Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Finality: Family Ties in Latino Literature

Family is a term that everyone understands, and the word has connotations for everyone. Family can mean parents, siblings, aunts and uncles. It can also mean friends, best friends, and role models. Family can take on any shape or form, and is a little bit different for each person that believes in the word. The term has different connotations in Latino culture as well. In Latino culture, family is one of the most important aspects of life, and is present throughout Latino literature. In novels such as Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya, Dreaming In Cuban by Cristina Garcia, and The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz, family is central to the main characters, and family is the driving force behind many of the decisions the characters make. These novels give the reader insight into different Latino cultures' views of family, since each book is from a different society in Latin America. The theme of family is used in the novels to guide the characters through life, love, and growing up.

Family in Bless Me, Ultima

One of the classics of Latino Literature continues to be Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya, which has been around since the early 1970s. It is the story of a young boy, Antonio Marez's, journey through life, trying to find out who he is and who he will become. He is a seven year old boy that is torn between two destinies that his family has for him. His mother wants him to be a priest, a man of learning like the members of her family before. His father wants him to be a vaquero, a cowboy of the llano (plains) of New Mexico, like his family before him. Antonio is split down the middle, unsure of how he can please both of his parents and his family. The beginning of the novel, the reader is introduced to the importance of family in the novel: Antonio's father, Gabriel, moves away from the llano that has been his home forever for the village of Guadalupe at the insistence of Maria, Antonio's mother (Anaya 2). Maria wanted to send her children to school so they would have a good education in the city, rather than the llano which she despised. Antonio's family is not always present in the novel, though. It is common for his family to appear when he needs them most, such as his brothers, who are central to Antonio's struggle. At the beginning of the novel, they are off fighting WWII for the US before they return to Guadalupe (Anaya 65). Often, Antonio has prophetic dreams about his brothers, and then they appear, in the same situation as Antonio saw them in his dreams. His parents come into the story of Antonio when the topic of his future appears. His father and mother are symbolic of the two futures each side of the family wants for Antonio. Antonio's sisters, however, are not prominent characters, and are rather flat in their development. 
 
Antonio's biological family is important to his growth, but it is Ultima, the cuandera who has the most influence. She is the woman who birthed Antonio and his siblings, and she comes to live with Antonio's family due to her old age and care of the people (Anaya 1). Ultima is a cuandera, a “shaman”, learned in the art of traditional healing, and she becomes one of the most important people in Antonio's life. She is like a grandmother and mother to Antonio: she is there for him when he sees something bad, such as the death of Lupito, a man with post-traumatic stress disorder (Anaya 26). 
 
According to Thomas Vallejos in his article “Ritual Process and the Family in the Chicano Novel,” author Richard Rodriguez states the novel is not a form that is capable of emulating Chicano life/culture, and Chicano writers are unable to show Latino family life, and instead only describe the transition between cultures (Vallejos 5). Vallejos rebuffs this generalization of novels, citing Bless Me, Ultima as a Chicano novel that in fact shows the exact opposite of what Rodriguez claims, as it is a novel who's “structure is based upon the endurance of [familial and communal] values” (Vallejos 5). Ultima is the ultimate source of values in the novel, since she is the one that stops the family feud over Antonio's future; she is also the blending of the traditional culture of the llano with the newer culture of mainstream America. The novel does set itself apart from American culture however, since the only references to the US comes from Antonio's brothers fighting in WWII and Antonio going to school, where he must learn to speak English. Vallejos claims that the reason the brothers are associated with mainstream American culture is to contrast Antonio's “loyalty to family and community” (Vallejos 9). Anaya's novel is one that does not follow Rodriguez's claim that Chicano literature is unable to capture Chicano life without basing the story line on the transition between the home culture and American culture. Instead, it is a novel that uses the past to move Antonio into his future and integrate himself in his family how he sees fit (Vallejos 10).

Family in Dreaming In Cuban

Family has a different dynamic in Dreaming in Cuban than it does in Bless Me, Ultima. Dreaming in Cuban by Cristina Garcia is a novel that focuses on three generations of Cuban women, in both Cuba and the United States. Celia del Pino, the matriarch of the family, lives in Cuba with her youngest daughter Felicia and Felicia's three children Luz, Milagro and Ivanito. Celia's oldest daughter Lourdes del Puente lives in self-appointed exile in New York, with her daughter Pilar, who is central to the novel. Pilar is often thought of as the narrator of the story, writing down the life and family history of her family. According to Rocio Davis' article“Back to the Future: Mothers, Languages, and Homes in Cristina Garcia's Dreaming in Cuban,” the novel is a text that deals primarily with the relationships of mothers and daughters, and this relationship is necessary for the daughters and mothers to understand each other (Davis 60). Davis also states that novels that have female protagonists present the daughters as people that need to continue the maternal stories of their families, and this idea is ever present in Dreaming in Cuban (Davis 60). Pilar is a girl that feels at odds with her mother, and feels a close connection to her grandmother Celia, even though they live extremely far apart (Garcia 29). 
 
Davis states that in the novel, Lourdes and Pilar must return to Cuba so they can reaffirm their ideas of motherhood and better their lives in America (Davis 61). When Pilar returns to Cuba, she realizes that even though she thought she belonged there instead of in New York with her mother, she decides that in fact she belongs in the US more than she does in Cuba (Garcia 239). She realizes that her family ties are not to the island where she was born, but the land where she grew up. When she realizes that revolutionary Cuba is not where she needs to be, she finally comes to the same understanding her mother had. The differing views on the revolution for the mother-daughter relationship of Lourdes and Pilar was one that brought much contention, but it is eventually settled in Cuba, and Pilar even goes as far as defying her grandmother and allowing Ivanito to escape the island through the Peruvian Embassy (Garcia 242). 
 
One important point that Davis points out is the mirrored relationships of the different mother-daughter relationships. Lourdes leaves Cuba because of the revolution that is happening there, and Celia stays on the island because she supports the revolution completely. Celia goes as far as to call Lourdes a “traitor” for leaving (Garcia 26). The relationship between the two women is reflected in the relationship Lourdes has with Pilar. Pilar is a strong-willed woman that butts heads with her mother, and is always at odds, except for a few moments throughout the novel, such as when Lourdes stands up for Pilar's punk painting of the Statue of Liberty (Garcia 144). This is due to a different view of right and wrong. Lourdes is a woman who sees “strictly in black-and-white” and even acknowledges the fact herself (Garcia 26, 129). Pilar is an artist, and tries to look past the black-and-white view. Celia and Felicia are not bonded in the revolution though. Even though Felicia still lives in Cuba, she is ambivalent to the revolution, and instead begins to deteriorate mentally throughout the novel. The relationship between Celia and Felicia eventually ends with Celia trying to take Felicia's three children from her, to better their lives. 
 
Davis' article notes another prominent family dynamic that is not obviously clear in the novel: the different generations have a special relationship with the father figures (Davis 63). Lourdes is the most obvious example: she and Jorge, her father, have a much better relationship than Celia and Lourdes. Jorge is the one that loves Lourdes after she is born, since Celia despises her and claims she “will not remember [Lourdes'] name.” (Garcia 43). Pilar and her father are in the same type of relationship. Pilar feels closer to her father, since they are both under the watchful and ever vigilant eye of Lourdes. To a small extent, Luz and Milagro, Felicia's twin daughters, have a better relationship with their father than with Felicia. When they have the opportunity to leave Felicia's home and visit their father, they do not think twice about it and head to see him (Garcia 123). He is the father they loved and they hate their mother so much, they want to do anything to get away from her. 
 
Family in The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

Unlike Bless Me, Ultima and Dreaming in Cuban, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao has a different take on the meaning of family, and what is needed in the novel to constitute family. In the novel overall, love is more prominent than family, but it is due to family that love is so important. Oscar is a fat, nerdy Dominican boy living in New Jersey, and all he wants to do is find love. It is because Oscar is a Dominican boy, and Dominican culture is heavily steeped in machismo (hyper-masculinity). From an early age, Oscar is expected to be a player, a boy that has all the ladies, and he succeeds for a time, reaching two girlfriends at one point like a good Dominican boy (Diaz 11, 13). He is not close as close to his mother in the novel as he is to his sister, and he has absolutely no relationship with his father. His grandmother,La Inca, is a woman that is present in his life, but does not have a huge impact until the end, when he ventures back to the Dominican Republic to find Ybon, the quasi-retired prostitute that he falls in love with. He tries to woo her, to make her his own, but in the beginning it does not work. He stays in the DR for 27 days trying to woo Ybon, and he eventually dies for it. Although it is not specifically stated, one of the goals for Oscar was to love Ybon, and perhaps make a family with her. She was the one that he loved the most, the one he wanted, and everything else was second to her. Even his own family, who tried to get him to leave the DR and return to America (Diaz 319). Of course, the tries do not work, and Oscar remains in the DR, away from his family and those that truly love him. 
 
In Ramon Saldivar's article “Historical Fantasy, Speculative Realism, and Postrace Aesthetics in Contemporary American Fiction,” Saldivar calls attention to the mixing of history and fantasy in the novel, the references to both reality and the imaginary (Saldivar 585). Saldivar is referring to the use of the mongoose as a guardian and the cultural context of Trujillo in the novel, but his idea can be transplanted to the theme of family in the novel. Oscar is a Dominican boy who's family is haunted by the fuku, like most Dominican families, and because of that the role of family in his life is different. His mother is dying of cancer and she is a strict, unrelenting woman. His sister is a rebel, a go-getter that wants to be free of the confines of their mother, and Oscar himself is a sci-fi and fantasy nerd that only wants to find love, but can't. His family contains a spectrum of personalities, some that do not get along. These differences can be attributed to the family's past, the fuku that follows them, and the cultural aspect of being Dominican: fantasy and history conspire together to make the destiny of one small, seemingly insignificant man become something less family-oriented and more focused on finding the love of a woman (Saldivar 590).

Through these three novels, the theme of family can be seen and explored as a major aspect of Latino/Chicano culture. It is present in many different forms: between mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, sons and parents, lovers, and role models. Family is not limited to just blood; family denotes who is closest to someone, who can be depended on and who is always there for someone. Family is important to literature just as much as it is to the actual culture itself: all a reader need do is look closely and read/watch what is in plain sight.














Works Cited
Anaya, Rudolfo. Bless Me, Ultima. New York: Warner, 1972. Print.
Diaz, Junot. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. New York: Riverhead, 2007. Print.
Davis, Rocío G. "Back To The Future: Mothers, Languages, And Homes In Cristina García's Dreaming In Cuban." World Literature Today: A Literary Quarterly Of The University Of Oklahoma 74.1 (2000): 60-68. Web. 14 Apr. 2012.
Garcia, Cristina. Dreaming in Cuban. New York: Ballantine, 1992. Print
Saldívar, Ramón. "Historical Fantasy, Speculative Realism, And Postrace Aesthetics In Contemporary American Fiction." American Literary History 23.3 (2011): 574-599. Web. 14 Apr. 2012.
Vallejos, Thomas. “Ritual Process and the Family in the Chicano Novel.” Melus 10.4 (1983): 5- 16. Web. 14 Apr. 2012

Friday, April 13, 2012

To Love and Be Loved

“It would have been one thing if...he hadn't cared about girls, but alas he was still the passionate enamorao who fell in love easily and deeply” (23). So goes the love life of Oscar in Junot Diaz's novel The Brief Wondrous Life of OscarWao. The title character was an overweight, nerdy Dominican boy who never had the luxury of love, even though he fell hard and fast for most of the girls he was around. Take his sister Lola's friends: they hung out at his house every day, but the closest he got to them was in his imagination when porn magazines weren't what he wanted. And of course, there was Ana Obregon, who Oscar fell for because of the fact that she actually talked to him. But of course, the love of Ana was only for the ex-druggie Manny, and Oscar had to deal with being shunted to the role of just friends.

Of course, Oscar is not the only character to find love in the most unexpected and not-so-good-for-you places. Lola ran away from home for a boy, Aldo, and gave up her virginity because that's what you do “to some boy you thought you loved” (64). Lola's 'love' was different than Oscar's, though, because the main reason Lola left was to get away from her overbearing and sometimes (in her eyes) cruel mother who didn't know anything about love. Ironically enough, Hypatia Belicia Cabral (Beli), mother to Oscar and Lola, was taken in by the young thoughts of love, allowing Jack Pujols, the whitest and most beautiful of the boys in school, to invade her thoughts and eventually her body, all for the sake of 'love' (86 & 100).

It is easy to see how Oscar came to be the hopeless romantic that eventually takes his love too far, and ends up dead because of it. Coming from a family that falls in love so quickly with people, in addition to being Dominican, means that Oscar is helpless from the start. He doesn't know a different way to love other than falling for someone, and hoping eventually she will notice him and reciprocate his feelings. Sadly, the only eventual outcome of that love was disaster and death. He wanted to love so badly that he chose the wrong woman to fall in love with, and paid for it in the Dominican Republic, in the cane fields where the mongoose that saved his mother could not save him.

It is also possible that the love struck Oscar was suffering due to the fuku, the curse that started with Columbus and permeated all of the Dominican culture. Yunior, the narrator of the novel, calls his novel a zafa, a counter-curse, to the fuku, but it doesn't seem like Oscar had the same luck with counter-curses. Instead, he had to deal with the facts: he had no father, his mother had cancer, he loved girls and girls and girls, but none of those girls loved him. Then, he found the woman he loved, but she was claimed by someone else: typical Oscar luck. He did eventually woo the woman he loved, after he stalked her for weeks in the DR, but of course this came to the worst end possible. Out in the cane fields of the country, Oscar was killed because of his love. The fuku came to claim another victim, even one who only possessed one of the most basic urges: to love and be loved in return.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Family Ties


In both Dreaming in Cuban and Bodega Dreams, the theme of family is prominent throughout the whole novel. In Dreaming in Cuban, the family theme deals with something different than previous novels in the class: it is a story of three generations of women. In Bodega Dreams, the theme of family is played out in the relationship between Blanca and Chino, but also the relationship between Willie Bodega and Spanish Harlem. Throughout both of the novels, there are different dynamics between families, and the families support each other in different ways.

In Dreaming in Cuban, a family of women is central to the novel. The family is split apart: Celia, the matriarch, lives in Cuba with her youngest daughter Felicia and Felicia's three children, while her oldest daughter Lourdes and Lourdes's daughter Pilar live in New York, far away from the influence of the revolution. The novel follows the lives of three generations of women, throughout the years following the revolution until 1980. The story follows the women through tribulations and hurt, revolution and freedom, as well as death. The novel is not a story of marital relationships, but rather they are the interactions between the different women. For Pilar, Lourdes’s daughter, the mother-daughter relationship is strained, and Pilar is much closer to her father than mother. It is almost a mirror of the relationship between Lourdes and Jorge, her father. Lourdes ad Celia never got along when they were together in Cuba, so Lourdes became very close to her father, much like Pilar and her father Rufino. Celia and Felicia begin to have a conflicting relationship in the book as well. Felicia is a woman that has many problems, even going as far as trying to kill her husband and son, Ivanito, on different occasions. Felicia sees the attempted murder of her son at least as an act of love. She does not want to be separated from him, and Celia is trying to pull them apart for the betterment of Ivanito.

In Bodega Dreams, Chino is the main character at the center of the familial relationships of the books. He is a young man living in Spanish Harlem, trying to support his new wife and unborn child. He becomes mixed up with Willie Bodega, a former Young Lord and current drug dealer, who has a dream of making Spanish Harlem a great place to live for everyone. In his own family, conflict is a common occurrence, since Blanca is a devout Protestant and Chino is apathetic towards religion. There is also Sapo, Chino’s best friend, who is for better or worse Chino’s brother. Blanca does not like Sapo or Bodega, and does not want Chino to be mixed up with them. She knows that Sapo sells drugs, and is afraid that something bad will happen if Chino continues to hang out with Sapo (16). She cannot seem to reconcile her religious beliefs with the actions of those around Chino, her husband and father to her child, and eventually Blanca leaves Chino. The theme of family deviates a little in Bodega Dreams from Chino and Blanca, and seems to fall onto Bodega. Bodega wants to make Spanish Harlem better by being available and helpful to all of the people that live there. In a sense, all of the inhabitants of El Barrio (another name for Spanish Harlem) become Bodega’s extended family. He is there for them when they need help paying rent or fixing their apartment or putting their children through college. All he asks for in return is that the people of El Barrio be there for him, to cry out in pain and anguish when he dies.
           
There is support for the families throughout the novels though. In Dreaming in Cuban, there is one great scene where Lourdes and Pialr put aside their differences, and act like a mother and daughter. When Lourdes opens a new bakery and asks Pilar to paint something patriotic for it, Pilar decides to create a punk Statue of Liberty. At the unveiling, many of the customers criticize the painting and Pilar, but Lourdes sticks up for her daughter and knocks a man out cold (144). In that moment, Lourdes and Pilar are the mother-daughter pair that they never were, and were close like family should be. In Bodega Dreams, Willie Bodega supports Chino and Blanca when they are out and down. After the fire burns down their apartment building, Bodega moves them into one of his buildings, proving that he does indeed care for everyone that lives in his part of the city.
             
Family is a very important aspect of Latino Literature and culture, and the theme is prominent in Dreaming in Cuban and Bodega Dreams. The families of each book have their own unique set of problems and perks, but they are also connected together on some levels. There is a sense of love and appreciation in both of the novels, and help is always around for the family members that need it. There are differing styles of family dynamics in the two novels, since they deal with not only different time periods, but also the difference between a matriarchal (Celia) family and a patriarchal (Bodega) family.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Magical Readings

                In Cristina Garcia’s novel Dreaming in Cuban, there are many examples of one theme that has been common throughout the novels we have read so far in the class: magical realism. Garcia incorporates a world that is real, but influenced by otherworldly phenomena in the context of Cuba, a country that has had a precarious relationship with the Western world.

                In the novel, one of the main characters Celia del Puente, has an experience with a ghost right at the beginning of the novel. She sees the ghost of her recently deceased husband, Jorge, walking across the ocean towards her, glowing as she kept a vigil for El Lider. She is surprised, but realizes that her husband, who she has not seen in almost four years, is dead. Seeing him is a momentous occasion for her, because due to her sighting of her dead husband, she pledges her life to El Lider, Fidel Castro, though surprisingly throughout the novel his name is never actually mentioned.

                Celia’s daughter Lourdes experiences spirits from the beyond in the novel as well. She lives in New York City, and that is where her father was because he was sick. After his death, Lourdes began to see her father as she returns home from work, and talks to him, since she does not have someone else to talk to. Lourdes’s husband and daughter have a special relationship that, in my opinion, mirrors the relationship Lourdes and Jorge had. Lourdes is left out of the loop, so for guidance and confidence, she sees her father’s spirit and talks about her life and what is going on. Jorge is an escape, a best friend, for Lourdes even though he is dead.

                Santeria is present in the novel, with the character of Felicia. Felicia is Celia’s second daughter, and in the novel, it becomes apparent that Felicia is mentally unstable. She tries to kill her husband by setting his face on fire, and she tries to kill her only son by crushing pills over his ice cream. Eventually, Felicia is taken away from her son, and she spirals out of control until she lands with her feet firmly in Santeria. Although Santeria is a religion, there is a sense of the magical around it. Santeria priests and priestesses believe in many gods, and the religion is rich with rituals and sacrifices to the gods. Communicating with the dead is another part of Santeria, although that type of communication is not present with Felicia’s character.

                Dreaming in Cuban is a novel rich in details, narrative, family struggles, and of course magical realism. The novel has been highly praised, and it is one of my favorite books from the course so far. I am glad that we had the chance to read another novel that dealt with the other-worldly, the magical.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Puerto Rican Obituary

If you have read, or are beginning to read Bodega Dreams by Ernesto Quiñonez, you will have been introduced to excerpts from the poem Puerto Rican Obituary, a poem by PedroPietri, a famous Puerto Rican author. In Bodega Dreams, Quinonez uses the poem to highlight life in Spanish Harlem, where the poem and the novel are both set.

Pietri is a Puerto Rican poet, and is one of the founders of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, a non-profit organization that is known for its involvement with the arts in New York City. It is primarily Latino performers, and has been in business since 1973 when it was founded. It was this cafe that was first introduced to Pietri's “Puerto Rican Obituary,” and the cafe is what gave Pietri the notoriety he gained in life.

The poem is a story of boricuans, the Taino name for Puerto Ricans, living in Spanish Harlem, trying to make their American dreams come true. However, the poem is permeated with sadness, because many of the characters in the poem do not accomplish their dreams, and leave this world hating their lives, and the other people around them. The line “All died/ waiting dreaming and hating” (line 46) shows the readers of the poem that even though Puerto Ricans come to America in search of a better life, sometimes the dreams fall flat, and the anger and bitterness are what are left for the relatives and children.

The poem is also a commentary on the life situation of a Latino in New York City. Even though Puerto Ricans are US citizens, there is a prejudice in this country against Latinos of all forms. Pietri points out in his poem that many of the Puerto Ricans who work here do not even know what the front door of the national bank looks like (line 22).

When I first read this poem, I will admit that I was a little put off by the fact it is quite a long poem, similar to an epic in the vein of Beowulf. But as I began to read further into the poem, I began to realize that there are many facts that I believed in, but was proved wrong. I have known for a long time that Puerto Ricans are American citizens, so because of this I always believed that they would have the same status as other Americans in the US. However, after reading Bodega Dreams and Puerto Rican Obituary, I came to the realization that mainstream American culture views Puerto Ricans not as American citizens, but as another Latino group, and due to this are not as understanding or accepting of Puerto Ricans into this country. 

Instead, many Puerto Ricans move to Spanish Harlem in NYC, and get jobs that no one else wants, because they want to live the American dream in America, and they will do whatever it takes (sound familiar?)

Thursday, March 8, 2012

The Looking Glass

When I look into the mirror, I see a pale face, with hazel eyes staring at my own. A scraggly red beard, hence the pale face, bleeds the light from the surrounding room. Small brown dots freckle my arms and shoulders, blonde hairs almost invisible over the dots. I am young, in the prime of my life. I see the adventure of a fresh new day reflected in my eyes.

I continue staring into the reflective depths of the mirror. I see pine trees lining the backyard, pine cones littering the yard. Georgia heat shimmers and bends off the surface of my mirror. I can hear the twang of country music, the thwang of a sharp Southern accent. My mom has come home, and the smells and sounds of dinner waft through the small, cozy house.

More comes and stands in my mirror. Memories of my family, now long gone, remind me of where I came from. My grandmother stands behind me, smiling as she shows me where my life has been and where it will go.

As I delve deeper into the mirror, everything is laid bare. My dad sits in his Sunday best, praying at the head of the table. My mom flutters around the house, making sure everything is in order, everything is in its place. I'd forgotten how I missed the routine, until the mirror shows me once again how it was.

Then, far away from where I thought I would end, the mirror shows me subtleties that I hadn't noticed before, ideas not in my head until I grew up. My school is half and half: half African-American, half white. I grow up with friends who look different from me, and hear that they are different. I see dark skin, darker than the casper pale skin I have grown to accept as unchangeable. My parents reflections speak to me in the mirror, telling me that I am better than those people, the ones from the literal other side of the tracks.

In the reflection, I can see my family, all together, all laughing, feeling safe based on what they look like and how society views them. I am one of them, but I see something different: an new reflection, a new thought bubble. I am white, yes, and that comes with privileges I never knew existed as a child. But in my mirror, I can make whatever is right reflect back. I see the differences, I sometimes participate in the encouragements of those differences, but I know that they are not right. I can fix them.

I am not as familiar with where my ancestors are from as I am with how my family raised me. How they taught me to think, to act, to view the world, and that is the most powerful influence I have. Even if I am not sure what to think, how to act, or how to look at the world, there is that reflection in the mirror that shows me how my family does it. Maybe I don't agree, but at least I know they're there.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

I Give You Steven Cordova, Poet

Steven Cordova is a Latino poet and author who was born and raised in San Antonio, Texas, but now lives in Brooklyn, New York. He is a gay, HIV positive man that writes often about HIV and homosexuality. He was in Brooklyn in the 1980s, when HIV was becoming a rallying point for many men and women to gather together in community. During the late 1980s, Cordova joined the Gay Men's Health Crisis (GMHC) and began to work with HIV-positive men in NYC. There, he began his first poetry workshops, and met many of the people he would continue to keep a writing community with. He has a few other published works, other than his poems in The Wind Shifts. These include Long Distance, a collection of poetry printed by Bilingual Review Press (2010); short works in Ambientes: New Queer Writing (2011) and The Other Latin@:Writing against a Singular Identity (2011) (University of Wisconsin and University of Arizona, respectively). The poems by Steven Cordova in the anthology The Wind Shifts can be appreciated by gay people, HIV-positive people, and dreamers because the poems explore the topics of HIV, homosexuality and dreams in metaphorical, free-verse poems. Bio information found here.

In Meditations on the Jordaan, Cordova begins to discuss one of the major themes that he has in many of the poems in The Wind Shifts: the presence of HIV. The poem is a commentary on two lovers (quite possibly two men, but that is never stated) staying in Amsterdam, enjoying each others' company. But in the background is the presence of HIV, seen in line seven: “...it had nothing to do with T-cells of hospital beds.” It is a poem from the perspective of one lover in a pair, and their journey together through Amsterdam, on a vacation in the European city. Cordova indirectly describes the two lovers in the poem, calling them birds “trapped in paper cages,” indicating the men are no more than literary characters (4-5). In this poem, Cordova emulates other famous gay poets that have come before him, such as Frank O'Hara. O'Hara was a poet who enjoyed writing poems about places he had never been, and wrote his poems in the NYC area in the 50s and 60s. Cordova also seems to enjoy writing poems in 2nd person narrative, so it is as if the reader is the subject of the poem, rather than, in the case of this poem, the lover of the narrator. “How you” is repeated at the beginning of four of the seven stanzas in the poem, giving the reader a clear indicator that the poem is meant to be a remembrance of a happy time not marred by HIV-related hardships.

HIV is a common theme in many of Cordova's poems, but in Across the Table, HIV is present only in inference. The meat and potatoes of the poem is a discussion of two people on a date, most likely men, and their discomfort at the souring of the evening. This poem comments on homosexuality and also the want of one person to find someone else that is in a similar position as themselves. In this poem, it is two HIV positive men, glad that they've met each other (1-2). After the initial pleasantries of the date, the narrator of the poem starts to drift into negative thought about the person across the table from them, noting that they (the narrator) is not the one who will call after the date (9). Then, again in inference, HIV is brought up in the line “we both know we have that-what?-that ultimate date,” meaning that even though the two people are on a bad date, there will be a time when they both will have the same date (perhaps with death), no matter if they are together or apart (11-12). The last few lines of the poem shows how the date has fallen apart, using the images of forks and knives “[carrying] on and [doing] the heavy lifting now”to show that the conversation has faltered, the two daters are no longer talking, and forks and knives make the only sound at the table. The narrator has not found the one that they were looking for on the date.

Of Sorts is a prose poem that combines two of the major themes in Cordova's poems. The poem is in 2nd person narrative, and the first line of the poem, with its reference to a dream diary, gives the reader the perspective that the poem itself is supposed to be a diary entry. The fact that Of Sorts is a prose poem bolsters this assumption. The themes of dreaming and homosexuality are present in this poem, especially when the narrator begins to tell the reader about the dreams they are having. First, the reader is “in the home you've made for yourself,” then “in a home made for you by others” (5, 7). The dreams are an interesting juxtaposition of the realities of being gay and HIV positive and dreaming about moving from home to home, as well as trying to find a place in a world that tries to fit people into boxes based on information. The narrator then continues the juxtaposition of the two themes, saying “with dreams...it's round trip,” meaning that there is a way to come back to reality, and not be too affected by the real world and its notions (11).

Cordova is a poet that is gay, HIV-positive, and Latino, all of which are not highly accepted qualities of people in mainstream American society. However, Cordova is not ashamed of who he is, and his poetry reflects his personality and his life, without regrets or caveats.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Fictitious Elements of Devil's Highway

When I began reading The Devil's Highway, I knew that the book was creative nonfiction, meaning that Luis Urrea used methods of fiction to write the story. And of course, there is a very valid reason for the use of fiction methods: the main characters in the story, the Yuma 14, were all dead. They all died trying to cross the border into the US by means of a dangerous and deadly desert. When Urrea began to research this book, I'm sure he had to think long and hard how he wanted to present the information to the public.

I want to say that I thought The Devil's Highway way by far the most thought-provoking and terrifying book that we have read in class so far. It is also my favorite book of the class, and I am glad that we had a chance to read it. What I appreciate about the book is the fact that it is creative nonfiction. Rather than write a book loaded with fact and speculative assumptions, Urrea created a story out of the ordeal, one that people on either side of the border could relate to, and one that helps me personally understand and process the story. One of the most effective uses of the writing form is when Urrea describes what most likely happened at a certain point, such as telling the story of a day in the life of a Border Patrol agent, also called La Migra by people who try to cross the border (21-6), or the long journey through the desert from the perspective of the men who tried to cross. Being a writer myself, I think I would be able to get some writing tips from Urrea, although I hope to not have to write about something as sad as the Yuma 14.

I wonder how the men who crossed the desert would react to the book if they had had the chance to read it. Would they like the way Urrea described their lives in the worst moment, their deaths? Or would they think that he did an accurate interpretation of what happened? I know these are unanswerable questions that will forever go in a circle, but it is intriguing to think about. Also, what would the men think of the way Urrea portrays Mendez, the young coyote that took them across the desert? He is cast as a victim himself, who was taken over by the circumstances same as the other men. Personally, I can't make any decisions because I do not know enough about the situation, or the coyote Mendez. Forming opinions on anything that has to do with the Yuma 14 would be entirely based on The Devil's Highway, which tries to even the playing field for everyone.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Reaching Borders

In The Guardians by Ana Castillo, one of the main themes present in the novel is that of family. In Latino culture, family is an important part of life, and therefore is foremost in the novel. One of the main characters, a teachers aide named Regina, is a strong woman taking care of her nephew Gabo, an illegal teenager from Mexico. She is taking care of him because she wants him to succeed in school, and have all the chances in the world to live his life how he wants. But something big, something monumental happens to the aunt and nephew: Rafa, Regina's brother and Gabo's father, never makes it to Regina's house, like he was supposed to (4). He has been missing for a while in the story, never making, it seems, over the imaginary border into the United States. 

The story follows the efforts of Regina, Gabo, Regina's co-worker Miguel, and Miguel's grandfather Milton, as they embark on a journey to find out just what happened to Rafa. What they find is a gruesome picture of the Mexico-USA border, and the realities of life there. All Rafa wanted to do was travel to America to support his family, and instead he had to deal with the coyotes that rule the land. It was because of the coyotes, and their sense of importance that split Regina's family apart forever.

In The Devil's Highway, the coyotes have a greater presence in the lives of the people. Coyotes are people that are paid to take people across the Mexico-USA border illegally. The Devil's Highway was not a fictional novel like The Guardians, but a story based on a true account. In it, men from Mexico follow a young, semi well-intentioned youth into the desert, hoping to provide a better life for them, and their families. The men, known as the Yuma 14 or Wellton 26, went on the journey across the border to try and make money to support their loved ones in Mexico. Unfortunately, it was not to happen for them. Instead, a coyote by the code name Mendez led them deep into the desert called Desolation, where they became lost, disoriented, and many died. All for the purpose of making money for the men who ran the border. 
 
The border between Mexico and the United States is a line, drawn on papers and in actuality has hundreds of miles of fencing and surveillance to keep the people on “the other side” out. But when people come to the United States illegally across the border, it does more than just symbolize a new country: it represents the fact that families are no longer together. There is distance between them, a wall, and the coyotes that split apart families for a profit.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Opinions on the Happenings of 9500 Liberty

For this blog post, I am going to focus on 9500 Liberty, since I believe it gave me a better understanding of immigration than The Guardians did.

I don't even know where to begin. The movie 9500 Liberty is the story of Prince William County in Virginia, and their xenophobia that hit is peak in 2007-8, due to the large number of Latino immigrants that moved to their county for jobs. The people of the county, especially in the city of Manassas, began to become paranoid as to the new faces, and the documentary, which began as a series of Youtube clips, showcased the goings-on of the hatred.

One of the main perpetrators of the xenophobia was a man named Greg Letiecq, who started bvbl, a blog that contains comments of the nasty sort, directed at the so-called “illegal aliens.” With his blog, which is still somehow online, he incited hatred among the residents of the county, and helped push forward the first “probable cause” ordinance that gave the police of the county the right to check the legal status of anyone they believed was not a legal resident of the United States. In other words, Letiecq helped the county of Prince William take away the freedom and safety of the county, and instill fear in its citizens.

The cost of the ordinance was heavy for the county, as many of the Latinos/as, whether they were legal or not, left, and the economy plummeted. One of the main points of the documentary, in my opinion, was to show the after effects of such a controversial piece of legislation. The county was virtually split down the middle: people who supported the ordinance vs. people who vehemently opposed it.

I had a conversation with a fellow student after the movie, and we discussed not only the movie, but the farther reaching implications of what this (the actions of the people of Prince William county) kind of xenophobia is doing to our country. Throughout the movie, the white non-Hispanic citizens of the county continuously called all of the Latinos/as in the county illegal aliens, and some even referred to all of them as illegal Mexicans. This is not as surprising to me as I think it should be. Even around here in Goshen, people call all Latinos/as “Mexican,” and often blame them for the problems and hardships of the county. On a broader scope, in the recent past, Arizona passed SB 1070 which is exactly the same type of legislation that was passed in Prince William: if the police have “probable cause” to ask for legal status, they can. No questions asked. To me, this reeks of racial profiling, and no Latino/a, legal or no, is safe.

Rereading this blog post, I noticed that I am quite a bit negative, and not very forgiving with much of what is happening in our country when it comes to immigration, or Greg Letiecq. There are a few things I want to mention. I don't think that people should come into this country illegally. However, I think that when people do cross the border illegally, they are doing it because they want a better life for their families: how can I be mad at that? If I was in the same situation, I would risk the US government, the coyotes, the desert, and the hardships of life here to provide for my family. That's life, and like one of the men in the movie said, we are all human beings, and we should all be treated like human beings. Equality shouldn't just be for the citizens and residents of the US. It should be liberty and justice for all.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Future Seen in A Day Without A Mexican?

“They took our jobs!”
“This is OUR country!”
“Build a fence and keep them out!”

All of the above are sentences that I have heard when Americans talk about Hispanic immigrants moving across the Mexico-US border. Some of these statements are even heard in A Day Without a Mexican, which looks (a little satirically) at what would happen in California if the Hispanic population of the state was to disappear one day. It is a striking movie, full of not only humor, but stark reality: for example, the film has freeze frames in which the audience gets a glimpse of some of the statistics from California. 88% of the state's agricultural workers are Latino/a, and 20% of the K-12 teachers are Latino/a as well. 
 
Going to high school here in Goshen made me wonder what would happen if all people who were Latino/a in the state disappeared. I did some research, and found that there are almost 400,000 Latino/as in Indiana, and they make up 6% of the population. This is not as striking as California, but is still a large percent of the population. If everyone were to disappear, I believe there would be a very similar reaction to the movie we watched. Many people would be overjoyed to see the Latino/a population gone, but there would be others that would be devastated. Here at Goshen College, there is a Latino/a population that would be missed, because they contribute much to the cultural diversity of the college, and they are some of the most active students for social change. If the Latino/a students from GC were to go missing, I think many aspects of the college's progressive nature would vanish with them. I think about the DREAM Act, and how Latino/a students are the ones bringing it to the student body.

Not only would the college be affected, but there is a large Latino/a culture in Goshen and the surrounding areas. Many of my friends are Latino/a, and I know their families. If they were to vanish one day, I would be bewildered and affected by their disappearance. 
 
If all the Latino/a population were to disappear, wouldn't that create problems for everyone? In A Day Without a Mexican, California's economy was falling apart because of no more Latino/a people working in the fields. Agriculture is a major part of California's economy. If all of the workers were to disappear, the entire country would collapse. California wouldn't produce the crops needed to support itself, and the country. Perhaps this is a leap, but I think there is a possibility this would be the result of an instantaneous disappearance. 
 
This movie is a good starting point for a discussion on what Americans see as “Latino/a invaders.” I personally do not believe that Latino/as should be treated any different than others, but it is a grim reality we live in.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Finding Clartiy in Bless Me, Ultima

     One of the most impressing aspects of Rudolfo Anaya's novel Bless Me, Ultima, is the way he blends reality and the magical together: magical realism. It is an interesting feat, allowing both the natural and magical worlds to meld together into a story in which no one questions the power of a bruja or a curandera, but takes in stride the world of the mystical. The juxtaposition of the Catholic faith and magical means of accomplishing feats is a driving force behind the story of Antonio Marez, the six year old narrator of the novel.

    In the story, Antonio is a young boy living in WWII era New Mexico in a small town, Guadalupe. Then, one summer, his life is changed with the arrival of Ultima, a cuandera, a woman who is learned in traditional medicine that is different from modern medicine and the belief that prayer and priests can affect the living. The arrival of Ultima begins a turbulent time for Antonio. He begins to spend much of his time with Ultima, learning what she knows, and going with her when she has to do her healing (such as the case of Antonio's uncle Lucas). But the arrival of Ultima means that Antonio begins to question what he has always accepted. How can he believe in Ultima's work and still be a good Catholic? How can he be saved in the eyes of God if he believes in the gold carp that lives in the river, who is supposed to be a pagan god from long ago?

    I believe that Bless Me, Ultima is a story about a young child growing up in a whirlwind of confusion. Antonio Marez is a boy struggling with his faith, and also with his identity. His parents each want him to be something different: his father wants him to grow to embrace his Marez heritage, and his mother wants him to be a priest. Unfortunately for Antonio, he is pushed in many directions by different people, and he can't find himself quite yet.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Responding to I, the Worst of All

When I begin to think about colonial Mexico, nothing comes to mind. It is not a subject I learned in school, nor is it a subject I have put extensive research into. When I think about Mexico before the present day, my mind goes straight to the Aztecs and Mayans who lived thousands of years ago. However, after watching I, the Worst of All, I have more of an understanding of that time than I did before. Colonial Imperialism changed the course of history for so many people, not only in Africa or Asia, but in Latin America as well. Nuns exist in many cultures, and not all of them are Christian nuns. But I, the Worst of All gave me a view of what it was like for a woman living in the 15th and 16th centuries. I cannot relate to Sor Juana's plight, because I did not live at that time, nor am I a woman. The movie showed me a life that is hard for me to imagine living, and allowed me to glimpse a time when life was harsh and cold (from my standpoint at least). From what I have learned from Latino/a friends and the books I have read is that in Latino/a culture, men are dominant and this is evident in I, the Worst of All. Sor Juana does not have the ability to express herself or possess books or literature because she is a woman.
The movie also made me think of a barrier that exists in America, but it was not something I saw in the movie. It was the fact that the movie was in Spanish. In America, Spanish is looked down upon, and it is considered by many people a bad language based on the fact that there is a large population of Spanish-speaking migrant workers in America. Many Americans do not take into account that part of America, where many Hispanic people live, used to be part of Mexico, and also there are many third, fourth, or fifth generation people living in our country. In La Frontera, Gloria Anzaldua states this viewpoint very clearly, as she discusses her experience in school, and around other Latinos/as. Spanish was not accepted because it was not popular with the mainstream. Today, Spanish and Latino/a culture is becoming more prominent, but there is still opposition to the culture. Living in Goshen, and attending Goshen High School has allowed me to look at the shift of Latino/a culture to more mainstream from an active standpoint, and I personally think it is a shift in the right direction.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Call Me Rikki

    The first time I ever met someone with the same name (spelling, that is) was a girl when I was in third grade. Her name was Rikki, and that was when I noticed that even though I had an Uncle Ricky, my name was different, not a boy's name, but a girl's. Of course, I've always known I was named after my uncle. It's no coincidence that my name is Rikki, and my uncle's is Ricky. My father, who gave me the name, has never admitted that he named me after his brother, but it's very obvious to everyone in my family. I don't mind the name, and I even like that it's spelled differently than what most people assume when they hear Rikki. My name is a way to show that I'm different, I'm unique, and I'm sometimes confused when my uncle is around, because I'm never sure which Rikki/Ricky someone is trying to talk to. Over the years, my name has morphed. To my uncle, I am “Little Rick,” to help stem some of the confusion. I'm used to that name, and it has only been recently that my more common name “Ant-Rikki” has stopped being used. I have an older brother named Anthony, and my parents would often get the names mixed up and start to call me the wrong thing. I grew used to the new name, because well, what else is there to do in that situation?
     I do often wish that my middle name was my first, and that I was a William instead of a Rikki. I've toyed with the possibility of getting my friends to call me William, but my identity feels so tied to my name. I would have to make changes in my life if I wanted to be a new name, a new person. Instead, I stick with the name I was given at birth, even though now my name is changing just a little. My close friends call me Rik (yes, with one k), and I can manage that. It's close enough Rikki that I don't have to imagine I am someone new, someone else. I can keep my personality and everything that ties me to my name.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

My First Blog

I'm looking forward to using this blog to communicate with other students about the books and ideas we discuss in class. It should be a great learning experience for everyone.