Raven
The official magazine of the bronx academy of letters
summer 2021
essays poems
+ interview with angela aguirre
Editor in chief/writer in residence Venessa M. Marco Executive producer/principal Amy Schless staff writers Bal Raven Zine & Lit Class art directors Kimberly M. Hopgood Berdecia Jordan R. Marco Franco Front and back cover art Jacqueline Rosas Aquino
contact us Bronx Academy Of Letters 399 Morris Avenue Bronx, NY 10451 www.bronxletters.org
Contents Letter from the Editor I Forgive Myself
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A “Heart Made of glass my mind of stone” 7 To Whom It May Concern
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Interview With Angela Aguirre Ashelyn Hernandez
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13
Why You Play With My Heart and Not Show Love Consistently? Worlds Expectations of Me vs My Own Election Blues
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17
Poem Inspired by a Black Lives Matter Image My Last Memory of you, Mamá
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14
lETTER
FROM
THE EDITOR
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s I sit here to write this letter, I am overcome with emotion and gratitude. What a year and a
half we have survived! To think that through all these trials, we have committed to our learning and our growth is something worth celebrating. This has been a challenging time for me. I learned that I thrive in social situations in a way that I never anticipated. I dealt with isolation and mourning. I lost relationships and familial ties. It has not been easy. However, I pulled from my students' dedication. I pulled y
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I saw how even on the days when you had the least m
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to yourself and this school year. I know that sometimes that meant a dreadful Zoom class and staying up all night. Still, you endured. To know your commitment is to be motivated by it. So many of you went through the beginning of your high school career through Zoom. You missed out on celebrating significant accomplishments like prom or walking out of these high school doors for the last time, also walking
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the doors for the first. I know the disappointment is palpable. The world can never give you those moments back, but know you are resilient and you have survived. Trust that you will continue to succeed and surpass expectations not placed by others but of yourself. I hope you are hopeful and excited for the journey ahead. If you were to ask me how I felt a few months ago, this note would read differently. However, after combing through all your work, I feel prepared for my own. And so, I thank you for showing up to the best of your abilities. Every assignment turned in is a testament to your own strength. Thank you for trying. Thank you again for showing up. Thank you for showing
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VENessa marco
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i FORGIVE MYSELF by Athena Williams
I remember all the fun times we had together, but I also remember the time you betrayed me. At that time in my life, I was mad at you because you called yourself my best friend, but you left me for other friends. Then you started switching up. I didn’t even recognize you anymore. People change, but you changed into a whole different person I don’t even know. I should have been used to it because that wasn’t the first time you switched me out for a new best friend, and every time you got hurt, you came back to me. You wanted me to be your best friend again. You said that you and I would be besties forever. I had to learn the hard way. You didn’t know who you were, and you probably didn’t want me to be your best friend. You were perhaps holding on to me. But I didn’t write this letter to complain about the past. I wrote this letter to tell you that I don’t want to hold on to these feelings of betrayal anymore, so I forgive you. I will never go back to being your best friend, but I do forgive you. There’s one thing I want you to know through all the times you did wrong me. It hurt. It was like my best friend was the one that put the knife through my back. I haven’t forgiven myself because you betrayed me more than five times, but I kept being your best friend. I kept having your back. You got in trouble; I got in trouble. You were arguing with somebody. I was arguing with that person too. Anybody wanted to fight; I was there. But I realize I can’t put all the blame on you because I should have left you when you started switching up. I never forgave myself. So when I finish writing this letter, I want you to know that I excused myself and forgive you.
If I’m honest, I don’t think all of this was your fault. I feel that you probably feel jealous of me. I was finding new friends, and I was around more people. But that’s just the way I comfort myself because I don’t like to be alone. I always knew that about myself. I knew that you had my back, but then you just left. To me, it was like one day you were there, then the next day you were gone. Sometimes I felt jealous of you. I thought that you were just like the wind. You move on, you become a new person, but then I always felt at the end that the wind kept hitting back at me. It’s like you were my other half. When you left me, I thought that no one wanted me. I felt that if I couldn’t even keep my best friend, then what was the purpose of me being friends with anybody. But then I realized that you’re just the type of person who likes to explore and wants to know different people’s personalities. The only thing is when you do that, you leave other people behind instead of taking them with you. Now I realize that I shouldn’t be mad at you, neither should I be jealous. You were the type of person that wanted many people around you. You were the type to explore. If I’m honest, there’s nothing I can do. I forgive you for leaving me. Our friendship was nothing more than an elementary school friendship. I forgive you, but most importantly, I forgive myself for being mad every time you left. I forgive myself for always wanting you to come back to me. I forgive myself for taking you back every time you left me. I hope you’re doing good. I haven’t talked to you in 7 years. How’s it going?
A “Heart Made of glass my mind of stone” after Billie Eilish ft Khalid
A heart that isn’t pumping is a dead one A mind that isn’t thinking A person who isn’t productive
is of no use is of no change to the world
But your mind and your heart and your productivity can define you and always will
by Zainab Kuta
I was struggling to write this. I wasn’t sure how to feel about you after all the pain that you caused me. I forgot about you until I had to remember pain. I forgot about you until I had to describe a crippling feeling. I started thinking about you late at night again. Every night it was different this time around. I can see why I was put in this situation and why it had this outcome. Although I didn’t expect it and my friends did. I believed they were crazy for thinking that you could’ve hurt me. I wish more people were able to see both sides of you. Yes, you were a sweet and trusting person, but you were also a manipulative person, and I couldn’t see that. I don’t miss you anymore, and I forgave you a long time ago because, yes, you hurt me even though you were the person I loved. I was a different person when I was around you, but it also made me realize how much our relationship hurt both of us and how I could be so much better without you. I’m grateful to have met you and have made some fantastic memories. Even though some weren’t as good, I learned from them, and I forgive you. I hope that you are doing good and continue to. I know I carry our memories and release those that no longer serve me.
ANGELA aguirre Angela Aguirre is an author, speaker, and teacher. A fierce advocate for women + youth in her community, she believes in using her platform to empower. Angela started her journey at DPL in 2010 and has been performing her poetry since. In 2016, her book of poetry and writing prompts Confessions of a Firework was published. In 2017, she was the youngest honored as one of ten Women of the Year by Senator Anthony Portantino. In 2018, she gave the opening talk at TEDxCSULA. In 2019, she launched The Millennial Mija Podcast. In 2020, she created a h e a l i n g workshop series called Season of Self which has created a community for women and femmes on their individual journies to self discovery and growth. She has done professional keynotes for conferences, graduations, and corporate events. Her work has been featured by Latina Magazine, All Def Digital, Voto Latino, KCET + The Huffington Post. IG + TWITTER: @Millennialmija millennialmija.com
In what ways have your writing rituals changed over the years?
Back in the day, I was more eager to write. I would wait for a line to come to me or a concept or an idea, but it is not like that anymore. I was more eager to write because we were always at the lounge, and having new material was the goal. But now it's not like that. I give my ideas more time to marinate before I write them down.
Who is your favorite writer, and why?
If you weren't a writer, what career would you have liked to pursue? I wanted to be on the Disney channel when I was a kid, and I still do so, maybe acting.
First of all, I have no favorite anything because that's way too much pressure, but some writers I love are YOU! Venessa Marco, because you speak from the heart and use words to make the truth sound beautiful. Also, Tonya Ingram because she makes me feel seen and feel ok to have all these feelings. At what point in your life did you realize that you're an artist and named yourself as such? How do you honor this naming in your everyday life? My whole life. I think it's the way I see the world. I find beauty in everything. I admire things that people typically wouldn't consider art. I see poetry in everything. I see art in everything. I digest stuff as an artist. It speaks to me. I see the beauty in everything. Describe your perfect day Eating bomb food. Going to the beach until sunset. Spending time laughing, eating
What is your favorite poem written by yourself?
The most fun poem to do is Chingona Fire. I like the way it makes others feel. What was your favorite performance? One of my first performances was one of my favorites. At an event called Women for Racial Justice, it was at The Hilton, and this was my first year invited. There were over 300 people, and I taught them the word Chingona. It was the first time I realized I could command a room outside of a poetry setting.
Did you have a support system when you decided to live in your purpose and be an artist?
My family didn't think it was practical. They were unsure I could live off of my artistry. Therefore, they advised me to continue working my 9-5, but I found an online community that helped me navigate this new journey. I felt encouraged. I have a steady community that constantly supports my creativity and poetry, and I'm incredibly grateful to them for all their support. Is there a constant theme in your poetry? If so, what theme is it and why? The theme of my poetry is truth telling. I focus on whether or not the poem is in my voice and authentic to myself.
What are your favorite characteristics of yourself?
My ideas. I have the best ideas. I don't always go through with them, but I have solid genius moments. I also love my sense of humor.
Ashelyn Hernandez
I feel I’ve grown as a writer
In my everyday life, writing helps me air out my thoughts and puts into perspective how I feel. I’ve learned a lot about myself through writing this year. Writing helped me when I found myself struggling, and it’s something that I wish to continue doing, even if it’s just for myself. I’ve changed as a writer because before, I thought that writing was dumb and I wouldn’t want to do it, I didn’t understand why people did it and how they felt good about writing, but now I understand the feeling. I look forward to continuing my journey as a writer and finding my voice.
Why you play with my heart and not show love consistently? after Chosen 1 by Polo G not everyone holds the same love as you do not everyone holds the same trust as you do You give it out to the world with open arms, but what do you receive? be cold, they say, don't love too hard they say, It's not something you can not do You can't turn your own heart black It has to be bruised enough, thrown around and played with enough, in order for it to be black like they want You love hard because its genuine, You care because it feels good It feels like cloud nine You eventually stop loving and caring after the trauma, Lies, fear, and heartaches You stop wanting to feel like you're on cloud nine Because if something can feel so good it can later feel so bad Why keep reaping it and finding out eventually love is going to turn into heartache and depression After the trauma A heart stays as cold as the day it was first left behind Winter lives here now and they say It's okay to stay that way
The World's Expectations of Me vs My Own
Many moments have changed my life. I don't know for better
Ye ss e y r a m
teo Ma
or worse. I've stumbled and fallen over repeatedly when facing a goal I have in mind. For example, my parents have always been thorough but lenient when it came to having decent grades. I grew up with the expectation that I have to be on top. So as a child, I ended up coming out on top and receiving good grades, awards, and medals, being acknowledged for my academics, and being a scholar. I felt relieved and happy to know that my parents were pleased with me and my grades. However, as soon as I was getting past elementary school and I entered the depths of high school, that soon started to spiral downhill rapidly for me. My parents did not see much progress, and I had quickly begun to fall behind in a multitude of classes. My parents began to be displeased with me since I was not on top of my A-game. I felt terrible and hung my head low and tried to pick it back up, and I did for quite some time. I was starting to feel at ease and relieved once I found a good flow when working and understanding the context in each class I had. Unfortunately, that did not last long. You see, I started to get frustrated with the work and tried completing assignments, but they began to be turned in late one by one. I did not attend classes, and my parents were in a sour mood and compared me, which I hate, and it affected me. I eventually started to burn out, lose motivation to do work, and inevitably stopped doing the work. I despised everything and wanted to remain in the black hole. I felt unattainable expectations were consuming me. I cut myself off from the world again.
In all honesty, I don't have expectations for anyone close to me. I do wish they could be a little more understanding and considerate of others, to be honest. They tend to judge or weigh you down with their words without giving it a second thought. It's like they are nailing screws into your heart as if they are a hammer that gives that solid hit that sends you home. I want them to not jump to conclusions too because they lead nowhere, and it forms this cloud-like atmosphere and misleads them into thinking the worst. Besides, for me, I am used to not expecting anything from anyone.It would be nice, though, if they could understand or try to and be respectful and fair. I don't expect anyone to sugarcoat things, but I appreciate the room not to feel burdened by expectations.
There will be times when you don't always meet your expectations or anyone's at that, and that is okay. It does not mean that you are incapable of meeting that goal, but it may take a little more time to accomplish it, which is fine. You can also switch your goals and can always try your previous one for later. I know there is always another day. I can pick things back up and try new things. I have to take one step at a time. In conclusion, I take things slow. I am learning to take some time out for myself and ensure that my health is being prioritized and taken care of, or else it will affect other things like school and work. I try to remember to do what I can and give it my all. My goal
is to live up to my expectations and make sure everything I do is to the best of my abilities.
Election Blues Fatima Ceesay
This election has made me feel many different emotions. Some of my feelings are happy and glad, but at the same time, I'm scared I don't know what the United States of America has become. We don't know if we will get pulled out of the hole or go in deeper. We don't know if this will affect us �inancially, emotionally, or spiritually, but the one thing I do know is that Biden has better plans for us than Trump. Trump isn't thinking for the long run. He isn't thinking of the people; he wants Covid-19 to spread, trying to open the country up to the possibility of more, but Biden, on the other hand, wants Covid-19 to get under control before he opens up the state. Biden strikes me as a better candidate for several reasons. He wanted to raise taxes on the wealthier and not on the poor and wanted to put Covid-19 under control. He also wants to do more for the environment and people of color, and he isn't racist or sexist. Trump, on the other hand, wants to stop abortions. This is an issue because what if a female was raped and got pregnant and doesn't want to keep their child? Preventing abortion will make the mother live with that misery. Also, Trump is sexist and wants to stop the LGBTQ community. He discriminates a lot.
After the election, I hope we get more control of the justice system. The justice system should provide security for everyone. As a community, we must stop police brutality by putting an end to innocent citizens getting hurt and fearing for their lives—also, making new laws against police of�icers who don't follow protocol or use excessive force because of someone's skin color. I would also want there to be laws to stop gentri�ication. Overall, I hope the United States of America gets a respite from the tension surrounding us for the past four years
Poem inspired by a Black Lives Matter image by Sanai Hundley
growing up I always heard that Black isn't beautiful They said, being black leads to an early casket but I'm still here I'm still alive I never let the white lies get in the way of my beautiful colored skin Black is ever "B" word Bold Brave Big-hearted Blessed and most importantly Beautiful I'm Black and I'm proud
My last memory of you, mamá by Yojhan Santana Baez My favorite childhood memory was the last day my mother was alive. We were at a party at my grandmother's house because my mother, my little brother, who was barely two years old, and I would come to the United States. At that party, we all enjoyed each other a lot. At the end of the party, my grandmother told my mother, "Cindy, don't go home with the children at this time because it's too late." She replied, "Mami, we're going to go home. You slept uncomfortably last night because there were too many of us." Then we left. I remember when we got home, I went straight to bed to sleep. I slept in the same bed with my mother. The last thing I saw was my mother giving milk to my little brother. Then I fell asleep.
When I woke up, I heard my little brother crying. He was still in the crib, there was a man between my mother and I who was also still sleeping, and he was hugging me. I knew him because he used to visit our house every day. He used to visit my mother. He was in love with her. When I got out of bed, I saw that my mother was foaming at the mouth, and he, too, was foaming at the mouth. I was innocent. I did not know anything. A friend of hers knocked on the door. I ran and opened it.
When she entered, the first thing she did was put her hand on her head and began to shout "POR FAVOR AYUDENME! CINDY ESTÁ MUERTA!" "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP CINDY IS DEAD" Our entire family began to arrive. They took my little brother out and called the ambulance, and all the people were in shock. I was crying. When the ambulance arrived, they took the bodies to do an autopsy. They took me away. They didn't want to tell my grandmother, but she was already imagining what was happening because I arrived crying. When they told her she got very sick, they had to calm her down and take her to the doctor. It was a poison that he gave her to drink, and he also drank it. My grandmother had to overcome the death of her only daughter, she had sons, but my mother was her only daughter. She had to struggle, to fight, but she raised my brother and me. I thank her for my life. Years later, I came with my father to the United States, and my little brother stayed behind. He's not going to live with me. He has a different father. I'm going to visit him all the time. My grandmother is still living in the Dominican Republic with my younger brother. She has a lot of support from her family. My dream is to finish college and bring her to live with me, Si Dios quiere.
This memory is my favorite because it was the last memory I have of my mother.
In loving memory of Erin Garry, Thank You.
