every color, every sound, every bloom. During my first trek, i saw many caterpillars and by the time i returned for my second trek, I saw countless butterflies. I swam in rivers  and drank water from them, knowing and seeing the direct source of the water I was surrounded by was an amazing blessing. 

In nature, everything is purposeful. Every leaf, every wind, every thunderstorm, and every bird singing serves a magical purpose of life and spirit. Having been back in the city for a few weeks now, I notice the noise, the confusion, and the empytness in people’s souls. This man made reality is harsh. It is not an easy one to live by day to day.

When I was in the mountains, i would go scouting for trails through forests and mountains I had never seen before. I would come across animals and rivers and never once was I afraid. I felt free and beautiful. The other day, I walked from 3rd Street to 7th Street in Downtown L.A., and men would stop there cars to honk or ask me where I was headed. Men would stare at every crosswalk and I walked with my head held high, but my spirit was sad for the level of disrespect I was receiving. I reminded myself that I have felt this vulnerability and uncomfortableness before. And healing is also a never ending cycle. 

I thank Creator and the ancestors for placing me in the mountains this summer and allowing my spirit to heal, grow, and evolve. Inspired from nature, I too seek my true purpose. I know that working with youth is my path. 

My first session with the Frig Friggies at Lily Lake

Transformation: Who we were when we entered the mountains is not who we are after climbing out.

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Mi Chikis

17 May

It was two months ago this day, that I put my Chikis to sleep. Its taken this length of time to finally talk and write about her. After making the decision to put her down, it was very hard to think about her, it made me really sad.

I found Chikis Jaguar Ajtun on a cold September night in L.A., abandoned  in a box underneath a light post. As i was walking by I heard her little desperate meows. When i found the box I knew there was no going back once i opened it. Inside was this beautiful little baby kitten starring up at me. She meowed one last time and then cuddled inside my hands for warmth.

I took her inside and fed her milk. She was so little. I started to call her Chikis. By the next day, she learned her name and would come out from underneath the bed when i called for her. I took her to the vet, she weighed 6 ounces and was dehydrated and flea infested. The vets saw her and their hearts melted. People around me began to fall in love with her. Mean while i was trying to figure out whether to keep her or not. I figured a few weeks of care and then i would let someone else take her up.

I was not able to let go of her. I fell in love with Chikis. She was special and I needed to stop being selfish. I decided i would care for her. She came to me during a time that I needed to practice self love and self care, and she would be my constant reminder.

From the beginning I took her painting with me. I figured if she’s gonna be a callejera, it was gonna be because I was a callejera as well. I also took her to work bc someone had to feed her, she was too little to feed herself. Everyone at work loved her, including my boss. Chikis would fall asleep on my supervisor’s lap as she worked on the computer typing away reports. I would sneak her around in my purse, she fit perfectly, she was the size of an orange.

Chikis grew up and was no longer little. She became far from little. She gained excessive weight due to a liver problem. She also became blind and was no longer agile.  She never stopped being sick and was always having digestion problems. I took her to several vets but no one could tell me what was really wrong with her. Vets are expensive and I didn’t know what to do.

It made me sad to see her over-weight, unable to clean herself, and always bumping into things. She was smart and found her self around the apt., but she was also becoming sicker. I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to make the decision to put her to sleep. I asked my co-worker for help and she went with me the morning of March 17th, 2011 to put her to sleep. I sat in the car with Chikis asleep on my lap. When i was ready i put her in a box carrier and went inside the office vet. I sat there and signed all the paperwork crying my eyes out. I signed and paid and had boogers running down my face. I was a mess. The vet just looked at me confused. I was so sad. I said one last good bye and walked away. I cried my eyes out the rest of the day. I became sick too.

Who knew a cat or a pet could cause so much emotion. I love Chikis. But I promise to never take up another animal until i have my own home with a backyard where my pets can play and be happy. I want to have chickens, ducks, dogs, and cats. Maybe some rabbits too. I’ll make a little altar so that all my pets can honor her. She was my first pet and she taught me so much love.

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Reparando

5 May

What is the saddest thing you could ever learn about?

My answer is: Guatemala

Yes, my parents land, my ancestral land. Guatemala is a beautiful place. Undeniably so. Beautiful mountains, tall volcanos, magical lakes, lush jungles with rivers birds, flowers… the culture and the colors shake your senses… and then there’s our temples and pyramids.

So why is it sad? Our history is sad. The longest civil war in Latin America took place in Guatemala for 36 years. Genocide swept our little country under the guise of killing “communists”. Femicide began during the Genocide and continues presently. Young men join the Maras and kill and threaten everyday struggling people. Police and politicians are corrupt and have created a culture of impunity. But when you learn that all the present tragedy is the result of U.S. Military funding, CIA operations, and dictator installations taught at the School of the Americas in the U.S., its devastating and frustrating. And when you learn about what the genocide looked like, how it massacred hundreds of indigenous villages, raped and murdered womyn, and left thousands of children orphaned, your heart breaks.

With all of this in mind, I still took myself to watch a film about Central America’s largest slum dwelling, La Limonada, in the capitol city of Guatemala. (Thank fully i wasn’t on my moon or headed there, the last time I watched a film about Guatemala before my moon, i was in mourning for over a week) Unlike Killer’s Paradise or Discovering Dominga, the film “Reparando”, offered a sense of hope. This film offered a beautiful story of two hard working community organizers in La Limonada that endured difficult challenges in their lives such as domestic violence, immigration, child abuse, and drug abuse.

Tita, is a womyn that began a little school in La Limonada to offer some hope, love, and a safe space for children growing up next to the biggest land fill in Guatemala. The children in La Limonada have scavenged through the trash for many years but through Tita and the school they are educating themselves and creating positive futures in their lives. Shorty, is another protagonist in the film. His father was disappeared during the war, his mother fell victim to drug abuse after her partner’s death, he found himself being raised by the streets. When he was ready to change his life, he came to La Limonada and opened a church and drug rehabilitation center. Their stories are powerful and heart breaking, but their resilience and empowerment lifts you back up. It was an amazing journey to sit in the movie theater and learn their stories and the stories from La Limonada.

Reparando means to repair. This film was created with a positive intention of telling the story of people trying to heal themselves and their communities. The film itself came about from a husband and wife that adopted their children in Guatemala. After learning about Guatemala’s history, genocide, and potential future that their children could have faced, they decided to find a way to help. The film Reparando is one way.

After the film screening I bought a DVD copy. In the past I have seen these films about my home country and have felt alone. There’s a strong need inside of me to share the film with others so that they could understand where I come from. In the past I have done film screenings for Killer’s Paradise and Discovering Dominga because I needed more people to know about Guatemala. I hope that one day I can do more than film screenings and travel to Guatemala with friends and show them the beautiful. Unless you go there, there’s no way of fully comprehending how beautiful Guatemala is. Anyways, if you guys can, please support this film. Any donations to this film production will do the following 3 things: (1) Fund the construction of a bakery for the Drug Rehab Center in La Limonada, (2) Give resources to the schools in La Limonada, (3) Fund the production of an upcoming film about street children in Guatemala.

http://www.reparandomovie.com/

Watch the trailer here: http://vimeo.com/athentikos/trailer01

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Over Qualified

4 May

I had searched early on for a summer camp opportunity to work with youth in the wilderness. I found a beautiful project that took young 8th graders to a 4 week camp in Wyoming to grow, learn, become inspired, and set themselves on a path to college. Relating to the experience these kids were about to have, I spent days working on a perfect resume to reflect my qualifications for this position. I applied and I waited.

Rrrring. Rrrriing. I was called for an interview and I was there, dressed up and happy to be given the opportunity to explain why I wanted this job, why I would be so good for it, why I cared for these kids without even knowing them, and why it would have been perfect all around. The interview was long, I answered everything to the best of my ability, I was honest, and I felt good about it. I walked away feeling that I had done everything I could at that point to get this job. I gave them every reason to hire me.

 A month later I get an email. Im over-qualified and they decided not to give me the summer camp counselor position.

 How do you take in such news? Do you feed your ego? Yes. Do you feel disappointed? Hell yes! Do you think it over and over ?… I don’t want to. Hence why I’ll write it about so I can let it go and move on.

Perhaps I was looking for something outside of myself to give me greater life satisfaction. Perhaps this, that, and the other. But perhaps, it just wasn’t meant to be. Why? Idk yet, so I have to move forward and keep trying my hardest at life. I really can’t spend these next few days thinking about their decision and why it was what it was. Everything I could possibly imagine would just be assumption. Instead I’m going to have to look within and figure out what it means at a higher level to be denied bc I’m “over-qualified”.

 I shake my head. And carry my heart forward. It would have been nice to spend the summer with a bunch of kids under the trees by the river talking about the future. It would have been nice to center myself far-away from the city. I’m gonna let go of whatever beautiful pictures I created in my head when I looked forward to this job. Now I have to create new pictures for another summer where I wont rely on someone else to tell me whether or not I can have it. Im a capable being, and my summer will be everything I want it to be. 

With that, i’ll walk away with this song by Selena, “Desprecios”, i love her !

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