San Antonio, Tejas
November 2015, Vol. 28 Issue 9
a publication of the Esperanza Peace & Justice Center
This 17th edition of La Voz de Esperanza with Literary Ofrendas and Calaveras
La Voz de Esperanza November 2015 vol. 28 Issue 9
Editor Gloria A. Ramírez Design Elizandro Carrington Editorial Assistance Elva Pérez Treviño
La Voz Mail Collective
Mario Carbajal, Veronica Cardona, Olga Crespín, Elisabeth Delgado, Sara DeTurk, Juan Diaz, Charlie Esperiqueta, Mary Esperiqueta, Georgina López, Sandra Marquez, Juan Martinez, Rachel Martínez Rose Mary (Maruka) Martínez, Ray McDonald , Angie Merla, Aimee Rivera, Anheli Rivera, Blanca Rivera, Mary A. Rodríguez, Anthony Saldivar
Esperanza Director Graciela I. Sánchez
Esperanza Staff
Imelda Arismendez, Elizandro Carrington, Elisa Pérez, Gianna Rendón, René Saenz, Susana Segura, Amelia Valdez
Interns
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9•
Christina Alcantar, Paz García, Alexuss Green, Carina Hiscock, Lehua Pelayo
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is dedicated to all victims of police brutality—mostly poor and people of color killed or brutalized while being arrested or pursued. Although media has portrayed this as a problem endured by the black community, the Chicano (Latino) community [as well as others] has endured this through the years. I distinctly remember a little boy being shot to death in Austin for stealing a loaf of bread. And, in Dallas on July 24, 1973 twelve year old Santos Rodríguez was killed by a white police officer who tried to scare him and his brother into confessing by putting a gun to his head playing Russian roulette. The first shot was a click, but the second killed Santos who was handcuffed inside the police car. The officers had accused the boys of stealing $8 from a vending machine at a gas station. It was later proven that the prints at the robbery did not match either Santos or his brother’s prints. Four days after he died, Chicano activists put together a protest march to Dallas’ old city hall. Thousands of Mexicanos and African Americans filled the streets, demanding justice. The march began peacefully but turned violent. A police motorcycle was even set on fire. Five officers were injured, and more than 30 people arrested. Officer Darrell Cain was eventually convicted of murder and sentenced to only 5 years and he was released after only two and a half years! So, what else is new? Ravi Zupa’s artwork on the front cover is titled, “Now tell me—’Who protects me from you?’” a refrain from rapper, J Dilla’s song, Fuck the Police that chastises corrupt policemen. Zupa made the print after Freddie Gray’s murder by police and the ensuing riots in Baltimore. The murders by police had left him very sad because he had experienced the loss of two family members to “complicated and troubling violence.” At the bottom of the print, Zupa cites, “A couple of very good, old friends”: José Guadalupe Posada, artist and originator of Calaveras that satirized political injustices in Mexico in the early 1900s that led to the Mexican Revolution of 1910; and J Dilla, who died from a blood disease. They are discussing “an extremely old problem.” At the bottom J Dilla comments, “Believe us” while Posada says, “This isn’t new.” Ravi gave $25 from the sale of each print to the Fund for Rebuilding Baltimore. See his website at: ravizupa.com Once again, la buena gente de San Antonio and beyond have come together to put out another issue of La Voz in observance of El Dia de los Muertos. Muchisimas gracias! —Gloria A Ramírez, editora
Conjunto de Nepantleras
-Esperanza Board of DirectorsBrenda Davis, Rachel Jennings, Amy Kastely, Jan Olsen, Kamala Platt, Ana Lucía Ramírez, Gloria A. Ramírez, Rudy Rosales, Tiffany Ross, Lilliana Saldaña, Nadine Saliba, Graciela I. Sánchez, Lillian Stevens • We advocate for a wide variety of social, economic & environmental justice issues. • Opinions expressed in La Voz are not necessarily those of the Esperanza Center.
La Voz de Esperanza
is a publication of Esperanza Peace & Justice Center
Roger S. Solis passed away recently. A gentle and caring man, he loved the arts and working with plants. I first met Roger at Lisa’s Restaurant on W. Commerce where I breakfasted daily before teaching. Years later, I would see him on Guenther St. and at Madhatter’s for weekend breakfasts. He always spoke lovingly of his daughter and son. My best memory of him was when we tore up the dance floor at the International Accordion Festival at La Villita. Best dancer ever! Condolences to his familia and friends. QEPD
November 2015 La Voz de Esperanza Contributors
922 San Pedro, San Antonio, TX 78212
CALAVERISTAS: Francisco Alarcón, Janie Cepeda, Araceli Herrera, Marcos Iñiguez, Rachel Jennings, Josie Méndez-Negrete, Gianna Rendón, Jessica Roca, Rita Urquijo-Ruiz, Enrique Sánchez, Carmen Tafolla
210.228.0201 • fax 1.877.327.5902 www.esperanzacenter.org
LITERARY OFRENDAS: Nancy De La Cerda, Gabriel Fernández, Ashley G., Rosalina García, Sally Gaytán-Baker, Lois Olivia Heger, Alice Jennings, Monica Lanier, Paul Piñeda, Norma L. Rodríguez, Tiffany Ross, Lillian Stevens
Inquiries/Articles can be sent to:
ARTISTS: Teri Borrego, Catalina Delgado-Trunk, lacalacapress.com, Brandon Maldonado, José Guadalupe Posada, José Pulido, Mary Agnes Rodríguez, Ravi Zupa
lavoz@esperanzacenter.org Articles due by the 8th of each month Policy Statements
* We ask that articles be visionary, progressive, instructive & thoughtful. Submissions must be literate & critical; not sexist, racist, homophobic, violent, or oppressive & may be edited for length. * All letters in response to Esperanza activities or articles in La Voz will be considered for publication. Letters with intent to slander individuals or groups will not be published. Esperanza Peace & Justice Center is funded in part by the NEA, TCA, theFund, CoYoTe PhoeNix Fund, AKR Fdn, Peggy Meyerhoff Pearlstone Fdn, the DOTE Fdn, Horizon Fdn, y nuestra buena gente.
ATTENTION VOZ READERS: If you have a mailing address correction please send it to lavoz@ esperanzacenter.org. If you want to be removed from the La Voz mailing list, for whatever reason, please let us know. La Voz is provided as a courtesy to people on the mailing list of the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center. The subscription rate is $35 per year ($100 for institutions). The cost of producing and mailing La Voz has substantially increased and we need your help to keep it afloat. To help, send in your subscriptions, sign up as a monthly donor, or send in a donation to the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center. Thank you. -GAR VOZ VISION STATEMENT: La Voz de Esperanza speaks for many individual, progressive voices who are gente-based, multi-visioned and milagro-bound. We are diverse survivors of materialism, racism, misogyny, homophobia, classism, violence, earth-damage, speciesism and cultural and political oppression. We are recapturing the powers of alliance, activism and healthy conflict in order to achieve interdependent economic/ spiritual healing and fuerza. La Voz is a resource for peace, justice, and human rights, providing a forum for criticism, information, education, humor and other creative works. La Voz provokes bold actions in response to local and global problems, with the knowledge that the many risks we take for the earth, our body, and the dignity of all people will result in profound change for the seven generations to come.
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15 os l Muer e d a t i o D s Artwork: Catalina Delgado-Trunk
Today is not a day of...
Hoy no es un dia de...
Parading giant skeletal puppets, Or Of something sinister,
Desfilar títeres de esqueletos gigantes, O De algo siniestro,
Today is a day of understanding, Death as a part of life, A day of remembrance, Taking the time to honor, Our loved ones that have passed away, It’s time to clean the cemetery, Decorate the floors with Flowers, candles, and sweets,
Skip the parade, Face painting, Instead: Make an offering, A fresh bouquet, Talk to your loved one, And Talk of your cherished one, As if they never left, Day of the dead, Is suppose to be the time, When our loved ones return, Did they ever really leave us? They are everywhere, they are the entities that surround us. —Ashley G.
What did you do when she died? Nothing, really. She always said, “death is just the next step to living,” like a mantra. Nothing, really. We had had these conversations all my life like oral instructions, “do not open Until I’m gone” Nothing, really. How does one cry Or what does one cry about when all she said was, “death is just the next step to living.” She never told me she’d always be by our side. or maybe I just wasn’t reading between the lines when she said, “death is just another step to living”. —Paul Piñeda
Comparsa in Oaxaca, MX On the cobbled streets in masks, we sip mezcal & dance. Look! The children cry from behind the bars of the school yard. We stop, grin and dance some more. —Alice-Catherine Jennings
Hoy es un dia para comprender, que la muerte como parte de la vida, es un día para recordar, Tomar el tiempo para honrar, Nuestros seres queridos que han fallecido, Es hora de limpiar el cementerio, Decorar los pisos con Flores, velas y dulces, Altares hechos en casa, los adornan con: Fotos, comida y muñecos, Iluminando el camino con velas, Así las almas encuentran el camino a su casa, Omita el desfile, Pintura de la cara, En su lugar: Haz una ofrenda, Un ramo de flores recién cortadas, Hable con su ser querido, y Hable de su ser querido, Como si nunca se hubiesen ido, Dia de los Muertos, Se supone que debe ser el tiempo, Cuando nuestros seres queridos regresan, ¿Alguna vez realmente nos dejaron? Están por todas partes, que son las entidades que nos envuelven. —Ashley G.
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9
Homemade altars, Adorn them with Photos, food, and dolls, Lighting the way with candles, So the souls find their way home,
What did you do when she died?
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Literary Ofrenda
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9•
Mrs. Hilda Arevalos, or as we De La Zerda kids call her, Mrs. A.
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Mrs. A. was a true Renaissance woman, multi-talented and youthful in spirit. She had joie de vivre and a zest for life that captivated everyone. She had a natural talent for interior decorating and a flair for fashion. Her gardening was to be envied and her cooking was divine. She was a skilled guitar player and enjoyed dancing. She could have been a professional artist, musician or painter. Instead she chose to become the loving wife of her sweetheart, Henry, whom she adored. “I loved that man so much, I really loved that man,” she would say wistfully for many years after his untimely death. She was a devoted mother to Mona, Enrique and Laura, as well as a loving grandmother to her grandchildren, great grandchildren and a great-great granddaughter, in whom she delighted. And she loved her dogs, Silk and Sissy. She had many friends and might as well have adopted the De La Zerda kids, we were underfoot so much. She is a mom in our hearts. She made a beautiful, Christian home for her children taking them to voice and dance classes at the Mexican Cultural Institute, to choir at Laurel Heights Methodist Church and to events at “Momo” Florinda’s church, La Trinidad United Methodist. Mrs. A. enjoyed taking her children and later her grandchildren to the beach, fishing, to parties and concerts, often with friends in tow. She had a tremendous knack for putting together a unique look, somewhere between bohemian and high fashion. She wore berets, scarves, pretty belts, animal print sweaters, sunglasses and unusual jewelry and combined them effortlessly to create an onlyHilda-could’ve-thought-of-that look. The last time I spoke with Mrs. A. at a recent luncheon, we spoke only of the here and now. Suddenly, she raised a foot up onto her chair and said, “Look at my shoes.” I admired her chic tennis shoes. She said, “They’re something ...they’re, uh”, she hesitated. I said, “They’re Coach sneakers, Mrs. A. They’re very nice.” She shrugged. “Jessica got them for me.” I think Mrs. A. loved fashion regardless of brand names. Mrs. A also had chutzpah; she was a highly intelligent woman with a quick, often provocative, wit. I remember telling her once when Mona, Olivia and I were in high school that we’d sort of “crashed” a party and were asked to leave. It was common for kids to crash parties then, so it really stung to be “kicked out”. I thought the hostess was just jealous. To that Mrs. A. replied, “You should have told her ‘I’ve been thrown
out of better places!’” I still chuckle when I think about that. She soothed my hurt pride and replaced it with righteous indignation. Mrs. A. was the cool mom. She didn’t just take us places. She joined in the fun. She’d talk and joke with our friends and enjoyed poking fun at some of our silly boyfriends more than we did. Never afraid to speak her mind, she became a strong advocate for justice in her community. She even joined in protests at City Hall, especially defending the rights of immigrants. She was very proud of her Mexican heritage and would often say, even recently at Ali’s graduation luncheon, “I never say I’m Hispanic or I’m a Latina. I always say I’m Mexican... Soy me-ji-ca-na...” Needless to say, she always held her chin high when she spoke those words. After her children were grown, she gave much of her time serving lunch and performing guitar recitals at the Commander’s House senior center. She provided food for anyone she saw in need and she supported the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center and the artists of La Casita de MujerArtes. People younger than herself loved her company and she had many admirers, but her heart and soul belonged to her sweetheart, Henry, whom she has joined in the place Our Lord has provided for them in Heaven. On behalf of the Arevalos family I want to thank Mrs. A’s provider, Eusebia (Chata) Gomez who tended to her, took her places, ran errands and went beyond the call of duty for the last three years. Chata was with Mrs. A. at the time of her passing, as was my sister Olivia, who loves “Hildie” as her own mother. We are praising the Lord for Chata’s devotion to Mrs. A. God bless you for your loyalty and dedication, Chata. On behalf of the De La Zerda family, I’d like to say: We are grateful to God for bringing “Momo” Florinda , the Romos and the Arevalos families into our lives since our childhoods on Mistletoe and Woodlawn Avenues, when we dug holes under a backyard fence and became lifelong friends. We have had Henry and Hilda as second parents and Mona, Laura and Enrique as another set of siblings. We thank Mrs. A. for countless fond memories throughout the years. She taught us to be proud and to speak out. She provided us with a great role model of a true Renaissance woman. She did it all. And she had a blast doing it! You will be missed Mrs. A. We love you forever.
as para nuestros difuntos Sitting in a Room with My Dying Grandmother
Come Holy Spirits, Come
Sapphire for Granny She taught me the language She tried and laughed at my accent Taught me the culture So when I built an ofrenda for Granny I remembered and carefully, lovingly placed Pan de muerto y calaveras around her picture The only picture of Granny And a beautiful Bottle of Sapphire Gin How she laughed when she saw that Did your abuela love gin? No, I doubt she ever tasted fancy spirits But she would have loved that blue bottle So pretty with the marigolds We sipped the gin and remembered Granny’s sun leathered face and Gentle bony hands, always busy Now she’s gone, my sweet friend And my soul aches As I remember and carefully Place marigolds y pan de muerto around Her picture, the only good picture And calaveras y a beautiful Bottle of Sapphire Gin — Lois Olivia Heger
Come Holy Spirits, Come Come, ye family of saints, come. Come to this thin place, for this is the place. Come at this time, for this is the time. We meet you here so one of us can stay and go across with you Come holy spirits, come Come, ye family of saints, come. for we have added another saint. — Pablo Piñeda
Shades of Brown Café con leche to start the day Xocolatl divine drink of Aztecas Barbacoa tacos with Big Red Bohemia cerveza fría to quench the thirst. Burnt image of Jesus on tía Lola’s tortilla Los abuelos portrait in sepia mother’s gentle hands braiding my hair. Emma her quest for justicia Willie su voto es su voz Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe morena like me. Pecan stained fingers calloused and blistered dirt on migrant worker knees mestizo eyes full of yearning Rio Grande murky river of hope and dreams. —Sally Gaytán-Baker
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9
She fought the good fight, the enduring one that suffers, the persistent one that rejoices. Justina Fernández She kept the faith, September 26, 1918 October 5, 2015 a faith hungrily soaked up in the inequalities of a 1920s South Texas, Mexicana, existence. Her “strange, eventful history” told her to be grateful for the little things and to pray for the great ones. Me, her grandson, not knowing the real totalities of the trials that subdued, like my father or my aunt did, a matured faith from three children who died before her, and a husband who tested her in more ways than she bargained for. So what do I take from her life? I take it all— the furious flaws, the stifling struggles, the transcendental triumphs, those last tender moments when she held her daughter’s hand and her last breaths, those stories of her life, the winds of her wonders, became the stuff of a family’s myths and legends. — Gabriel Fernández
5 Artwork: Ravi Zupa
Literary Ofrendas-2015
Por aquel entonces… by Norma L. Rodriguez
Antonio Langoria
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9•
Credit: refusingtoforget.org/the-project/
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The prematurely silenced voices of Jesús Bazán and his son-ion-law Antonio Longoria speak volumes to their descendents. The ranch cemetery where they are buried is, indeed, tierra santa. In the background one hears the mournful call of the dove and the agonizing lament of the old windmill as its weathered broken blades painstakingly turn and screech with the wind. For me these sounds of the isolated borderlands, albeit beautiful, are also painful, poignant and perpetual reminders of an ill-fated autumn day in 1915 when the two innocent men were murdered by Texas Rangers on the Bazán ranch. The questionable circumstances of the murders and the forcibly delayed burials without caskets will forever haunt me, but I find comfort thinking about the lives of Jesús and Antonio before the murders. Looking out across the pastures of tierra colorada (sandy red loam), I envision the two ranchers working the land and tending to their livestock and crops. They are remembered for being active in community politics and working positively for the rights and betterment of their families and ranch community. I wonder, “What were they really like? What were their long-term hopes and dreams for themselves, their families and their community? What greater things might they have accomplished had their human rights not been denied? Upon viewing the Longoria homestead made of sillar (lime and clay) by Antonio’s hands in 1900 and now lovingly restored, I conjure up idyllic images of Antonio with his wife Antonia and their children sitting outdoors on wooden benches under the anaqua
on cool summer evenings or around the fireplace in winter. The children are seated around Antonio who holds the baby in his arms, the baby who never knew his father but would grow up and become my loving father. In my visual image Antonio is reading to his children or telling them family stories, the same stories I later heard from Antonia when I was a child. Sunrise and sunset at the ranch give one pause to bask in God’s beauty. At dawn the purple-tinted dark gray sky slowly changes to shaded blues. Slowly the clouds take on a lavender-pink hue when a sliver of orange appears on the horizon as the sun sluggishly takes a peek, embellishing the clouds with golden contours before it bursts forth onto a new day. In the evening the sky changes from blue to pink and then to golden amber as the sun gradually blends into the horizon and darkness ensues. I like to think that Jesús and Antonio enjoyed the beauty of sunrise and sunset as much as I do. Butterflies dart about among the chaparral, cenizo and the tombstones. Observing the delicate beauty of the butterflies, I imagine that I hear the innocent, joyous laughter of children at play through the generations as the mariposas alight on their heads and outstretched fingertips with the finesse of a father’s and a grandfather’s loving touch. Las mariposas, symbols of resurrection and freedom give one hope for a better world: one free of injustice, violence and inequality. Because there
was no justice for Jesús and Antonio, there will always be an open wound in my heart, but I do find some solace here en el rancho de las mariposas y la tierra santa.
…y un siglo después Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr’s epigram “the more things change, the more they stay the same” describes the Bazan-Longoria ranches today. Portions of the ranches have been divided through inheritance and they are still owned by descendents of Jesús and Antonio although they are no longer working ranches. Cattle graze on leasedout pastures but gone are the voices and sounds of everyday activity and atmosphere of a thriving multi-generation ranch community of a century ago. Today the ranches are a destination for upkeep, family gatherings and hunting. Witnesses to history, they are a welcome respite from the noise and fervor of the city. The Longoria homestead and escuelita are restored. The anacua, known as the family tree, still thrives majestically in front of the homestead. The dilapidated chapel that stands on land donated to the church in the 1920’s by the Bazan family may soon be rebuilt through the efforts of a local priest, family and community members and friends with ties to the community. The ranch road where the men were murdered is now a busy farm-to-market shortcut for heavy freight traffic between the Rio Grande Valley and Laredo. During most of the day the noise is deafening and one feels the heat and vibration of the big rigs as they whoosh by just a few feet from the graves, but early in the morning and late in the Continued on p. 11
Calaveras 2015 Artwork: Brandon Maldonado
Serenata Mexicana Un sábado de septiembre Esperanza celebró las canciones de un gran hombre que a todo el mundo encantó
Azul y grandes músicos a todos nos deleitaron con sus corridos clásicos a cantar nos invitaron
El lugar era una fiesta José Alfredo y sus rancheras y el público celebraba a celebrar ayudaron con sus almas tan expuestas aunque dulce o lastimeras su nostalgia se curaba sus canciones agradaron Nostalgia por nuestra tierra “Paloma querida” y “Ella” el harpa nos evocaba provocaron gran clamor y aquella triste guitarra Lucha Villa, otra estrella, a todos nos desgarraba lo recordó con amor
El Ricachón
Ya se nos va Don Arturo Academia está de luto Ya se jubila Madrid— Dudoso, Tomás declama “Solo ver para creer.”
Academia está de luto Lengua plata perdieron Al que con bolígrafo de oro Declarará su panteón. —Josie Méndez-Negrete
“¡Vámonos haciendo menos, esta fiesta terminó, me los llevo a mis terrenos y allí solo canto yo!” —Rita E. Urquijo-Ruiz
Transparencia Rara palabra en estos tiempos modernos Decir verdades y la franqueza son antiguos Los rodeos que usan los políticos son Casi obras de arte ¿A quien creerle? La más cierta es “La Catrina,” Aparte de ser la Muerte, Casi-casi es transparente —Enrique Sánchez
Al Gastador, Rick Perry
“Academia está de luto,” Le dijo calaca al Diablo; “No hay volado para este Un catrín necesitamos.” No lo clames pata de gallo Buitres malvados aléjense A Arturo le queda mucho Pa’ quedarse sepultado.
“¡Qué rancheras ni qué nada!” exclama Doña Tilica celosa y agusanada su ira se multiplica
Carly Fiorina Carly Fiorina tells lies about PP, her own career. Though her poll numbers seem to rise, the cost of untruths becomes clear. Down, down in the polls she will go. How far down the Devil knows! —Rachel Jennings
A Perry se le acabo la feria Andaba como un loco, como fiera Viajo por donde quiera Por ser símbolo de su partido Hasta que se topo con “La mera-mera” Pues le puso un alto a su corrida Fue como la yerba mala Difícil de arrancar ¡Que fin! —Enrique Sánchez
Donald Trump His hair inflated by a pump, Donald Trump is out on the stump. He insults women, immigrants, Veterans, Muslims, Mexicans. Part carnival barker, part grump, He is an air-filled mass, a lump.
He checks into the Trump Hotel. The escalator goes to Hell. With the bellhop he does the bump. They descend to the lowest floor. To Hell the bellhop shows the door. To point the way, he kicks his rump. —Rachel Jennings
Artwork: Brandon Maldonado
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9
Repleta de regocijo Antonia planea viajar Mientras Dudley le recuerda “No es tan fácil navegar.”
Este hombre y los de su clase hay muchos. Además de ser presumidos llaman la atención. ¿A quien atenerse? ¿ Quien puede con ellos? ¡Calacas es la solución, si señor! —Enrique Sánchez
Pero era de esperarse que en festivas ocasiones Calaca logra alterarse y muestra sus agresiones
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Calaveras de La Voz de Esperanza 2015
Art
wo
rk:
Ter i
La Chancla de la Catrina Bo
rre
go
Estaba yo sentada sufriendo las cuentas por pagar. Cuando miro y ahí estaba, La Catrina con garboso andar. Quedo yo petrificada y admirada de su elegante vestir. Me lleva la chingada!!! Y ni a misa pude ir.
Para mi sorpresa ella de largo pasa y al alejarse miro que una chancla perdió. Pero como! Tan distinguida dama un humilde huarache calza.
Al buscarla me quedo pasmada, la Flaca ya no estaba ahí. Yo con la chancla en mano un escrito encuentro ahí: “Esta es la Flying Chancla, la que en su niñez le formó Usted nadie es pa’ juzgar, honre y agradezca a quien la vida le dio.” “En la tumba de nada sirve, agache la cabeza y humilde a sus padres pida su bendición. Igual y a usted me lo llevo primero, eso solo lo decido yo.” —J Rocca
Si le aviso igual y me carga y si no... mal también me va a ir. Flaming Skull by Don Alfonso Castillo, QEPD
La tradicióon ¡QuEé vivan Queer Brown Voices!
La tradición nos impulsa a honrar a la Catrina ¿Porque no? Uno muere de Viejo o termina en una esquina nadie se va de este mundo sin pagar las que debe “Cruz diablo” una pelicula Mexicana Antigua Este titulo le queda bien a un conocido Senador
Barro y lienzo las unieron En el museo se citaron Para hacer honor al árbol La Verónica y la Kathy Un dos de octubre en el centro Esta exhibición de hembras Con su barro y sus pinceles Una disque pinta lienzos Otra crea arte con el barro Evolución nos enseña La Verónica de su arte Historias de antepasados Sus legados nos presenta Antigüedades de barro Se muestran por estos lares Mientras que la Kathy enseña Árboles imaginarios Una reclama su historia Mientras otra se le inventa En lienzos de dos dimensiones Sus historias ella cuenta Las calacas desde Itzócan Dejar gritar sus quejidos Sabiéndose desposados De sus trabajos queridos Tradiciones e innovaciones Según ellas nos lo cuentan Una exponiendo su arte Mientras otra se acomoda
Un día de muertos se encontraba la calaca resbalosa buscando disque a los “queer y brown.” Pues por allí, decía el hombre blanco, que ya pronto la huesuda por ellos venia. Pero llegaron arrasando Leti, Uriel y Salvador con el nuevo libro, “Queer Brown Voices” que despertó a todo mundo de todos colores y todos sabores diciendo a grito abierto, “Aqui estamos y no nos vamos.”
Ya las calaveras lloran Y hacen muchas curaciones Mandando sus maldiciones A los que se apropian de su arte —Josie Méndez Negrete
Por gastar a manos llenas y tambien por hablador Murio Perry gobernante re-elejido con mucho amor Sus camaradas le abrian las puertas con dinero Tánto que soño en ser Presidente El mero-mero se divorció de la unión y esa fue su desventura Quien se lo mando a tal ambiciosa criatura —Enrique Sánchez
El Gran Payaso No tocaba la trompeta, mucho menos el trombón. Pero sí tenía una lengua que atraia un montón. Tenía mucha plata y con ella ¡Que vacilón! Decidio ser presidente y lo hizo de un jalón. Vino a Tejas quesque a poner un muro. Se colaba mucha gente, el tenía gran apuro. Calacas entró en sus planes y le quitó lo rudo. — Enrique Sánchez
—A la liga de historia llegaran nuestras voces y viviremos por siempre!” Y al oir el tremendo reventón y las voces de todo “queer y brown” la calaca se hundio y pues a esperar para nunca porque la muerte no es para nosotros! Los Queer Brown Voices siguimos vivitos y coleando! —Janie Cepeda
Campus Carry
Bad idea—Campus Carry, Which guns with learning will marry On the sad anniversary Of the shootings in the Tower. We fight back, reclaim our power. From now on, we say #CocksNotGlocks. The NRA dildos do mock. Wayne LaPierre and his mad flock From Hell will check the Tower clock. —Rachel Jennings
ARTURO MADRID Y SU JÚBILO Se jubila Don Arturo de la educación más alta nos parece prematuro y nos hará tanta falta
Ha sido galardonado se le admira y le respeta aquí, allá, en todos lados su trabajo es de profeta
Pero son cincuenta años de enseñanza y gran servicio de componer unos daños y de retar los prejuicios
Hasta en D.C. lo premió Bill Clinton, el Presidente Washington se redimió, allí nada es accidente
Como profe y activista tiene ilustre trayectoria es anti-imperialista y su vida ya es historia
Nuevo México es su cuna Donde aprendió varias mañas y no cabe duda alguna que son grandes sus hazañas
“Interloper,” buen hereje algunos le tienen miedo otros temen qué empareje pero a él le importa un bledo Unos le tienen envidia por su distinción y honores a Madrid no le fastidia pelear con calumniadores Y así seguirá luchando aunque esté muy jubilado con el racismo acechando siempre está despabilado
¿Y qué dirá doña Antonia? Pues contenta, me imagino arreglando ceremonia prepara vino y camino Pero no pa’ descansar sino pa’ seguir en friega se les ha de compensar que su fuerza no asosiega “—Hora verás ‘R2D2’ (dijo la muerte su apodo) muy lejos y a lo oscurito te llevo y te reacomodo” Artwork: José Pulido
“—N’ombre Calaca, no friegues voy en camino pa’ España no me pidas que me entregue mejor ven por mí, mañana.” Con un inmenso cariño, —Rita E. Urquijo-Ruiz
Calaveras 2015 Quince, mas o menos Dedico estos versos a toda la Buena gente A todos los que han compartido en el pasado y también el presente Aquí en San Antonio, en el estado de Tejas y tambien en la nación Hay un hueso muy sabroso que mucha gente adinerada piensan que es sabrozón Hay muchos (más de quince) que quieren ser presidente del país Y como cerdos tienen mucho maíz Se le acabó la punteria a uno que quízo mucho y abarcó poco La huesuda lo escogio y se lo llevó Porque valió muy poco (¡loco!) Otro sigue en pie y quiere probar ese hueso sabrozón El representa al estado y tiene mucha provisión Existe el peor de los tres Hombre bien hechido con una lengua sin parar Excelente candidato y listo para la fosa —Enrique Sánchez
100 Mujeres, 100 Millas
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La huesuda volaba por los aires, A las peregrinas escuchó... —¡Entre tus manos, esta mi vida, señor! 100 mujeres caminaban, Un corazón, muchos paises Entonando cantos, rezos—reian, lloraban
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Eran 100 mujeres, caminando 100 millas De Baltimore a Washington por amor Por veredas, calles, bosques, Dejaban su dolor La chancluda les puso atención Calladita, se acercó... Pasos firmes caminando a su lado Oyendo las historias, dientudita sonrió, —Cuantos de estas me llevo yo? Las peregrinas van a ver al papa y Obama Aunque aún cantaba, las vio cansadas, Cuentan chistes, bailan y una a otra se apoyan Es muy fuerte su amor—preregrinas poderosos A toditas me las llevaré al gran pozo con todo y sus tenis sudados, empolvados Pa’l panteón las arrastró ... y desde alla siguen caminando, gritando ¡A la derecha, bicicletas! —Araceli Herrera
Estupideces del Trump Apodos ya no le faltan al “Idiota” o el “Pendejo” El “Trompudo” es de su porte Y aunque “Culero” no uso, estoy de acuerdo con ella— Trump tiene un corazón postizo como su peluca güera. Un racista empedernido Que cree sabérselas todas Hasta el Diablo lo rechaza y La Muerte ni quiere verlo. Estancado en el pasado En su nostalgía Americana A los blanquitos promete empezar repatriaciones Por ser Mexicanos—para el, no valemos nada Nos ataca de ser narcos, violadores y rateros Y con un muro promete asegurar las fronteras En sus insultos insólitos asegura deportarnos. El falta de moral Trump—no les dices sus verdades Sus fortunas las ha creado de las miseria de otros. Con múltiples bancarrotas, Trompudo sigue explotando Al que por necesidad nomás sigue trabajando. De decrépitos nos acusa para hacerse popular Ya sus imperiosas posturas no me hacen ni llorar Honestos y trabajadores, nosotros los Mexicanos Nos unimos en la fuerza y al infierno lo mandamos. —Josie Méndez-Negrete
Calavera a Donald Trump Andaba la calaca en busca de un buen partido, pues le aseguraban los mexicanos y también todo latino, de alguien que andaba por alla como decía, QEPD, mi Mami —”hablando nadamas porque tiene boca”. Era un tal Donald “Duck” o Trump, o algo así. Ese tipo andaba diciendo cosas malvadas de todo buen mexicano. Y eso que bien le servía en sus hoteles y en sus negocios. Pero como todo hombre blanco cabrón hociqueaba nadamas por que podía. Pero por suerte la huesuda en su Taj Majal lo encontró y de allí se lo llevó a conocer a su santo y patrón... nada mas y nada menos que al meritito Pelón. —Janie Cepeda
Ya llegó y ya está aquí la muerte siriqui-siaca pegada con chicle y caca Este año vino especialmente a llevarse a dos: un gastador y un hablador El gastador porque malgasta a manos llenas el dinero de la gente El otro porque no cesa de hablar y tambien miente —Enrique Sánchez
Ode to Yanaguanathe land of sacred waters
Por Aquel Entonces continued from p. 6 afternoon when the traffic stops there is a certain serenity that permeates the campo santo. The tradition of taking flowers to the cemetery on el dia de los muertos has been handed down from one generation to the next for centuries. This year the centennial anniversary of the murders is no exception. Family members of Jesús and Antonio will travel long distances to visit and place flowers on their graves and at the graves of other family members in a larger cemetery nearby. No se olvidan. Regarding how descendents feel about the violence that resulted in the deaths of Jesús, Antonio and thousands of other innocent victims, little has changed in one hundred years. Emotionally we carry the burden of inherited loss in the silence of our hearts just like previous generations did. The history of the murders is passed down from one generation to the next through the oral and written tradition.
-by Gianna Rendon
They will use that body of water up like it is expendable until it too is sucked dry and dies slowly. And together you will both cry out to us to stop before it is too late. To change our ways. To realize that you are sacred, that you are not infinite, that you are a gift to your people and not meant to line wealthy men’s pockets. By the time we come to our senses you will be gone and the only memory we will have left of you is your blood, your sacred water pumping through our veins and in the end those will also run dry.
¡AGUAS! La tuberia es muy larga Por ella correra agua quien sabe donde California y quien sabe cuantas más nos venden el agua embotellada Todo mundo bebe ese liquido salvavidas Hay mucho pero mucho interes en el agua ¿Porque morir de sed habiendo tanta agua? —Enrique Sánchez
With regard to the lack of public knowledge and awareness of this important part of history, there have been some changes in the last in the last twenty-some years. Family members of the victims and historians have written and published articles, essays, poetry and books, conducted interviews of witnesses and survivors’ accounts, produced a documentary and created websites to bring this hidden part of United States and Texas history out of the shadows. Currently a group of scholars is collaborating their research, families’ accounts, historical data and artifacts with a museum for a 2016 exhibition that will comemmorate the centennial of this period of history and its ramifications. Note: This literary ofrenda is dedicated posthumously to my great-grandfather Jesús Bazán (1848-1915) and my grandfather Antonio Longoria (1866-1915), ranchers and pioneers of the borderlands on the 100th anniversary of their murders.
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Yanaguana, the land that we now call San Antonio Yanaguana- the bod ies of indigenous people whose blood and sweat and tears run through the San Antonio River and Edward’s aquifer Yanaguana- the refreshing water of life that runs through all of us and connects us as one people. Yanaguana- You are on your death bed and I write this so you know before it is too late how important you are to us. We are not surprised. Your death has been years in the making. Yanaguana- they have built on top of your Edward’s Aquifer Recharge Zone all in the name of profit, slowly suffocating and polluting you. Yanaguana- they have poisoned you again and again with fluoride and large corporations like the Calamut refinery have gotten away with dumping toxic chemicals into you and your people. Yanaguana- they have appropriated your name and used you as a catchy saying to attract tourists. Yanaguana- this past summer they tried to bottle you but your spirit was too great and you still had fight in you. Now Mother, they are planning to murder you. The City Council and SAWS wants to build a pipeline over your sacred lands and rob another land of their mother water in order to fuel their greed. The pipeline will slowly suffocate you until you are no longer deemed necessary. They will bottle your sister’s body and sell it for a profit.
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Literary Ofrendas-2015 An Ofrenda Haiku for
Grace Lee Boggs
Grace Lee Boggs (1915-2015)
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Grace Lee Boggs was a philosopher, author, social activist, and feminist. She was born in Providence, Rhode Island, the daughter of Chinese immigrants. Beloved Detroit She grew up in Jackson Heights, Queens, NY. As a result of joining tenants In Michigan time, protesting rat infestation in Detroit Summers last all year, her neighborhood, Grace set Even when snow falls. out on the path as an activist for more than 70 years. Her Rich garden planting, activism was in many human Claiming vacant lots for food, rights movements, including Feeding hungry minds. civil rights, the Black Power movement, labor, Lots, transforming time, environmental justice, and the Fertilizing ideas, feminist movement. Harvesting lost lives. Ms Boggs and her husband, James Boggs (an Murals document. auto worker and activist), Art, reclaiming public space. founded Detroit Summer, Revolutions make artists! a multicultural, intergenerational program in 1992. Renovating home, The program is noted for its leadership training, creativity and collective actions Grace defined revolution which have taken many forms, including reclaiming vacant city lots and turning In Detroit passions. them into community gardens, painting neighborhood murals, restoring houses, and marching through neighborhoods calling out drug dealers and asking them to We must do the same: leave--all in the spirit of re-building Detroit. “We are the leaders [that] we Ms. Boggs wrote the last book of five, The Next American Revolution: Have been waiting for.” * Sustainable Activism for the Twenty-First Century (2012), at the age of 95. She is —Lillian Stevens also the subject of the documentary, American Revolutionary: The Evolution of *From Poem for South African Women by June Jordan Grace Lee Boggs.She turned 100 in June 2015; she died on October 5, 2015.
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Sandra Bland - Make Me Understand My heart has been heavy these last months because each time I turn on the TV, another black person is murdered at the hands of police. When I heard about the death of Sandra Bland in Prairie View—close to my home in Houston— I became personally involved in the rallies and vigils in honor of her. I can’t find the words to express how I feel, so I found a poem (excerpted) that I hope will help you to understand my heartache. —Tiffany Ross
I don’t care what the media say They get paid to kill hope everyday It paints a portrait of lies Full of fuzzed out, fake alibis Disregarding the people’s questions Of how and why ... In a land of the free Where justice is suppose to bring solace Instead it engages in malicious violence Perpetrated by some paid to protect And you wonder why it’s a lack of respect... Make me understand, how Sandra Bland died for a simple violation That had no relation To being locked up And thrown in a cell What the hell
Then you expect for me to believe She died from suicide? I rebuke that notation In big flourescent quotations Put ‘Black Lives Matter’ in heavy rotation With each Rodney King, Trayvon Martin, Eric Gardner, Walter Scott and Tamir Rice. To survive, what’s the price? A life... So many faces In so many places... Stop the nonsense And be conscious And Watch Your Back! Because sometimes it’s just not safe in America being Black. —Monica Lanier, poeticmoonchild
Donde Descansan Los Fieles Difuntos A mediados de otoño es un panorama espectacular, poder el apreciar la belleza en frente de nuestros ojos. Reflexionar y recordar juntos, a los que se han retirado Su presencia se siente en la brisa del viento. Horas enteras sin descansar, en el lugar donde descansan —que ha sido limpiado y arreglado con todos los olores de las comidas, las velas y las flores —que crean un exquisito aroma Decoradas con una alfombra amarillo de cempasúchil —que cubre el piso. Asombrosamente reluciente y alumbrante como si el sol hubiese bajado a alumbrar el lugar donde descansan los fieles difuntos. —Rosalina García
De noche y de día llegaban camiones lucían cláxones con pitos extraños sus rines brillaban y mofles tronaban Calaban por hierba, huisache, y culebra violando nopales, mesquite y agaves el campo temblaba de tantas maniobras aunque se escondían, sufrían sus criaturas Los hombres cargados de brío y sal perforaban con ponzoña, agua y cal abrían la tierra con hierro y sudor, con palos herían, cadenas callaban, y fuerza hidráulica fraccionaba la costura dormida milenaria Como broncos de ante años dominaban el llano con botas chorreadas salpicaban desorden el monte gritaba pero seguía el desdén
Where the Faithful Departed Rest In the middle of autumn it is a spectacular view to see, the beauty before our eyes. Remember and reflect together, on those who have left us. Their presence felt in the breeze of the wind. Hours without rest in the resting place —that has been cleaned and decorated with all the scents of the candles, flowers, and meals —that create an exquisite aroma
La mata y tierra el árbol y sol pedían auxilio para parar el temblor desde ultra tumba nació un rugir desorientando lagarto, chinche y colibrí mapache tlacuache coyote y ratón voltearon a ver de donde vino tanto clamor con fuerza de volcán salió la sombra con furor con rencor con dolor de sirena asaltó la tiniebla
Artwork: Rosalina García
Decorated with a bright yellow marigold carpet —that boldly covers the floor. Amazingly shiny and luminous, as if the sun had come down illuminating where the faithful departed rest —Rosalina García
Primero cenó con los dormidos después se atragantó con los despiertos finalizando la fritanga con los de parranda acabando con los chorreados dejó huella de su hazaña la tierra tiznada de azabache fuego y telaraña La travesura del hombre aferrado en su campaña perdió contra la extraña alimaña que desengaña la tierra es de toda flora y fauna sin sembrar cizaña —Marco Iñiguez
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Artwork: Catalina Delgado-Trunk
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* community meetings *
Amnesty International #127 Call Arthur @ 210.213.5919. Bexar Co. Green Party meets 1st Sun. Call Antonio @ 210.542.9271 or Rachell @ 210.542.9278 or bexarcountygreens@gmail.com Celebration Circle meets Sun., 11am @ Say Si, 1518 S. Alamo. Meditatn Wed. 7:30pm @ Friends Mtg House, 7052 Vandiver. 210.533.6767 |www. celebrationcircle.org DIGNITY SA mass, 5:30 pm, Sun. @ St. Paul’s Episcopal Church,1018 E. Grayson St. Call 210.340.2230 Adult Wellness Support Group of PRIDE Center meets 4th Mon., 7-9 pm @ Lions Field, 2809 Broadway. Call 210.213.5919. Energía Mía: Call 512.838.3351. Fuerza Unida, 710 New Laredo Hwy. www.lafuerzaunida.org | 210.927.2294 Habitat for Humanity meets 1st Tues. for volunteer training, 6pm, Habitat Office, 311 Probandt. LULAC Council #22198, Orgullo de SA, meets 3rd Tues. @ 6:45pm at Papouli’s, 255 E. Basse Rd. To join e-mail: info@lulac22198.org NOW SA Chapter meets 3rd Weds. Check FB/satx.now | 210.802.9068 | nowsaareachapter@gmail.com
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9•
Pax Christi, SA meets monthly on Saturdays. Call 210.460.8448
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Proyecto Hospitalidad Liturgy meets Thurs. 7pm, 325 Courtland. SA Women Will March: www.sa womenwillmarch.org|210 262.0654 Metropolitan Community Church services & Sunday school @10:30am, 611 East Myrtle. Call 210.472.3597
Be Part of a
Overeaters Anonymous meets MWF in Spanish & daily in English: www. oasanantonio.org | 210.492.5400.
Progressive Movement
People’s Power Coalition meets last Thursdays. Call 210.878.6751
in San Antonio
PFLAG, meets 1st Thurs. @ 7pm, University Presbyterian Church, 300 Bushnell Ave. Call 210.848.7407. Parents of Murdered Children, meets 2nd Mondays at Balcones Hts Community Ctr, 107 Glenarm See www.pomcsanantonio.org. Rape Crisis Ctr 7500 US Hwy 90W. Hotline: 210.349.7273 | 210.521.7273 Email: sgabriel@ rapecrisis.com The Religious Society of Friends meets Sun. 10am at The Friends Meeting House, 7052 N. Vandiver. 210.945.8456. S.A. Gender Association meets 1st & 3rd Thursday, 6-9pm @ 611 E. Myrtle, Metropolitan Cmty Church. The SA AIDS Fdn 818 E. Grayson St. offers free Syphilis & HIV testing, 210.225.4715 | www.txsaaf.org. SAWomenWillMarch www. sawomenwillmarch.org 830.488.7493 SGI-USA LGBT Buddhists meet 2nd Sat. at 10am @ 7142 San Pedro Ave., Ste 117. Call 210.653.7755. Shambhala Buddhist Meditation Tues. 7pm & Sun. 9:30am 257 E. Hildebrand Ave. Call 210.222.9303.
¡Todos Somos Esperanza! Start your monthly donations now! Esperanza works to bring awareness and action on issues relevant to our communities. With our vision for social, environmental, economic and gender justice, Esperanza centers the voices and experiences of the poor & working class, women, queer people and people of color. We hold pláticas and workshops; organize political actions; present exhibits and performances and document and preserve our cultural histories. We consistently challenge City Council and the corporate powers of the city on issues of development, low-wage jobs, gentrification, clean energy and more. It takes all of us to keep the Esperanza going. What would it take for YOU to become a monthly donor? Call or come by the Esperanza to learn how.
S.N.A.P. (Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests). Contact Barbara at 210.725.8329. Voice for Animals: 210.737.3138 or www.voiceforanimals.org for info SA’s LGBTQA Youth meets Tues., 6:30pm at Univ. Presby. Church, 300 Bushnell Ave.www.fiesta-youth.org
¡Esperanza vive! ¡La lucha sigue, sigue! FOR INFO: Call 210.228.0201 or email: esperanza@esperanzacenter.org
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Notas Y Más November 2015
Fuerza Contra Alzheimer’s presents the First National Hispanic Bilingual Conference on Alzheimer’s Disease on November 6th & 7th at El Tropicana Riverwalk Hotel in San Antonio, Texas (110 Lexington Ave.) Do not miss this 2-Day event! Register at: FuerzaCA.org/fca-conference or call: 571-312-1179. The Central Library of San Antonio will host a tribute, Poetry to the Pueblo, on Tuesday, November 10th from 6:30-8pm for State Poet Laureate, Carmen Tafolla featuring a variety of regional artists, including spoken word poets, a film tribute to Tafolla, singer Azul’s original musical interpretation of a poem by Tafolla and choreography by Anel Flores. Free and open to the public. Autumn Dance to benefit the Wounded Warrior Project on Friday, November 13 from 8 pm to 12 am featuring Sauce González & the Westside Horns, Rocky Hernández & the OBG Band
CALAVERA SELFIE Esta doble calavera va por Carmen Tafolla, y tambien por su camino perdido, al estilo descabezada polla. De dirección filosófica o literaria nunca le faltaba visión, pero para encontar algo geográfico se perdía como un topo ratón Mientras buscaba la calle y el número Pa llegar al aeropuerto o instituto, Escribía versos con una mano en la rueda Y la otra – en el mentado papelito. Pero tanto le gustaba escribir Que apenas lo vivía y lo documentaba. Y el “cuándo terminar la autobiografía” en perpetuo argumento quedaba.
Whipple, Muerta-Paz C.C. Sin-Guerra, and Michael Aaron Casares. Contact: flordenopal@gmail.com or check flordenopalliteraryfestival.wordpress.com
& The Thunderbirds at 3315 Northwestern in San Antonio. Tickets $15 pre-sale and $18 at the door. Call 210.222.2023. The Fall 2015 issue of Presente, the newspaper of the movement to close the School of the Americas is now available online! It contains mobilizing information for the November Vigil at the gates of Fort Benning and at the Stewart Detention Center in Georgia on November 20-22, 2015. It also focuses on recent developments in Latin America and within the SOA Watch movement. For a schedule of activites go to www.soaw.org. The Flor de Nopal Literary Festival 2015 at Austin”s Emma S. Barrientos Mexican American Cultural Center at 600 River St. offers a reading on Friday, December 5th at 7 pm in the MultiUse Room with poets and writers: Erika T. Wurth, Natalia Treviño, Maria Miranda Maloney, Carolina Monsivais, Ire’ne Lara Silva, Joe Jiménez, Sarah Rafael García, Allyson
On Saturday, December 6th Flor De Nopal continues with a reading with Mouthfeel Press writers at 5pm at Resistencia Bookstore in Austin, 4926 E. Cesar Chávez, Unit C-1 featuring Maria Miranda Maloney, Carolina Monsivais, Robin Scofield, ire’ne lara silva and Celina Villagarcía. Contact: flordenopal@gmail.com or flordenopalliteraryfestival.wordpress.com
Celebrating 40 years of publishing announces the release of three new books this fall: Rant. Chant. Chisme. by National Slam finalist, Amalia Ortiz; Apology to a Whale: Words to Mend a World by Cecile Pineda; and Transcendental Train Yard with poetry by Norma Elia Cantú and Art by Marta Sánchez. See www.wingspress.com
every month for photo scanning and story sharing Gather your Westside photos, 1880 -1960 & bring them to El Rinconcito de Esperanza, 816 S. Colorado
Saturday, November 14th
10am @ Casa de Cuentos, 210-228-0201
Pobre de Carmen Tafolla Quien escribiendo murió Pero viendo que le faltaba un capítulo Dejo el descanso y regresó. Con ganas de escribir el detalle De como había sido su muerte, Se mandó una carta pidiendo “extensión” Y la aceptó ella misma, de suerte. Así que se levantó del camposanto Y se vino de prisa a su meta. Pero como siempre, se confundió entre Oeste y Sur, Y se perdió, manejando su camioneta. Ahora está peor que la Llorona Que ni vida ni muerte alcanza Va buscando el camino, perdida, ¡Pero escribiendo!—en paz descanza. —Carmen Tafolla
LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9
Second Saturday
Brief news items on upcoming community events. Send items for Notas y Más to: lavoz@esperanzacenter.org or mail to: 922 San Pedro, San Antonio, TX 78212. The deadline is the 8th of each month.
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LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2015 Vol. 28 Issue 9•
Noche Azul Autumn 2015
Doors 7:15 pm | Program 8pm Admission $5 más o menos
@ Esperana Center, 922 San Pedro Esperanza Peace & Justice Center
922 San Pedro San Antonio TX 78212 210.228.0201 • www.esperanzacenter.org
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Sunday, Nov. 1, 2015
Procession, ofrendas’ exhibit, musica, baile, calavera readings, pan de muerto, y mucho mas. Call 210.228.0201 or see schedule at esperanzacenter.org
bra no Artw ork : Jina Sam
Casa de cuentos @ Rinconcito de Esperanza (816 S. Colorado) @ 3PM-9PM
Neoliberalism, Justice & Human Rights in Mexico a talk by Laura Carlsen Esperanza: Wed., Nov. 18 @ 7 PM Trinity Campus, 040 Northrup Hall: Thur., Nov. 19 @ 9:55 to 11:10 AM
Join us at the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center’s 26th Annual
International Peace Market•Mercado Internacional de Paz In the spirit of open air markets found all over the world,
Friday, Nov. 27th & Sat. Nov. 28th • 10 am - 6 pm With over 100 local & international vendors offering: traditional Mexican wear including huipiles, rebozos, & quechquemitls; textiles from Chiapas & Oaxaca; alebrijes & Zapotec weavings; ancestral medicines & plants; clayware; artwork; natural body products; copal and incense; paper arts; musical instruments, fused glass art; woodcrafts; retablos, jewelry; fiber arts; nichos, santos & milagros; leather goods; collectibles; Aztec calendar readings; pre-columbian embroidery from Toluca, Mx; popotillo artwork; tejidos & crochet; Peruvian & Panamanian products y mucho, mucho mas! Friends • Food • Drinks • Música y baile • Hourly raffles with prizes Elder & handicapped accessible Call 210.228.0201 or check esperanzacenter.org No charge for admission! | ¡Sin costo para entrar!