COVER STORY | Pennsando en Nuestra Comunidad
La Vida
Photography by: Tonjanika Smith
PAID SUPPLEMENT OF THE DAILY PENNSYLVANIAN | Wednesday, April 10th, 2013
INSIDE LA VIDA Letter from the Editor .................................................................................................................... 2 Los Que Resucitaron La Vida .......................................................................................................... 3 Featuring: Tonjanika Smith and Javier Garcia .............................................................................. 3 Editor-in-Chief Acquisitions Editor Business Manager Layout Editor Web Design Editor
TIFFANY GOMEZ CAROLINA ANGEL MONICA CASTILLO ADAN JUAREZ SHEILA QUINTANA
Chavez: Contradictory Legacies ...................................................................................................... 4 We All Need a Dominican Resort .................................................................................................... 5 Español .............................................................................................................................................. 5 An Apologetic Emergency ................................................................................................................ 6 I Am Not ____ Enough ...................................................................................................................... 7 Presenting: Patty Mendoza .............................................................................................................. 7 Pennsando en Nuestra Comunidad ................................................................................................. 8
Staff Editors:
My People’s Hands .......................................................................................................................... 10
EMMANUEL CORDOVA GABRIELA COYA ROBERTO FRANCO ADRIANA GARCIA
The Only Way ................................................................................................................................... 11 Pennsando en Mi Vida ..................................................................................................................... 11 Manifesto of Revolutionary Beauty ............................................................................................... 12 Study Abroad Collage ..................................................................................................................... 13 A Call to Latino Physicians ............................................................................................................ 14
Special thanks to:
CASA MONARCA THE FESTIVAL LATINO BOARD LA CASA LATINA THE LATINO COALITION STUDENT ACTIVITIES COUNCIL THE DAILY PENNSYLVANIAN WHAT IS YOUR SPIRIT ANIMAL AND WHY? TIFFANY: A polar bear,
enough said.
CAROLINA: A lioness,
because
I get protective over those I care about.
ADRIANA: A panda, because they’re vegetarian, and though I’m usually calm, I can snap when provoked.
MONICA: A butterfly, because my personality is colorful and free.
SHEILA: A red panda, because it is active from dusk to dawn and sedentary during the day
ROBERTO: A fox, because I’m cute on the outside and I can’t be tamed.
EMMANUEL: A phoenix. As someone who has struggled through many adversities, I’ve had a community help me rise through the ashes.
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LDI: Rediscovering the Latino Scholar ......................................................................................... 14 Musings of a Confused Gringa ........................................................................................................ 15 The Tourist ........................................................................................................................................ 15 Sin Nombre ....................................................................................................................................... 16
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
A SHOWCASE OF PENNSANDORES
Before I found words, my medium of communication were pictures. I convinced myself that I was particularly ingenious for having the ability to make anything I imagined seamlessly transfer from mere thoughts in my head to pictures on a page. However, my career as an artist was short-lived and later overshadowed by the fact that I learned how to write. I have never been a particularly expressive person, but since mastering the use of letters and words, I have always been able to communicate my innermost thoughts and feelings with others and myself through writing.
Nevertheless, this has not made the daunting task of writing my first “Letter from the Editor” any easier. For weeks, I’ve thought about the witty jokes I wanted to include in my introduction, to what is this semester’s Pennsando edition of La Vida. I’m almost embarrassed to share with you that I was going to use “the baby” analogy to describe my experience over the last semester as Editorin-Chief. You know, the part where I tell you that working on La Vida has been like nursing and taking care of a baby and just like babies grow up and leave the nest, this was me letting everyone finally read my baby. Super cliché, I know. More than anything, it seems a little selfish. La Vida was only made possible this semester by the contributions of a long list of people whose names you will see featured in the various pages of our magazine. The pennsamientos of our contributors reflect the campus-wide conversations which we happily continue to have in order to see some future changes in how we “put someone in a box.” Through Heather’s confession of being a “confused gringa” and Gionni’s artistic representation, you will see that regardless of race or ethnicity, there are times when everyone feels like he/she shouldn’t be confined to one category. More importantly, this became a campus-wide conversation under the leadership of Adan and Sasha in the “I am not _______ enough” project that triggered people from all walks of campus to confront a time when they did not feel adequate identifying with a specific group. Leaders from all different interests have also emerged to cater to the discrepancies found
in the Latino community as reflected in Emmanuel and Miguel’s “A Call to Latino Physicians” and Adan’s “LDI: Rediscovering the Latino Scholar.” But in our pages you will find the experiences that transcend any cultural or ethnic binding and can resonate with anyone who picks up this issue. Melissa’s poem contemplating the insecurities one faces at Penn or any institution of higher education sheds light on the thoughts that too often reverberate through my head at night. Miguel’s “The Tourist” is pertinent to those who have borne witness to the neo-colonialism taking place in foreign countries. Most of all, the senior goodbyes reminds us all that we can’t be in college forever and sadly, all good things must come to an end. The three wonderful individuals you will only get to know minimally in the next page have made it possible for me to write this letter because of their continued devotion in keeping La Vida’s legacy alive. My biggest fear since accepting the position of Editor-inChief has been that I would not be able to wear the shoes Kareli left me to fill but I have been incredibly lucky to have my board members, editors and contributors who have been more than willing to help me step into those big things (just kidding, Kareli is only a size 7). This letter is a very accurate representation of what goes on in my head: an array of random thoughts, ideas, anecdotes and occasionally a joke at the expense of someone else— essentially a jumbled mess. Thankfully, this issue is an arranged series of musings that I hope will reflect and hopefully spark more conversations at Penn in order to continue cultivating this community of pennsadores.
TIFFANY GOMEZ is currently a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences majoring in communications. Contact her at lavidaupenn@gmail.com.
Los Que Resucitaron La Vida BY TIFFANY GOMEZ
ANGEL CONTRERA
The first time I met Angel, we were sitting opposite each other during a “speed date” and the first thing he said to me was, “Tell me your life story.” Since then, I have more than accepted that open invitation and through every late night in Huntsman, screaming match at La Vida meetings, and gospel music/ folk music/The Weeknd study breaks, I have grown to love Angel as one of my best friends. I can’t imagine Penn without you and truth is, you have been such an integral part of my time here, it’s almost scary to not imagine seeing your beautiful unshaved face at La Casa everyday. Just remember how incredible you are as you take on this scary adventure called life and know that wherever you go, you have already made such an impressionable difference in my life and the life of others. No matter how much you don’t think so, you will go out into this world, kick ass in whatever you do and recruit new volunteers to happily ride on your struggle bus.
featuring...
KARELI LIZARRAGA
The reason this paper is in your hands today is because of Kareli. Her exceptional leadership led La Vida through some of its more trying times in the last three semesters and thus inspired me to join this dysfunctional family of crazies. For every time I’ve questioned your fashion choices and mocked your pug obsession, I hope I’ve also made you aware of what a phenomenal person you are. Your positivity, courageousness and strength not only resuscitated La Vida, but also gave me a new and unexpected friend whom I love and admire so much. I hope you get the opportunity to spread your joy and zest for life with little kiddies in the future because they will be lucky to have a teacher who has faced all the obstacles you already have with a constant smile. Even if you don’t get that chance, leave Penn knowing that you will be incredibly missed by the people you have already made laugh incredibly loud with an inappropriate joke or sarcastic comment. I love you KayRels and keep rocking that tribal dress and Dorothy shoes like no one’s watching!
AIDA VEGA
With a meticulous attention to detail, Aida Vega made sure that each and every piece in La Vida was perfect. As the Acquisitions Editor, she pushed for pieces that portrayed issues that were not only relevant to the Latino community but to the whole student body at Penn. Aida’s pieces, articles on topics as diverse as body confidence, America Ferrera, and religious diversity, reflect her curiosity and zest for life. Regardless of how busy her day is, she is able to impressively balance academics, extracurriculars, as well as athletics (GURL LOOK AT THAT BODY). I remember when even in the middle of the craziness that is putting together each issue of La Vida Magazine, Aida had made time to take swimming lessons in Pottruck and master a new skill. Dear Aida, I want to let you know that getting to know you during your time at La Vida has been an absolute pleasure! I have no doubt that you will continue rocking the world no matter where it is life takes you.
TONJANIKA SMITH
JAVIER GARCIA
Tonjanika “TJ” Smith is a Wharton junior pursuing Management with an interest in social impact. TJ was exposed to photography through film at a young age, participating in school contests and at her local Boys & Girls Club. Her favorite subjects to shoot are the children she volunteers with, architecture and nature. Currently, she is working on a few projects and assisting in the development of other young photographers.
Javier is a freshman in the College, currently pursuing a degree interest in Cognitive Science. He sits on the Festival Latino Board (FLB). He is from California, which he describes as his inspiration for initially picking up a camera. His interest in photography began in high school when he decided to visit all the national and state parks in the Golden State. Javier is a contributing photographer for The Daily Pennsylvanian, where he first began shooting for a publication. Javier enjoys taking shots of nature and things that “don’t talk”, but has recently acquired an interest for shooting face portraits and action shots. 3
Chavez: Contradictory Legacies BY CASEY ANDERSON Former President of Venezuela, Hugo Chavez, was a larger than life figure who evoked much controversy because of his unorthodox approach to governance. He has been characterized as “populist,” “idealist,” “dictator,” and “savior,” but attempting to cast a value judgment of his regime is an empty task precisely because of his polarizing effect. The U.S. enjoyed criticizing him extensively because he did not conform to its model for economic growth and allied himself with “hostile” regimes. Some Venezuelans disliked him because of the redistributive policies he implemented that impacted them negatively, while impoverished Venezuelans and many others in Latin America laud him as a savior. Why does this contradiction persist when the U.S. has worked so hard to characterize him as evil? When every single article written about Chavez in the U.S. is dripping with disdain and describes him as a dictator-- why is there still so much support for him in Latin America and from within his own country? Fundamentally, it is because he stood up to the United States. This is the dividing line. Arguments for U.S. hegemony since the end of the Cold War have been widespread and well-researched. The “New World Order” came with the apparent triumph of capitalism and has persisted until now. The Great Recession exposed the failures of unregulated capitalism, particularly due
to financial innovations meant to reduce risk. However, there is an increasing amount of literature regarding a shift to a multipolar system as U.S. leadership fades because of its failures in Iraq and weakened economic leadership amongst other possible causes. Inevitably, this means cracks in America’s modern-day “empire.” Through mainly trade and drug policies, the United States has been able to control most of Latin America’s politics since the 1980’s. It has served as a “benevolent hegemon,” trying to guide Latin America towards sustainable development. But the decay of U.S. hegemony has weakened the consensus from the end of the Cold War that regarded U.S.-style development as the only path, and others have since emerged such as the rise of the BRICS (Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa) nations. So, regardless of one’s opinion of Chavez, one thing is certain: his legacy will persist. Chavez will not be remembered for any accomplishments he claimed to have made in Venezuela since those are all contested. He will not be hailed as a diplomatic guru, or as a military maverick or political showman. Instead, he will be remembered for standing up to the United States; for voicing an idea and starting a movement in Latin America of questioning the status quo, questioning policies imposed upon them without any representation. Others like the “ALBA” countries, also known as the Bolivarian alliance, have followed Chavez’s lead. Some have been successful in implementing change and reforms without the aid of the U.S., such as Ecuador’s Correa who was recently overwhelmingly re-elected based upon his sound economic policies. Meanwhile, others have floundered, such as Argentina’s Kirchner. In the coming age of multipolarity, the world will have several “superpowers.” This is evident in the creation of a BRICS development bank, which would serve as an alternative to the IMF/WB. A world without the U.S. as hegemon troubles the U.S. deeply because it will have to adapt to a new environment where it will no longer dictate the rules -though it will certainly continue to exercise great leverage. This does not mean the end of the U.S., who has clearly embraced globalization as is evident in its financial markets and trade policies. The new challenge is to accept and adapt to what globalization really means, as there is currently an obvious internal contradiction: the U.S. embraces the positive aspects of a globalized market (i.e. cheaper prices due to greater competition) but refuses to accept the “negative” aspects of globalization such as diffusion of power or a changing job landscape (i.e. diminishing manufacturing jobs in America as they move to other countries that have a comparative advantage in manufacturing). This contradiction slows down U.S. growth because it prevents the country from deftly adapting to this changing, globalized world. While there are many critics of Chavez, he was an essential step in this process of diffusion of power that comes with globalization. Perhaps Chavez’s motives were not pure, but at this point, his true motives are rendered irrelevant because he already inspired change in the system. Chavez was a lot of things, some better than others, but the U.S. shouldn’t so hastily disengage from a country that it does not like or that does not look exactly like itself. Many are quick to dismiss “Chavez: the man,” and overlook “Chavez: the idea.” That is why his legacy will persist, because it isn’t about him, it’s about what he represented—his idealistic vision of an independent and successful Latin America. In the coming age of multipolarity, alliances will become critical. As with multi-party political systems, coalitions will be necessary to reach a majority. Compromises must be made. Change is inherent in globalization, and from it emerge new ideas and methods that must be tried and tested to find the “best” solution. Globalization has already caused many shifts. While we can only speculate about the future, only one thing is certain, the emergence of a Chavez was inevitable. Photograph by Carolina Angel
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We All Need a Dominican Resort
BY JANINA LAGEMANN-DONÉ
Whenever we make the trip from New York to Santo Domingo, we make sure to schedule some time away from the family — away from la capitál. On the beach.
When things at home get tough, we book a room with big courtyard-facing windows and spend the day on plastic beach chairs: – Mira, llegaron los gringos. My mother and I watch vacationing people on neighboring lounge chairs while we lay in the sun. We do this for hours on the Dominican coast. We turn to each other, mumbling into our towels: – They don’t look this ugly back at home. – Ay si, they look worse. My mother sits up, takes a picture of the Americans on the beach. The Dominican Republic is my far-away family home. But these people, on the beach, they are family too.
ESPAÑOL BY YESSENIA GUTIERREZ
De vez en cuando me pregunto de qué sirvió todo. El peor problema es la ingratitud. Sé que no se supone que debería esperar un agradecimiento, que no debería pensar en lo que puedo recibir, pero la verdad es que espero a algo. ¿Por qué es tan horrible querer algo más fácil? Tengo mucho de que estar agradecida, lo sé. Pero de vez en cuando, me comparo con los demás. He trabajado desde los ocho años. Me levantaba con mi madre, y cuando ella se iba al río a lavar la ropa, yo empezaba a moler el maíz, echar las tortillas y bañar a mis hermanos menores. Ella no tenía que decirme que le ayudara. Yo la miraba y sabía que necesitaba ayuda. Después, me fui a la capital a trabajar. Cuando no los podía visitar, no hacía más que pensar en ellos. ¿Estarán bien? ¿Comiendo? ¿Puede ella sola con tantos niños? Luego, en una de mis visitas, me contó. “Tu padre está metido en la guerrilla.” Su cara, más vieja que sus años, mostraba su miedo. Le dije que no se preocupara, pero esa noche rezamos juntas, llorando. Tuve que regresar a mi trabajo, pero le aseguré que volvería pronto. Y desde ese día empecé a ahorrar. Comía menos, caminaba más lejos, no quería usar ni la camioneta. Quería mandarles todo lo que podía. Un día, un conocido me dijo que iba por allá. “Pasa por mi casa, por favor, a ver como están.”“Claro, claro.” Pero, cuando regresó se miraba tan serio, y hablaba en voz baja. “¡Ya casi me matas! Mira, allá en el Petén no se puede ni preguntar por alguien con tu apellido. Los están buscando. Y tu familia ya no está allí.” Ya casi grite, pero me dijo que me calmara. “Si los están buscando, probablemente lograron escaparse.” Estas palabras eran mi único consuelo en los años que no supe nada de mi madre, mi padre, ni mis hermanos. Pero cuando al fin los encontré, los encontré incompletos. Después, me vine a los Estados, y mi vida era puro trabajar. Necesitaba dinero para traer a mis hijos, para pagar mis deudas. Trabaje embarazada, con un bebé y enferma. Trabaje por más de cincuenta años. Y ahora, mis hijos me echan en cara lo que no les he podido dar: carros nuevos a los dieciséis anos, zapatos de moda, vacaciones cada verano. Y me enojo. Pero por las noches lloro porque quisiera poderles dar todo eso. Pero les di todo lo que pude, todo lo que tengo. Y ahora estoy vieja y nada ha cambiado. Todavía trabajo, todavía estoy pagando mis deudas, y todavía no puedo parar de preocuparme por mi familia, solo que ahora lo hago en otro país.
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An Apologetic Emergency BY SASHA LAGOMBRA “Autism is part of the gift, not the part of the gift that got damaged.” – Thomas Cannon
supposed to be driving you two,” he said.“She’s sick, and I should pull over right here.” Six hours after the crash, we finally made it home.
Tuesday, July 24th, 2012 is a day that I will never forget.
Yes, there are days when having an autistic sibling is difficult. Tuesday, July 24th, 2012 was one of those days. It was hard to work with Tatiana in a new environment. Even more heart breaking, however, was having to apologize for her. Autism is what sets my sister apart from the mundane norm and makes her so distinctly beautiful. That afternoon in the hospital, people looked at us with pity and embarrassment, as if I should be ashamed of her behavior or humiliated by her condition. And I am not.
I was sitting at work, filing through résumés, when my phone rang. I answered, and sat quietly as I heard the news. Just a few blocks away from school, my sister’s school bus had gotten into an accident. It appeared that none of the students were majorly injured, but EMS was on the way. Since my parents were out of the country, I was responsible for Tatiana’s wellbeing. My office was only twenty blocks away from the accident but the cab ride there felt like an eternity. Tatiana was already in the EMS truck when I arrived. She did not appear hurt, but because of her inability to communicate, a doctor would have to clear her of any internal injuries. The attending EMS personnel told me not to worry, but I couldn’t help it. My heart raced, and tears began to swell in my eyes. I’m only twenty years old. I don’t know how to be responsible for another person’s life. Less than thirty seconds into the car ride over, Tatiana began grabbing bottles, straps, tags, and boxes from the shelves. Usually, ignorance about autism makes people angered and frustrated at this behavior. This same unfamiliarity has left the autistic community stereotyped as living “Rain Men,” thought to be insanely smart but incredibly awkward. This particular paramedic, however, simply smiled at her curiosity. When we arrived at the emergency room, the paramedic led Tatiana and me to a small room. There, an older woman proceeded to ask us questions. Or, at least, she tried to. Immediately upon entering the room, Tatiana ripped the paper cover from the examination table, and attempted to put it in her mouth. Angered, the woman scolded my sister, and told me to control her better. I held both of Tatiana’s hands in one of mine, and walked with her in circles inside the room. With the other hand, I took out my phone and dialed my brother. Frantically, I told him where Tatiana’s medications were kept, and asked him to text me a list of them. They are as follows: -Sotalol 80 milligrams, twice a day. Used to treat her rapid heartbeat from supraventricular tachycardia, a condition with which she was born and because of which she required a heart surgery a few years ago. -Celexa 20 milligrams, one and a half in the morning, to reduce repetitive behavior associated with autism. -Nadolol 20 milligrams, one a day, also for her rapid heartbeat. -Lorazepam 2 mg, one and a half in the morning, one in the evening, to treat hyperactivity and autistic behaviors. -Abilify 10mg, one in the morning, and two in the evening, to offset the insomnia caused by her medications. -Melatonin (Vitamin), two in the evening, also to treat insomnia. To cover the costs of these medications, my mother enrolled our family in a prescription plan offered through her health insurance. Total cost? About $130 a month or over $1,500 a year. We waited in the ER for about three hours, which included dozens of apologies and trips to the bathroom in the hopes that she would not relieve herself somewhere else in the hospital. Finally, a doctor saw my sister and cleared her to go home. During the entire forty-minute cab ride home, I again had to apologize, this time to the driver as he threatened to kick us out. “I’m not
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The general public often does not have the privilege of experiencing the beauty of autism. It exists in the quirky trains of thought, the affectionate smiles, and the heartwarming giggles. My sister demonstrates an unrequited love that knows no boundaries, and there is something positively refreshing about that. She does not know about injustice, inequality, race, gender, or class. She does not know how to hate. She is the definition of innocent love. And no matter how many times people might call her stupid or retarded, she will still love them. After realizing that my sister is autistic, most people apologize. They tilt their head to the side, give a sympathetic look, and express their regret. And you know what? I am sorry too. I am sorry that most of them will never experience one of the purest forms of humanity, compassion, or friendship. I am sorry that they will never know the gift that is my sister.
He looked at his watch
BY CAROLINA ANGEL
To check the time He told me how he should have been named Moses He remembered a man named Alejandro Then asked me who I was I held his hand as he stood up from the couch His cane could only support one side He had almost been taken by a river when he was a baby, he said And asked again for the time Then asked me if he and I were related He called me Another name before asking again If I knew an Alejandro Ángel He asked for my name Otra vez I told him who I was Again Abuelo, soy tu nieta Hija de Alejandro
Photographs by Javier Garcia
I AM NOT ____ ENOUGH BY SASHA LAGOMBRA AND ADAN JUAREZ As a part of the Annual Festival Latino, the Gamma Chapter of Sigma Lambda Upsilon Señoritas Latinas Unidas Sorority, Inc. collaborated with la Asociación Cultural de Estudiantes Latinoamericanos in a project entitled “I’m not ______ Enough.”We are often very quick to place certain expectations on self-identity groups, and unfortunately, this translates to pressure on individuals to try and fulfill those characteristics or act a certain way. This project will discuss and explore the implications of people feeling marginalized from their communities because they do not possess certain characteristics. What happens when one doesn’t feel like they’re Latino, Gay, Woman, or Black enough? How, if at all, can we change these expectations? As part of the project, representatives from SLU and ACELA stood on Locust Walk to get the greater Penn community PENNsando. They challenged students who walked by to think of a time they felt marginalized by a group with which they identified. After collecting several responses, the groups held an open forum to explain why this tendency was occurring.
One thing is for sure, if you are not part of a certain community then your perception of said community is not always accurate. Furthermore, there seems to be common stereotypes between varied minority communities, which are often regarded in opposition to the majority. But where do these stereotypes stem from? Aside from the sources like the media, the discussion found that in many cases, members of our own community tend to reinforce these misconceptions within our circles. Moving forward, we ought to celebrate a marginalized person’s desire to identify with a community rather than reprimand someone for not “fitting” a mold. And while we will never be able to complete change or dispel the stereotypes, what we should do is put a positive spin on negatives stereotypes. While the conversation is far from over, one conclusion is that a person is never not enough of something but rather he should be celebrated for expanding the population of that group. (So keep doing you!)
Presenting Patty Mendoza: Associate Director of La Casa Latina BY CATALINA RAMOS
I sat down to talk to the newest member of our community, Patty Mendoza; the new Associate Director of The Center for Hispanic Excellence: La Casa Latina. First of all, Patty is no stranger to the type of work at La Casa Latina. Before joining us at Penn, Patty worked at the University of San Diego in a resource center called Student Promoted Access Center for Education and Service (SPACES).
speaker, she was tracked into remedial courses. This continued into high school, when her counselors told her not to worry about taking the SAT. A victim of overcrowding, Patty wasn’t being academically prepared for the schools to which she wanted to attend.
Patty was motivated to work at La Casa Latina because their work falls right in line with her interest in working towards educational equity and social justice. Having the opportunity to go to student run events, bring speakers, work with students and do advocacy work for the community also intrigued her. . When I asked about the differences between her previous work and her work at La Casa, Patty admits that they are actually quite similar. One thing she says is particular to the East coast is the larger Latino diaspora. On the West coast, the Latino students Patty worked with were Mexican or Central American. Nevertheless, she says this is something she was very aware of when she applied for the position;“I saw it as an opportunity for growth, both personally and professionally.” The weather in Philadelphia has definitely been a big adjustment from Los Angeles. Learning how to layer and battling a cold have been two of the ways Patty has had to adapt; “I’ve told Johnny I may just be this way until Spring decides to come”. As some of our West Coast readers may have felt, Patty says another big change is public transportation because in LA“you have to have a car.” Patty’s passion for education equity and the work she does at La Casa has very personal roots. As an English-as-a-Second-Language
cessful. Like many immigrant parents, they didn’t know how to navigate the public education system, but what her parents and in particular her mother gave her, were consejos. Those consejos were about being formally educated and using that as a way to be independent and successful as a person –traits important to a woman of color. The consejos and strong work ethic provided her with the strength and power to overcome any challenges thrown her way. “Throughout undergrad and graduate school on the long nights working on a paper, being in an institution that doesn’t have adequate resources for students from low SES or public schools with no finances, what kept me motivated were those consejos and the strong work ethic my mother instilled in me.” As someone who identifies as Chicana at Penn, I was very interested in how Patty owned her Chicana identity. Since she has a Master’s degree in Chicano/Chicana studies it was understandable when she paused for a while and wondered out loud, “How do I say this shortly and succinctly? Chican@ is a term loaded with commitment and passion”, and it is a term that she consciously and firmly identifies with. “Being Chican@ means working towards social justice for the community. I use the word community loosely not just to mean Chicanos or Latinos or Hispanics, a larger community that is underserved.” It is clear to me that Patty’s identity and her work are intertwined.
When asked about her motivation to go to college and graduate school, Patty immediately answered “my mom”. The daughter of two undocumented parents, Patty witnessed the obstacles her parents went through and the sacrifices they made, all in an effort to give her and her brother the opportunity to be suc-
Patty says that she hopes to successfully serve as a resource for the students at Penn. Although the small space in Houston Hall can be an intimidating one in which to get to know people, Patty is more than happy to step outside the cuartito to “grab coffee, talk, be an ally and support [you] in any way”.
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Photograph by Dylan Hewitt
“
PENNSANDO EN
The budget cuts that have affected schools, and thus the children and families in Philadelphia, have left children without a space to learn expressive ways of having their voices heard.”
Through the pictures, journal entries and anthologies of poetry I have left scattered around my house, I have an extensive collection of the traditions that my family and I partook in during my childhood years. My sister, who is ten years younger than me, often revisits this collection and questions the things that have changed and those that have stayed the same since she joined our family. They have provided her with a family history that she was not yet born for but relives every time she flips through the pages of my notebooks and the pictures of my art pads. While my personal musings and writings have allowed me to preserve only the history of my family and our traditions, there are organizations that are focusing on preserving the traditions and culture of entire communities. Casa Monarca is one of them. Casa Monarca is a cultural center in South Philadelphia dedicated to promoting and preserving Latino culture through artistic, educational programs and events. By 2009, Dalia O’Gorman, one of Casa Monarca’s co-founders, had been involved with the Mexican community in South Philadelphia for some time and felt that the Philadelphia community lacked a place where Mexican families could go to simply feel at home. She wanted to create a place where parents and children could go to speak Spanish and feel proud of their nationality. She luckily found Leticia Roa Nixon, who would eventually become the other co-founder of Casa Monarca. Like Dalia, Leticia felt that the Philadelphia community needed a “Mexican home” where people could feel like the culture and history of Mexico had transcend physical national borders. Casa Monarca accomplishes this goal by hosting series of workshops for both parents and children of the community. For example, there is a Mexican Folklore dance troupe made up completely of students that perform all around Philadelphia. The children have also participated in workshops dedicated to Mayan culture where they used clay to create authentic Mexican handcrafts and piñata making. Furthermore, they expand their efforts and have also tried to educate the community by holding bilingual bike safety courses.
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BY TIFFANY GOMEZ
N NUESTRA COMUNIDAD Although Casa Monarca was intentionally founded as a house for families of Mexican descent, it has become a place where families from all around Latin America can feel at home. The diversity within the center has taught the children about the different cultures that exist not only in Philadelphia, but in the world. Casa Monarca does not only want to be a place that is appreciated by Latin American families, but they want to showcase their organization and integrate with the Philadelphia community Every year, the students of Casa Monarca reenact the Battle of Puebla; the famous battle remembered through its anniversary on Cinco de Mayo. While this was usually done in Spanish, in 2012, Casa Monarca decided to have the event in English as well in order to be inclusive of the whole Philadelphia community. They want all of Philadelphia to understand Latin American history, culture and patriotism. While Casa Monarca wants to preserve Mexican culture, the reason its founders, directors, and volunteers continue to support the community center is because they realize that future generations of Latinos need to find their voice early on in their lives. Mirna Ramirez, Casa Monarca’s Program Coordinator, acknowledges that every generation has its own set of challenges and this generation’s challenge happens to be education. The budget cuts that have affected schools, and thus the children and families in Philadelphia, have left children without a space to learn expressive ways of having their voices heard. Casa Monarca has stepped up to fill those shoes and become a space that provides children with the tools to help them gain the artistic education they may not receive in school. La Vida, Lambda Theta Alpha Latin Sorority Inc., and Club Colombia had the pleasure of volunteering for a workshop at Casa Monarca. I met a little girl there who reminded me a lot of myself when I was little. She wrote a story about the times when her family from Colombia visit during the holidays. She went on to describe how they read the novena leading up to Christmas just like my family does every year and how her Abuelita made a special meal every year on Christmas Eve. Essentially, she was
writing a part of the history of her family, just like I have been doing since I learned how to form letters into words. Daniela was writing not only her story, but the story of the Latino child born from Latin-American immigrants. Like Daniela, I grew up in a home where my family made sure the morals and values that they had brought with them from Colombia were instilled in me, while still letting me be my “American self.” I, just like Daniela has, or will in the future, had to find a way to combine my two identities in a way that made me comfortable with who I was and still allowed me to identify with my family. Luckily, Daniela has Casa Monarca to guide her through this process and make her proud of her roots and the way she grew up. When talking to many of the children in Casa Monarca, they all had one thing in common: because they loved it there so much, most wanted to return as volunteer art teachers. They all personified the values and ideas which incited Dalia and Leticia’s desire to open up the center: they wanted Casa Monarca to become the community. More than just creating an avenue for future artists, writers and thinkers, Casa Monarca is cultivating future leaders. After the 2008 election that deemed Barack Obama the first African American president, Dalia emphasized teaching the children of Casa Monarca about the importance of this particular inauguration. She remarked that “one of my own students could be like Barack Obama whose dream was maybe to become President of the United States and today, his dream came true.” She also mentioned that this was the first time children would see someone from a minority background assuming the role of president and she thought it was important for them to become aware of this because they needed to know that this marked a step towards future progress. Tomorrow, they could be assuming similar positions and they need to be aware that anything is possible.
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MY PEOPLE’S HANDS BY GIOVANNA PINEDA
So, getting ready to go home for Spring Break? Oh, you’re not going home? Let me see if I can stay awake. Is it Cali or Cabo or Aruba or Jamaica? Oh, it’s Mexico? You know what, I’ll see you later. You think you know my country Because you’ve heard of tequila and donkeys and sombreros Well, why don’t you try telling me about the value of a peso? About the struggle of the woman on the corner, who, if she makes do, can barely afford food for two? The man on the mountain who sells popsicles to tourists, and hopes that at the end of the day, he can keep his children’s cries at bay. The cyclist who was hit by a bus from public transit, by a driver who’ll probably go free the next day, and who’ll probably keep driving the exact same way. Do you know how hard it is for my people to fight to be considered equal? Do you know about the man in office who was hated by many and chosen by few? Do you know where those mangos and those tacos come from? The hands of my people, calloused and red, are exactly what’s keeping you fed, and all you can do is wonder if they’ll have an open bar, and if you’re gonna be able to rent a nice car, and if the Wi-Fi box isn’t too far, and if, when you arrive to the hotel, whether or not the guys will speak Mexican. But, you know, maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better that you don’t realize what you’re saying. Because I think, if you did, all you would do is think, ‘Why hasn’t anyone done something to stop it?’ and about a week later, you’d probably drop it. Because no one cares and we’re all too busy, and a bunch of statistics just makes you feel dizzy, like those midnight margaritas, ‘cause you can’t hold whiskey. So then I wonder why I write these words that I feel inside. ‘Cause I don’t think you could ever know much more than maids, and gardeners, and that guy who cleans the floor. I don’t think you could ever feel much more, than “Oh,” and “Wow,” and “This is really boring.” Because you see brown skin and you breathe ignorance, and you smell Corona and you hear irrelevance. And, to be honest, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you’ll never understand the ambition and the strength of my people’s hands. The hands that hold, and the hands that hope, the hands that toil, and the hands that cope. The hands that will rise after being brought down, and the hands that make beautiful gowns, and buñuelos and toys and sangria and guitars, and who are much more than that to me, no matter how far. In them, they hold my heart. And I hope you could see that from the moment I started. So, do me a favor and have a good time, but don’t expect to be respected when you get to the front of the line, and speak really loudly and really slowly, in a language your tongue will never possess, because to you, the hands of my people, are just like all the rest.
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Photograph by Rachel Zurier
Photograph by Fabriana Larancuent
Pennsando en Mi Vida BY MELISSA JIMENEZ
THE ONLY WAY It can be difficult to find your niche at Penn. Navigating this large institution can be challenging, especially early on as a student of color who identifies with multiple marginalized communities. I’ll never forget what it felt like to be a freshman during New Student Orientation - a week of socials, dance parties, tours, and lots of slightly draining thirty-second selfintroductions. Then, there was the Activities Fair - a giant sea of flyers, tables, t-shirts, and shouting upperclassmen with free giveaways on Locust Walk. When it was over, I had a bag full of colorful handouts and an inbox full of emails from student organizations I had little intension of joining. I still had no clue which extracurricular to pursue, or which multicultural groups I could relate to the most. When classes began, I remember thinking, when will I actually meet the people I’ll become close with here? Despite my involvements on campus and large social circle, this sentiment carried well into the start of my sophomore year. It wasn’t until joining my sisterhood, Lambda Theta Alpha Latin Sorority, Incorporated (LTA) that I found a diverse family who would be a crucial support system for me as a woman of color navigating higher education. Now, a soon-to be senior, I wish to impart how my sisterhood has enriched my college experience and transformed my perspective of what Greek Life can offer. Greek life wasn’t for me…or so I thought. As an athlete throughout high school, I found the sisterhood I needed on the basketball court or during pre-game huddles on the soccer field. What I didn’t realize until my journey to LTA was that a similar sisterhood could be fostered outside of athletics. I also didn’t fully realize the important historical role that multicultural Greek organizations play in cultivating academic excellence, philanthropic outreach, and long-term solidarity for underrepresented, students of color in higher education. By the time I became a sister in the spring of 2012, Greek life became more than the cliques and parties that I once believed it to be. LTA and the Greek community came to mean family. Historically, Lambda Theta Alpha Latin Sorority, Incorporated was the first Latina sorority in the nation. We were founded in 1975 at Kean University in Union, New Jersey at a time when universities around the nation saw a rapid increase in Latino student enrollment. Fittingly, it became increasingly crucial for Latino students to organize on their respective campuses. LTA now has 120 chapters and is represented in 23 states including Puerto Rico. My chapter, Beta Epsilon, joined the University of Pennsylvania’s multicultural Greek community in 1998 when four
As I drown in the ocean of life I start to think
BY LEXI WHITE
founding sisters envisioned a need for enhanced Latina representation. Today, Beta Epsilon is a metropolitan chapter with Temple University. Our chapter consists of 48 women who demonstrate a commitment to academic excellence, professional development, and our principles of unity, love, and respect. As an active undergraduate sister, I could not ask for stronger alumni mentoring and support, especially from chapter alumni who still reside in the New York/Philadelphia area. My alumni sisters helped with everything from finding housing and employment, to simply lending a listening ear and giving words of advice. Another aspect of LTA that enhanced my college experience is our dedication to providing social, cultural, and educational outreach programs. Recently, LTA sisters collaborated with La Vida Magazine and Club Colombia in working with Philadelphia’s Casa Monarca. We helped the children of Casa Monarca complete a beautiful mural story project and hosted an event on campus where the children, instructors and their families all came together to admire and reflect on the children’s artworkThis event is one example of the collaborations and programs that characterize LTA. Other past events include a college tour and panel we organized for visiting students from New York, a program about rape culture on college campuses, and programs dedicated to increasing World Awareness. LTA’s national philanthropy is St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. We are extremely dedicated to fundraising for the hospital and spreading awareness about childhood cancer in the Latino community. It has been incredibly rewarding for me to participate in the efforts of LTA’s philanthropy, as my own cousin is a leukemia survivor who spent most of her childhood under the care of St. Jude. This past year we raised money for St. Jude and participated in the St. Jude Give Thanks Walk at the Philadelphia Zoo. We also regularly make cards, coloring books, and other uplifting gifts for the children at the hospital. My favorite part about my sisterhood is the diversity it celebrates. LTA welcomes women of all different ethnic backgrounds, sexual orientations, and creeds. We pride ourselves in the motto, “Latin by tradition, not by definition.” LTA provided me with a space where I could embrace, but not be defined, by my mixed Puerto Rican, African American, and Caucasian roots. LTA granted me access into the Latino community that I did not find immediately when I came to Penn. I am glad to have a diverse network of sisters in my own chapter and around the country. As my one-year “Lambdaversary” approaches, I can say with certainty that I’ve done more than find a niche at Penn. I’ve made a lifelong commitment to what I believe to be the best sisterhood around.
Maybe I knew all along that I was going to sink And that the swimming lessons wouldn’t help. As I encounter those succeeding, I wonder Is watching them float on the surface making me go further under? Those floating above me are motivated by their success Those sinking below me are more worried about the way they dress Am I just waiting for someone to extend their hand? The more crowded the top gets by those trying to get a breath of fresh air The lonelier it gets further down and the more that I start to care About rising to the occasion. Pero comienso a Pennsar: Is it really what I want? When I consider failure I feel so nonchalant And once again I stop to think. How did I become this way? How could I let myself even consider to stay? So far down considering how far I have come. My own motivational words used to help me rise But now they’re accompanied by the violent tides As if the ocean wasn’t deep enough to begin with. “Failure is not an option” was programmed into my head; “Go out there and succeed, you have the tools” they said. And now I don’t see that part of me anymore. Y otra vez estoy Pennsando: Where did that part of me go? The part of me that I used to know. The part of me that used to be so sure of herself. And now I question: When will I see that hand to pull me up? When will I get closer to that breath of fresh air? When will the ocean not feel so deep? When will I find that part of me again?
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Manifesto of Revolutionary Beauty BY EMMANUEL MARTINEZ
To have learned a lot about identity, and self-negation, and alternative identities, and what it means to be indigenous, and Afro-adjacent and the concept of eurocentrism, and ideals of appearance and how they are appropriated by deliberate power structures who seek to marginalize and condemn to maintain circles of dominance…To know that we don’t live outside of those circles. It’s understandable that you’ve waivered over who you thought was attractive or not...naturally you are not outside of those circles of influence...and some days they put a gloss over you and might for a while convince you that we are oscillating farther and farther from the false ideals of appearance. They put you on a spell that tells you whose beautiful, that our brown skin is not brown gold, that our eyes are not black emeralds, that our bodies’ hair must be removed, because the only hair that should be allowed to be left on a body is blond hair, because the world has taught you to think that our hair, our black hair is an alternative, an intruder. It is an impeding and ever-growing pain to become a conscious man…one that is learning about the injustices in which he has ignorantly been a victim of all of his life. To have thought once that I was not attractive because I was not attractive, and that I was not sexually desirable because I was not sexually desirable…To think that the universe had devised it to be this way as if there was no conniving vice guiding these concepts of normality and abnormality…the standards of beauty and ugliness…To come to the painstaking realization of being robbed of the truth…of the manipulating lies and biased standards of appearance that had been constructed so far back before our birth. To realize that we are beautiful but that this fact would be one that would be negated. A reparation that would be contested and denied, giving over the claim to legitimacy to those who judge this trial because they too have been veiled by the lie. Recognizing that the identity as a brown, indigene, homosexual man with brown eyes and black hair (with remnants of a French grandfather who people can refuse to believe and because of that he does not care to acknowledge it). Realizing that that identity is dangerous to be acknowledged as being beautiful… Because if those that control the power structures that dictate the normality of appearance declared that that was beautiful you and everyone else in the world would never ever doubt that attractiveness. That’s dangerous even revolutionary because it would supplant the beauty and more importantly the power that those that aim to oscillate closer and closer to the euro-centric ideal gather from maintaining that dominance. Shouldn’t we have a right to be angry and jaded? After being burdened with the truth and consciousness...we should have a right to be. It is a burden to be conscious and we should very much want reparations...The more the injustice being construed against us becomes clearer and clearer the more we must hold contempt against euro-centrism and disarm any semblance within the claim of European descent to superiority. It’s unnerving to realize the slight that is being used on us to beat us down. These conniving power structures have managed to get under our skin and as if through remote operation have unleashed on us...ourselves. It’s the best weapon of destruction...of control and disillusionment. Because they don’t wish to destroy us, at least not until they’ve extracted our worth for their gain and consumption without our interruption. We must not be unconsciously wielding individuals who think we are ugly, and who are paralyzed by a superficial analysis of what is the optimum of appearance, which we think we are not. Abhor the inability that has been forced onto us, to declare we are beautiful. That the weight of the lies, the farce, the systems of marginalization as they apply to appearance carry more legitimacy and authority, than our truth...the honest truth…It’s asphyxiating to always face confrontations and juries who will indefinitely argue for the indictment of our ugliness. To which deep fear and disbelief will be manifest in the paralysis of eloquence and ability to articulate an opposing argument. The saddest thing would be that they have prevailed so well and penetrated our consciousness and conceptualizations within our minds, which has made it way easier for them to force us to see ourselves the way they see us. Pick up like a hound those nuances among those that talk, and how euro-centrism has defiled their consciousness! Insides can’t help but churn and recoil with madness and try to say no don’t do that! Stop the killing of the legitimization of your and my beauty! Don’t ever be apologetic. Just know that this is something that troubles us and concede to the fact you won’t ever have to suffer this injustice that us and other brown and black people have to try to subvert and alter as part of our journey toward the empowerment of all human beings.
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BARCELONA: CAGA TIÓ BY JANINA LAGEMANN-DONÉ
BRAZIL BY JULIO ARIAS
Christmas in Barcelona is a poopy experience. Poopy. Yes, I know, this makes me seem entirely malapropos (that’s an English word, look it up) and a shitty writer too (though that pun was intended). But it’s true: I have never heard the verb “to shit” used as frequently and colloquially as I did during Christmastime in Catalonia. You see, Santa Claus does not come around for Christmas in Barcelona. During the days leading up to 25th of December, Catalan culture prescribes that the children of the family “feed” a Caga Tió, a wooden log with peg legs a painted-on face. On Christmas day, children look forward to whacking the smiling log with a wooden stick after singing incessantly about pooping. This encourages the log to excrete the holiday gifts. This tradition requires some Christmas magic to be performed by animate members of the household, but Caga Tió’s relieved constipation leaves both children and parents elated, Meanwhile, most Latinos continue to gasp at the continued utterance of the rather profane verb: cagar. Bon Nadal? (That’s Feliz Navidad in Catalan, mes amies.)
MY VERSION OF PARADISE BY RACHELLE CLARK
When most people think of “paradise” they think of white sandy beaches, sitting under a palm tree, and staring out at an endless ocean and sky made up of every shade of blue imaginable. This is where I found myself the first weekend of my study abroad experience. Looking back now, Cuba is definitely my own personal paradise, but not because of the beautiful scenery or warm weather. I loved Cuba because I learned how to relax, how to keep an open mind, and how to simply enjoy life! Sure, I “studied” abroad there, but I learned the most by imitating the Cuban lifestyle. You find out for yourself that Cubans speak extremely fast, forcing your knowledge of Spanish to improve exponentially. You learn that socialism may not be all bad because it breeds a culture that values kindness more than material things. You observe that Cubans are all extremely good dancers, but everyone will help teach you how to salsa when you embarrassingly stumble onto the dance floor. You spend countless nights hanging out on the Malecon, not worrying about grades, or money, or the fact that the sun would be coming up in twenty minutes. But being carefree doesn’t mean you are careless. Yes, Cubans have their fair share of problems: the people there are definitely not living the high life of glitz and glamour. However, Cubans live by the motto that everything will work out in the end. And it is because of this lifestyle you find an island full of blissful and happy people. While studying abroad in Cuba I learned a lot about history, economic theories, and philosophy, but my best lesson was in the smiling faces of all my new Cuban friends.
Last fall, I studied abroad in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Even though I had spent a summer in Rio, spending more than four months in what Brazilians call A Cidade Maravilhosa (The marvelous city), surpassed all of my expectations. From staring at the statue of Christ The Redeemer every morning to sipping “água de coco” (coconut water) at dawn at the Ipanema beach, this city is the Latin American version of Shangri La. Moreover, I had the chance to paraglide from Pedra da Gavea. Seeing such an amazing city from the skies is something that cannot be conveyed with words. Simply amazing!
AUSTRALIA BY STACEY ANDRADE
I used to think that days spent alone were a waste with no friends to talk to and no entertainment to keep me from going insane. When I landed in Australia, I knew only one person who was a plane ride away. It was then that I quickly realized that I was to spend many days alone. I better get used to it, I said to myself. Actually, I better like it. There was one particular day that taught me being alone is not only fun and relaxing, but absolutely necessary. I went for a walk around Sydney Harbour, bought lunch at a restaurant (nearly getting killed
CHILE
BY CHELSEA STRICKLAND One of the most memorable aspects of my semester abroad in Santiago, Chile was el movimiento estudantil, the student protest movement sweeping across the capital during the months of August and September. high school and university students organized marches, sit-ins, and protests in order to demand a change from the privatized education system to a system of free and equal education for all regardless of ability to pay . They hoped to sway those with political power to lobby for their goals. Unfortunately, the majority of the student marches were not wellreceived by the public. Los carabineros (Chile’s police force) oftentimes used brutal force and extreme measures to end the unauthorized marches (tear gas, spraying protesters with chemical water, and setting loose police dogs on the crowds), and media coverage of the events oftentimes portrayed the students as violent, unorganized vandals. Having never seen such a large-scale and controversial political/ social movement firsthand, experiencing el movimiento estudantil in Santiago was without a doubt an exciting as well as eye-opening experience.
by some nearby hungry seagulls), ate cookies n’ cream ice cream, and saw my first opera at the Sydney Opera House. Although I was alone the entire time, I learned that I am actually great company for myself. More importantly, I was able to reflect and analyze the impact my experience abroad had in deepening my identity. Those days spent mostly in silence allowed for some peace of mind to settle in. I needed to dive into the sea of new and overwhelming experiences. Looking back, I had some of the best times in Australia. Now that I am back in the States, even though I would consider myself far from being alone, it has helped take days to myself to sit back and think.
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A Call to Latino Physicians
BY EMMANUEL CORDOVA AND MIGUEL HERNANDEZ
The patient-physician trust is one of the most important factors influencing a patient’s quality of care. A lack of trust, which can occur when treating minority patients, puts physicians at a great disadvantage. Latino patients who do not fully trust their physicians are more likely to omit critical information and abstain from prescribed treatments. Latino patients also tend to experience lower quality of care. Trust builds a solid foundation in helping physicians provide culturally competent and effective treatments. According to Newsweek, “Despite a Hispanic population boom, the number of [hispanic] physicians coming out of the community remains stagnant” (Rodriguez). Moreover, a survey by the Pew Hispanic Center indicated there are 3,000 Latino patients to each Latino physician, compared to 335 patients to every doctor (Pew Hispanic Center). This indicates a greater need for Latino physicians who could use their cultural experiences as a vehicle to address their patient’s physiological ailments and also acknowledge the many social and political barriers that exist when accessing healthcare. According to a study by the Pew Hispanic Center, “race and English skills were found to be among the top reasons (behind only lack of insurance) why many Latino patients don’t have a regular primary physician” (Pew Hispanic Center). Latino patients also suffer “disproportionately from cancers, diabetes, asthma, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, HIV/AIDS, obesity, and liver disease” (Rios). Relying on impersonal emergency rooms and clinics amplifies the Latinos’ susceptibility to chronic diseases; illnesses that are easily preventable by visiting and obtaining treatment from a primary care physician. Latino physicians could provide an option for immediate relief. The need to have Latino physicians is reflected in the growing Latino population. Although 14.2 percent of the US population is Latino, only 6.4 percent of students graduating from US medical schools are Latino (Rodriguez). Unfortunately, aspiring Latino doctors face greater challenges when applying to medical school. Apart from the academic obstacles, lack of social capital and community support can decrease a Latino’s ambition to pursue a medical degree. Another factor that can deter Latinos from obtaining a medical degree are the rising costs. The average doctor graduates with a debt of $119,000 (American Medical Student Association). For this reason, many Latinos instead pursue less-expensive careers (Rodriguez). As Penn students, we clearly have many academic resources to ensure our survival through the pre-med process. Still, when we get discouraged, there is rarely a community to rely upon. Latinos can easily get lost in a sea of students that
normally characterize most science pre-medical requirements. However, when people come together and share career aspirations along with their social struggles, it can motivate them to achieve their goals. Obstacles facing Latino pre-med students include lacking guidance from family members who may not have obtained higher education, especially in the medical field. Furthermore, many Latinos must take on part time jobs to help pay for their undergraduate education. This creates an unfair advantage compared to students who have financial security and can devote more time to studying. Lastly, there exists a general lack of knowledge concerning Latino admissions rates and placement in medical schools. There is a need to cultivate an open community that understands what it means to be a Latino at Penn struggling to one day attend medical school. There is an urgency to construct a second family who will be there in your greatest time of need - whether those needs are academic, social, or personal. Latino Pre-Medical Association (LPMA) is just that. This new organization is committed to increasing pre-med retention rates. By fostering a sense of community and engaging students with Latino faculty, LPMA would like to expose students to opportunities both on and off-campus. A few of the keynote activities for next year include a mentoring program with Latino medical students at the Perelman School of Medicine, a lecture series pertinent to Latino health issues, and workshops with admissions personnel from different medical schools. Apart from helping with the academics, LPMA is invested in building a social community where students can study together and personally get to know each other. It is up to us to reshape the health care and medical education systems to include a greater degree of diversity. We are encouraging students interested in Latino health and/or promoting the interest of Latino pre-med students to join LPMA. Please contact Miguel Hernandez or Emmanuel Cordova at miguelh@ seas.upenn.edu and ecordova@sas.upenn.edu, respectively, to learn more and join the Latino pre-med community at Penn. Cited Works: Pew Hispanic Center. “Hispanics, Health Insurance and Health Care Access.” Survey Results. 2009. Online. American Medical Student Association. Medical Student Debt. 2013. Online. 26 March 2013 Rodriguez, Natalie. “Where Are All the Latino Doctors?.”The Daily Beast. Newsweek, 7 Jun 2010. Web. 26 Mar 2013. Rios, Dr. Elena. Telemedicine Critical for Latino Health. 17 May 2012. Online. 26 March 2013.
LDI: Rediscovering the Latino Scholar BY ADAN JUAREZ
The Latino Dialogue Institute (LDI) has served as the academic component of the Center for Hispanic Excellence: La Casa Latina since 2003. At its inception, LDI was a credit-bearing course where students created forums to discuss the social, political, cultural, and historical complexities of the Latino/a experience. Through dialogue, this completely student-run institution challenged the works of contemporary scholars while encouraging the students to challenge their own beliefs. Unfortunately in 2010, LDI lost its credit-bearing component and was restructured into a series of lectures open to all students, not just those enrolled in the class. However, the lack of academic credit depleted student interest, and continued funding became an issue. As a result, LDI currently stands in a state of limbo, working to restore its credit-bearing component. The LDI needs to overcome significant hurdles before returning to its former glory. First, there is the issue of grading students, which tends to clash with the LDI’s foun-
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dation to be run by students. The introduction of a graduate student teacher assistant may not solve the problem since it could result in a curriculum different from what the LDI students envisioned. Next, an academic department needs to adopt the course as one of its own and pay for a standing professor to oversee it. Here lies another problem: which professor would take the responsibility to be liable for a student-run course? Lastly, as LDI tends to be chaired by graduating seniors, upon their departure, the succeeding chairs would have to take time to learn the issues before being able to move forward. The LDI has successfully organized trips to Washington, D.C. and New York City to organizations that are greatly pertinent to Latin America and to Latinos in the U.S. Most recently, LDI took a trip to the NBC studios, The Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture and The Point Community Development Cooperation. The students received a glimpse of the inner workings of NBC Latino, some
forgotten history, and the struggles of a community overcoming adversity. Hence the dialogue that was once held within a classroom now transcends to more relevant locations. Moving forward, LDI is also looking to bring and retain more Latino faculty who are experts in the discussions LDI would like to hold. The co-chairs as well as the task force of LDI would like to continue having thought provoking conversations, but they need your support. LDI needs to return to its former glory because it brings such an important aspect to the Latino scholar. At times, our community tends to be celebrated more for its culture and not enough for its academics. LDI is the perfect place for the Latino scholar to really flourish and bring much prestige to future generations here at Penn. If you would like to get involved in the restructuring or join the dialogue please feel free to email to contact Johnny Irizarry at johnnyi@exchange.upenn.edu.
Musings of a Confused Gringa BY HEATHER BROMFIELD As far as white people go, I’m pretty white. The irony is that I’m from the southernmost part of the southernmost state of the nifty fifty – the one with all of the beaches and bronzed bodies and frost-free winters. I, however, am a Floridian pale enough that my friends have wondered aloud if the big yellow orb fails to tan me because my skin simply reflects sunlight instead of absorbing it. Living in South Florida, however, meant growing up in an exceptionally multiracial and multi-cultural environment, with complex effects on my sense of self. My own feelings of “belonging” were confused substantially by having been raised alongside vibrant ”minority” groups, many of them Spanish-speakers. Growing up, I spent a surprising amount of time oblivious to the extent of my whiteness. Like that puppy that thinks it’s a human because it only lives with other humans, I didn’t realize how “chalky” I was relative to everyone around me until my middle school friend, David, first tried to help me come to terms with this reality.
“
I have a hard time sitting still when I hear a good salsa or merengue beat, but I still can’t really dance for shit.”
“Heather…..” he would start, “…you white.” “No I’m not!” my 14-year-old self would retort defiantly, generating many a raised brow. I eventually did come to terms with my racial identity, but high school turned into a time for cultural questioning. I may have been “White (non-Hispanic)”, but I learned how to speak Spanish quickly and – if I can be permitted a boastful self-appraisal – better than most of my pasty peeps. During my senior year, I became the President of my high school’s Spanish National Honor Society. At our Honor Society lunches, I made fun of the other white kids who tried to eat tamales without first unwrapping the corn husks (not bothering to admit to them or to myself that I, too, had discreetly taken a first bite with the husk still intact). I tried practicing my Spanish with my foreign-born Spanish-speaking friends, but I couldn’t figure out until much later why most of them were far less enthusiastic about this than I was. My parents are a little more typical as far as white Americans are concerned. They never became conversational in another language, having both been raised in affluent, WASP-y suburbs. My dad lived in Puerto Rico for a couple of years, but (to my dismay) only made gringo friends. And to my further disappointment, my parents didn’t feel quite the same way as I did about blasting Maná and Juan Luis Guerra from
the Spanish-speaking emisoras in the car radio. Then, there were the political issues. Around 2006 and 2007, immigration reform re-re-resurfaced as a national issue. Early in high school I made the unfortunate discovery that a few of my family members had begun to make comments ranging from insensitive to flat-out prejudiced about Latinos. At the time, I responded with unbridled (and unproductive) rage, though time has taught me that ignorance and intolerance are best treated with persistent persuasion and calm correction. Being White and non-Hispanic means that I straddle this cultural and political divide in a very different way than my Hispanic peers, but it certainly doesn’t mean that I’m discharged from trying to bridge it. There I was upon my arrival to college: the modestly privileged blonde girl who felt slightly more comfortable surrounded by Spanish speakers in Florida than by students at Penn even though I was, at best, still only conversational in the language. But I gravitated towards the few Spanish speakers that I could find, and joined the aching chorus for warmer climates, Latin music, and Cuban food. Adding to my confusion, at Penn I began taking Portuguese for Spanish Speakers for fun and subsequently decided to study abroad in Brazil. I only learned later that the gringo brain is able to process either Spanish or Portuguese, but generally not both. I didn’t notice the extent to which the linguistic switch had flipped until I returned to the States and tried ordering from the Cuban waitstaff ladies at the Miami airport, and found that words like pollo con arroz y frijoles suddenly gave the sensation that my tongue was a small beached whale, convulsing helplessly on the fleshy shores of my confused mouth. Yet I still feel a mixed sense of identity. I have a hard time sitting still when I hear a good salsa or merengue beat, but I still can’t really dance for shit. I still have difficulty with my spoken Spanish, but I still follow along knowingly when I read Junot Diaz’s work. I complain about American imperialism in Latin America and elsewhere and about the lack of recognition as to what kind of privilege exists in this country, but I don’t blame the Latinos I meet for eyeing me with wariness when their Spanish accents cause me to start speaking in English with a Spanish accent, a totally unintentional phenomenon that I call “linguistic sympathy.” And despite my personal feelings of belonging, I know I still need to be careful with how I express these feelings. I don’t think that I have the right (or that I should have the right) to speak about the experiences of Latinos in the United States. But in the end, perhaps I can use a term that’s normally reserved for another contemporary group seeking recognition and respect for their status – a term that suggests a serious personal proximity with an issue that one doesn’t experience directly: Aliada.
Concentration by Terrill Warrenburg
The Tourist
BY MIGUEL ALDACO
It’s her first time in Beirut so Maria wants an authentic dish, homespun as a bowl of Aunt Chuca’s albondigas on a San Diego orange hangover morning. You see, she is la raza, the race of the cosmos, those effervescent feather serpents: her brown people who tore from their pyramids laying waste to her brown people until those who gave her a name cast their horrible armor upon her shore. Together they forged Mexican Highway 15, erecting a million steeples, billions served. Hers is a people, found and found again who pitch for the genuine article. A people like hers hunger only for what the Sultan’s sons dine on, what the monkey suited narguile boys take in beneath tapestries, and she expects the nation’s beverage of choice. Her mouth moist, she bites into the Burger King, the french fries and on her hotel veranda Maria makes a promise to share a Pepsi with her abuela the next time she goes to visit.
15
Sin Nombre
BY GIONNI PONCE