La vida la lucha by La Vida Penn

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The Staff Chiefs Chief of Publications Chief of Marketing Chief of Editorial

Samuel Muñeton Jr. Karina Miranda Enrique Montoya

Publications Creative Director Creative Director Creative Assistant Creative Assistant ¡guau! Representative ¡guau! Representative

Juan Cabrera Sara Ramirez Ivanna Berrios Lizette Grajales Tiffany Dominguez Carol Quezada-Olivo

Marketing Brand Marketing Visual Marketing Digital Marketing Projects Manager

Ana Barrera Karina Romero Angelo Matos Rogelio Caro

Editorial Opinions Columnist Opinions Columnist Activism Columnist Spotlight Columnist Spotlight Columnist Content Editor English Editor Spanish Editor

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Marcella Marquez Melvin Reyes Jorge Penado Celeste Diaz Miguel Gonzales Hannah Wied Carlos Price-Sanchez Oscar Hernandez-Murillo

Letter from the Chiefs Dear Reader, La Vida Magazine is dedicated to sharing the voices of the Latinx community – a diverse community with a cornucopia of experiences and struggles that break away from the standard stereotypes. We hope to make our community proud by sharing their struggles and becoming a unifying voice for happiness and liberation. We proudly present our spring 2017 issue of La Vida Magazine. This year’s theme is La Lucha: The Struggle, a theme we find appropriate given that we are in an era of borders and are faced with an onslaught of divisive policies.

without you. We would also be remiss if we did not thank all the wonderful people who submitted and chose to share their struggle with us and to our community. Thank you. We hope that you enjoy reading the edition as much as we enjoyed producing it. La Lucha sigue—and so shall we. Saludos, Karina Miranda, Marketing Chief Enrique Montoya, Editorial Chief Samuel Muñeton Jr., Publications Chief

The struggles of the Latinx community range farther than what the popular media or rambunctious politicians lead us to believe. There is more to the Latinx community than the plight of the undocumented. Our struggles exist within culture, identity, language, appearance, and politics. We hope that by sharing our struggles, we find solidarity with our friends and family here at Penn. We would like to thank our staff for their tireless effort in bringing this magazine together. This could not have been done

Enrique Montoya

Karina Miranda

LA VIDA | LA LUCHA 5 Samuel Muñeton Jr.

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To the Government of the United States and to the American People, This is a letter to defy the acceptance of a gross moral defeat in our country’s politics. The election of an individual so antithetical to our moral values as a community of Latinxs and as a community of Americans is unsettling. It represents a denial of the basic tenets of good character. These moral values and basic tenets of good character should not be confused with the liberal and progressive values many of us hold dear. What happened in November and what operates today is not an issue of liberal or progressive values. It is an issue of integrity, honor, respect, and human decency. A president who proclaims that most Mexican immigrants are rapists and criminals casts an unfair shadow of doubt on all of us, doubt on whether or not we can be trusted with the lives of our fellow Americans. This narrative commits us to disproving it when many of us have already proven it wrong. Latinos are Marines, doctors, construction workers, caregivers, and educators. Our commitment to honor, respect, and decency is insulted. This president claims that he can grab a woman by the pussy, an undeniable act of sexual assault, but yet he accuses our families of rape. It is bewilderingly hypocritical and disgusting. He claims that "Blacks" and "Hispanics" are overwhelmingly violent, yet he calls for the violent murder of the innocent families of terrorists. This man is our president. We would like to believe that demanding to see President Obama’s birth certificate was nothing but a cruel joke. We would like to believe that demanding Mexico to pay for a wall is merely for show. We would even like to believe that his unconstitutional Muslim ban is nothing but an empty political promise. But this is not the case. So here we stand, at the presidency of a man who wants to “Make America Great Again,” but fails to realize that we have been on the path of making America great since before he was born. As members of the Latinx community and the rising leaders of the future, we make our stand to defend the rights of all Americans with honor, respect, and decency. We will continue our work in making America great by ensuring that we create a fair and equal society for all. We stand with women, LGBT+, Muslims, immigrants, Black Lives Matter, racial minorities, the working class, our conservative friends, and even the 29% of Latinos who voted for Trump. Because standing for them and standing for all is what it means to be an American. And this is what it means to Make America Great.

Transiente

Image by Sara Ramirez

Sincerely, The Staff of La Vida Magazine & Friends

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Two Years “So what are you thinking about doing after Penn?” A pause. Just a little. But not for too long. You know your major and you know what you want to do, so why not respond with that? Because you’re unsure. Uncertainty is something that many of us are familiar with. But this is not a story about everyone. This is my story and my relationship with that question. If there’s anything that will stick with me after I graduate it will be that people love to ask: “What‘s next?” But being undocumented makes you hesitate during casual conversations with mentors or with alums who visit the school or during your endless Penn networking. You know what you want to do and what you will be trying to do, but you don’t really know. You’re not in control of your future as much as you would like to be. And even then, you have to remind yourself of the privilege that comes with being a DACA recipient. And even then, it’s a burden. We all know it was a temporary fix, a bandage that helped, let us heal, let us build ourselves and make us stronger… but it was no solution. The thing is, with DACA, I can only imagine my life in two year increments. As much as I would like to imagine myself in academia, fostering my research and building my career... I can’t. It’s not a matter of confidence, where I cannot see myself in my field, working hard to pursue something I love, it’s a matter of uncertainty of my presence in this country. This semester, I received my renewal. I was granted another two years. Two more years of employment authorization. Two more years of deferred action. But how can I plan for my future when all I have is two years? So yes, I am thinking about doing a lot after Penn. The world is mine to take and I will make it my own. But for now, all I have are these two years.

–Melvin Reyes

SI ADELANTE NO VAS. ALTRASARÁS: A Look at the Current State of the American Immigration Debate Introduction The state of immigration policy in the United States is an issue that is now grasping the attention of many. Tensions between the new Trump administration and immigration rights activists continue to rise as many Latinos and allies have kindled their involvement in the political discussion. But, the questions rise: What is it all about? What are people doing? How did we even get here to begin with? For this latter question, one can look to the history of immigration policy to understand it all. History of Immigration Reform The United States has always been known as a “melting pot” where immigrants from around the world come in search of the American Dream. However, why is it that there’s such rivalrous rhetoric about immigrants that dominates the discussion now? And, how have Latinos played into that? Immigration policy history, while extremely complex and detailed, can be observed with certain statistical information. For example, there are an estimated 11 million unauthorized immigrants in the U.S. and 80% of these immigrants are Latino. Most significantly, IRCA in 1986 was the last reform policy that allowed 3 million people to regularize their status. After this, reform for a path to citizenship has become increasingly difficult as policy is now centered around increased enforcement since the 1990s. Then, from the 1970s to now, the rise in unauthorized immigration from Mexico and Latin American only led to greater intensification of the US border patrol and increase in protectionism through policy like Operation Blockade, 1986 Immigration Reform and Control Act and the political response to the 9/11 Terrorist Attacks.

State of Immigration Debate

National Call to Action

Trump’s Executive Order

“A Day Without Immigrants”

In modern times, Trump’s Executive Order 13767 known as “Border Security and Immigration Enforcement Improvements,” signed on January 25, 2017, gives a very clear stance on this issue. The executive order supports Trump’s campaign promise of the wall by formally declaring the “[allocation of] all sources of Federal funds for the planning, designing, and constructing of a physical wall along the southern border.” The order takes a strict stance against unauthorized immigration to the US. However, many have spoken out against actions. According to a Reuters report, the wall may cost $21.6 billion and take 3.5 years to build. Many have spoken out saying that it is not a worthy investment and distracts the policy from other, better solutions to immigration reform.

On the other side, the response to administrative actions like those mentioned above have energized Latinos and allies around the nation. For example, on February 16, many participated in “A Day Without Immigrants” protest, which started on social media and spread to cities and towns across the country. These protests are a response to Trump’s executive orders with branched-off protests arising like the “Day Without Latinos” in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. They are meant to emphasize the vital role Latinos play in U.S. economy by staying home from work or school, not shopping and not eating out. These protests are meant to grab the attention of the administration and to prove that stricter immigration policy will only harm the US. People around the nation have united in a common cause, a feat all too noteworthy.

ICE Operations Growing? At the same time as this executive order plays out, activist groups are wary of increasing ICE activities. According to an ICE report on February 2017, there were “680 arrests of convicted criminal aliens and other immigration enforcement priorities,” around areas like Los Angeles, Chicago and New York. Many activist groups grow concerned because ICE operations now do not abide by immigration enforcement priorities (i.e. “criminals,”) a troubling remark that leaves the interpretation open and vague. Similarly, while most of these ICE operations target “criminal” immigrants, there have been examples of non-criminals, with no deportation orders, being targeted in Georgia, North Carolina and South Carolina. This fact strikes fear in the hearts of many Latinos in the US.

Conclusion

References History.com Staff. "U.S. Immigration Since 1965." History.com. A&E Television Networks, 2010. Web.

Ainsley, Julia Edwards, and Kristina Cooke. "Over 680 arrested in U.S. immigration raids; rights groups alarmed." Reuters. Thomson Reuters, 14 Feb. 2017. Web.

"Executive Order: Border Security and Immigration Enforcement Improvements." The White House. The United States Government, 23 Feb. 2017. Web.

Ax, Joseph, and Liza Feria. "Protests call for U.S. immigrants to stay home from work, school."

Ainsley, Julia Edwards. "Exclusive - Trump border 'wall' to cost $21.6 billion, take 3.5 years to build: internal report." Reuters. Thomson Reuters, 09 Feb. 2017. Web.

The state of immigration policy in the US is complicated. History shows a pattern of protectionism and anti-immigrant sentiment taking a hold of policy. However, the true measure of history is how people react and how society accepts or rejects the pattern. Many Latinos around the nation have a personal connection to immigration policy. If anything, the state of immigration policy has potential for equality and respect if those who are most connected express their interests to an administration that has publically been divisive. Through the complication, society thrives from change, and Latinos can lead efforts to enact this.

–Jorge Penado

Reuters. Thomson Reuters, 16 Feb. 2017. Web. Renee, Sedria. "Thousands protest immigration crackdown in 'Day Without Latinos'" NBCNews.com. NBCUniversal News Group, 13 Feb. 2017. Web.

Flower Man

Image by Sara Ramirez

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In this city of streets and bright lights My blood bleeds the Dominican plight I reside in a city that rejects my curls, Rejects the crisp chops of syllables That I call my Spanish. Rejects the fast movements of my waist Whenever I hear the fast 1-2-3 paces Of the Tipico beat So damn loud! they exclaim, As they hit the ceiling with a broom, Threatening to call the police. Please do not make anymore noise. Your looks of disgust are enough. Your fastened pace when I walk behind you, Is enough. Your dramatic pronunciation of every English word When you speak to me, Is enough. The list goes on. Your oppression continues and continues To silence me. And all I ask for is some music, that I can call my own. I come from A plethora of shades of browns A land where Tainos once ruled Where my ancestors roamed The roots that they watered And let grow into The hues of blues and reds That spreads across the illustrious flag Dominicana, soy! De mis raices yo no voy a olvidarme I am no more different than you You see, My brown skin, my nappy hair, my pride YOU, decided was different. It was YOU, who decided, That I was Dominican And not simply a Latina from New York, Not simply a human inhabiting this country. Can I not be all three? Trujillo could not stop us. What makes you so special? YOU are a simple strand of thread And I am a whole intricate web.

Yolanda

Image by Juan Cabrera

-an

Written by Brianna Vizcaino In this city of streets and bright lights My blood bleeds the Mexican plight I reside in a city that ridicules my accent Ridicules the harmony of the guitars and maracas That my people listen to. Ridicules our journey over the borders And fabricates our stories of migration When all we craved Was the American Dream To at least meet our expectations. How foolish we were To believe That we’d work so hard And get our fair share As promised by the entrepreneur. Please do not rape me more than what this country already has Your questions of status are enough. Your disappointment as I pull my food stamps out, Are enough. Your cultural appropriation of my culture, Is enough. The list goes on. Your oppression continues and continues To mock me. And all I ask for is recognition, For our long history of pain and suffering. I come from A plethora of shades of browns A land where the Aztecs and Mayans once ruled Where my ancestors roamed The roots that they watered And let grow into The hues of greens and reds That spreads across the illustrious flag Quiero recordarlo al gringo Yo no cruce la frontera la frontera me cruzó! I am no more different than you You see, My thick hair, my music, my pride YOU, decided was different. It was YOU, who decided, That I was Mexican And not simply a Latina from New York, Not simply a human inhabiting this country. Can I not be all three? Your country’s laws could not stop us. What makes you so special? YOU are a simple strand of thread And I am a whole intricate web.

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In this city of streets and bright lights My blood bleeds the Nicaraguan plight. I reside in a city where I am not acknowledged, Where I am blurred into the other Where I am the product of an unknown history Niggeragua, what is that? They ask. And soon enough this conversation is over. My 10-year old self does not know how to answer this. It’s where my parents are from, I say As I try to disassociate this word from myself As much as I can. I can tell from their twisted white faces That this is not their normal And I know I am immediately placed Into a category I have been placed all my life. I am an in between. You are not one of us: You like soccer, We like baseball. You listen to Cumbia, We listen to rancheros. You speak that Spaniard Spanish, We speak broken Spanish. You call them frijoles, We say habichuela. Please do not continue to belittle my existence Your twisted face as you hear the name of my country, Is enough. Your ignorance to my culture, Is enough. The list goes on. Your oppression continues and continues To confine me. And all I ask for is acceptance, But not even this, you can give me. I come from A plethora of shades of browns A land where the Nicaraos and Mayans once ruled Where my ancestors roamed The roots that they watered And let grow into The hues of blues and whites That spreads across the illustrious flag Soy la raza nicaragüense sabe de luchas y de honor, Y luce altiva en su frente los esplendores de su sol! I am no more different than you You see, My cumbia, my food, my pride YOU, decided was different. It was YOU, who decided, That I was Nicaraguan And not simply a Latina from New York, Not simply a human inhabiting this country. Can I not be all three? Somoza could not stop us. What makes you so special? YOU are a simple strand of thread And I am a whole intricate web.

Liminal Space

Written by Anonymous As a student in the United States for the last six and a half years, I have been living in liminal space, unsure of whether I should put roots down in this country before I am asked to leave. As a non-STEM undergraduate student, I was told I had one year to work before I needed to obtain visa sponsorship or, alternatively, leave the country. As an international student, I was told that if my resume sounded “international,” firms wouldn’t consider my application for jobs. I was also told that I was ineligible to apply for many jobs because of my immigrant status. In the wake of the 2016 presidential election, I am now even less confident than before about studying or living in this country in the future. I may, just as many other students, be asked, told, decide, or even be forced to leave, possibly to the country’s long-term detriment, rather than benefit. I understand the US perspective on the issue: that non-Americans shouldn’t expect to forge a life and career in America because it might harm the economy and country. However, I question this argument’s validity, with regards both legal and illegal immigration. As it stands now, it is not clear to what extent immigration is good or bad for America. Nobody seems to be taking a measured perspective. Too many people and politicians seem to be unwilling to discuss the issue and question their assumptions, individuals on both the right and left included. From an America-centered perspective, the right question to ask on the topic would be “does immigration hurt or help the US on the whole?” A lot of the debate seems to center on economics, ignoring or even misrepresenting the cultural and social aspects of immigration, and at times misrepresenting economic facts as well. Economically, some argue for immigration and some against. George Borjas, a professor at Harvard’s Kennedy School, straddles the line. Let us take Borjas’ argument in its entirety. It is important to consider his influential argument as a whole, as the politicians who use it often overlook key points. Most recently, President Trump and Hillary Clinton both paradoxically used parts of his argument to support their positions. What Borjas actually posits is that immigration may have a net zero impact on the economy, instead acting to redistribute wealth from poorer and middle class Americans to immigrants and richer Americans. If this is what is indeed happening, it is an issue. It is an issue, however, that may be rooted more in a lack of education in native workers and injudicious business practices, rather than immigration itself. It is quite possible that removing legal and illegal immigrants from the economy would do nothing to better the economic situation, even worsening it. Following Borjas’ argument, for immigration to generate income redistribution, i) immigrants must be taking jobs that Americans could or would be willing to do in the first place (a net negative impact on working-class Americans and a net positive for immigrants) and ii) immigrants must be cheaper in some way to firms (net positive to the firms, creating more wealth in the economy but distributing it to the employers rather than American workers). The first point is up for debate. One is unsure that many Americans would indeed do the work that some

immigrants do, no matter what the pay. In addition, many American workers aren’t skilled enough to perform the tasks certain firms need, making immigrant labor necessary. The need for improvements in the American education system – for all students, regardless of race, geographic location or income level—is clear. No country should blame immigrants for a poor education system. Asking immigrants to leave will not magically make workers more skilled or certain jobs more desirable. In fact, having immigrants fill such positions is better for the American economy in the interim. It also provides economic opportunity for immigrants – which, honestly, why not provide opportunity to others, especially if at no expense to the country itself. I will address one of the recently cited social expenses of immigration in the second half of this essay. For now, the focus remains on economics. The second point of the economic anti-immigration argument—that immigrants are cheap labor and therefore redistribute wealth from the working class to already rich Americans—seems to be the crux of the economic issue. Immigration wouldn’t be as much of an economic problem if firms reinvested their extra earnings into the local economy to generate jobs. If firms themselves were more conscious and desired to help their own economies, they would hire immigrant labor judiciously and outsource judiciously. Part of the problem is firms that consider their bottom line to be more important than their impact on society. On a related note, even consumers who can afford to buy more socially conscious products often choose cheaper products, at the cost of workers’ wages. In fact, consumer practices incentivize firms’ injudiciousness. We, as buyers, are to blame as well. Removing the means (ie. immigrant labor and outsourcing) used to propagate an issue (ie. indiscriminate business practices) does not remove the issue itself. A lack of social consciousness on firms’ and consumers’ parts cannot be bettered by asking immigrants to leave...the problem will just morph into something else. We—I mean nations around the world, including France and Britain – are being lazy in blaming underlying social issues on immigration. It is easy but rarely productive to use a scapegoat, but that is what we are unfortunately seeing. Economics aside, one must also consider the effects of immigration in their entirety. The whole picture is much more than just economics. What I don’t think many Americans on the anti-immigration side see is that immigration provides true diversity and the opportunity for natives to learn and grow socially and intellectually. Along with a lack of formal education, many pockets in this country (and in many countries) lack an informal education in respecting and appreciating diversity—be it in religion, race, background or even country of origin. This lack of appreciation extends within American society itself, between African Americans, Asians and Caucasians; Christians and Muslims, you name it.

in society… an attitude of acceptance rather than of hatred or simple “tolerance.” Tolerance is often used as a euphemism for entertaining another person without truly accepting him or her; a very sad thing. Speaking of tolerance and acceptance and a lack thereof, a currently cited point in the anti-immigration argument is that “immigrants bring crime and/ or terrorism.” This is a misguided and shortsighted claim. From having worked in crime and poverty-high neighborhoods in the US, I have seen that poverty and its complications, a lack of opportunity, and/ or ostracism cause crime in communities, regardless of immigrant status. If America wants to stop crime, it should address the roots of the issue. Moreover, in terms of “immigrants bringing terrorism”, I grew up in the Middle East, before and during America’s “war on terror” in Iraq and neighboring countries. What I have experienced is that hatred, poverty and a lack of education cause terrorism, rather than race, country or religion. America needs to re-evaluate its way of understanding terrorism and crime, take a preventative stance on the issues, rather excluding certain immigrants as potential terrorists or criminals. As it stands now, immigration is unfortunately not being viewed through the correct lens in this country. This is causing problems for everyone, immigrants and Americans included. At this juncture in time, I would encourage all those who have the option to do so to find and stay in pockets of the country where they are welcome. I would encourage those staying in less open-minded parts of this country and those who persist in immigrating to the US to grit their teeth and withstand the times as best they can – and maybe even try to educate those with a lack of tolerance (treading warily). I would encourage all those with the power to do so to speak with the voice of reason in this debate, joining together as united fronts. Lastly, I would encourage this country to really question its views on immigration and ask if there aren’t actually underlying biases at hand; biases that are hiding more salient issues desperately in need of attention. Hopefully a level-headed discourse on immigration will be possible soon. A discourse in which all sides—left, middle, right...—are willing to speak and listen, rather than each calling the other fools. Until then, we can say that the American view on immigration is occupying liminal space, just as the many people affected by it. This is an unfortunate circumstance for all involved, especially for those whose lives and families depend on it. Reference Borjas, G.J. (2016, September/October) "Yes, Immigration Hurts American Workers."

One of the best ways to build respect and an appreciation for diversity is through exposure. In the spirit of broadening one’s mind and in learning to live in harmony with others, immigration should be considered a blessing rather than a curse, especially in a fast globalizing world. If immigration is viewed through the correct lens, it can be a tool to help unite countries as it increases residents’ appreciation for diversity and engenders an attitude shift

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**This is a letter to that guy that told me that my friend wasn’t a “real” Mexican because he wasn’t born in Mexico** Dear Guy,

Patria aquí

Images by Enrique Montoya

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I want to tell you something. I wanted to tell you the very same day it happened, but I didn’t have the words to tell you then. I still don’t know if I have the words to tell you now, but I’m going to try. You’re extremely misinformed and biased. You think that just because someone wasn’t born in their country of origin, they are not enough to lay claim to an unhyphenated term. Well I’m going to tell you something. I call myself Dominican. I was born in the beautiful island of Hispañola, but I left at the age of 6 or 7. Honestly, I don’t even remember. That’s how young I was. I have been living in the U.S. for more than 15 years, yet I still call myself Dominican, but it’s definitely not because I was born there. Honestly, I know that Dominican no longer defines me. Culturally, I am American. Yes, I have traces of my Dominican heritage, but it’s not the same as me having lived there throughout my life and then moving here to study at Penn. Despite this separation, I still call myself Dominican. I should probably call myself Dominican-American. However, I don’t. Do you want to know why; Do you even care to know why? (I hope you do) I call myself Dominican because that Dominican blood still courses through my veins. Whether I was born in DR or in the U.S. that Platano Power, that Sazón, that Bachata y Merengue Típico cannot be erased. You cannot erase that, I will never erase that, and no one can tell me otherwise. No matter how many years removed I am from my motherland, no matter how long my children are away from their motherland, they will know their history, they will know their roots and no matter how hard they try, being born in America will not change where they come from, who they are. They will be Dominican, not Dominican-American. So Guy, please keep quiet, please keep your opinions to yourself. If the friend I introduce you to tells you he is Mexican, believe him. You do not have the authority to strip him of his heritage. You do not have the authority to say what is authentic. Even if he was not born there, who are you to tell him who he his, how he identifies or how he was raised. Let him tell you, do not assume what a “real Mexican” is from your prejudiced views. Being something is not about how others perceive you, it’s about how you perceive yourself, who you come from, and what you know. Sincerely,

An annoyed acquaintance

Nuestra lucha política Written by Romer Beato

Many in the Latinx community here have a natural inclination for understanding the meaning of la lucha: it is the struggle they go through as immigrants. Our struggle is marked by our immigrant families pushing forward for a better life by migrating to a country where they don’t even speak the language, or perhaps by being a poor and first generation student in an enormously privileged school. Although our parents or grandparents may have been unaware of larger political patterns, the complexity of migration, and their own countries’ politics, as students we have the tools in front of us to see that there are collective stories of la lucha. We have the privilege of drawing upon these realities to inspire us to fight, not just for a better life for ourselves, but for our communities, and all communities facing hardship. The people of Latin American are, above all, a people unified by their colonial history. No other marker—race, skin color, language, or borders—serves as the unifying identity of what it means to be Latinx. We are a people created in the process of struggle, like that of the Haitian revolution led by the likes of Toussaint L’Ouvertoure and other black slaves. The birth of what was to become Latin America started with the most massive slave rebellion in the history of the world, when black slaves in Haiti freed themselves from their French colonial oppressors in 1804. That revolution serves as a lesson of identity for what it means to be Latinx not only for Latinx people, but for black folks in the US as well. This was the same Haitian revolution that then helped inspire, educate, train, and assist Simon Bolivar, one of the foremost figures that represents a people with a shared history. Haiti helped Bolivar and his troops translate the anti-colonial struggle to South America with the purpose of smashing the chains the rest of Europe had on Latin America. In the words of the late author Eduardo Galeano, we are part of the “open veins of Latin America”. The veins that produce the sweat of black and indigenous labor that make our shirts or pick our fruits. Veins that produced the blood of our people—killed in the hundreds of slave rebellions and campesino uprisings that abound in our history, and killed resisting the military dictatorships that enveloped Latin America throughout the 20th century. The same veins from which flowed those who sought out dreams of a better future for themselves and their family in the US, by escaping dictatorships or economic hopelessness. The irony for the Latinx diaspora in the US is that most of the

policies and dictatorships that created our community of economic and political refugees, were funded, supported, or even created by the US itself. Operation Condor, the financing of rightwing military dictatorships, the military training for violence and torture at the School of the Americas in Georgia that many of our dictators knew very well, to the Washington Consensus and free trade agreements that exploit ‘cheap’ Latin American labor and resources. These policies lead to what journalist Juan Gonzalez calls the “Harvest of Empire”. We are morally responsible to learn from this history—our history—especially in the age of Trump. Fighting against harmful US policies at home and abroad is an integral part of the history of Latin America. Domestically Latinx people stand with other minorities against the militarization of law enforcement, detention of people in private prisons, and subjection to constant surveillance for those legally vulnerable and those of us who challenge injustice. With local police becoming agents for immigration enforcement, our struggle becomes fundamentally connected with that of black people in this country, as we too are rendered unsafe by the people who swear to protect us. Whispers of fascism spread with the rise of such a reprehensible president and the mafia he represents, and Latinx people are the first to confront the government forces that raid houses in the middle of the night to capture and detain people. Even under the Obama administration our community was the first in line to be persecuted in what could become the most sinister forces of the government; forces which bear resemblance to the dictatorships and right wing paramilitary groups in Latin America that have historically disappeared people and continue to do so. As a disproportionately poor community in the US, we also struggle everyday against an economic system that pays workers only enough for the next workday, exploits our countries’ resources and labor, and creates the millions of economic refugees that have fled to this country. Understanding colonialism is a requirement for understanding the history of our establishment, but understanding capitalism is a requirement for understanding the history of our development. Latin America consists of countries that have consistently been the most unequal in the world, where institutional corruption has stolen and exported more wealth than almost anywhere else. In recent decades, both major political parties in the US had a hand in creating an exploding wealth gap here that now surpasses even that of Latin America. We are a people that know that while massive wealth is produced by our countries, it isn’t going to the rural schools of Oaxaca, Mexico or the favelas of Rio in Brazil – just like it isn’t going to our

public schools of the South Bronx in New York City or East LA. We can learn fundamental lessons about the struggle for economic justice our people have had from our past, and ongoing struggles all over the Region. Our history of collective political struggle and resistance can and should fill us with hope and pride, especially given that every country in Latin America has a history we can learn from. We have to integrate our individual lucha with the collective, as we have a responsibility and an opportunity to learn from the wisdom not only of the valiant efforts for our equality in the US, but of the centuries of struggle of our peoples all over Latin America. We cannot let being in the US disconnect from history—our history—our lucha. Our future will depend on it.

Untitled

Image by Ana Barrera

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Latinx Heritage Identidad / Identity Who are you? That is the basic question that my North Philadelphia and Colombia attempt to answer in this exhibition. It might seem like a simple question at first but once you stop and think about it for a minute you realize how difficult it really is. We are more than just individuals; we are part of a greater community and culture that helps us identify who we are. Also, each of us has a different idea of what those cultural traits are and interpret them differently. Now, try to describe who you are with just images and no words and you see what the task was like for my students. This exhibition is a selection of the best images taken by my Shutterbugs from John B. Stetson Charter School in North Philadelphia and youth I taught this past summer in the Colombian cities of Cali, Bucaramanga, Manizales, and MedellĂn. My students used a variety of photographic processes from pinhole photography to traditional 35mm black and white to digital to capture intimate and meaningful images focusing on who they are and what is important to them. Many of these photographs begin to tell stories that are not just about the photographers themselves but are powerful commentaries on society as a whole. I welcome the viewers of this exhibition to enter the world of our youth today and experience it as they do. Tony Rocco Executive Director Photography Without Borders

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The Shutterbugs program

teaches youth how to tell their stories with photographs using a multidisciplinary approach, which features leadership development and career pathways in the arts or related fields. Currently the program runs out of John B. Stetson Middle School in North Philadelphia but we will soon be launching a new program at Olney High School. Both programs teach students traditional Black and White photographic processes in a real darkroom along with digital photography and video.

Month Presents:

Karen Lorena Pereiraâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;Bucaramanga, Colombia

The Shutterbugs

Cristina Alvarez—Medillín, Colombia

Eva Mendez—Swenson High School, Philadelphia

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Laura Lamus Gamboa—Medillín, Colombia

LA VIDA | LA LUCHA 17 Johnathon Gonzalez —Edison High School, Philadelphia

Mujeres

Written by Yareqzy Munoz The oil in my fingerprints pressed into the crisp pages of Don Quixote, as my sisters and I rested in the living room. Once a week, we perched on the couch with our fingers, like branches, laced over a book. It distracted us from our overbearing summer schedules and satisfied a passion we have. We read as the air conditioner presented itself as a white noise, one we used as a blanket to accompany the frigid text. After every hour, we lifted our heads, bookmarked the page with our fingers and brought up an interesting character, word, or scene that caught our attention. My sister, Karen, ended the conversation; “I just wanna keep reading.” We smiled, pulled the humming of the air conditioner over us, and dove into the words. Cervantes embraced me; I forced myself to read the original text, as opposed to the translation, imagining his pen move across the paper as I interpreted his style. A sudden knock on the door. My father. Home. Yaxeny placed the book face down on the table and pulled open the door. My father walked in, quickly saw the leftovers from the dinner he missed, and jerked his head away from the scene. “Cuatro mujeres en esta casa, y todavía está sucia,” my father branded into the hippocampus of my brain; “Four women in this house and it’s still dirty.” I’d like to think that the void of sleep, standing for sixteen hours, or the drive home had resulted in the repulsion present in his face. Maybe it really was that my sisters and I had not picked up the dishes from the table. It was in this state of aversion that he declared the misogynistic phrase my sisters and I would use as a frame of reference for how the world perceives us. If our father saw us in this way, why wouldn’t everyone else? The silence could be heard from the train stop

a block away. We looked at each other and could not meet our father’s gaze. This wasn’t new to us. My household is sprayed with the Latino doctrine that leashes women to the men of the house. My sisters and I had been confined to providing for the household, as my older brothers were freed into the grassy fields of manhood. I looked over at Yaxeny; she had picked up her book and was entwined in the white noise. I picked up my book and began to see Cervantes crafting his text. Karen saw me and began to read, as if we had just finished a discussion. After a pause, my father turned his back to us and walked into his bedroom. Yaxeny whispered, “If I were to write a book, it would be about a girl who has to accomplish twice as much as her brother to be appreciated for half of her intelligence,” her eyes still pressed on her book. We pulled the sheet of noise off of our bodies and sat up.

El mercado I

When I Was Young Written by Alfred "Red" Joseph III

Someone I loved told me I was perfect. Dark-skinned and fearful, I carried a smile Of doubt. Yesterday, the blue lights covered me during my walk. It is said yellow is the color of fear. When I was a sophomore, homecoming, my date declined my dance. When I grew, I reached for a star-spangled wrist and was turned down for pairs of stars barred on board shorts. "In my younger and more vulnerable years," I spent the night at my cousins'. Carpet-clung, we turned off Disney Channel to confuse the bullets. It was not too long before we buried. Do you measure your years in deaths? While I was young, I hoped To die. Sometimes, like my cousins. But then I would never know the end of Harry Potter. So I lived and hoped For a do-over.

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Collection Sara Ramirez

it’s a fake... it’s a fraud

Written by Juan Cabrera, Alba Disla, Camill Fernandez, Marcella Marquez, and Karina Romero educating the brown crayon

justice for lettuce

broken stares in america

I grimace every time she takes attendance I cringe as she gets closer and closer to my name I cut her off Before the second syllable even departs from her lips— ‘Here’ We both move on

We work the land because the land feeds us They took our land and now they need us

I told myself I wouldn’t break ... Because they broke my father. His nose, Crooked from fights. His teeth, false— An occupational hazard. A correctional officer Brought six others, Correcting the paperwork took time. —— I told myself I wouldn’t break … Because they broke my mother. Even though, they couldn’t find her. She stayed in the house Like she thought mothers should do And for that, I’m eternally grateful. Her hands sore from all the washing— An occupational hazard. Correcting the paperwork Took time. —— I fold myself into tiny pieces ... Every crease Waiting to be broken. Paper pieces of humility, Half of us are not legitimate. They left everything for us The hot spells of laughter, Warm embraces, Familiar—

I twiddle my thumbs and look out at the sky Instead of crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s I’m still thinking about my name I’m trying to mouth it in my best gringo accent But my tongue feels weighed down and my jaw is stiff Stiff like the air that sits in this overcrowded classroom, Stiff like my shoulders every time the police stalk down the hallways El pendejo Ay perdon, el puerco Would mess up my coloring Every time I’d try to stay between the lines He’d slam the lockers and I’d flinch and mess up How is she supposed to teach me When she isn’t willing to learn from me isn’t willing to loosen her jaw roll her tongue And show the class her best wetback accent.

Funny isn’t it, how they make us come over? This land was ours you know? Nuestra tierra. They invaded it. Así nomas. Y por 15,000,000 de dólares compraron nuestras almas, Now we come out of necessity—ours or theirs The work gets hard when it’s really hot outside It’s hard not to drink the water for the crops Especialmente para los chicos, les da mucha sed But if the boss sees he’ll only give you half pay It happened to Armando’s son first, He landed on the lettuce. Wasn’t back for three days. Luego fue Tomás. Y después Roberto. Finally, the boss put up a drinking station Three drinks a day. That’s all we got. Esta dura la situacion 12 hours a day. 90 cents an hour. That’s why we all live together Para echarnos una mano. That is why I want my son to stay in school, So his life will be better than ours. I often feel like giving up, Regresar a Mexico, But this is my family’s home now Y esta tierra nos necesita. We work the land because the land feeds us They took our land and look how they need us.

El mercado II

They lost their family. … I gained a new one From the old A different one An impossible one To have existed in that land One that could only be Caressed here Brought up here Without a doubt Existing as one unit— We survived here Because my parents were broken Torn in half by the Blood they carry, Only to mend it with The blood they gave us.

Collection Sara Ramirez

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Lake Titicaca: A Children’s Immigration Story Written by Joselyn Calderon

Cast of Characters PAPITA

youngest brother, the baby of the family, no older than first grade, has his head in the clouds

MANITO

second youngest brother, shares strong connection to all the siblings, used to be the baby, tries to navigate the role of older brother to PAPITA

MANO

oldest brother, feels responsible for younger siblings, no older than middle school aged, shares strong kinship with MANA

LADY

works at an immigration law firm, on edge and at a loss with what to do with the children, they intimidate her as much as she does them

MAMA or MOM

PAPA or DAD

MANA

VECINITO

VECINITA

Three boys walk in from offstage wearing backpacks and sweaters tied around their waists. PAPITA mouths along to a song playing on a phone. He almost trips but MANO catches him. MANO sighs and stoops to tie PAPITA’s shoelaces. PAPITA: (singing) Como dice el chorus cabrones, Immigrants we get the job done MANITO: Mom and dad are gonna get mad at you if they hear you sing that at home. MANO: Mom and dad won’t care, he’s the baby. Besides, the music is on my phone, I’d get in trouble not either of you. PAPITA: yeah, everyone loves me. Anyways, it’s the same kind of music you listen to. MANITO: Yeah, but my music is in English, it has bad words but they’re too fast. MANO: Fuck is fuck in English or Spanish dumbass. MANO and PAPITA laugh at MANITO who rolls his eyes and continues walking. Enter LADY walking towards MANITO LADY: Hey, kids!

mother, undocumented homemaker, endlessly making her house a home for her family, seems to be worn out by life and nervous under her calm demeanor

MANO gets up from kneeling position in front of PAPITA and goes to stand in front of his two brothers and pushes them backwards a little MANITO takes PAPITAS hand and angles himself between MANO and PAPITA. All of these movements are smooth and should be as subtle as possible, they need to come naturally to the actors.

father, undocumented construction worker, proud of the family he has helped raise here in the states, seems worn out by life but content

MANO: (defiantly) Whatdya want? LADY: (taken aback by MANO’s tone) Uh, your parents sent me to pick you up from school, I’m sorry I’m late.

oldest sister, college educated aspiring to help her community, seems wise beyond her years young neighbor boy, no older than first grade young neighbor girl, no older than first grade

MANO looks around himself as if looking for an escape or another adult. MANO: We don’t know you LADY: Oh come on now. You do know me, remember? (somewhat desperately) You guys saw me at the office building across from the library. Your parents were there. I met you, Papita. All characters onstage spin around humming the twilight zone theme. MANO and MANITO plop to the floor and pull out their homework. PAPITA plays on a portable game console. MAMA and PAPA appear from offstage talking to LADY. They are sitting on chairs brought out by stage hands behind the boys. LADY has her back to the boys and they have their backs to her. They sound like the adults from Peanuts cartoons. PAPITA turns off the game and sighs for an exaggerated amount of time. MANO stifles a giggle. PAPITA: I hate coming here, it’s so boring. Why do we even come? Why can’t we just go home? MANITO: Shhhh! Maybe if we behave ourselves, mom and dad will take us to McDonald’s for Happy Meals. PAPITA: Why would they do that? MANITO: They’ve been here ALLLLLL day, they’re bored, they haven’t had time to go home. Mom hasn’t made food.

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MANO: Yeah, but that also means mom probably is gonna make eggs and frijoles fritos. PAPITA: I hate eggs! MANITO: So then portate bien so we can go to McDonalds. PAPITA: (whines) But I’m hungry now!!! MANO: Ask mom for quarters, there are candy machines here. PAPITA: (smiling with the realization) Oh yeah! MANO and MANITO continue their work while PAPITA goes to get quarters. PAPITA keeps back to Lady the entire time as he pantomimes asking MAMA for money. He returns to his brothers. Everyone spins around humming the Twilight Zone theme. PAPITA: I don’t remember you. LADY: (runs hands through hair frustrated and wanting to get the kids moving. Suddenly she remembers something) Oh!! When your Mama and Papa told me to pick you up they gave me the code word. It’s— Spinning and humming happens again PAPITA and LADY spin offstage MAMA and PAPA spin onto the stage, so does a girl who is around college age but wearing pigtails and looking like a little girl, her name is MANA. They sit around on the floor around the chairs which serve as a couch now. Mana has a geography textbook open. The family is laughing and looking out towards the audience as if watching TV PAPA: they chose a funny word but it’s not a bad idea. MAMA: What do you mean? PAPA: La clave que tienen los hermano en este capitulo. It seems to help communicate safety. MAMA: (to the children) Maybe we should come up with one for our family. That way in case there is an emergency and neither me ni tu Pa los puede recoger de la escuela MANA: ni si yo los puedo recoger. MANO: You can’t even drive yet. MANA: Watch me not give you a ride when I can. MAMA: Watch me not let you learn to drive. MANO and MANITO: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! MANA: Anyways, if neither me ni tu pa ni Mana in the future, can pick you up, we will tell the person we send the special word we come up with. Only get into the car of people who know this word. No me importa si son los vecinos, tu abuelo, ni tu madrina. If they don’t say the word you can’t go. PAPA: I think that’s a good idea. That way you guys can stay safe in case of an emergency. MANA: Also that way we can’t get kidnapped like in the movie we watched last weekend. MAMA: Ay, don’t remind me. Andales, cual palabra quieren usar? PAPA: You guys should choose a word that you guys like, and know how to say and that isn’t common that way strangers can’t guess what it is.

MANITO goes into a fit of giggling and pulls at MANO’s shirt they both start to laugh loudly. PAPA: (good-naturedly) Qué les pico? MANO: Tell her Mana, we want to use the lake. MANA looks confused. The boys point to textbook. MANA looks down and smiles. MANA: The lake as the password???? Oh my god, no, it’s so weird. PAPA: What Lake? MANA: Okay, before they say anything, I only taught them about the lake cuz I thought it was funny and— MANITO: LAKE TITICACA!!!

MAMA: Yes, but you have to keep it a secret, you can’t let anyone outside the family know about it, it’s like a family secret. Yo y tu pa lo necesitamos para asegurar que you don’t accept rides from strangers. No matter who it is, never accept a ride from anyone who isn’t me or your dad and they don’t say this word. Not your grandpa, not your tia, not your cousins, not los vecinos, no one. If we can’t pick you up, we’ll give them the clave. okay? ALL THE KIDS: okay. Everyone spins around LADY comes back MAMA and MANA leave. Two more chairs are brought out. Stage hands arrange chairs so it’s like a car.

They start to spin around MAMA and PAPA spin offstage taking the textbook with them. PAPITA spins back onstage. MANA removes bows. The siblings all plop down on the floor around the couch where now only MANA sits.

LADY: It’s Lake Titicaca. The boys laugh and then get serious. MANO: Okay, we’ll come with you.

MANA: Alright, it’s time we induct Papita into the secrets, he’s old enough to take this seriously. MANO: Yup, you get to know the secret word now. PAPITA: Secret word? MANA: If one day, someone who isn’t mom or dad wants to give you a ride home, they have to say this word. MANITO: If they don’t know it, they want to kidnap you and you have to run away, OUCH MANA: Don’t scare him! PAPITA: I’m not scared! MANO: It’s not only for preventing kidnappers. It’s also for when mom and dad need to have us get picked up by someone who isn’t them. PAPITA: Okay, I understand. What’s the secret word. MANITO: Can I tell him please? MANA: Okay MANITO: Lake… Titicaca! PAPITA: (gasps and mouth opens wider and wider) YOU SAID TWO BAD WORDS I’M TELLING MANITO: It’s not a bad word! It’s a lake in Mexico! MANA: Peru MANO: Bolivia MANITO: Whatever, Mana taught us about it before you were born. PAPITA: MOM, MOM MOM

MANITO: What do you think happened. MANO: I don’t know. MANITO: Remember that time when Mana came back and we got to stay home because she could watch us

MAMA walks back onstage with a dish and dishtowel in hand. MAMA: Papita, it’s not a bad word, it’s exactly what Mana said, they chose it before you were born. Now we need to tell you about it so you can be safe too and know the secret. PAPITA: but is the word really Lake Titicaca?

Brothers sit in the back row of the ‘car’, LADY sits at the front driving.

Brothers spin and move the driver’s seat towards center stage, MANA spins onstage to replace the LADY. MANO, MANITO and PAPITA are all jumping around the room playing ‘The Floor is Lava’. MANA is sitting in one of the chairs reading a tome of a book. MANO goes over to MANA, MANO: Whatcha reading? MANA: It’s a book about immigration MANO: Like mom and dad? MANA: yeah, my professor told me she thought it was an interesting read. It’s pretty good. PAPITA: Like a story? Read us a story. MANA: Okay, go bring me one. PAPITA: No, read this one. MANA: Okay, but it might be boring. PAPITA: then why are you reading it. Is it for school? MANITO: no, it’s because she’s boring. MANA: exactly. But I can still read it to you, (she folds over the corner of the page she is on and flips back to the beginning of the book.) A long time ago, when California was part of Mexico and neither you, nor I, nor this book even existed— Phone rings. MANA goes to pick it up leaving the book on the chair. She goes offstage. Papita picks up the book. PAPITA: I don’t think Mana actual-

ly knows how to read, this doesn’t say ‘book’ anywhere. MANO and MANITO smile at each other. They know from experience how to respond MANO: Mana is in college, you really think she doesn’t know how to read? MANITO: Yeah, besides, that’s a college book. College books are different. They’re a little magical. PAPITA: Magic? Yeah right. I’m not a baby anymore. MANO: It’s true, Mana can flip to any page in this book and the story will change based on who she’s reading to. When she reads to las primitas the stories are about Mexican princesses who wanted a life outside of princess duties and got to travel with soldiers and help win wars. MANITO: When she reads to me and Mano, it’s about guys whose parents are Mexican but who lived here in America and feel like they don’t belong but made art that came to life and brought them friends from all over. MANO: When she reads to you, we’ll see what kind of story the book says you need. MANA returns from offstage pulling on a sweater, keys in hand. MANA: Okay, put on your sweaters guys, we need to go pick up the kids of la vecina from the next street over. PAPITA: Why? I wanna know what story the book has for me. MANA: Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon, and maybe we can go to the store and get a special treat. MANITO: Wait, why do we have to pick them up? MANA: Their mom and dad have to go somewhere for adults and the kids aren’t allowed to go because it’ll be boring. MANA moves her chair back to the driver’s seat position. A quick driving interlude where the actors ad lib follows. MANA: Stay here, keep your seatbelts on, don’t say anything or open the doors or windows, don’t talk to anyone. PAPITA: why do those police cars say ice? Like ice cubes, ice? MANA: I’ll tell you later. I’ll be right back, Mano, you’re in charge. MANA leaves the car and goes offstage. PAPITA: There isn’t even any snow in California, we don’t need ice policemen. MANITO: Why are they crying? MANO: I don’t know, they look really upset, maybe they really wanted to go wherever their parents are going. Two kids, el VECINITO and la VECINITA enter the car sobbing. And try to squeeze in to the back seat. Papita cov-

ers his ears. MANA: (shakily) Alright mi niños, I’m going to take care of you until your tia and tio can come pick you up. We have some time before they come over to our house. What special treat will make you feel better? MANO: We should give them salt like when Papita got scared by the Chihuahuas down the street. MANA: That’s not what I mean Mano. Here, come sit at the front so that they have more room in the back. MANO moves to the front seat excited to ride shotgun. MANO: Hey, you’re shaking are you cold? PAPITA: Did the ice police men touch you with ice? MANA: No, Mano is right, I’m just a little cold. MANA talks quietly to MANO. MANA: Los vecinitos are really scared right now because ICE is taking their parents. Their parents called their tia but she’s at work and doesn’t have papers either so their tia called mom. Then, mom called me to come get them. We need to watch them until their tia can pick them up. We need to cheer them up or else Papita is going to start crying too and then the car will fill with tears and everyone will drown. MANO: Oh come on, we wouldn’t drown. MANA: You’re right, tears are salty, we’d float. The point is, help me cheer them up. MANO: We can go get ice cream, they like ice cream a lot. They always chase the paletero man MANA: Perfect idea Mano, that’s why you get to sit in the front seat. (towards the backseat) Alright kids, we’re gonna go get some ice cream, what flavor do you want Manito? MANITO: Where are we going? MANA: Let’s go to Baskin Robbins? PAPITA: We never go to Basket Robbins! I want a sundae, are sundaes real? Can we get one please? Like the ones on TV! MANA: Yup, and we can get one for los vecinitos too, what flavor do you guys want? The kids have since calmed down and seem excited about ice cream, everyone stands up spinning and humming. LOS VECINITOS spin offstage, MANA pulls the chair back to center stage. The boys are playing on the floor. MANA: (Towards offstage) Alright, bye kids, goodbye Tia, saludos a su mama. Si me necesitan a cuidar los

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niños regreso al la Universidad el 18. Me llaman! MANA: Alright, come sit down on the couch. I’m going to teach you some stuff okay? MANO: About what? MANA: About what happened to los vecinito’s mom and dad. MANITO: La vecinita said that the police came into the house when her mom opened the door without something called a “war end”. MANA: It’s called a warrant. The policemen who went are called ICE. They are immigration officers. Sometimes they do things like this called a raid. Whenever these police guys come knock on the door, you have to make sure they have a warrant and it has to have the name of the people in the house and signed by a judge. Tell them to slide it under the door or to hold it up to the peephole or a window so you can see it without opening the door. If they don’t have that stuff, don’t let them in if you can help it. MANITO: Like when the church people come by? MANA: Yeah sort of. You also have to remain silent. Don’t say anything that might reveal that mom and dad are undocumented. Nothing in English or in Spanish. If they tell you that you have to speak, tell them you want your lawyer. MANO: I have a lawyer? MANA: Well, you don’t, but mom and dad do. You guys need to remind them to call their lawyer in case they forget. Don’t let them sign ANYTHING! Mom and dad might not understand the weird complicated legal words that they use in the papers ICE wants signed and that sometimes can cause problems, they shouldn’t sign anything until their lawyer arrives. MANITO: What if we forget something or we do all of that and mom and dad still get taken away and we’re left alone? MANA: On the fridge, I’m going to put a piece of paper that has the number for the lawyer and also the number for me and my job. You can call any of those places and tell them you need to get in contact with me, use my full name and tell them why. If this happens though, it’s more likely that since my college is far away, the lawyer will have someone pick you up from school. Don’t forget the password, ALL: Lake titicaca

MANA: Honestly? I don’t know but if they do, at least you guys now know what the plan is. We will do everything that is best for you guys to feel safe too. Mom and dad didn’t know about a lot of these things but because I learned about it, now they know about it and all of you and a lot of the people in the neighborhood now know too. MANO: Wait, I can tell my friends about this stuff too right? MANA: Definitely, tell them to ask their parents to contact either me or an immigrant advocate, attorney or a qualified community agency, like the building across the library called TODEC Legal, it stands for Training Occupational Development Educating Communities. They offer a lot of services for immigrants like classes on English, literacy, and basic computer skill classes along with other things like help preparing for tax season if you’ve never done taxes before, and youth cultural programs like ballet folklorico. Places like these help people learn about their rights as undocumented immigrants too and can help when ICE comes and they are at a loss with what to do next. MANO: That’s why we had to spend so much time there when we were smaller? Because mom and dad were preparing? MANA: Yeah, they were making sure that in case of an emergency or in case la migra takes them away, that at least you guys would be taken care of and they would be able to come home faster. Everyone spins, MANA spins offstage pulling the chair with her back to its position in the ‘car’. LADY reappears onstage and everyone takes their seat on the chairs. MANO: (looking up as if coming back from his thoughts) Wait Lady, where exactly are our parents? Did ICE takeLADY: (tensing up and interrupting MANO) I’d rather wait until we get to the office and have your sister explain. Brothers huddle closer in the backseat and PAPITA begins to cry lightly, lights dim out to black so the only sound you hear are sniffles from PAPITA.

Everyone laughs MANITO: This won’t happen to us though right? Mom and dad are good people. They make sure we go to school and that we do our homework and dad works hard every day and mom cleans the house even if she didn’t make the mess. They won’t take mom and dad away right?

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Las otras leches se murieron Written by Juan Cabrera

Mi madre me contó que Las otras leches se murieron. No aparecieron la otra noche y Nadie las ha visto en el cine. Ojalá mi madre las encuentre Porque dice que las necesita para Sus cereales especiales; Ellos también necesitan un poco de amor. Por favor, si se murieron, ¿Pueden avisar a mi madre Adónde las puede encontrar? Y si alguien sabe cuando se fueron de mi casa O cuando estaban en peligro, Avisenme porque Yo quiero saber Donde estaban las leches podridas. Por si acaso, me pueden Contar por qué se fueron Y en qué modo se escaparon? Porque la última vez que Yo revisé la cocina fue en El instante que mi madre me dijo que Las otras leches se murieron. Una leche sobrevivió. Esa leche tenía sentido.

A 21 year old’s translation guide to his mother Written by Anonymous

I call my mother everyday Laugh or say it’s cute all you want I don’t care.

And in this time I am updated on all the gossip that I’ve missed since yesterday. And if I close my eyes for a second it feels like I’m home

Back in high school I would always come home to a light peeking under my parents’ bedroom door. My mother would always be awake, waiting for me. Translation: I’m worried about you, but I need to give you your space to breath. I never was annoyed by it, but I felt bad. She would be so tired the next day the sheer gravity of her yawning pulling her back to bed. I told her not to wait up, but she never listened. Translation: Don’t tell me what to do.

Whenever I hang up the phone, she lingers on the line for a half second.

When my mother asks, “how’s the weather?” I always look up and describe what I see. Translation: what she’s really asking is how am I weathering the storm that I conjure within myself. When she asks if it’s cold out, she’s asking if I’ve allowed myself to accept the warmth of others. When she asks if it’s windy she’s asking if I am confident and solid enough in myself to not fly off in the winds of my own anxiety. But I never tell her. The first time I went out after coming home from college, I found that my mother had gone to sleep. Translation: you’re home now, I’ve missed you.

I cannot fool her. I can lie about my depression to myself, but she doesn’t have to see my face to know. She only needs to listen to the breath escape from between my lips. I say I’m fine, just tired, but Translation: I really just mean I’m tired. It’s calm out mom, I say over the wind, but I cannot fool her—she can hear the hurricane through the phone. Tomorrow I will call my mother and I may or may not tell her that last night I wrote a poem for a group of strangers and friends about her, depends on the weather. But I know that when I fly home, she will pick me up from the airport, she will caress my face with her weathered hands and say, ay mijo. Translation: I see the erosion of the storm on the lines on your face. She will make the sign of the cross, kiss me on the forehead and tell me to get some sleep. That night I will sleep with my bedroom light on.

I call my mother every day

La Vida Negra Sara Ramirez

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Telling the Truth in Quechua Ama suwa | Ama llulla | Ama qella Don't steal

Don't lie

Don't be lazy

Quechua is the language of the Andes,

and the former Incan Empire, currently with about 8 million speakers. The Quechua proverb above is one that the Incan people lived by long ago and also to this day.

Why is it such a struggle to tell the truth? What does it mean to lie? How is it so important to the Quechua language? Quechua makes the distinction between various shades of the truth, or at least what people perceive to be the truth. Each distinction colors the language with honesty and integrity. Quechua is an agglutinating language meaning that suffixes are used to change the meanings of words. Below are examples of just how to use these evidential, or truth-bearing suffixes.These suffixes are based on three kinds of evidence: direct, conjectural, and reportative.

Direct -mi

Pa r a s h a n m i (I know) It's raining

Â´ Conjectural -cha

P a r a s h a n c h aÂ´ (I think) It's raining

Reportative -si

Pa r a s h a n s i (They say) It's raining

For more information about the Quechua Program at Penn, visit: web.sas.upenn.edu/quechua/

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DEAF

LATINX:

INFORMATION FOR THE HEARING

PRESENTED in ASL BY JUAN CABRERA, ENRIQUE MONTOYA, AND CARLOS CARMONA

do you

did you

know

a deaf

know

sign

they vary BY COMMUNITY: ecuador | mexico | puerto rico

THEY CAN BE

TRILINGUAL IN THE U.S. ASL |SPANISH | ENGLISH

latinx

languages

vary

did you

know

SPANISH ,

deaf ,

check

deaf

latinxs

and HEARING culture ,

your

to learn more about the asl program at Penn, visit: plc.sas.upenn.edu/asl

experience oppression

all three

from

hearing

privilege

to become more involved, join penn in hand, Penn's Premiere ASL and Deaf Culture Group

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Hellf ire

Image by Juan Cabrera

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¿ CUÁL ES TU LUCHA?

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WHAT IS YOUR STRUGGLE?

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on faith in the Latinx

JuanCabrera Diego

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community

Guadalupe Ceja

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on faith

in the Latinx community With the European colonization upon the indigenous people of the Latin world, religion, specifically Christianity, spread. Assimilation and conquest tamed the tongues and faiths throughout the newly conquered lands. That legacy has endured, with much of Latinx culture revolving around religion and spirituality. It is seen in telenovelas, in movies, and in the language of family members. While Christianity has guided most of the religious history in Latinx communities, it does not hold a monopoly. The diversity in religious views and the strength of those views challenge the history and cultural norms of Latinx communities. The heterogeneity of Latinx religious views affects experiences and the individual journey of faith, or lack thereof. This diversity is only the beginning of a discussion of faith and spirituality in the Latinx community.

Meditation of a Godless Mexican Written by Alexa Salas

I was raised in a secular home—no church on Sundays, no prayers before dinner, and no images paying homage to la Virgen María gracing the walls of our living room. Apart from being baptized as a baby, I’ve only ever attended church as a favor to, and at the insistence of, my devoutly Catholic abuelitas. Until now, I’ve thought little about how my lack of religion frames, intersects, and conflicts with my Latinidad. As a first-generation Mexican-American, I’ve grown up in what has often felt like a culture dominated by Catholicism and a society founded on Christianity. I’ve never fully connected with the church-centered values and traditions of my Mexican heritage, or the references to “God” woven into the social and institutional fabric of American life. Aside from my family, I’ve met few self-identified Mexican atheists. For most of my life I’ve guarded this personal truth, not out of shame, but out of fear of being stereotyped in a society that overwhelming validates religious ideology, but seldom recognizes a lack thereof. Even today, I find it difficult to talk about my beliefs openly, as if it were taboo to say the “a” word in public.

Virgen de Quito Image by Juan Cabrera

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I don’t believe that religion is a precondition to having a kind heart and an open mind. So I suppose this personal essay is a sort of “coming out.” I am affirming a reality that has always been and will continue to be part of who I am. In doing so, I can begin to genuinely appreciate the contributions of religion in my world and wholly embrace the colorful intricacies of my Latinidad.

JehovĂĄ Es Mi Pastor Written by Melissa Perez

Accepting my religion has not been easy. I grew up in a household where God is first in your life and your family is second. I fought with the idea for a long time, refusing to believe that if such a God existed, He would allow me to grow up in poverty or let innocent people die at the hands of illness and war. But as I got older, I began to realize that I am not capable of understanding the way God works. But I do know that He has the best plan in store for me. In the face of hate, discrimination, and adversity, I am stronger because I know that I am loved, accepted, and forgiven by the most high God. I believe my faith has made me a better Latina because of this. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve never felt like my religion has had any adverse effects on my Latinidad. Growing up as a Christian, my dad instilled in me that the most important teaching of Christ is to love everyone equally, regardless of race, gender, sexuality, or any other identification. I fight harder for equality because I know that God made us all in His image. My ethnicity and my religion go hand in hand and make up the foundation for who I am today.

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HOW TO DATE A WHITE BOY WRITTEN BY CAROL SANDOVAL Your mother has told you too many times. Do not rely on a boy—any boy—for your happiness. And don’t let them determine your idea of success. Tu eres unica. Your abuelita and tias, on the other hand, encourage you to date a specific type of man—Hispano y católico. You don’t mind their advice. There are no white boys, black boys, Asian boys in your town anyway. But when you leave el barrio, that you began to notice that different perks come with the different types of men. There’s a type of man for it all. You meet the black boys, brown boys, Asian boys and the notorious white boys. Oh yes, those quickly catch your attention. The ones in business school. On the baseball team. In the club in search of something spicy. Luckily for you, you are as spicy as un chile Habanero. You are a feisty Latina with a heart of gold. You impress them with your native tongue. They beg you to speak to them in Spanish. And to fuel their appetite with an enchilada dinner. Or to show them the sexual swing of Latina hips. Little does he know you are a sad excuse as a Latina dancer and that these Latina hips were formed by lifting bandejas llenas de uvas. But he doesn’t have to know that. Ignorance is bliss; and the fun is just beginning! You go back to his place and when you finally make it home the next morning, your social circle will sit waiting, glowing with excitement to hear about your adventures. Is he good? Well kind of, but not as smooth as Hector. His lips are too small. But dinner was nice. The conversation wasn’t too great. But the after-party was fun. He thinks you’re a sexual savage, and although you might be, you didn’t let him see that side of you—you’d feel too overpowering. He has nice skin. Dewy. Clear. White. As your stories unfold, your girls will radiate with jealousy because no white boy has ever admired their curly hair or mocha brown skin. As I sit on the couch, listening carefully to his sarcastic smirks about the marches, I try my best not to smirk with pity. This the first time that it’s not the news sending chills down my spine. He genuinely does not comprehend racial nor ethnic equality. Nor feminism. Vacancy. I wonder if he has noticed that my mind has drifted to analyzing his sense of privilege. I look

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over as he pretends to watch the screen. I know he is thinking thoroughly of his next move on you. Just go with it. Pretend to watch the TV. You’d much rather watch Marimar, but here you are, watching Die Hard because it’s a “classic”. After a fair amount of Sutter Home moscato, the façade will shatter. Your values, needs, desires surface. La familia. la chamba. Las tradiciones will all flare up within you and you can’t help but explode. Catechism trained you to be a professional confessor. He’ll listen to you rant, quietly sigh, and claim to understand. No he doesn’t. He will whine that white families don’t have culture or traditions like yours does. It must be so fun, he’ll say. His comments are suffocating. This relationship would never work and we both know that. You’d be stupid if you actually believed that he would like a girl like you. And he’d be stupid if he thought you’d settle for someone like him. Why is this harder than you imagined? Because he provides both financial and social security. Two things you’ve never had. He has given you an identity that is worthy to others. You’re afraid of regressing to your old status. Insignificant, discouraged, beat-down. This is the hangover of dating a white boy. During the night, your phone will flash with a message. He’ll ask if you’re still up. Don’t reply. You are not a sexual object. You have dreams and aspirations bigger than his ego. This is for You. You’ve made it this far. You don’t need him -- he won’t help. This is for You. Call your grandma and tell her that she was somewhat right. Hispano y católico. But not right now. This is for You.

con Las Mujeres Empoderadas Mujeres Empoderadas (M.E.) supports students at the University of Pennsylvania who identify as Latina and/or Hispanic. We are a safe space inclusive to women who identify with the Latina and/or Hispanic cultural experience. Our mission is to encourage dialogue surrounding issues affecting Latina and/or Hispanic women and provide them with the opportunity to share experiences, advice, and support. Above all we seek to strengthen and empower the women in our community. is a La Vida signature series to promote and support our Latina hermanas and those who identify with Latina identity. This year's series is dedicated to the neverending hair struggle by Latinas as well as others who know the importance of this issue.

Danielle CaĂąo-Garraway

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Luisa Gabriela Juarez

Connected with Older Energies Written by Luisa Gabriela Juarez

It likes to stay fluffy for most of the time, except for those beautiful and capricious moments when it decides to settle down for a bit. It stays up because it knows that it is connected with greater, older energies. It stays up because it knows that it should honor years and years of history that are left over in its roots. It should honor that moment when Indigenous, thick, curly hair mixed with Spanish, thin, lighter hair—a type of cotton-like almohada, as my mother endearingly calls it—was created. It laughs when it sees other humans disheveling theirs to create more volume; it laughs because it knows that it can do that without the help, because it is free, and independent, and thick and strong, and as hard as I try, I can’t put it down. I don’t want to put it down.

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Marcella Marquez

Loud like the volume of my hair â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Tiffany Dominguez

Sara Ramirez

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Hannah Wied

No somos ninguna Bequi con el pelo bueno â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Alba Disla

Andreina Lamas

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Hair-itage

Written by Eiman Eltigani

Over the years, my natural hair went make hair less kinky and more smooth. I was not from being the main cause of my insecurities to concerned about my loss of curls and admired the greatest source of my pride and heritage. My the praise I got: “Wow, your hair looks like white hair has the power to break combs and damage people’s hair!” I thought that was a compliment. brushes, but its strength is not only limited to hair Eventually, the burning and damage caught up to tools. It gives me the power to challenge the comme as my hair began to break off. I told myself I mon standard of beauty that has been imposed on would stop using heat until my hair grew back, me from a young age and to be confident in my then straighten it again. I took away the straightnatural state of kinks and coils. eners and perms without realizing I was going to At age seven, I visited my motherland, Sudan. step into who I would be today. I did not realWhen I met my cousins, the first thing I noize that every time I wore my hair straight, I was ticed was the ashy, light brown color of their facapologizing for being a dark skin girl with curly es. Their arms were darker than mine, yet their hair. I went into my natural hair journey looking ghostly faces were as light as the sand we stood for length, but came out with this amazing sense on. Later, I found out they used chemical filled of black pride. creams to bleach their skin because lighter skin As my hair grew out, I noticed the new, is seen as more “beautiful”. At a young age, I was undamaged curls at my roots. I forgot that my indirectly taught that hair could even look my dark skin, even by like that. I fell in love those who looked like with my new curls me, was less desirable. and wore protective Starting then, I felt styles: hairstyles that insecure about all my protect hair from exblack features: dark ternal factors to keep skin, big lips, and it healthy, every day. most importantly, my It is called protective hair. styles because it pro I grew up tects our hair from with thick, wild damage, but I think it hair that went down is because it protects my back. My mom our culture. would attack me with I started out combs to detangle the natural for the wrong Image by Sadé Gibbons knots, and although reasons, still trapped my scalp suffered a lot, it turned me into the in what I thought society viewed as better hair, strong-headed person I am now. My hair has albut I stayed natural for the best reason. I was fiways been my crown, my barrettes and colorful nally comfortable in my natural state; I was comrubber bands the rubies decorating it, I just did fortable being me. The more I continued through not know it then. my natural hair journey, the healthier and bigger The older I got, the less I liked my natural hair. my hair became. The bigger my hair, the closer I saw the girls on the television and magazines, to God. The bigger my hair, the bigger the crown even the black girls, all with sleek, long hair. I got that represents me. Through natural hair, I have jealous and begged my mom to take me to a salon discovered the confidence I have within myself to straighten my hair until she finally agreed. and will never be afraid to show off my black fea I felt gorgeous in my new hairdo and the tures again. compliments that kept pouring in only encouraged my belief that straight hair was the right hair for me. The hairdresser eventually convinced me to get a relaxer, a mix of chemicals used to

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Stephanie Ureña

“SIT STILL!” my mom yells back. My sister’s screams soon become sobs. I watch as the brush whips her head every which way. And yet, she fights to remain still. My sister soon sits in silence as she realizes that screaming won’t get out all the knots and tangles in her hair. Tears stream down her face. “There. Now go eat your breakfast.” My mom ties my sister’s hair in a ponytail, a very bushy ponytail. She places the brush next to her on the couch. I see large tufts of hair captured by the bristles of the brush. It’s dark brown and curly. The color is from my mom and the curliness my dad.

The Curls Won’t Ever Go Away Written by Caleb Diaz

I wake up to screams. The blood-curdling, wake-up-thedead kind of scream. It’s eight in the morning on a Thursday. In my mind I’m thinking, somebody better have gotten shot in that sala or so-help-me-God they will pay for interrupting my sleep. I hop out of bed and walk toward the living room to see what’s going on. The screams make my ears ring and I can feel the sangre rush to my ears. My eight year old sister is flailing around like a madwoman as my mom tries to brush her hair. “YOU’RE HURTING ME!” she screams out as my mom pulls and tugs at her hair with a brush, desperately trying to pull apart all the knots and tangles that formed overnight.

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I am wide awake now; there is no point in going back to bed. I get myself a bowl of cereal and sit across from my sister. “I hate my hair,” she says. “Why can’t I have straight hair like my friends?” It’s funny she says that. Everyone I know with straight hair says they want curly hair and everyone I know with curly hair says they want straight hair. Me? I’ll take straight hair, too. I don’t say anything to her. There is nothing she can really do. No amount of anti-frizz or detangling spray can fight against the long, thick curls that rest on her head. She is fourteen now. She brushes and combs her own hair, and often tries to straighten it. After using the straightener, you can slowly see her hair start to scrunch up again. No matter the effort, her curls, and mine, will never go away.

Grounded in my roots —Ana Barrera

Melissa Perez

My hair

Written by Tiffany Dominguez

Since I can first remember, I was taught to hate my hair Why? It was frizzy, curly not good enough. Ok. I learned to agree. I never questioned it. I spent hours upon hours under the dryer. I used all sorts of concoctions to straighten my hair. I never let people see me with my natural hair. Why? My natural hair just wasn’t good enough. My mother said it. My grandmother said it. The salon worker said it. So it was true. One day I asked, Why? And the reasons they gave me didn’t add up to me. But my opinion was shut down, Because clearly, Obviously, My hair looks better when straightened. So my blow-dryed hair has been part of my identity Not my natural hair Until college Where I don’t have to listen to their reasons why Where I have no money, skills, or time to straighten my hair Where I can choose what kind of hair I want to be part of my identity Whether it be straightened, Natural, Or anything else on the spectrum The choice is mine.

Gabriela Goitía

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Sancocho is a word commonly used in reference to a large meal shared with many close individuals, where food, dance, and music are shared. Every year, Sancocho has become a tradition that is hosted by the Latinx Festival, in order to open the week of events planned by the constituent groups of the Latinx Coalition. This year's Sancocho was exactly as defined: a place to gather together, enjoy food, and socialize among other Latinx students from campus.

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Written by Hannah Wied The Keynote speaker for Penn's 35th Festival Latinx celebration was none other than Carlos Andres Gomez. He is a Penn alum, co-founder of the Excelano Project and current activist who uses his poetry in order to tie in his personal narrative with commentary on social issues he sees in today's society. His appearance as Keynote was a mixture of speech and performance as he interjected his poetry with personal anecdotes and philosophies. During the past few years, his poems have gained more of a mainstream attention with poems of his like "What Does Hispanic Look Like" going viral on social media, prompting an invitation to the White House in which he performed for former President and First Lady Barack and Michelle Obama. However, his performance didn't include just the poems that have garnered national attention (even though there are a lot of them.) He also treated Festival with some very personal poems that he confessed to the crowd he had never performed before. One, particularly striking, was about the suicide of a close friend in which he expressed his grief through the powerful symbolism of realizing they had left two voicemails on his phone the day he found out they had died. Another stand out was about his grappling to come to terms with the struggles of how to raise a half-black daughter when he admitted his privilege as a white presenting Latino. Not all of his poems were on topics as serious as these, however. The first and perhaps the most lighthearted piece came at the very beginning with his performance of "Hector Lavoe* Was God," a piece that combined the stunning imagery that his poems are known for with the sensuality of movement, it provided a refreshing foil to some of the heavier pieces he performed. All in all, Gomez's artistry and authenticity were fitting of the 35th Anniversary of Festival Latinx.

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Written by Celeste Diaz The Life Stories of three Latinx Professionals:

Dr. Amada Armenta

Dr. Amada Armenta Assistant Professor of Sociology spoke about her journey from a small town in California to her position today at the University of Pennsylvania. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Fake it til you make it,â&#x20AC;? was the phrase she shared boldly. She shared her thoughts with us of uncertainty and self doubt as she progressed in her career, and she stressed that there should not be incredulity to the idea that Latinxs belong in higher education and in the professional world.

Kareli Lizarraga

Kareli Lizarraga, Associate Director of La Casa Latina, spoke second. She began by telling us the story of her family immigrating to the U.S from Mexico; followed by her journey as an undocumented Latina in the US. Her involvement in Teach for America and her career has focused on giving back to her community and helping those who need her.

attempt at celebrating the Latinx community and frustration he felt when not many people attended his event. He knew this was important so he continued to work toward his goal and 12 years later, over a thousand people attended. He emphasized the importance of

networking and of latinx professionals making connections and supporting each other.

Written by Enrique Montoya

artists, and guitarists showcased their skill for their friends and community. As the evening wore on, poems and songs in Spanish, English, and Portuguese reminded everyone just how beautiful and diverse the range of experience each and every person in our communities hold.

Javier Suarez

Javier Suarez, President of the Association of Latino Professionals For America (ALPFA) and Executive Producer of the Hispanic Choice Awards, was the third and final speaker. He talked about his first

As the opening remarks filled the room symbolizing the start of the Festivalâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Open Mic night there was a quiet excitement filling the room.

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The Open Mic gave an outlet for those wishing either to showcase their talents or vent frustration about intersectional social issues ranging from language to the political climate. Oftentimes in periods of great change and especially of political and social strife, it becomes more common, and if not arguably essential, to be able to express oneself. With hands wrapped around the warm coffee, talented singers, cello players, spoken word

The evening came to a close with a sense of heaviness lifting from the room, the kind of heaviness that comes from a long, honest conversation with a best friend or a loved one, the kind that brings people closer together, the kind that comes from listening to another person. The kind of conversation that this country needs more of.

Written by Carol Quezada Olivo The Festival Latinx Event held on Thursday from 6-8PM was a discussion about ways to unite the Black and Latinx Community. It was lead by representatives of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., Lambda Theta Alpha Latin Sorority, Inc., La Unidad Latina, Lambda Upsilon Lambda Fraternity, Inc., Sigma Lambda Upsilon/Señoritas Latinas Unidas Sorority, Inc., Grupo Quisqueyano(GQ), and Queer People of Color (QPOC). The purpose of the event was to present various topics and start a conversation about the similarities and differences between the experiences in each community, the grey area that some Afro-Latinos live in, what ideal activism looks like, and what actions we should take in order to build a more inclusive and supportive environment. Some of the most pertinent topics that came up were: The ways that people identify, i.e. Black, Latinx, Nigerian, Puerto Rican, etc., how language shapes the perception of people, i.e. if you are Latinx, but you speak English without an accent or with a thick accent, or if you are Black, but you “speak white.” Another topic was the feeling that one needs to legitimize who they are to a certain community, i.e. not being Black/Latinx enough. The last section of the discussion touched upon activism and what it looks like between our communities. Overall the main takeaway of this event was that it is important to understand the struggles that each community faces. We should work together to achieve a common goal, but understand the time and place to do so as to not take up space when issues do not directly affect us. Ultimately the Black and Latinx Community face some of the same challenges, but culturally we are different, although we share similar roots. Latinx

people come from various countries including America where their Blackness may or may not be acknowledged. They may not have faced the same type of discrimination and history that the Black Community in America has. Thus, although we are sometimes lumped together, there are various things we may not understand and may not directly affect our respective community. Therefore in order to foster and strong and enriching community, we must learn from each other and make sure that we are creating spaces to unite the communities, where possible, while still understanding the need for separate spaces and identities.

Latin Dance Lesson night has been a long standing event in the Festival Latinx week. The night was full of excitement, people ready to learn moves from Merengue, Salsa, Bachata, and so many other well known dance forms enjoyed in the Latinx communities of the world. World famous Darlin Garcia, instructor of Onda Latina, lit the room with swaying hips and stepping bodies as music floated in the air. LA VIDA | LA LUCHA

Written by Gabriela Juarez Bringing Inka Rayku and Aztec dancers, two phenomenal indigenous performance art groups, caused an effect in the audience, and most importantly, in me. The activities of the evening included Americo, the only Quechua teacher at the university, leading a workshop for us to learn the language of the Incas, accompanied by the band. We not only exchanged “hello’s” and “how are you’s” in this ancient language so attuned to nature, but also sang and made a pirwa – a merry go round to the rhythm of huayno. I was surprised when everyone excitedly followed Americo in his chant and his dancing. After accompanying the band with claps, we appreciated an Aztec performance where the bare-chested dancers, dressed in traditional garments with feathered crowns, colorful knitted fabrics and sandals with bells, performed a religious ritual. While one of the dancers played the drums, the others engaged in a dance quarrel and blew a shell, ritu-

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al that was believed to lead to a state of ecstasy that allowed the Aztecs to communicate with their deities. It was an energetic and passionate dance, so raw and visceral that completely encompasses the Aztec culture in its finest. Learning some Nahuatl – the Aztec’s languagewas the point where I completely identified myself with the Aztec culture. As I was watching Inkarayku perform the beautiful melodies and the Aztec dancers relive the ancient rituals in front of me, and the only thing I kept thinking about was all the people that were not there. The people that were missing this amazing show of indigenous identity. I was overcome by emotion by the knowledge that something so beautiful and deep and passionate could have been overseen and ignored for so long, not only by other people, but by me. While playing volleyball during those beautiful but short-lived sunny days that weather rewarded us with some weeks ago, I was having a chat with a friend about how moving from Peru to the US had launched me into a process

of hyper-identification. It was in the US where I learned to appreciate my Peruvian background, my music, my food, my language, my history and my identity as a Latina. I am not sure if this would have had the same effect if I hadn’t been reintroduced to my indigenous background through arts. It is music and dance that are the real conduit of the expression of culture. Art is really a universal language that gets to everyone and everything. With the aid of art, we succeeded in creating a space for indigenous culture to grow, be nurtured and cared for. Americo Mendoza said it right: “we have created a niche where indigenous culture can be not brought back, but brought forward.”

This was the first Latinx Community Formal ever done during Festival Latinx. The dimmly lit room, scrumptious empanadas, and lively music created a wonderful groove for swaying hips and sweating bodies to release tension and end Festival Latinx in song and celebration.

Andres Jimenez

Musical Director and Multi-instrumentalist

Naomi Sturm

Vocals, Flute, and Percussion

Carlos Moises Ambia Winds and Vocals

Erico Benavente Bass

Adam Negrin Guitar

Omar Carillo Percussion Photo Credit Alexander Bustamante INKARAYKU is a Quechua word that means “because of the Incas.” Led by founder Andres Jimenez, the group seeks to link the past, present and future of Andean arts, through the performance of indigenous music forms that have evolved into the contemporary mestizo music heard today. INKARAYKU’s sound blends the organic power of Quechua folk songs with the energy and edge unique to our City that never sleeps. The band’s diverse line-up brings together a river of musical and artistic experience resulting in Andean folk music that transcends cultural boundaries and seamlessly shares the stage with other folk traditions of the Americas.

Founded in 2010, INKARAYKU developed out of Jimenez’s former group INKA KUSI SONQO. The ensemble has grown to include a full line up of Andean flutes, strings, percussion and vocals. INKARAYKU has performed at such notable venues as the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, Terraza 7, Meridian 23, the Queens Museum, the Syracuse Arts and Crafts Festival, New York University, Cornell University, University of Pennslyvania, Leftfield Bar and Grill, Lucky Jacks NYC, the Nyack Village Theatre and many more.

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LATINX SPOTLIGHTS We aim to highlight those in our community who support and fight for us and with us. We hope that this recognition allows us to strive for success in our communities as well as inspire our fellow minority members to rise against injustices together to build a better and greater future. ¡Adelante!

Luchando for Immigrants: Daisy Romero

Daisy Romero is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences, and is studying Political Science. Daisy and her family are originally from Mexico, but they migrated to the U.S in 2003 and eventually settled in San Antonio, Texas. As a low-income, first-gen undocumented student at Penn, Daisy has continuously faced obstacles throughout her college journey. Growing up in San Antonio, Daisy had never really thought much about undocumented status until her hard work throughout high school had gotten her to the college application process. During this process, Daisy was quick to realize just what it meant to be undocumented in the US; due to her legal status, Daisy was not eligible to get the financial aid necessary to attend many schools. Despite all of the difficulties that Daisy faced, she was

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nonetheless accepted at Penn, where these experiences have influenced her to become involved with Penn for Immigrant Rights since her freshman year. In the summer of 2016, Daisy interned with the non-profit, Voto Latino, in Washington D.C. As an intern, Daisy worked with Voto Latino as they expanded their mission to college campuses in order to increase voter registration and political engagement amongst the Latinx community. Daisy also noted that she helped establish the Voto Latino chapter at Penn, however, she recognizes it has been difficult to get the group started due to the fact that political engagement at Penn is already at a very high level. Overall, Daisy’s time at Penn has taught her many lessons, particularly when discussing the legality of undocumented status; Daisy has come to learn a lot about the issue and just how complex it truly is, yet she has constantly fought for immigrant rights. Following the presidential election, Daisy remarked that she definitely felt as thought her presence in the US was challenged, a sentiment that is shared by many students. Daisy also recognizes that Penn’s administration has indeed been supportive of students following the election and she has consistently made her voice and opinions heard, in an effort to hopefully change things for the better. Daisy points out that Penn can certainly do a better job at helping undocumented students navigate the college application process and making them feel comfortable once they’re at Penn. After college, Daisy sees herself moving back home to San Antonio to hopefully reconnect with her family and potentially get involved with non-profits that aid undocumented immigrants just like herself.

–Miguel Gonzalez

Luchando Unapologetically: Jordi Rivera Prince

Photo Credit: Kate D. Sherwood, Smithsonian Institution

Jordi Rivera Prince is a 2016 alumna, who graduated with a bachelor's in Anthropology and currently works as a federal contractor to the Department of Physical Anthropology at the Smithsonian. Jordi grew up in rural west Michigan, in a town known for their blueberry crops which many low-class Mexican migrants tended. As a half-white, half-mexican woman, it was interesting for her to grow up in that context. Most people identified her as white and treated her as such because she was raised by her white mom, has a “white” accent, and culturally grew up white. However, she was never completely identified as such, because based on her appearance, she is not “just” white. Jordi grew up with a single mom and her younger sister. One of her challenges was having to grow up fast and adjust to certain responsibilities. If her mom was bed ridden due to a sickness, she would have to help out around the house. Due to financial struggles, it became clear to her that she wouldn't be able to pay for college on her own, so she knew she had to

do well in high school. Working was not an unfamiliar concept to her as she began her first job at the age of 12 babysitting and picking blueberries. Once in college, she worked 2 to 3 jobs at a time, usually completing 30 or more work hours in a week. When speaking on her struggles in the Latinx Community, she mentioned being mixed, and the notion of "not being Latina enough and not being white enough." There is already a feeling of pressure and competition at Penn, and when you add a layer of being of any ethnicity, people assume things about the merit of your accomplishments. People have a tendency to minimize your efforts and achievements according to your race. However, she knows that if she had not deserved them and put in the effort, she would not have been awarded with those achievements. This was a realization that took her longer to come to: that people are not giving her handouts, she has worked for everything she has gotten and will get, and that it is okay to claim her identity and her victories. She doesn’t have to be apologetic about it. Now, as a graduate and having entered the professional world, she says that although the competitive atmosphere of Penn is hard, there is something to be said for a place where everyone around you is pretty much as smart as you are. She doesn’t have nearly the same bubble of intellectual conversations with people anymore. She has also found that her struggle has changed in that Anthropology, as a field, has been white-male dominated and is now starting to be more white-female dominated. Therefore, everything is mostly seen through a white gaze. There is a lot less diversity and the imposter syndrome never really goes away. However, having gone through a similar environment at Penn, she is able to be proud of her work, but it’s different in that people don’t engage in discussions about identity and what it means to be Latina in an academic setting. At Penn, La Casa Latina was a place where this conversation was always taking place. Finally, looking back, some of the people who inspired her the most during her time at Penn were people who were proud of who they were, what their family instilled in them, and their culture. People who completely embraced it and were unapologetic were inspiring and showed bravery. There are smart and competent Latinxs everywhere, but the more people are unapologetic about it, the more the new narrative gets written. The more prevalent the narrative becomes, the more we get to claim our space in society and in history.

–Celeste Diaz

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Luchando against Dangerous Ideologies: Dr. Jennifer Ponce de León

Jennifer Ponce de León is a second year professor in the English department who also teaches courses in the Latin American and Latinx Studies department that deal with radical movements, social theory, and anti-colonial and anti-imperialist thought. She received her B.A. in Literature from Harvard, an M.A. in Art History from UCLA and her Ph.D in American Studies from NYU. After undergrad, she became interested in Chicanx Art, which led her to California. She then spent time in various parts of Latin America deepening her knowledge of political art. When thinking about the Latinx struggle, Ponce de León says there is not one Latinx struggle in her mind. It’s not the primary framework within which, she thinks, determines what people’s politics are, because a person can be Latinx and have all different kinds of politics. She would hope that Latinx people would participate in all different kinds of struggles for social justice, whether or not they are organized around Latinx identities. “All kinds of struggles” includes: struggles within and outside of the US, anti-imperialist, anti-racist, anti-capitalist struggles, struggles against racial injustice, and against gender oppression. She believes these should all be on the table as priorities for Latinx struggles. While she understands that there are identity categories through which people do come to understand particular forms of oppression, those categories are ones that we also have to be aware of and flexible of when using them, and not necessarily presume that they have to be the direct space from which we work. She stresses that it is important to find a language that makes connections between different struggles. Having conversations with people with different backgrounds and educated in specific topics and move-

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ments have helped inform her own thinking and can be beneficial to others discussing any issues of struggle. When discussing Latinx struggles Ponce de León believes it is important to be mindful of the terms in which we want to define the debates of the struggle, and to not let other people define them for us. One example she provides is the ways in which conversations around immigration get defined. If we let reactionary racist powers redefine the terms, then we’re going to be talking about “criminals” and “non-criminals”. Unfortunately, sometimes that language gets picked up by people who are advocating for immigrant rights and they end up saying, “we are not criminals.” Instead of what should be said: “We don’t have to defend that.” Followed by asserting that we care equally about people who may have criminal records. Ponce de León continued by saying, we should believe in the fact that we can demand “big things.” It’s important to remember that people have an enormous amount of power and the world exists the way it does because it has been fought for and changed. Ponce de León concludes by saying, when talking about Latinx politics in the U.S., we need to keep in mind our location within an empire, because there’s a danger of not realizing that we can be exploited by it as well. Latinxs within the U.S. need to acknowledge that we may be complicit with forms of oppression; including wars and imperialist dispossession happening outside our national borders, by solely focusing on making gains within our national context. Understanding our position within those actions and thinking of ways to form solidarity beyond the frame of the U.S. is really important.

–Celeste Diaz

The three ARCH cultural resource centers (PAACH, Makuu, and La Casa Latina) hosts workshops and discussions every couple weeks surrounding issues and themes on intersectionality. The purpose of the series is to promote collaboration and connection between the three ARCH cultural resource centers at what is now a very critical time in history. In this discussion series, we want to take an introspective view of where the disconnect for communities to work together comes from, and use this understanding to develop what we need to do to show our support. We undoubtedly have the ability to extend our search for commonalities to the wider minority community. â&#x20AC;&#x201C;Tandra Mitchell

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You tame a wild tongue by stealing its words. How can you reach into the back of my throat and pull out my tongue?

Zero-lingual, Not Korean? What language A bastard Broken English? Not English? do I speak? language? Improper Korean? No. I speak with a wild tongue a tongue that I stitched English, Korean, and tongue pops together.

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Submission by Ian Jeong

Submisson by Araba Ankuma

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For so long standards of what is socially acceptable to do as a man or woman have oppressed the LGBT community. Sexual minorities are discriminated against for going against heteronormative structures predicated by gender. The trans community struggles being seen and understood as the gender they identify as, some for choosing not to identify with a binary gender at all, because of the roles society assigns to sexual categories. The Latinx community supports the LGBTQIA+ community and recognizes the intersection with gender roles and gender inequality

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Submission by Rogelio Caro

Penn's Latinx Coalition On February 16th, 2017 the Latin@ Coalition became the Latinx Coalition (LC). During the third LC general body meeting (GBM) of the semester, a voting was held to have the name of the umbrella organization revised. The board, which acts like an electoral college of sorts and makes the final decision, stood behind its constituents and approved the amendment. The proposal come from two members of the LC board itself and echoed the sentiments many constituents had been expressing for months on end. I was one such constituent. As members of the Latinx community, many of us have live in a gendered world for most of our lives. Spanish itself is a gendered language, with every word being either feminine or masculine. Thus, there is an ever-present gender binary that Latinxs can’t escape even when communicating in our everyday lives. As one constituent expressed, “Many of us have the privilege of waking up and being comfortable with our bodies, but a lot of Latinxs do not.” For nonbinary, gender-queer, gender fluid, agender, and other gender-nonconforming individuals, having to identify as either male or female, when they do not feel like either, can be very stressful. This feeling is only exacerbated when a huge part of their identity, being Latinx, entails having to make this choice as well. A gender nonconforming individual might love being Latinx, and might be at peace with the fact that it is nearly impossible to remove the gender from Spanish entirely. However, that does not make having to choose between the labels “Latina” and “Latino” any easier. Each time these individuals have to make that choice, their sense of self is fractured. It does not make sense to only give the option of male or female, when they do not see themselves as either. Before being the Latin@ Coalition the LC was the Latino Coalition. The change from the “o” to the “@” took place when in 2013 the constituents, and board members, of the LC decided that it was non-inclusive—for Latinas—to have the LC called the Latino Coalition. It is this same desire for inclusivity that drove the two members of the LC board to propose that the LC be renamed the Latinx Coalition. This change is a major accomplishment, and a step toward making the Latinx community at Penn, and at large, a more accepting and inclusive one. There is a huge variety of skin tones, religious beliefs, accents, gender identities, etc. among the members of the Latinx community. However, a lot of this diversity is masked. Recognizing the existence of Afro-Latinxs, respecting our dialectic and religious differences, and giving our Latinx members the ability to identify as they wish, are the only ways we can ensure the diversity of our community is represented and celebrated. Thus, allowing all of us to thrive. A huge congratulations to the Latinx Coalition and the Latinx community at Penn!

–Marcella Marquez

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Void

Written by Juan Cabrera

Cages in Trees

Written by Enrique Montoya

Does the flightless bird know what it means to spread its wings and soar? Does the Raven dare to dream of paradise, dreams no raven ever dared to dream before? Does the Bald Eagle at least know that he is free? Does a caged bird know the life that it was meant for, or is it grateful to feel protected from the unknown? In the US as an LGBT Latinx person of color, I am a minority. When the media says the word minority, they are referring to a minority percentage of the population. But after years of experiencing the word minority, I can’t help but feel that minority sounds more like go back from where you came from. Tastes like the mouth of someone saying learn English. Feels more like stares when I walk into a department store than the 17% of the population that shares the same skin tone—a tone that resonates from sea to shining sea until the brown mud comes up from the banks and swallows my whole body; they label me: dirty. I find it humorous that our legends tell us to not fly too high, but we tell our children that the sky`s the limit. Did Icarus fall because of his own pride, or did he watch the news and follow the character in the newscasters’ narrative that he felt represented him and his people and simply follow suit? But when you’re not white in a world, in a country, where white is not the status quo, you see things differently. You no longer hear, less than you hear equal to, that equality sounds like you belong here and wow you speak 2 languages. My skin no longer dirty, suddenly baptized into the sweet taste of cajeta or abuela’s chocolate. Even if I know that I have lived a privileged life I have always been fighting against the current, a current telling me to drown in the ocean below. For anyone who has doubted themselves because of how the media has portrayed any one of your identities: When did we fall from our own graces? When did we forsake ourselves? When did we let this current flow in the opposite direction of god? Yesterday, my mother took and hung a birdcage on a branch in a tree outside. So they can get some fresh air she said. Puzzled I looked at her and back at the cage and thought what a fucking sick joke that was.

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Is a caged bird a bird at all?