Gallo Pinto: A Zine on Latin Identity and Queerness by Bologna

Table of Contents Sections Introduction………………........................................................................................pg 3 Poetry on Celestial Bodies………………………………………………………...pg 5 Method and Equation……………………………………………………………...pg 6 Selfies……………………………………………………………………………...pg 11 Untitled Poetry…………………………………………………………………….pg 16 American....................................................................................................................pg 20 Mariposa Traicionera by Ashley P……………………………………………….pg 25 “That Spanish Girl”……………………………………………………………….pg 27 A Poem by Melissa A……………………………………………………………. pg 30 @ the Femininity………………………………………………………………….pg 33 As Seen On by Emily G…………………………………………………………...pg 41 An Excerpt from the Journal of Christie M…………………………………….....pg 41 & 43 Conclusion.................................................................................................................pg 45 Works Cited……………………………………………………………………….pg 46

CONTENT WARNING This zine contains topics such as body feels which include but may not be limited to: Body Dysmorphia, Eating Disorders, and Self Harm

Introduction What does it mean to be Latina? It’s not a race. It’s not skin. It’s not food. It’s not a dance. It’s not a place. In the research for this zine I have found that there are many things that being Latina is not--so what does it mean for me to identify as Latina or Latin@? When I originally set out to create this zine I wanted it to be a celebration of the things I was about to explore but then I realized that when I referred to myself or anyone else being as latin I only had a vague and misguided notion of what that really meant. I also wanted it to be an outlet for queer and women identified latinas@s to talk about what matters to us. I wanted validation for my experiences because I felt isolated. I think mostly I wanted to find community, perhaps to even create one. I needed to make this zine so I could find a place for myself, so I could better understand myself. This zine is very much about me. In the process I have to learned recognize the nuances of what it means to Latin@. So many things separate us from colorism to hair texture to ancestry to place but what is it that connects us other than a word defined by a loose concept? We are defined by where we are not: Latin America. “The usual informal definition of what constitutes Latin America historically: those areas of the Western Hemisphere originally claimed (even if not completely or affectively occupied) by Spain and Portugal, and where the dominant national language today is either Spanish or Portuguese” (Holloway 5-6). This basically includes from Mexico down to Argentina with the exclusion of Belize in Central America and Suriname, Guyana, and French Guiana in South America. As far as the islands to 3

the east, the majority of them are not considered Latin America with the exception of Puerto Rico, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic. The entire region was colonized by one western European country or another but exactly who colonized us and how is how we define ourselves today, even 500 years later. What’s problematic about this is that we define ourselves by only acknowledging the oppressive forces that took land away from so many groups of people. The Spaniards, Los Conquistadores, came from Iberia beginning in that fateful year . “In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue” His boats were “The Nina, The Pinta, and The Santa Maria” This is one of the first rhymes I remember learning when I was young.

Poetry on Celestial Bodies By Bologna (A Preface) The moon does not emit it's own light, but requires the sun to reflect off of it in order to be recognized. For all that it represents it is so dependent on the sun for anyone to see its surface. Still, its face is its own. Whether bathed in radiation or celestial darkness its cratered facade exists with or without acknowlegment from the sun or any other star. I too exist in a similar way. (A prolonged thought on the hierarchy of celestial bodies) Perhaps I am too hard on the sun, known for being garish and having billions of followers since humans realized their ability to worship. Perhaps it is not that the sun is self centered but that it is at the center of things purely in a physical way. Their mass absorbing rocks and gaseous orbs into it's elipses of gravity. Perhaps the sun was shy to begin with. And this is them now, basking in its own glow. Perhaps the sun is far busyier than we think with its engine constantly running to rub out the spots from its placid but pristine surface, a hard job for the largest of bodies among us. I am not so large, I would have no clue, though I know what it is to be marked. I am the moon and it is true that it is always the same half of me that's dark. I have had my glimpses of worship but no chariots descend from me, instead I incur a cloak, a darkness a fear though I cause no physical direct pain like the sun. The sun burns eyes just by looking at it, burns skin just for having the audacity to be lying out in the day time, working during the suns prime, people stay away from it concerned melanin will gather in them. The moon, they gaze at me directly, feel love for one another because as the night grows unsightly they use me to keep their nights brighter and less full of terror. They tell others for whom they share love that no matter how far away they will always look at me to assure them the other is there. That I am as constant as their bond. I am emotionally volatile and I cause sickness without burning a thing. I move the water but it never reaches me. It is true that I am marked. Some have confused me for a face. But whatever humanoid features transposed onto my being are only imaginitive which is not to say they aren't real. They are only real in other realities besides mine. Some people paint the sun with sunglasses on. Is it sheilding itself from the very light that it emits and reflects off of other objects? perhaps it is protecting itself from absorbing the lights of its farther away siblings. In fact, it would make more sense for the rest of us to wear them. But who am I to speak for the hardship of others I am the moon. I am worshipped and though my fame is duplicitous and sometimes my associations are shameful I know what it is to be needed. Whether either side of me has recognition or not. In truth, as the sun perpetually throws its shine towards my surface I am actually the earths first and the suns second. Though none of us know this. Who am I to speak for what us other celestial bodies need? I recieve enough attention to survive. I am not neptune or even uranus, the butt of all jokes. Who am I with the privilege of recognition to say who needs protection? It is not astounding how me and the moon are alike for we never know what we can say or when we can say it. Instead we stare silently at eachother in a pensive pocced manner. With thoughts in our roundest parts and emptiness around us.

Method and Equation Over a period of months I reached out to friends and acquaintances and asked if I could have a conversation about our identities and record it. These conversations were free flowing and I allowed the other person to talk at length and go in whatever direction they felt fit. It was intended that people spoke about what meant something to them. I had certain guiding questions for each conversation to keep the conversation on my topics of focus. Those questions were: How do you identify? Where is your family from? What is your relationship with you parents? How does your racial identity fit with your sexual or gender identity? The topics from there ranged from skin color, to Sophia Vergara, to indigenous identities, to family dynamic and more. Some Friends I interviewed are Emily Chanelle Oriana Ashley Natasha Dani Melissa Cody Christie There are some people whose conversations I will paraphrase. My year has been filled with blabbering about what my identity means so Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve had many unrecorded conversations with many other people.

The people I’ve conversed with, whether recorded or not have been from all over Latin America. From Mexico to Columbia to Argentina. In the beginning I thoughtlessy accepted this tie that was the “Latino community”. Benedict Anderson explores this idea of nationalism as an “imagined community” (Anderson 5-7). This sense of unity that we have without ever knowing or even the possibility of knowing every person from your country or who identifies using the same words you do. Just as with an ambiguous identity as Latin “Nation, nationality, nationalism all have proved notoriously difficult to define, let alone to analyze.” (Anderson 3) Imagine then an identity that has no country but a rather large geographic region that encompasses well over a bakers dozen of countries, multiple languages and religions. And yet this word like, national pride demands “emotional legitimacy”, I know I have been moved and motivated by the word Latina and especially when I first saw the word Latin@ which was meant to be inclusive of queer identities (Anderson 4). The Latina or Latin@ community is an imagined one because members “will never know most of their fellow members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion” (Anderson 6). Anderson goes on to state that “the nation is imagined as limited because even the largest of them… has finite, if elastic, boundaries, beyond which lie other nations.” This applies to Latin identity because while there are many ways to fulfill a Latin identity there are many ways being Latin is not. “No nation imagines itself coterminous with mankind.” (Anderson 7) Being Latin is recognized as a separate identity it has a definition because one was needed, it’s not as simple as being white or black or being from Venezuela. There’s more to it, it’s just hard figuring out what that more is. The Latino community is imagined “as a community, because regardless of the actual 7

inequality…the nation is always conceived as a deep horizontal comradeship” (Anderson 7) However I’m not sure who is seeing the word “Latina” and seeing that “comradeship”. My mother may say she’s Hispanic but she’s Costa Rican first. I’ve never even heard her say the word Latina. In fact I think up until these interviews I have mainly heard white social justice people use it. But I knew this word was mine and mine to share I just wasn’t sure who else’s it was. I had this idea in my head of “Latina” that was just a conglomeration of my experiences and what others had told what being Latin was. But after having these conversations and after much reflection things didn’t add up. No matter which way I tried to add things up no one equation had the solution “Latina”.

× ≅ Latina

SOLVE FOR X Y ÷ Z < M − N +Q∗Y

Or maybe n

( x +a ) =∑ n x k a n−k k=0 k n

()

Or it could be x=

−b ± √ b 2−4 ac 2a

What about sin α ± sin β=2sin

1 1 ( α ± β ) cos ( α ∓ β ) 2 2

There are so many fragments to account for. Class, skin color, hair texture, culture, religion, where you were born, where your parents were born, whether you even have parents or which ones you do have, do you speak Spanish, can you understand it? I found that with in people’s families racial identities did not even match. I know that within my own it doesn’t. So where was I getting this idea that there was some Latino community out there waiting on a beach for me to come running towards it and we’d meet in the middle and hug and one of us would lift the other off the sand. This weird fantasy that Latinos were all in this one place and I just to find them by talking to these other people who

identified as Latin. I could reconcile this feeling of alienation through validation and it was as simple but as difficult as finding crude oil in the earth. As I spoke with people I realized that the reason there are so many fragments is because we are so fragmented. I think a part of this fragmentation is that being Latino isn’t a race but seems to be treated like one. Not only is the term Latino a new one but also race isn’t real, it’s made up. This is evident in the different constructions of race. What’s white in one country isn’t white in another. With all these messages coming at me and all this confusion I have decided to do a content analysis for the information I’ve gathered. I will quote the friends who I’ve spoken with over the past year to further explicate my points and validate my feelings and maybe yours too.

Untitled by Bologna My friend comes over after school one day in high school. Her skin is a light peach color, maybe pinker. Her hair is thick and brown and curly. She says she likes my skin. It’s a good brown. She doesn’t really like some brown skin. I’m not sure which she said first. “What?” “Here, let me show you.” She goes on the computer to look up brown people— people here look closer to their indigenous ancestry than I do, am. “You’re not like this brown, it’s a different undertone” Dark Olive Tan My mom is Central American, which probably also makes me Central American, that, but, also, citizenship. My dad is an upper middle class Jewish man from Long Island. Dual Citizen When I was younger I would tell people I was jewish, people wouldn’t believe me. I would like to say, right now, that I never believed that I was really that dark. I definitely am not that dark. I hesitate to even call myself brown. My mom and dad like to make this joke where they hear someone’s name and then joke about their ethnicity. “Shannon Mcdougal, so she’s Chinese?” This joke made no sense. SHANNON MCDOUGAL COULD HAVE CHINESE ANCESTRY what if she’s adopted? what if one of the people who created her is Chinese? I had friends who were adopted whose ethnicities did not match their parents. This was a joke too. People didn’t understand my identities and wouldn’t believe them, but there they were just joking about how “obvious” it was while they were raising children who were ambiguous, whose questions about identities were not a joke. I’m not sure what White Passing is. I grew up on Long Island, further east than where my dad had grown up. It was less Jewish and not as pretty. I went to school. The other girls didn’t speak Spanish the way I did. Puerto Rico, El Salvador, Dominican Republic, it was years before I understood how complicated the countries of Latin America were and how separate they were from each other. I guess I’m Central American, I’ve been told I look like it as in “you look central American”. Some years ago though I was asked more often than I was told what I was. “Aren’t you muslim?” “You’re Puerto Rican right?” “Columbian?” “Hawaiian?” “Philippino?” I realize Islam is not a country you can be from, but other people don’t exactly think about these things where I grew up. They just associated brown people with random brown people things. It’s like they had a brown wheel of fortune and spun it and wherever it landed on then that was their guess. In this case the fortune was if they guessed hispanic. But it’s interesting, right? They knew I wasn’t white they just weren’t sure how. People approach me speaking in Spanish sometimes now. I get nods from (what I perceive to be) fellow “latin amercians” whatever that means. I’ve been called a sister in regards to other Latinas and their own identities. 16

People whom I’ve never meant act like they know me sometimes, is this community? There were times when I had a friend or two who did not realize I was anything other than white. I took this to heart until I realized they were wearing their super problematic “colorblinders” Now I don’t know what I look like, mirrors mean nothing. I often look down and it’s like my fingernails are eyes on my hands and they look back at me shiny, tan, chubby, and short. What was it that made people so unsure of what I was but sure of what I wasn’t? I used to position myself right in the moonlight in morning before the bus would come for school. I had this image of myself where I was paper white. I wanted wavy red hair and hazel green eyes. I remember my friends joking about how weird it would be if I were blonde or if I had blue eyes, Why? My sisters wanted my skin. In the summer they would try and tan. Then when I was tanner than them they would joke and call me native and call me black. Why? My middle sister is so pretty, she is paler than me and she dyes her hair blonde. When we were younger I remember she wore blue contacts. She has a small nose and big black eyes. My sister would tell me I was adopted from Mexico. I believed her. If the other Latina girls didn’t want me then I don’t want them. I have pants that are checkered purple and black. I buy sweatbands from hot topic and jelly bracelets, I figured out different ways to put them on my wrist. My mom doesn’t want me in there because it’s “gothic-y”. The darker the clothes the lighter the skin. I’m jewish. I dated a boy who was so pale with black hair shaved on the sides with a longer strip of hair in the middle. He has hazel green eyes. His lips are so red. Before me he dated another Latina, and before her a Philippino girl. They were short and wide and with tan skin and black hair. Did I look like that? A boy says he’s afraid of my ass. Another boy tells me I’m blessed. I go to a friend’s quinceñera in a yellow skintight dress. I look tan. We all have to wear the same dress but I was well informed that I looked 18 when I was 14. I don’t remember my designated dance partners name or his eyes or much else other than he really liked the word damn and wouldn’t stop talking about my body. About a year in the boyfriend with the bright lips and the light eyes shaves the rest of his head and calls the movie “Precious” “’airbud’ for skinhead families. “ He says he loves American History X and sings the song. He hates the ending of the movie. He says the n-word now. Exclusively with the –er. I tell him I’m worried 17

about the new friends he’s making, the friends he has, and the ones he’s looking to make. What will I do when I meet them? They will see that I am not white. “tell them you’re Italian”. My mom hates Italians. No one has ever guessed I looked Italian. Ever. I refuse. I do some messed up junk myself. I just wanted to be white. So that boy could love me. He tells me on my birthday that if we ever break up we couldn’t get back together because he would be a race traitor. When I spoke about the future we weren’t allowed to have children together for the same reason. What is it exactly? In Costa Rica I’m white. And Costa Rica is so unique in Central America. We are whiter. Like, genetically speaking we are on average 54% European (Segura-Wang) but here I am tan. Here I am being asked if I speak Mexican, being called a 1

“Spigger”. What is it? I’m not sure if I pass,i or if I know what white is at this point. But I know that I’ve tried really hard to be it.

American In this section I explore what it means to have Latin heritage in Anglo America. I also attempt to touch upon racial ambiguity from the perspective of multiple complexions.

I ask Ashley how she identifies “in terms of my ethnicity -- and I am the daughter of two Colombian immigrants who arrived here in 1991, so I am a Colombian-American, second generation, technically…I am Colombian-American. I was raised Colombian -English was my second language -- I spoke Spanish, you know, writing letters to El Niño Dios and not to Santa Claus, nothing like that. So, I guess coming here and being in -- I'm from Jackson Heights -- we were all Colombian. Everyone's parents had just gotten here, and just being here, and I guess realizing that some people might not automatically consider me American was a weird thing, too. Also, just the more that I'm doing my Senior Project, just coming to terms to what "American" actually means, and if that's something that I'd even want to identify myself as. But I am Latina, Colombian, and very proud of that.” We are not automatically American because we are immediately perceived as un-Anglo. To build on this in the best way that I can I will reiterate the binary that constantly guides everything American. Right now I want to focus on the racial binary of black and white or rather black or white. Because it was frequently the case where in my conversations with my friends we felt the pressure to choose. Melissa uses an anecdote of a recent interaction with a fellow Dominicana, their conversation went something like this “Melissa! How do you identify? What box would you click: Black or White????" I was like, "LOL. I don't have to pick a box! That's not how this works." She was like, "Well, I'm in a social justice movement, and they're kind of telling me -- denying my identity, and telling me I have to pick another one." That's disgusting, that we're doing this to ourselves. -In social justice movements-, we're telling people, "You cannot identify the way that you are identifying." Who are you to tell anybody else what they can identify as? That's my biggest problem about it. I understand the history -- I understand that people bred, la la la, but if someone isn't identifying as black, even though their skin is dark, you can't make them! You can't -- you can't make people pick boxes.” But here we are, we are given literal boxes with only a few choices that are completely undefined and told to choose one or to “check off all that apply”.

Melissa goes on to say “we have to decide whether we're black and white, and that's been fucking with me a lot lately, because I've never once thought of myself as a black person, or as a white person. I've only ever been Latina, because that's what I am -- I've only ever been Dominican, so I don't know. I'm struggling with that, because I know that the world, especially now that I have dreads, the world identifies me as a certain way, but the way that I identify myself might not link up to that…I've always identified as just Latina, but now since my skin is a little more tanner, my hair is a little more kinkier, I've been more identifying as black, since people have identified me as black. And I do have to remember that there are black Spanish people, but we're only ever shown one image of Spanish people. We're only ever shown super long hair, tanner skin, looking more indigenous, but there are straight up black Spanish people.” Melissa touches upon the fact that we have this very particular view of what “Latina” is. Chanelle explicates that “the American (idea) of Latina is this exotic being, who's this -- people have an image of what they see a Latina as, and I think it's this sort of slim, tall, exotic-looking, long brown hair, has an accent maybe. I think that's some people's idea of Latina.” The Latina is certainly not dark skinned and may have wavy hair but not too kinky. Like Melissa said, she is more likely to have a touch of indigenous ancestry come up in the form of “coffee” or “caramel” colored skin; maybe she has high cheek bones. Even when this other identity is allowed to exist in such a binary understanding of race and ethnicity it seen as something so separate from blackness or whiteness. Latina is then understood as a race in itself which is a problem because it isn’t. When Oriana and I were talking we had similar feelings in relating to our Latin identity even though we are very different complexions. Oriana: It was always going back and forth between too black to be Spanish, and feeling too white to be Spanish…to always be caught between either/or -- because you know in yourself that you're in that grey area, but you don't know how to define it, so it almost feels like it doesn't exist, because, if I'm not black or white, what am I, Me: And it exists to you, but it's hard to explain -- and if it only exists to you, then it's harder to get someone else to validate it. Oriana: Exactly. And everyone who feels that way feels uncomfortable about it. There's no forum to be like, "Let's figure out what this means." Me: Or to even state that it's okay what this means, and it doesn't have to mean anything, but just to acknowledge that it exists.” 21

Melissa also contributes to the thought of constantly categorizing race according to binary standards. “It honestly hurts me so much, because I've identified as Hispanic for my whole life, and now I have to be Latino -- but I hear, "Latino is bad" so I'm like, "Am I a black person?" Meanwhile, a black person will tell me I'm not black, so I'm just like -- I don't know.” Oriana goes on to say “…people separate black and Latina so much that I can't be both at the same time…it always feels like convincing people -- I'm noticing that as I'm talking to you. It's all about convincing someone, and it's less about identifying myself for me, and so much more about identifying myself to make it easier for someone else.” So far in these conversations and even to myself this whole question of identity is barely been about me and it’s all about me. It’s about my place in society, my relation to others, what do people see me as, when I should talk and when I shut up, what I wear, who I talk to, I feel like I’m trying to figure out just how to exist. I think of ice cream, but not just ice cream, ice cream soup. When the ice cream has been left out too long in a bowl and all the toppings mix together. It’s not really ice cream anymore because the ice part melted and you can’t really tell the flavor just by looking at it anymore. So what is it? What do you do with it? Does it go back in the freezer? Do you still eat it? Do you still call it ice cream? Sometimes you want to throw it out.

Dani reflected back on what it meant to be a teen a largely Latin American populated area. "I don't want to be a part of this community. I want to focus on the white side of my family. I wish I grew up in Chicago instead." Those thoughts where I'm basically like, "I wish I was more white" -- I think that stems from the fact that it was looked down upon to be Latino/a, and I wanted to separate myself from that, when in reality it should have been more embraced.” However as a lighter skinned person Dani has another perspective on their relation to their Hispanic identity “I'm also never sure if I'm being read as white, or racially ambiguous -- I've asked people, "Do I look Hispanic?" They never really -- they're people that know me, though, so they're probably biased -- like, "I don't know, maybe" -- but I've always been curious. Do people see me and be like, "Oh, she's probably Hispanic””

White seems like such a separate thing in all of this. It seems like in my exploration I have constantly tried to explain being Latina and define, in speaking with other people who don’t have entirely European heritage it feels like we’re trying to define the non-white culture. Wouldn’t it be easier to just define Whiteness? They have blogs dedicated to “stuff white people like” or “things white people say”. In Oriana’s experience “It was like being white meant doing stupid shit. It was all that -- not ever wanting to be home with my family -- because I think that's a huge thing about being Latina, being very family-oriented.” My mom frequently says that people in this country (the United States) have no sense of family. White people don’t know how to treat their children, they give their kids crap for lunch. Since I can remember I would go down to Costa Rica with my mother and we would see as much of her family as possible. I swear every other day my mother texts me sayings it’s my cousin Paola’s birthday or my Tio Javier has a new god son, or something. I can’t keep up, I have so much family and they’re all meant to be important and put first. It’s something that growing up the way I did I don’t quite understand. There’s a saying “you can pick your nose and you can pick your friends but you can’t pick your friends nose.” I like that I can pick who I love. My family’s love does not feel unconditional. It is hard to talk to them often about so many things, I rarely feel respected, which is not to say I don’t feel cared for, it’s just that if these people weren’t related to me I’m not sure if I would have anything to do with them. I guess this sort of teaches me how to get along with all kinds of people but it also makes me feel uncomfortable in places that are supposed to be my home. My family is the reason I have such strong relationships with my friends. To my mom this is very American. Being able to speak Spanish and identifying as Latina is a point of contention. Natasha said “one huge problem in the Latina and Latino communities, is saying, "Oh, you don't speak Spanish, so you're not Latina," or whatever -- I do, but I know even people here who don't speak Spanish but do identify as Latina. I feel that's an unjust way to discredit people.” In my conversation with Christie who has a harder time speaking Spanish said “whenever someone is speaking Spanish around me, I'm drawn to it and immediately uncomfortable -- I feel like I'm not part of it anymore.” Me: Do you think if you had more of a connection with language, would you feel less white? Christie: Yeah. Definitely…when I was seven, I would not identify as white. At this point, I have no idea -- flat out. I just don't know anymore. It's gotten so lost and twisted over the years, and I've only now just begun to pick it up and try to make sense of it.” 23

I rarely spoke Spanish outside of my relationship with my mother, let alone outside of my house, and so my language capabilities are not entirely fluent. In Oriana’s experience “I never spoke Spanish outside of my house, and that was a big part of not feeling Latina enough. I remember, every time I would go home or be around my neighborhood, all of the Spanish girls my age would be speaking Spanish to each other.” If you’re gonna be Spanish you better speak it. If you’re gonna be brown you better act it. All of these messages what it is to be Latina an what it is to be American and never really being able to achieve either identity in the eyes of others. This constant back and forth trying to convince people that we are one thing or another or both things or all things, that we can be so many things and still be American.

We are not allowed to be here or there. Mariposa Traicionera A still from http://students.purchase.edu/ashley.pinilla/sp/ By Ashley Pinilla

“That Spanish Girl” "the Spanish girl" "that Spanish girl" In my conversations, whether recorded or casual, there was this phrase. "that Spanish girl" as in, I am, I was, I am referred to as, nobody knows my name I am just… "that Spanish girl". Ashley noticed that after making the move from her home in Jackson heights to our campus her main identifier became “that Spanish girl”. In our conversation Ashley noted that if she were white then people wouldn’t have to think twice about identifying her as American or not. But because of what she looks like on campus that has a white population which accounts for over half the college attendees she is constantly categorized as something other than American. In Fall 2014 our campus was 55% white identified, 17% Hispanic, and 9% Black (College Portrait). It wasn’t until she studied abroad in India that she finally felt the persistent need to be classified fade away. “It was interesting to me to have to have traveled across the world to be in a situation where people aren't constantly asking me where I'm from.” In another country associated with darker features Ashley was able to tell that she was no longer considered out of place. She was not a stranger in a strange land even though her family comes from Columbia in South America and she identifies very strongly as Colombian. This says something: Ashley noticed her peers on the trip were the ones being asked where they were from but she blended right in. They were there visiting but recognized as foreigners. Foreignness is something to be questioned even if in congenial settings because anything out of the norm can be dangerous. If there is something we don’t know we ask questions about it to get to know it, to see if this is something we can interact or not. And so I come to the conclusion: Asking “where are you from” Is a little like “asking why are you here” Is a little like saying “tell me why you’re here and let’s see if I’ll let you stay” Is like saying “prove to me why you should exist.” This is okay when on vacation or study abroad because these are peoples everyday lives you are entering and they have a right to know why these strangers are where they are. The situation changes though when you are being questioned in your own country, “sort of like they need a disclaimer before accepting me here. I guess just in terms of -- I've always identified myself as an American, but I put more thought into it now, and I realize that as an artist I'm always going to be labeled, first, Latina and Colombian-American artist”. This gets immensely complicated when a multitude of people 28

from differing backgrounds inhabit a place and yet only a certain selective set of backgrounds is accepted as normal, as non-threatening. The tan, brown, and frequently black are seen as invaders and must justify their existence. Asking “where are you from” has this assumption of “you’re not from here because you don’t look like what I think people from here look like.” In a culture that has a narrow and frequently unattainable standard of beauty coupled with a binary understanding of race it can be difficult to function as an “American” simply because to most you are not. “We're not the America that they see. There's a very specific type of person that you imagine when you think of an "American", and it's not us” To pile on the complications, going to a place where you are “from” you are frequently not read as being from there at all anymore. It is something I have encountered, I am simultaneously “gringa” and “Costa Rican”. Simultaneously too white to be brown and too brown to be white. Coming home every day from school and speaking to my mother about everyones invasive questions about where I’m from, where was I born, what do you speak, my mother would tell me “you say you’re American”. She would not accept but my protests that that was not what people were asking because I when I told them I was American they would say “but what are you really”, as if I couldn’t really be from here. The most prevalent non-American in my life was telling me I’m American while Americans were telling me I wasn’t. At the same time my mom didn’t want me to be “a Spanish girl”, she didn’t want me acting “ghetto” or “hood”. When I was younger I wanted hoop earrings, I wanted a name plate, I wanted baby phat. My sister had the hoops but with me my mom said absolutely not. She gave me some lipstick instead at one point and my teachers took me out of the classroom one day because of it. On the “Spanish girl look” Melissa says “You would tie back all your hair, real tight with gel,and then you'd bring down your baby hairs. That was definitely a Latina, urban look -- that signified a lot.” I remember there were also tooth brushes involved. Then there was gel to scrunch curly hair when it was still wet and it would get all crunchy. Dani also explains the word Chonga and the connotations behind the term and we discuss the connotations further: Dani: [Chonga is] a very Miami thing. It's sort of like -- very engrained in Miami culture. It's a mix of Miami culture and Latin American culture, so it's generally Cuban women, because there's a huge Cuban population in Miami, and they speak in a very heavy Cuban accent, and they wear big hoop earrings and tight tops -- a stereotype of Latina women who might be lower-income, or in lower-income neighborhoods. Kind of like "the ghetto" -- I think it's more of a strictly Miami thing, but it's in the same vein. 29

Me: …what I've taken away from my mother is that she feels that we are better than them because we don't wear the hoop earrings -- my mother would -never- let me. I wanted to, she wouldn't let me. We wouldn't wear the tight shirts. We couldn't grease down our baby hairs. Dani: There's definitely a culture behind that, and this classist view that's, "I'm not a chonga -- I'm not a gang member." I think that definitely fits in to class difference, and wealth difference, that's tied in to race. Maybe someone who is a bit more assimilated would be like, "Well, I'm not like that." It's crappy, but it's definitely real.” Oriana says “My mom sheltered me so much from that whole culture, of being outside, and I think that's what being Latina in Inwood and Washington Heights was a lot -- being with your friends outside all the time. My mom never let me do that until I got a little older, and I think that affected me a lot in feeling like I was a Spanish girl.” Oriana talks about how even though there were other Spanish girls and Latinas around she never really befriended them she recalls one particular time they reached out “it was when we were twelve -- they wanted me to go to a teen lounge with them, and I remember thinking, this is mad Spanish, a teen lounge -- and my mom wouldn't let me go. I felt really horrible -- I was like, "Mom, let me go -- I want to do this. This is what people my age do. It's cool," and she was like, "No -- that's mad hick. You're not going to be a hick.” My mom would say the same shit. My mother was and is still so afraid of achieving that stereotype. Why are we so afraid of her, “that Spanish girl”? and yet I’ve still managed to be her without the hoops or name plates or acrylic nails. What’s really interesting is that we are defining ourselves as “Spanish” to which Oriana says “it's like, fuck, we're not Spanish. We're not from Spain. I never really thought about Spanish as being "from Spain" -- I never even thought about Spain period…it's just so easy for me to just say "Spanish", in reference to my hair, and me, and my family, and what I eat, and what I speak. It's an easy default.” While has such an extreme legacy in what is now the Americas it is evident in our skin, our hair, in our faces, the way we speak, what we eat, that we are not wholly “Spanish”. In my conversation with Cody I build upon this with Me:…It's interesting because we're defining ourselves by these parameters, in relation to European colonizers, but other people when they perceive us, that's not what they're seeing. That is not what they're visually defining us as. There's this weird -- it's not matching up.

C: I think that's mostly because we've taken on the lexicon of the oppressor, and we've taken on the ideology of the oppressor, so it's mores how can we stay true, or as authentic as we can, to what we feel is right, without paying homage to the people that are actively putting us down?” What makes us, “That Spanish Girl”? Because it’s not like we’re from Spain.

A Poem by Melissa A I wonder what it would be like if me and my friends had babies. Would they be undesired? Would their kind of color be wrong? Will people hate them because it is me they came out of? What about their kinky locs will they be able to grow free from their scalps or will social pressures like relaxers burn them straight? How long until I have to tell my baby that there are words specifically created to dehumanize them? How long until they start to hate me for even bringing them I to this world? What about my daughter, will she tell me about her assault? Will she believe it's her fault? Will the victim blaming rhetoric wrap around her neck silencing her? In my house nail polish will be for everyone. Will that get my son beat up? What if my children decide that this business of he's and she's doesn’t describe them? Will there be gender neutral bathrooms in middle schools in the future? I doubt it. I will never have kids, because the fate of little brown kids born to dyke moms is pretty grim. Don't judge me, my body had value far further then it's ability to reproduce. I know they don't want people like me to have babies. But tell me how will you comfort me when I get the call that my baby is dead, yet another victim of the police state. You won't, there is nothing to say. Just another way of keeping us in our place.

@ the Feminine Here I would like to discuss queerness and femininity, separately, if that’s possible, and also how they intersect. When I speak Spanish my voice get softer. I may speak in a higher register. I begin to speak fast to fake like I know what I’m trying to say. My mom spoke Spanish to me as a child and does still do so but only when she is rushing or when she is concerned or sometimes just because. I understand every word she says. These are a sentence or two, maybe a phrase, un dicho. I go to Costa Rica and I understand what’s going on usually. I can get food, find my way around, have meaningless conversations with family members. I can’t say much beyond that. I have my Spanish from when I was 5 and would come to Costa Rica often with just my mother and we would stay for longer periods of time with no internet and only 5 channels. We would stay with my aunt who knew no English as the majority of my family knows either very little or no English. That’s the Spanish I know. I know “muñequita preciosa” I know, “que lindisima”, “que grande sus cachetes”, “choncha”, “chevala”, “que necia”, “cebolla”,”bandida”, “trumpita”, “pitoofa”, “mi ‘mor” I know sientese, esperese. I know how to be told how cute I am, or how I’m behaving, or how to behave. I do not know how to convey queerness and even if I did I am not allowed to. I feel feminine when I speak Spanish when I interact with my family or other Latinos. I transition to cuando era niña. It’s what I know, I did not grow into a Spanish-English speaking adult. I grew up speaking English for more and more of the time. I never had the chance to find my identity as a Spanish speaking person as an adult and as a result I am submissive and interact in a very gender-conforming way no matter how masculine I am presenting. This is important because I am at a point where I am learning so much about queerness in regards to sexuality, gender, and expression. I feel so strongly aligned with the word queer in many respects because I have had the time to learn that it can mean so much. I do not identify as a man or a woman, I am somewhere in between but as far as expression goes I prefer to hang on the more masculine side which can be off-putting for some people as a female at birth assigned person. I am perceived as someone who should be performing as feminine. As for sexuality I don’t really care at this point but it’s mostly about them also identifying as queer in some way and that we have personal chemistry and mutual respect for each other. At this point in time I have a partner who is similarly queer identified and also female perceived. Look at all the words I just used. Words that can be confusing and are not perfect but I have something to navigate with. In Spanish I have so little. I have homosexual and maybe lesbiana. Which sound, clinical, binary, and really just feel wrong. I also

have pato, marimacha, playo, and maricone and to be honest lesbiana isn’t really used positively often either. In Costa Rica being gay is a joke and when it’s no longer funny it’s a threat. Christie speaks about their relationship with their family. They particularly touch upon their mothers reaction to their identity. Their mother is from Puerto Rico while their father is of Italian descent. Neither of their parents are accepting of Christies queer identity however as Christie says this becomes more of a barrier for trying to relate to their Latin identity. Chistie says “I think it's hard to intersect those two things because [my mother is] my gateway in to that world, but she's not the most accepting of it.” Their mother is bridge to their heritage but it’s hard to get over if you do not live up to the standards of heterosexuality. When I go to Costa Rica, I am not allowed to tell my family the full extent of what I study. I am only a sociology major. I cannot talk about gender studies. I am not queer or gay at all. My mom told me to bring different underwear to my Tia’s so that when I put them on the line she wouldn’t freak out when she saw “men’s underwear”. So I washed my underwear in secret and hung up decoy “lady” underwear so she wouldn’t be suspicious. This seemed so silly because it’ just underwear, no one even sees it. But holding up gender norms is my Tia’s favorite past time. In fact it seems to be quite the hobby among my fellow Latin@’s families as well. Cody remembers their “father being really -- he would bang our heads together. It was just -- he didn't understand anything outside, that deviated from the norm. It was very, "I have to push that machismo into you, so you can be a man."” I remember once when I mixed up my words talking to my Tia she said to me “Si tiene una vagena estas muy llena” I had accidently, in trying to speak quickly said “lleno”. Though I am thankful to my Tia for housing me and my other relatives for feeding me I do not feel like I can be myself. There are small ways, I can have a short haircut, I can wear pants, but I found myself wearing mascara so my Tia wouldn’t think otherwise. I didn’t want her to suspect for a second. I almost felt like it was respectful to be as gender conforming as possible. She still grilled me on stuff anyway. “Tiene un novio?” “Porque no tienes un novio?” gender conforming and it’s policing goes beyond heterosexuality.

I find myself in kitchens when I’m at Latino functions. I find myself serving everyone, I find myself picking up dishes and napkins and cups. I find myself asking my dad, my Tio, my sister boyfriend and his dad to pass me their plate “I’m going to put them in the kitchen”. They sit there, they do nothing. They might say “Gracias”, the women, if for some reason they haven’t picked up their plate already and I get it, sometimes they are surprised I picked it up for them. “Do you need any help cleaning up?” “Necesita aydudas en la cocina?” “Puedo llevar algo a la mesa?” The kitchens are so small and there are so many women. My dad sits with his legs spread drinking coffee my Tia brewed and my mother brought to him. He’s trying to tell my Tios about Cuban cigars in his “gringo” accent. Sometimes I force myself to sit. I tell myself not to move. I will not clean up. I will not touch anyone else’s plate, I will not step inside the kitchen. But then I see all the women get up. And I’m sitting there completely unnoticed. At home, with less people my dad turns to me and says “why don’t you help your mother?” One time he got angry and said “what do I even have daughters for?” in reference to cleaning up a table. I feel so privileged to even have food, to have plates, to have a table to eat off of. He should feel damn privileged to have someone serve him. I can’t sit there, it never lasts long. They will think I’m lazy. The men don’t move, “tome una otra beera porfa”. “Nada”. Pero soy perezosa si no ayuda a limpiar or whatever in some way. It’s this entitlement that they seem to be feeling. They aren’t lazy if they don’t help. They are entitled to stay seated. They are entitled to this space. They are entitled to stay there and I am not. It’s these sort of attitudes that can make me and other Latinas resentful towards men. It’s even worse behaviors that make us distrustful. Melissa said “there's just something that's in this culture that makes me feel like I can't trust -- I can't trust these people. It sucks, because I don't want to have to feel like I have to hide away, or have to be in a bubble, but how else will I be safe?” Emily spoke about her relationship with Latino men after talking a little of her mother and aunts dealings with an abusive father and brothers :“I feel that it is particularly bad, going to family events and functions, when all of the old dudes sitting at the table, drunk as hell -- they're just shamelessly staring at you, and thinking to themselves, and mumbling to themselves, and smoking and drinking. I can't disassociate these men from those abusers, because they're of the same -- for all I know, these guys who are still alive, are also abusers. You can't trust them, and I have -- I feel fearful -- not fearful of, have had very negative relationships with Hispanic men”

She goes on to say “I don't know who is the worst perpetrator, if it's Latino men who I feel more sexualized by, or white men who I feel more sexualized by, with this body.” I think white men have fetishized me more, but my experiences with Latino men have been shameless. In one conversation I had with a friend that was unrecorded they told about their interactions with Hispanic men. In one particular instance they were in a drug store and man walks up to them and tells them that they have nice legs. Their immediate response was “Thanks”. We spoke about this weird relationship with Hispanic men that we have. I too have been oddly submissive in my interactions with overtly sexualizing men. My friend said that these men sometimes remind them of their father so they’re just not sure what to say. I do not have a Hispanic father so I do not know what that is like. I think for me I’m just either sort of shocked that someone would say something so blunt to me no matter how many times it’s happened or I just sort of feel like I can’t do anything. I feel like as a person that is perceived as a Hispanic women I am seen as being emotional and more sexually available so perhaps this is why I have been approached in these ways. There are so many aspects to Latin femininity. Dani explained their perception of feminine gender performance in Columbia: I think the ideal and idea of being the pageant queen -- she was put in pageants, she did modeling. The idea of the quinceneara, you're the princess -- that whole thing has definitely been imposed. My mom is a very feminine person, so it wasn't like there was any problem with it, but it was definitely that sort of -- idea in the culture, that you have to be very feminine. There are a lot of expectations in the culture as a woman, not really including pageantry or quincenearas, but also as your role as a woman, which had been imposed on my mom, and had been imposed on my grandmother. The man doesn't have to do anything, and the woman takes care of everything. You have a lot of kids, do all the laundry, sometimes there's a maid involved -- at least with my grandparents there was a maid involved -- you had to cook and clean for everyone, you had to be responsible for everyone, while the man goes and works. My dad has been socialized like that, so he doesn't do any housework, and he scolds my mom. There's also the idea of being thin, as well, which my dad has tried to impose on my mom. If she's gained weight, he'll make comments about it, because she doesn't fit this ideal of beauty, which is very strongly imposed on Latino culture. You have to be skinny -- in Miami it was very common too. The stereotype that she's skinny, and she has a big butt, big boobs -- that sort of thing. Especially with surgery and stuff. I think the idea of the strong gender binary is very prevalent in the culture, and I was lucky to be able 38

to sort of escape, because of my parents. I would have been very uncomfortable if I had had a quinceneara. I think it's definitely -- it exists. It's very strong.” Dani pointed out so many different pieces to the puzzle that is being a Latina but all these pieces add up to an impossible standard. Chanelle put it this way: I feel like you have the two ends of the spectrum -- the very sexy Latina that's tall, long hair -- it's going back to, and even realizing, the history of Latin women -- they've always been exoticized and oversexualized. You have that end of the spectrum, and you have the other end of the spectrum, which is that all Latina women are constantly having babies, and are incredibly overweight because they're constantly having babies. I think for me -- my grandmother was always like, "You have to dress a certain way, you're a -- you have to identify as a lady, and you have to dress like a lady, and wear skirts, and wear dresses to church and parties." -- for me, I was never about that dress life, or never about that skirt life.” With this constant imposing and critiques on our presentation it is not a wonder I have been afraid of my body. Melissa spoke about her experience with her body: I identify as a woman, after many years of dealing with gender stuff, and just feeling -- for a long time, I didn't like my chest, because it brought me a lot of attention, and that was a very weird thing for me, especially as a child. "I'm a child -- why am I being sexualized?" So I kind of deferred from being a woman, because I was like, "Women get treated like this, and I don't want to be treated like that, so I don't want to be a woman." Then I realized, whether I identify as a woman or not, the way that I look in the world, and the way that people are going to read me, are going to make them treat me a certain way, so at this point "woman" feels pretty good to me. I'm pretty okay with it.” Not everyone comes to the same realizations. Even with these epiphanies of some modicum of acceptance comes problems that people have to deal with even if they have come to terms with a gender identity Melissa elaborated on her feelings about the other people treat her body: I feel like wearing a bra. Because for some reason I feel a little more safe if my nipples aren't showing, because somehow my nipples make me a target of violence, even though all people who are ever born have nipples. Regardless of -- whether for reproductive purposes or -- regardless, people have nipples. But my nipples, primarily, make me offensive, and make me a target…I also have to know I'm going to be a little more unsafe in these spaces than I will in the queer events -- that sucks, because I can't choose between being black, or being gay, or being Spanish, or being a woman, or -- I just kind of have to roll with the punches. I guess I'll put on my fucking

bra, and I'll dance to some hip hop -- even though, if I was going to a queer event, I didn't really have to think about putting on a bra.” The pressure for conforming to femininity is a part of Latina identity and can be alienating Oriana said “I wasn't that in to my image. That to me was very much what being a Spanish girl meant -- you had to be pretty all the time, and "be a girl", and I never felt that way.” Those who don’t have that “goldy-locks” right complexion to fit in with the Latina standard of beauty may have a hard time feeling Latina. My queerness makes me feel white but I feel very not white when I’m surrounded by white people. Then I feel very white when I’m surrounded by all Latino people. When I’m around Latino people and I’m not aware if anyone is queer or not, I feel kind of unsafe because my experiences with my family have taught me that the two cannot exist together. White people can make me feel the same way however, I don’t care as much. But Latinos I feel this need to belong, and to prove it and that might mean not acknowledging my queerness. Queer spaces seem so often dominated by white people, and while I might raise a subject that pertains to me and other Latinos it doesn’t get talked about for long after I bring it up because they lack the experience. It’s not that I don’t feel safe in these spaces it just feels like I am quiet perhaps even spoken over. Whiteness has slightly different standards of beauty. I’ve noticed in becoming active in my music scene on campus there is this pale waif standard. Emily gave a further explanation of the struggle her body goes through: …being in this specific American society, where we exist in this subculture of alternative, DIY music/art space, which is supposedly all-inclusive, I feel more pressure than ever to hold up to this ideal of American slender, Euro-centric type of beauty, which I mentioned before is physically at odds with myself. I attribute a lot of the difficulties I've had with my relationship with food to this cultural conflict that is occurring within myself…” Latin women are at once fiery and submissive, emotional and spicy, out of control and constantly needing to be controlled. We are compared to food, an apt comparison as we are constantly consumed.

Emily addresses standards of femininity in Latino cultures in her piece As Seen On (2013) http://vimeo.com/76575397 She writes: In As Seen On (2013), I explore themes of Latina television pageantry through assembling and remixing found footage. What began as an exercise in basic video editing soon evolved into a full fledged investigation of Latina beauty standards as compared with my own appearance. This video was my first such recognition of the duality of my own personal benchmark, being both hispana and white passing. I am consistently amazed by the challenges of defining my physical aesthetic through a cultural lens or explanation; seeking to understand my Latin-ness seems to have served as an outlet for trying to cope with feeling out of control of my bodily form.

An excerpt from the journal of Christie 43

Conclusion It is hard to quantify the experiences of Latinas. “there's no one Chicano language just as there is no one Chicano experience” (Anzaldúa 80), just as there is no one latina experience. Being Latina/@ is something that unites us but because of the homogenizing nature of the term it can serve to divide us as well. My understanding of Latin identity was a gendered one. I believed that a Latina was straight and looking for a man to tame her hot-blooded passions. I thought she had to speak Spanish. After speaking with so many friends and acquaintances about our experiences I realize the that so many identities can merge and create a human that can and will exist. I have felt othered, I have felt alienated, I have felt invalidated but I have also experienced an immense amount of economic privilege that a lot of other Latina/@’s don’t have. I hope to disperse this zine and I hope it can serve others in understanding themselves as making this zine has helped guide me in figuring out my identity. I’m still not sure how I identify or what boxes to check but I am confident that there people out there who will continue to have conversations with me about what being Latina means. I think in a way I have created a community of mostly queer Latina’s and Latin@’s which was a part of the reason I wanted to make this. I wanted to reach out and talk to people and know they had similar experiences to mine. I have found a little community and I think that’s what me and my friends were looking for.

Please feel free to contact me at Goodbyelandsp@gmail.com

Works Cited Anderson, Benedict R. O. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. Rev. and Extended ed. London: Verso, 1991. Print. Anzald煤a, Gloria. Borderlands: The New Mestiza = La Frontera. Fourth ed. San Francisco: Spinsters/Aunt Lute, 1987. Print. Holloway, Thomas H. A Companion to Latin American History. Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, 2011. Print. Segura-Wang, Maia, Henriette Ravent贸s, Michael Escamilla, and Ramiro Barrantes. "Assessment of Genetic Ancestry and Population Substructure in Costa Rica by Analysis of Individuals with a Familial History of Mental Disorder." Annals of Human Genetics (2010): 516-24. Www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov. Ann Hum Genet. Web. 22 Apr. 2015. <http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2956602/>. "SUNY Purchase College Portrait." SUNY Purchase College Portrait. Highcharts.com, 1 Jan. 2014. Web. 16 Apr. 2015. <http://www.collegeportraits.org/NY/Purchase/characteristics>.