LA MENSAJERA AUGUST 2021
THE
SIGMA LAMBDA GAMMA NATIONAL SORORITY, INC.
CONTENTS
Not That Sign
04
A poetry piece created by Cachete C Hird from North Florida Alumnae Assocation.
Mirror Glance
05
A poetry piece created by Cachete C Hird from North Florida Alumnae Assocation.
Who I Am
06
A writing piece created by Yesenia Ramirez from Beta Delta chapter.
Brightside, M.S.
07
A poetry piece created by Naomi Samuel from Pi chapter.
Dear Me
08
A writing piece created by Natalie Betances from Gamma Epsilon chapter.
“To Be Black in America”
14
A poetry piece created by Jeuel Davis from Gamma Delta chapter.
Love’s Knowledge
15
A poetry piece created by Jeuel Davis from Gamma Delta chapter.
Nobility in Vulnerability
16
A poetry piece created by Jeuel Davis from Gamma Delta chapter.
Warm Sand
22
A poetry piece created by Laly Rivera Perez from the Upsilion Beta chapter.
Dear Brown Young Man
23
A poetry piece created by Mercedes Walton-Mason from the Shippensburg University Colony
Beta Meets Alpha, Never, and Pages
26
Poetry pieces created by Lindsey Servin.
“Just Me” clay, glass tile 2020
28
Fun activities to incorporate with your entity!
Womb, Temple, or Tomb?
29
A poetry piece created by Diana Medina from Lambda Beta Chapter.
Creative Activities to try at your entity Fun activities to incorporate with your entity!
10
“You made me”
An art piece created by Claudia Humphrey from Omicron Beta.
30
12
Her Black Mental Health In 2020
An art piece created by Michelle Flood from Pi Gamma chapter and North Florida Alumnae Association (NFAA).
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Pride: Identity and culture Art pieces created by Matea Caluk from Omicron Alpha Chapter and WMAA.
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It’s Modelo Time Foo
An art piece created by Adilene Garcia from Gamma Epsilon.
In the summer of 2020, as the world was on hold due to the pandemic. Sigma Lambda Gamma formed the Creative Arts Task Force to put together the first ever SLG poetry and art collection. Our sisterhood is filled with talent and we wanted to show it off. The first of its kind, this collection is a cocreated compilation of poetry and graphic art by and for our membership. The theme for submissions was “Tell Your Story.” Stories are powerful. They fuel movements, create connections, foster healing, and grow our understanding of one another. We invited the membership to get creative with their interpretations of this theme for submissions. Whatever it means to them, whatever it awakens in their creative spirit, whatever stories from our membership were important to share. That is what is compiled here. Through this publication our goals were simple: to foster unity, creativity, and connection. We hope this collection can serve as an inspirational resource that celebrates the stories and showcases the talents of our beautiful, powerful, and distinct membership.
Enjoy! Diana Medina and Alisha Lewis SLG Creative Arts Task Force
“Writing is one way to be creative and share your feelings with the rest of the world. I hope you enjoy and join this adventure with me.”
-Cachete C. Hird
Photo used from Sister Amari J. 4
Dark yet sad Secrets and memories Hidden behind Making her mad
Not That Sign
She doesn’t recognize Those eyes Looking back at her
By Cachete C. Hird
She sees too many emotions The pain in all these things She has held hidden deep down
Stop You’re heading in a direction That will take your further Make you better Challenge your every fiber Stop Don’t pass go In that direction You will have even more challenges They won’t ever understand Stop You, Afro-Latina Woman They won’t listen to you They will push you beyond measure Tell you no, you’re not a fit Stop They will try to stop you You, amazing woman of God Bound by morals and standards Encouraged to never give up Stop You, expat in a strange land Constantly learning Scared for your future Still trying to find your way Stop Wait, they can’t stop you You hold your head up high Walking confidently in the direction you achieved Never stop that stride
Cachete C Hird
Dreams and imaginations Slowly gone and disappeared Fear and anxiety flood her mind When did it all arrive?
North Florida Alumnae Assocation Spring 2016 IG: @cash_monet24 website: www.cashmoneywrites. blogspot.com
In those eyes They dance in the mirror Taunting her mind She slowly realizes she doesn’t know
Mirror Glance By Cachete C. Hird
Who she is anymore Pull away the fancy jewelry Wipe off the Fenty make up
She looks in the mirror She sees herself But does not recognize Her face
Who is this face that she sees? A mask of someone she wanted to be
The constant fight with trying to recognize The allure of wondering who Is she looking at If it’s really her
Big brown eyes
Lips Those shining lips With her favorite shade of Selena lipstick Como La Flor The color makes her skin Her caramel brown skin seem brighter in the mirror
Full of hopes and dreams Curved lips from her Mother With a bright smile Dimples she is scared to show Yet She tries to hide from all the pain She looks in the mirror
Yet her next glance reminds her Eyes
And slowly takes in all the things she has seen Now remembers and believes No longer scared to see
Captivating yet hidden
Who she is to be. 5
Who I am
By Yesenia Ramirez Growing up, my mother always told me that I have four strikes against me: I’m a WOMAN, I’m Black, I’m Latina, and most of all, I’m disabled. She also told me to never let my disability define who I am as a person. She told me to be a fighter and advocate for others. Going to schooI as a youngster, I used to be called stupid, told that I wasn’t going to be anybody successful, humiliated and mentally scarred. Well, they lied. I am a smart, intelligent, and a successful entrepreneur who doesn’t let my disability define me. I graduated from high school and college with honors. I am a part of a Sorority who has been my backbone since I crossed. Yesenia Ramirez Beta Delta Spring 14 IG: Asyaheart27 Facebook: https://www.facebook. com/AsyaHeart27
They accepted me for who I am, despite my physical challenges. I have and still am overcoming the odds. I am breaking boundaries. I am breaking chains. I am a True fighter and a survivor of many obstacles. I am my own person. I am didn’t and won’t let the pain and obstacles from the past bring me down. . I am powerful and strong!
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Naomi Samuel, Pi, Spring 2016 linkedin.com/naomi-samuel IG: @naomixsamuel
Brightside, M.S. By Yesenia Ramirez
I feel the sun behind me It tells me many things It screams for me to think bigger And I do so cordially I walk through cold AC Goosebumps spike through all my words But long as the sun comes up I know I will be heard If not by all nearby Then certainly by those afar The ones in the land overseas Who were there to see the stars And so I will keep walking PARADING through my everyday Because I know what is inside Is going to find its way I am a thunderbolt You will see me strike on high! I will crash before the sun! You will recognize my cry! Do not turn the other way-It is only the sun that blinds.
I wrote this as my Corporate lullaby, and a poetic slap in the face to myself when the whiteness and singularity in Corporate America make me feel smaller than I am.” 7
DEAR ME, NATALIE BETANCES
Dear me, I am sorry.
I allowed you to wallow in pain but cover it up with a joke.” 8
I’m sorry that you have been away from home for so long that you started to make homes out of others and labeled yourself a lost girl. I’m sorry that you ran away from your own problems thinking that if you could make others love you, you could maybe learn to love yourself through their reflections because if they could learn to tolerate you and love the very things you hate so much, then maybe, just maybe you could learn too. That you ever hesitated when someone asks you “what you love about yourself,” but could say what you love about others without a thought. I’m sorry for trying to fix others wounds while letting you bleed, giving them the decorations you adorned your home with leaving you deserted.
Gamma Epsilon SPRING 19 IG: @nmb.xcx Website:https://nataliebetances21.wixsite.com/mysite
I’m sorry for pushing everyone away, but mostly I’m sorry for ignoring your feelings. For being so out of touch with you that I forgot your worth and caused you so much pain. I’m sorry for clutching onto people on ledges when your own hands were shaking. Your hands have held everything, but yourself. I’m sorry that there were nights when you cried yourself to sleep, when you could’ve been held if you just let your walls down a little. That I allowed you to wallow in pain but cover it up with a joke and a smile on the side. And I am so sorry that I didn’t love you, like you deserve to be loved.
9
“YOU MADE ME” CLAUDIA HUMPHREY
Omicron Beta Spring18 IG and Twitter: @Strawberrypunch
“You made me” digital, 2020, I wanted to make something that represented me and nothing represents that more than the womxn in my life. 10
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Michelle Flood Pi Gamma chapter and North Florida Alumnae Association (NFAA) FALL05 (crossed) and SPRING07 (initiated) Instagram and Twitter= @Flood_Michelle_
Her Black Mental Health in 2020 is a mixed media, materials used include: oil paint, acrylic paint, fabric, ribbon, magazine collage pieces, newspaper collage pieces, collage pieces from books, Sharpie markers; created in 2020. This artwork provides a snapshot of the current state of mental health for Black women. Shown in the art is some of the thoughts and concerns that some Black women (like myself) have been preoccupied with this year. The artwork both represents a snapshot into my mind as a Black woman, therefore telling my story at this point in time, but is also meant to be applicable to other Black women. 12
Her Black Mental Health In 2020 13
“TO BE BLACK IN AMERICA” JEUEL DAVIS
Look in the mirror. What do you see? To be Black in America is to be unfree. I feel dehumanized every time someone dies who looks like me. Can you imagine leaving your home and doubting that others will see? That your brown skin is indeed humanity? There are no words for the toll it takes mentally. For the pain it causes viscerally. For the havoc it wreaks emotionally. You sit on your thrones of “this doesn’t apply to me” while we are lynched rapidly. Look in the mirror. What do you see? To be Black in America is to be unfree. I’m disgusted by entreaty. Why should we have to beg to breathe? When heads turn the other way while we suffocate. Grand juries dangled to placate. Can you imagine being expected to function in this state? As we watch the execution of Black people at an alarming rate? Look in the mirror. What do you see? To be Black in America is to be unfree. This isn’t up for debate. The not so subliminal message is: be grateful you’re not chattel. 14
As if we aren’t still herded like cattle into coffins. Why must we fight this battle so often? Hoodie or none? A walk or a run? Any sudden movements? He’s got a gun! Pulled over? Living in your home? So many excuses made by so many clones as America’s criminal injustice system keeps mum on the crimes of their own. Look in the mirror. What do you see? To be Black in America is to be unfree. A lesson I was taught before I’d ever flown. You will be prosecuted for your melanin while others will roam free in a different skin. No code, moral or legal, for those men. Yet we’re asked to rise above in spite of them. How long must we climb this mountain? There’s no rest when reaching Mt. Everest is a less daunting test than wading through the daily duress of worrying about arrest. America, how can you ask for God to bless? When every day I wake up I am charged with embarking on a quest to stay alive. Look in the mirror. What do you see? To be Black in America is to be unfree. If you don’t worry when your child leaves your
house, If you don’t question when you should be out, If you don’t fret when you see blue and red lights, If you’ve never thought: are my hands in plain sight? If you don’t have to beg your doctor to listen, If everyone cares when you go missing, If you’ve never been killed in your church, Or had 911 called on you by the same women who always clutch their purse, If you get to protest whatever you please, or commit blatant crimes and get off scot free… If you aren’t arrested for entering your home, If you’re getting offended while reading this poem, It’s time to look in the mirror. Ask yourself: what do you see? To be Black in America is to be unfree. -- Jeuel A. Davis
Love’s Knowledge The tree of my love begs to be consumed. I grapple with inviting you to feast its fruit with me daily. This serpent of seduction doesn’t hound you, Adam. As I lay here on the eve of becoming Eve I cleave to my stable singleness, my marginal vulnerability, my sensible sharing of my search for a specific sentiment. With you. Good grief, do I want to devour my love’s fruit and offer it to you, so you will join me in succumbing to its power. Yet I do not indulge. The devil of attraction slithers within me while I sustain the sedation of the sin of my love’s fruit. Eaten too soon it’s nutrition won’t bloom.
My love will consume and send our bond to its doom. I just want to swoon. But you’re too different. Too uncertain. Too oblivious. Too laidback. Unknowingly Adam. And I’m too controlling. Too passionate. Too far along. Too counter cultural. Imminently Eve. So what will it be? Will the knowledge of my love stave off your acceptance of your own? Will it be too soon for us to be naked in our feelings? Will we scramble to cover up, suppressing what we could have? Love covers a multitude of sins, except when it is the sin. Will I surrender to the snake of selfishness that starves for the freedom to fully feel?
I don’t want my Eve similarities to lead to the devastating realities of sin’s separation. But while you walk on your own, I am alone, Adam, Come home. Make your feelings known. I can only hold on for so long before I give up or give in. My tree dies or I sin while I wait for you to be propelled from within. --Jeuel A. Davis
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Nobility in Vulnerability We call it strength when it’s just suppression. And wonder why we’re plagued with depression. So averse to a therapy session... or two. Too worried about the you in the why that you’d rather refuse to cry and forget what lying implies. Because in order to thrive you must survive no matter the circumstance. We can’t deviate from the plan, can’t hold out our hand, can’t ask people to understand the constant aim to dominate our land. Would it be too much to take a stand for our pain and trauma? We ironically say we hate drama yet it’s drummed up the more we push down the crowns on our heads. We cloak our struggles in invisibility, and focus on our royalty instead. But what happens when we’re dethroned no matter how much we own this game called life? What happens when our internal fight manifests in our external strife? For so long we pay the price until our account can’t account for the emotional currency we’ve lost. Too high is the cost for any human being to treat trauma as fleeting, to ignore the symptoms that are teeming behind our faces that, 16
strangely, are beaming with pride for what we’ve managed to keep inside. Maybe if we truly embraced what is inside our minds and hearts we wouldn’t allow what’s been ignored to tear us apart. We will never truly depart from the mediocrity we avoid until we finally learn what many have tried to impart. We cannot sustain being strong if we’re not willing to admit when something’s wrong. True power comes in the sad song, the reality of exposure, the epiphany cloaked in torture, the opportunity for closure. The chance to say the fight with that demon is over. We can’t win the war when we have wounds that still smolder. If we don’t normalize healing we’ll be no different than those older. They’ve passed on a legacy of majesty as if the expense for royalty can’t lead to casualty.
We cloak our struggles in invisibility, and focus on our royalty instead. But what happens when we’re dethroned? It’s time to live differently: our true strength found in vulnerability.
--Jeuel A. Davis
Jeuel Davis Gamma Delta- FALL10 IG: jeuel_davis; Twitter/Snapchat: TheW1seONE FB: Jeuel Arieh Davis
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Values & Beliefs wall decor, wood and acrylic paint (2020)
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MATEA CALUK
All pieces represent pride in identity and culture to be displayed in a chosen space.
Omicron Alpha Chapter and WMAA Spring 2007 Facebook: Ponos by Matea
Bottom Right Photo: Heart shaped South African Flag, wood and acrylic paint (2020)
Photo Above: Progress flag desktop organizer, wood and acrylic paint (2020)
Left Page Photo: Values & Beliefs wall decor, wood and acrylic paint (2020)
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SIGMA LAMBDA GAM EDUCATION FOUNDATION
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MMA Donor Future, is a graphic created by the Education Foundation to highlight our story. A story that would not be possible without our donors. A story with a future that cannot be written without the amazing support and contributions of our membership and our communities. Twitter&Ig: slg_efoundation FB: Sigma Lambda Gamma Education Foundation 21
Warm Sand I sit here on the warm sand looking at the Caribbean Sea And wonder how can this be? How did I get so lucky? To be able to travel alone and without feeling guilty I sit here on the warm sand looking at the waves crashing on the high rocks Observing the locals and hear them speak I wonder if they know how lucky they are To feel the warm sand between your toes To feel the cool Caribbean breeze on your face
Laly Rivera Perez Upsilon Beta Fall 2003 IG: @brisa15yb
I sit here on the warm sand Feeling the sun rays on my face It feels like a touch of grace I sit here on the warm sand And fall in love with myself all over again
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Dear Brown Young Man I wear the same mask as you I model how to wear it, the one that grins and lies I choose to impart my curriculum and provide a space for you to remove your mask As I navigate the injustices of systemic educational woes, challenge-less courses and inequitable detention and suspension rates on your behalf, I wonder how you will achieve within these walls and beyond and… I can’t breathe What teacher tells her students to be safe as they leave her class Fears of what will happen to you because you are seen first as thug or criminal instead of a person Knowing that when you exit they won’t see the brilliant, talented adolescent I know They see hoods and hip hop, jays and jerseys, slang and shades of melanin Things that you may do for the culture perpetuate stereotypes but are acclaimed when your counterparts adapt or claim them as their own Yet you continue to navigate two worlds, mask on...mask off and I can’t breathe The term black excellence isn’t simply a mantra, but a mandate from our ancestors They knew that in order to progress, excellence in every area, especially education was essential not optional So think before you miss class or ask to work outside They knew that knowledge would appear to level the playing field Opening doors labeled as affirmative action which do not affirm the actions you take to expand your perspective, grow in intelligence and participate in diverse experiences So I stand with you and for you, your advocate, your mentor, your champion Your teacher 23
Mercedes Walton-Mason Shippensburg University Colony FALL03 IG - Quorra06 Twitter - MsMasonPAACS
IT’S MODELO TIME FOO ACRYLIC ON DIGITAL PRINT, 2020
As a person of color, representation is very important to me. Representation of POCs in fine art and our experiences are still not as easily seen as our white counterparts. This work defies the over presented white male narrative that has become a staple in the art world and made it my own. In doing so, I am creating art that focuses on me as an individual and my culture. By taking recognizable scenes and using icons that allude to well-known works and reimagining them, I can take control of this narrative and provide a framework for the audience. I also challenge contemporary work by adding to existing pieces.
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My work confronts exclusion and at the same time shows the power of appropriation. It’s ironic, yet powerful. I use a bright and vibrant color palette in my work to show the vitality of my culture. My works seem flat in nature because, although I am taking very detailed and realistic works, I want to move away from the formality of the fine arts.
Adilene Garcia Gamma Epsilon SPRING18 personal: @addiii.g art page: @garciaa.gallery business page: @bussinbeautybar
This is to show that even art that looks like mine is worthy of being exhibited in well-known museums and being considered high level art.
Representation of POCs in fine art and our experiences are still not as easily seen as our white counterparts. 25
BETA MEETS ALPHA
BY LINDSEY SERVIN A white mustang in a purple haze. When Beta met Alpha, it set him ablaze. A panther with passion, pride and principle. Captured his heart with only a gaze. Her song. Her dance. Bemused him into a daze. Pleasure. Then Pain. All just a phase. Tether her. Tame her. A sundry of ways. She softened. She surrendered. A brief malaise. Try as he might. For that, due praise. But he could never alter her recalcitrant ways.
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NEVER
BY LINDSEY SERVIN, 2019
What if she never hurt? Never cried? Never fell apart? What if she never felt the sting of rejection? Never looked longingly out the window for one who would never return? What if she never broke? Never regretted words spewed in anger? What if she never failed nor faltered? Never felt insecure, unsure or afraid? What if she never crashed? Never burned inside with rage? What if she never felt betrayal so deep she wished for death? Never felt empty? Invisible? What if she never felt forgotten? Never felt abandoned or insignificant? Well, my dear, then I’d say she never tried. Never loved. Never lived.
Lindsey Servin Sigma Lambda Gamma Spring06 IG: @truthatude www.truthatude.com
PAGES BY LINDSEY SERVIN These pages are her sacred space. Her refuge. Her retreat. Her hiding place. They hold her dreams. Her secrets. Her truths. Her lies. These pages are the place where her soul goes to cry. What started out as a young girl’s diary Is now a woman’s raw and readable history. Her story. Herstory. My story. pride. The laughter and tears The journey of the battles shared with those she’s won and the wars who remain with her and she’s fought. The details those who’ve died. of the life she’s lived and These pages are her sacred the loves she’s lost. These space. pages house the hurt. The Where she goes to bury healing. those fears she’s yet to face. Her worries. Her wants. Her And everything in between. sanctuary. They capture the pain. The Her story. Herstory. My story.
These pages are her endless scroll. Of the life she’s lived and the life she’s living. These pages, one day to be released. With no holds barred. Will share the stories of those who’ve helped her mend. And those who’ve left her scarred. An uncensored mentioning of names. And no effort made to save face. No consideration given. To those who feel entitled to her grace. When the last thread is clipped, These pages will be printed. And all will be revealed of all the things she’s hinted. Her story. Herstory. My 27
“Just Me” Alisha Lewis Rho Alpha Chapter Spring 2008 North Florida Alumnae Association IG: @BrownGirlsUnite Website: www.BrownGirlsUnite. com
“Just Me” clay, glass tile 2020 A quiet resolve is all I can muster at times… Knowing their internal drama shows itself by lashing out at me, blaming me for their failures, and regrets. Steps away, closes eyes. I take a moment to hold my breath and understand that it’s not just me. I’m not irrational. I can’t help them, they must want to help themselves. I can only change me, just me. Breathes out. I first created this sculptural bust just to test my skills after many years and it evolved into something unexpected. This artwork is an embodiment of calm and understanding that I need in my life story that is ever developing. 28
Womb, Temple, or Tomb? My body is a temple I pray to saints that live among the ruins of my womb They tell me the creator wanted things this way They said my destiny is to break toxic cycles to make sure these family traumas die with me
In every family there is a chosen one whose womb is destined for greater things A misunderstood breaker of cycles A reinventor, a paver of new paths Ancestral traumas and toxic traditions All of them will die in their hands They will turn these things into clay They will use them create something new To breath life into those who lost it To awaken those who sleep among the living That is why people call them too much and beg them to stay small and fit into boxes Abundance like theirs can never be contained It must simply run its course for all of our sakes
Diana Medina Lambda Beta Chapter Fall 2001 IG: @offtheclocker Website: www.offtheclocker. 29
They say: you are the one we have chosen our village’s traumas and toxic traditions all of them die with you you are the cycle breaker the reinventor the paver of a new path the maker of word filled legacies you are destined to love souls to breath life into those who lost it those who sleep while going through the motions of life
Mi cuerpo es un templo Rezo a los santos que viven entre las ruinas de mi vientre Me dicen que asi queria Dios las cosas Dicen que mi destino es romper ciclos tóxicos para así asegurar que estos traumas familiares se mueren conmigo.
CREATIVE ACTIVITIES TO TRY AT YOUR ENTITY 1.Write a haiku with your Chapter adjective. 2. Create a Venn Diagram, with a fellow chapter member. Both members describe yourself in separate circles then write commonalities in the middle. 3. “Micro-Courage” Trace your hand on paper, then draw or write something you will be courageous about. It does not have to be something grand, it can even be a small act that nudges you towards something greater
WE WANT TO AMPLIFY YOUR VOICE. TO CREATE THIS PUBLICATION, SLG NEEDS THE ASSISTANCE OF THE MEMBERSHIP.
Submit Story Ideas: Send us an email to submit ideas, sister spotlights submissions and feature story suggestions. You can also submit photos. SLG accepts photos that have been emailed straight from the camera/phone that are not compressed or cropped. Emailed photos should NOT be embedded into the body of an email or a Microsoft Word document; they should be files that are attached to the email. Send emails to: lamensajera@sigmalambdagamma.com.
Special thanks to all who contributed to this issue of La Mensajera, authors, poets, designers. Thank you to for the amazing magazine cover, Sisters Dipita Das and Sonya Chhabra. Along with the photographer IG: @photographermoe. Sisters IG: @datpita_ and @sonyachhabra.
Chief-Editor/Layout Editor: Alexandra Limon Editors: Shelly Criswell and Morgan Taylor Creative Arts Task Force: Alisha Lewis and Diana Medina
