Double Issue
Que Ondee Sola
Issue 45, Volume 2
Afro-Latino March 2017
Letter Letterfrom fromthe theEditors Editors ¥Bienvenidos a todos! Welcome everyone! This edition of Que Ondee Sola is a double issue that is very near and dear to us. It is dedicated to our Afro-Latino community and to Latinas. QOS has historically honored African-American history month through its Afro-Latino issue and Women’s HERstory month through the Latina issue, and this is a tradition we are proud to continue. This edition features two covers, one on the front and one on the back, each commemorating the themes in our double issue. We are extremely proud to display these covers as they are original artwork from QOS staff members, another tradition that QOS has featured in its past. The beauty of this issue represents our commitment to promoting Latinx talent, interests and community leaders. We hope that you enjoy reading our issue as much as we have enjoyed putting it together, but we also hope this inspires you to come share your talents with us as a staff. We are always eager to grow in ideas, staff and dedication. As we begin to plan for our next issue, we would like to thank the contributing writers that helped make QOS amazing and look forward to featuring more of your writing. We would also like to extend a heartfelt thanks to the NEIU media board and our advisors for supporting us as we continue on with our issues and event planning. Gracias a todos, thank you all Your Editors-in-Chief, Robin Bridges and Jacklyn Nowotnik
Table of Contents THE AFRO-LATINO SIDE
Que Ondee Sola Staff
Letter from the Editors Written by Robin Bridges and Jacklyn Nowotnik AfriCaribe’s Monthly Bombaso.................................4 Written by Robin Bridges Photos by C.G. Hernandez If I Were a History Teacher.......................................6 Written by Bianca Corral and Andrew Neftalí Pérez No Singular Terms:Intersectional Feminism in One Woman’s Words..........................................................7 Written by C.G. Hernandez
Binary Fold..............................................................10 Written by Trudy Leong Mis Raíces de Marrón Oscuro (My Dark Brown Roots).......................................................................11 Written by Rut Ortiz Plantando Semillas .................................................12 Written by Jacklyn Nowotnik Photos by Robin Bridges About the Cover Artist............................................14
Editors- In-Chief Robin Bridges Jacklyn Nowotnik Managing Editor Daniel Montesdeoca Writers in this Issue Bianca Corral Janet Garcia C.G. Hernandez Trudy Leong Rut Ortiz Andrew Neftalí Pérez Dr. Milka Ramirez Evelyn Sanchez Idoia Solano Covadonga Solares Graphic Designer/ Production Staff Brisa Becerril Contributing Artists Alfredo Miranda
Misión / Mission Statement Established in 1972, Que Ondee Sola remains the oldest Puerto Rican and Latina/o Student Magazine in the U.S. Established at Northeastern Illinois University the magazine is student run with participation from faculty, staff, alumni and community members. Our mission is to provide the NEIU community with a relevant and engaging publication that deals with student issues with a focus on Puerto Ricans and Latinas/os, our communities and our patrias. Que Ondee Sola continues to affirm the right of Puerto Rican self-determination, freedom for all Puerto Rican political prisoners, and support for a truly participatory democracy. Que Ondee Sola is published at Northeastern Illinois University. The opinions expressed in Que Ondee Sola do not necessarily reflect those of the Administration. Responsibility for its contents lies solely with the staff. We appreciate and encourage suggestions and contributions.
Que Ondee Sola 5500 N. St. Louis Chicago, IL 60625 Room E-041 | QueOndeeSolaMag@gmail.com
AFRICARIBE AfriCaribe’s Music and Dance Spring 2017 Academy began its classes this April. Located at the Africaribe Cultural Center on Paseo Boriqua (Division Street) in the Humboldt Park neighborhood, they teach drumming, music and dance to children and adults of all ages. The center promotes a fun and free space to explore while paying homage to the African roots that run deep through the Caribbean. Evaristo “Tito” Rodriguez started the academy in 2000 and his goal was to provide Chicago with a way to celebrate Africa’s presence in the Caribbean has been realized. There are four main programs as part of AfriCaribe. First, the academy which allows dancers and musicians to teach Bomba to a future generation. Second, the ensemble which performs folk music and dance from Puerto Rico and the Caribbean all over the city and beyond. Third, the producers who put on events and conferences for learning. Lastly, the educators who lead the workshops and lectures. The non-profit organization aims to share the traditions, language and culture of the Caribbean with Chicago. Their spring session began April 15 and provides children’s and adults classes in Bomba Dance and drumming.
Photos provided by C.G. Hernandez and the Africaribe Cultural Center
AfriCaribe Monthly Bombazo Come share amongst family and friends… We are family and community friendly… bomberos y bomberas del barrio los esperamos como siempre! ¡Bomba! ¡Cultura! ¡Comunidad! ¡Unidad!
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IF I WERE A HISTORY TEACHER... Written by Bianca Corral and Andrew Neftalí Pérez I’d teach them about our culture About the struggles we’ve been through How people look down And put down But we, like to get down Tenemos baile y comida and a million different words for simple shit like vida y tiempo You push your way in Create based on your own agenda You water down our cultures Make our Azúcar taste like Splenda We’re raising money to help inner-city kids They’ve put together a performance, Would you like to see what they did? Fuck your Dance for me Sing for me In spanish In spanish In spanish Fundraiser Esto aquí no es mi idioma It’s the language of conquistadores You came, you saw, you conquered Made paletas and piraguas gourmet Didn’t care that little Eduardo in homeroom 201 and his dad live day to day Selling those paletas, paycheck to paycheck Charging $2.50, trying to make rent You price them $4.80, slap on organic labels and think you’ve got every right to sit at this table You don’t have to like what I’m saying Si quieres, cubrete los oidos pa’ que no me escuches So, it doesn’t matter if I talk like this Ó si hablo así Since half of you still won’t try and understand me Imagine if I still spoke in my native tongue Taíno: La lengua de Puerto Rico, Borinquen La Isla de Encanto Boriqua!
Now a commonwealth of the U.S. because it’s common for us to steal wealth When we infiltrate and instate people with OUR motives in mind Leaving their BORICUA PEOPLE behind Paying off soldiers to keep their mouths SHUT About the people they silence and keep unfairly locked up Can’t even wave our flag with pride In fear we’ll end up like our brothers who’ve died Trying to raise their people up from the ground Freedom is not for everyone that’s what we’ve found Nahuatl: the language of Mexico We are far more than Cancún and those elitist resorts Yet somehow you still feel like you need to build a fort To keep yourself safe from people you robbed Built a railroad but made us do the job Take our piñas and fresas And tell us it’s good for us You’re helping us You care for us But God, No! Diosito lindo, forbid If one parent heard me, they wouldn’t let me teach their kid “Our real history is too much for sixth grade” Don’t let them find out the mistakes this country made Far more worried about profit and secrecy Killing off kids that look like Her and me But it’s okay, it’s two degrees removed Once we build a wall, It’ll no longer be in the news Because we live in America “Land of the Free” Where you’re “free” to be who you want to be Just not Too dark Too foreign Too ghetto Too much Just different enough to be entertaining That’s when y’all give a fuck
No Singular Terms: Intersectional Feminism in One Woman’s Words
C. G. Hernandez
“My feminism will be intersectional or it will be bullshit,” Melissa DuPrey exclaimed, quoting the title of Latina writer Flavia Dzodan’s article published online in the Tiger Beatdown. DuPrey, a Chicago native Puertorriqueña actress and comedienne who strongly identifies as Afro-Boricua and advocates about the significance of knowing how intersectionality is part of feminism. For DuPrey, intersectionality is the true essence of feminism. It has helped her figure out who she is. Feminism is not about caring “only for equal pay,” but it’s also about fighting for the Black Lives Matter movement, for immigration reforms and for LGBTQA rights. Feminism is equality for all–it’s inclusive and full of color. Intersectional feminism is about advocating for the marginalized; it’s about demanding equal rights to be human, regardless of sexual orientation, sex, religion and especially skin color. When DuPrey went to the Women’s March in Chicago on Jan. 21, she absorbed the scenery around her. She was surrounded by women laughing and chanting as they held up the posters they’ve made. Many of these posters h a d one focal point: the importance of the equality for women. They all showcased the yearning these women have for equality, for reproductive rights and DuPrey could not have been more blown away from the intensity of it. Women’s March on Chicago’s website estimated 250,000 women and allies gathered at Grant Park to show their support for “women’s rights, civil liberties, and diverse issues.” While that might have been the goal, DuPrey was profoundly aware that she was one of the few black faces amid a white crowd. “I was deeply saddened by the fact that most of the people out there were white women,” Duprey confessed. “They claim to be feminists, but they are not out for intersectional causes. As a woman of color– a Latina, black woman, I find that my activism has to be intersectional. Nothing about me is a singular term!” Both of DuPrey’s parents are from Arecibo, Puerto Rico. While her father is dark, the rest of her family has lighter skin. Growing up, she was aware that she was the black one, la negrita of the family, which left DuPrey questioning her identity as a Puertorriqueña. She was teased about her skin
color and her hair; her hair being curly and big, she felt like no one knew how to handle her hair since it had a different texture than others. “There’s a certain amount of shame that came with [being black] as a young person,” DuPrey said. She felt like she had to know who she was first in order to truly accept her appearance–to accept herself. When she went to Texas for her undergraduate work at the University of Houston, many people there judged her to be black, while others labeled her as simply “Latina.” The Puerto Rican community was not very present in Texas, which forced DuPrey to proudly declare herself Puerto Rican. She would wear shirts, earrings, shoes and book bags with the Puerto Rican flag on them, proudly showcasing her heritage. “I was literally a walking flag,” DuPrey said while laughing, and, at the time, that was enough to make her feel like she knew who she really was. Toward the end of her undergrad work, DuPrey and her mother suffered a home invasion that left them both traumatized. “I said ‘I’m done,’” DuPrey recalled, after graduating with two B.A. degrees in Spanish and Theatre. “‘I need to go back home to my community and family, and I need time to heal.’” She spent two months in her grandmother’s house trying to rebuild her life when she was reintroduced to Bomba. After an emotionally hard day, DuPrey went to have a few drinks when she heard Bomba playing upstairs. As she investigated the music, she discovered an all-female class learning how to dance and play Bomba.
(Center) Melissa Duprey in her role as Detective Luisa Flores on Chicgao P.D. (October 2016)
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“It was such a spiritual awakening,” DuPrey said. “It was the path to me rebuilding and finding myself because I had been so lost.” Bomba had been around DuPrey all of her life. It was often danced in festivals and parades, viewed as something that can be compared to Mardi Gras–only for special occasions, something people just do. Bomba was actually everywhere; it was almost taken for granted. DuPrey dove head-first into playing Bomba; she was a part of the band and played the music. Coincidentally, she found out that her aunts and elder relatives were successful musicians – Awilda Sterling-DuPrey was a part of “LosPleneros de la 21,” “[Bomba is] Puerto whom played during an African by design.” episode of Sesame Street back in the early ‘80s. “I didn’t know that [Bomba] was a part of my legacy,” DuPrey said, sounding pleasantly surprised. She loved to play Bomba because, to her, it was a way to resist white supremacy and privilege. “It was a way to push back against the things that made me feel like I’m not worthy, or that I don’t belong. . . or that I’m not beautiful.” Upon her arrival back to Chicago and rediscovering Bomba, DuPrey felt like she had to take a step further into exploring her identity. Unlike Texas, Chicago has a thriving Puerto Rican community; being Puerto Rican simply wasn’t enough anymore. DuPrey loved her skin color, but she didn’t know how she fit in with the black communities and with Latino/as that were lighter than her. “I know who I am, but who I am in relation to all of you . . . that’s more challenging,” DuPrey said. Bomba helped her realize that her people have African roots and she had an African heritage to praise. While
Bomba is often seen as a part of Puerto Rican culture, DuPrey argues that it’s more than that. “It’s Puerto Rican, yes,” she said. “But it’s African by design.” Bomba is a popular folk dance in Puerto Rico that has native Taino, African and Spanish influences; like DuPrey, Bomba is intersectional with all three cultures that thrive in Puerto Rico. It’s considered to be a challenge between dancer and drummer, where the drummer follows the dancer and provides a synchronized beat. Bomba can be traced to the early European Colonial Period in Puerto Rico. The Africans created Rican, yes. But it’s enslaved Bomba as a way to pray and escape hardships, while still communicating with each other since many African families were split up. The folk dance was often prohibited by the slave owners since they were sure the dance was a way to organize rebellions. “My connection to Bomba was very visceral,” DuPrey said. After she researched the history of Bomba, she could identify more with her African heritage. “I can’t hide this, nor would I want to,” DuPrey said. Instead of shying away from her blackness, DuPrey embraces it. For years, she felt like she didn’t fit into one little Puerto Rican or Black box. She struggled to know her true identity. As she pursued her acting career and gained recognition in that community, she would always go back to her roots and remember that she’s more than one label. “My choice to identify as Afro-Boricua is a very strong stance to say I am resisting the erasure of my African heritage,” DuPrey said. “I’m making sure I lift that.”
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Currently Duprey works as general manager for Free Street Theatre. The Theatre, founded in 1969, is the definition of diverse community theatre. Part of their mission is to create original performance with and for Chicago’s communities, especially those that are normally invisible. They provide performances, training, and affordable theatre for and within the communities they serve. One of Free Street’s most notable projects is the two-year ensamble youth program. Teens 13 to 19 years-old create, design and perform their own shows with the help of professionals like Duprey and her team. A lot of those youth move on to the multigenerational program, in which young adults age 19 and older keep creating performances and other grassroots projects of their own. Free Street Theatre is based in Pulaski Park (1419 West Blackhawk). Beginning May 18 Artist-In-Residence Lani Montreal is hosting a four day multimedia festival on motherhood’s joys and challenges. Showtimes, dates and ticket pricing can be found at FreeStreet.org.
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Binary Fold Written by Trudy Leong Shaded bend, a bond Faded trend - night dawn On a hyphen, Faint gasp teetering First light siphoned, Blank passage hymning Hued stain, no such pain Amassed gain, blood chain. Buoyant torrents Jabbed, scabbed warrants‌ Arise Raw simmering map: Tightened Dulcimer tone gap.
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Rut Ortiz
Mis Raíces de Marrón Oscuro My Dark Brown Roots
When I was a kid I used to get picked on a lot because my hair was different. It’s kinky and unruly and it’s been a source of many tears, many times over. This is not a piece to gain sympathy or indulge in selfpity. I want this to be more of a reflection of what it has been like being a Hispanic woman with Afro-Boricua features and how learning self-acceptance has brought me this far. I will begin with this: being a kid is already an awkward experience. You don’t what’s happening to yourself and emotions are volatile. I was an awkward kid going through an already awkward experience . My hair grows out in tight curls, and my curls grow in a zigzag pattern. My parents kept a short afro haircut on me so as to make it easier to get me ready every morning. As smart as that was, combing and detangling my hair hurt my head and it was so painful I would cry. School was a completely different world than home. I was told I was ugly, and I didn’t really belong anywhere. Hispanic girls didn’t reach out to me and neither did anyone else, so I floated awkwardly to and from school every day, mostly keeping to myself and the books that I read. I felt like the odd, ugly duckling for years. It wasn’t until I was 10 years old when we had a verbal assignment in our fifth grade class, that I was fed up. I don’t remember what the assignment was exactly, but I was telling the class about myself. When I said that I was a girl, kids started snickering. They laughed at me and said I was lying. They said I was a boy, because of my hair. That moment was determinant of how I felt towards my dark, brown curly hair for the remainder of my grammar school years, my high school years and even all of my twenties. I remember hating feeling different and hating my natural hair because it didn’t look like hair other Puerto-Rican girls had. I remember high school and the boys I dated asked me why I didn’t change my hair. What were their reasons? They said it was because other girls had hair that was so much prettier than mine.
I’m no longer dating them. However, by the age of 16, I’d used a chemical straightening treatment on my hair for six years because I was fed up with being teased for it. I wanted to be like “other,” “regular” or even “normal” girls. I wanted to be beautiful. During my twenties, I had “friends” who berated me for chemically treating my hair. If I missed a treatment for whatever reason, I also had “friends” who berated me for not doing anything with it. I love how people feel the need to tell you how to handle something in your life when they have either never experienced it or have absolutely zero solutions for you. I am no longer friends with these people. I kept up the treatments to my hair until 11 months ago. Today, I am in my early thirties and about to graduate with my bachelor’s degree, but every so often I think back and I still feel like that awkward little girl with the afro. The texture of my hair has changed because of everything I’ve put in it to achieve Kardashian-esque locks, and that is my own fault. It took me years to get to a place where I love myself for who I am rather than whom society wants me to be. What did I do to get here? I stopped caring about what other people think. What saddens me the most is that I’ve arrived at this place of both self-awareness and selfacceptance but there are children and young adults everywhere who will feel that conforming to what the world wants is crucial to their self-identity. That is simply not true. There’s beauty hidden in this big, scary world. People will do and think what they like, however I believe every day is a chance to see beauty where others see flaw. It may be tarnished but it’s there. As much as it has changed, my hair is still kinky and unruly but it’s no longer a source for my tears. It’s my own personal celebration.
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Plantando Semillas: Strengthening the Latino Pipeline to NEIU
“Plantando Semillas” is annual event for Que Ondee Sola. The name literally means to “plant the seeds.” The goal of this year’s “Plantando Semillas” focus was on strengthening the Latino student pipeline from high school to Northeastern Illinois University. We wanted to let students know that there are amazing faculty on campus that care about their students’ successes and great support systems available to them. This year we invited students from Foreman High School through their Gear Up program. The students ended their day with a tour of the campus and a musical performance from Lester Rey, an NEIU ENLACE alum. We hope to see these students in the near future as incoming freshmen and plan to build stronger partnerships with our feeder schools through “Plantando Semillas.” Our next event will take place during the fall semester and focuses on the Latino resources at NEIU and nuestros comunidades. The Latino open house should be an experience for students and a chance for everyone to get to know each other. We will also recognize Grito de Lares, a historic event in Puerto Rican and Que Ondee Sola history. Look for details in our education issue on stands in May.
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Students from Foreman High School's Gear Up program engaging in a team building activity as Jacklyn Nowotnik leads the activity. (Photos from the left and top of page) Zayiona poses for a selfie with Jacklyn Nowotnik and Robin Bridges after winning musical merengue. Congratulations Zayiona! (Picture to the right)
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About our Afro-Latino Cover Artist
The image used on the cover was made using chalk pastel and cotton swabs. “I wanted to convey the origin of humanity, which is Africa. All we have to do is look within ourselves to draw this out. Once we have understood this then perhaps humanity can attain great feats of marvelous achievements as one and look beyond the superficial,� said Alfredo Miranda.
About Alfredo Miranda My work is always adapting to fit what I want to convey and with time my views and ideas change. I primarily work with dry mediums such as graphite, pens, and markers. I also use a wide range of other mediums to bring forth results that cannot be achieved by a single medium. I use these mediums because of the overall quality and detail they allow me to render. My work is primarily composed in two dimensions. My art showcases scenes, a story that I envision and what transpired in my past and present. What permeates throughout my work are portraits and human figures. I incorporate many living objects as well as inanimate objects. From these subjects, I draw a narrative at times it’s straight forward but for the most part the meaning must be deciphered. The meaning must be observed through the works in the series and how they weave together an overall meaning to the series. Many of my works are the result of an extensive search for imagery that I have accumulated throughout the years. I organize them and take parts from them that I could integrate into my work. This would include the color schemes and the positioning of subjects. I also use the images for references for certain objects such as people, wildlife, landscapes. Alongside this I include my own imagery with those from the web to bring forth a concept that connects with me and what I envision. Imagery plays a very important part in my work, it must resound with me and with my audience. What I want the audience to draw from my work is a glimpse into my internal world and external world alongside my vision and interpretation of it.
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About our Latina Cover Artist “The image on the cover is the first thing that came to mind when I heard this was the Latina issue of QOS. I used acrylic paint and paint markers on canvas, a medium I am comfortable with. To me a Latina is not just someone que tiene piel morena, pelo negro y que es chiquita pero picosa, but she can be. A Latina can be black como el cafe sin leche, white como espuma del mar, canela brown, sunny yellow, iridescent gold, veridian green, midnight blue; it doesn’t matter. What connects all Latinas is their espiritu de luchonas. They are there to cultivate the seeds of future ideas and help push them forward,” said Brisa “BriBe” Becerril.
About Brisa “BriBe” Becerril
Born in California and now residing in Evanston, Ilinois, Brisa Becerril has always been intrigued by her heritage. Her work examines the Chicana woman’s identity and role in today’s society. Dealing with mostly drawing, Brisa uses different styles and mediums to explore the paradox of Chicanismo. She received a B.A. in Studio Art from Northeastern Illinois University in 2016. Before graduating she won several awards for her design work at the university’s newspaper, the Independent. As an Art Club officer she helped organize the Darkness show held at Genesis Gallery (4201 South Archer Ave, Chicago, IL) as well as the painting of several murals around the NEIU campus. She has participated in several art shows in Chicago and Blue Island. She currently works as a commissioned tattoo, mural, and graphic design artist.
Three pieces from Brisa’s first solo show “21” (left to right): “Conquistados, Conquistamos” “Silenciada” y“El Lobo Feróz”
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UNDERSTANDING MY IDENTITY:
Race and Location Idois Solano and Covadonga Solares
IDOIA: I’ve always been inspired to travel; to meet new people, places and cultures. After visiting several countries all across Europe, my continent, I decided to take it a step further, pack all my stuff and begin what has become the most remarkable adventure in my life so far. I was determined to live and study for a year in Chicago, as a Spanish international student at Northeastern Illinois University.
“Until I lived in Chicago, I never realized that it is something that all the Spanish speakers share in a sense, regardless of the ocean that keeps us apart.” Just talking about it would make me excited. I knew I was ready, and I was finally going to make it after dreaming about it my entire life. However, just the idea of leaving my country, my family, my comfort zone and having to face a totally different society with different rules and culture overnight was the scariest thing I could imagine. In the end, my passion for traveling was stronger than my fear. I landed in Chicago at O’Hare airport on Aug. 20, with a suitcase full of dreams, doubts and a strong determination to grow and learn. And that’s exactly what I have been doing since. By the time I left Spain, I knew few things about Latino culture and what it means. Until I lived in Chicago, I never realized that it is something that all the Spanish speakers share in a sense, regardless of the ocean that keeps us apart. As a Spaniard I always thought of myself and my compatriots more as Europeans than as Latinos or as what we understand as Hispanic. The majority of Spaniards identify Latino and Latina with the South American immigrants that live in our country. In a wider perspective, with all the American countries that have Spanish as their language. However, this is a quite narrow perspective, as the concept of “American Countries” is way too broad to put it altogether under the same name. When it comes to culture, every country has its own identity. Nevertheless, a few weeks living within the
culturally diverse Windy City were enough to make me realize one thing: all of the Spanish speakers are much more alike than we might think, no matter our country of origin. Our rich language is not the only thing we share, but also sets of values, characters and a sense of community that makes us all more related and closer. This sense of community is what ties us closer to one another. COVA: Being another one of the Spanish international students that landed in Chicago almost six months ago, I never considered my identity anything else than a white European. I couldn’t have been more wrong. NEIU gave me a pleasant surprise when I discovered that it was such a culturally diverse institution, full of students that came from unique and various backgrounds. Each of them had a rich culture to share and different points of view that helped broaden my own, and get to know things that I couldn’t have imagined. A reconsideration of my own identity was also something that I found at Northeastern. When people first get to know me, they all realize I have an accent (regardless of my efforts to get rid of it) and can’t help but ask me where I am from. The word Spanish coming out of my mouth almost always leads them to associate me with Latin America, and they categorize me as a Latina, something that I had never related to before. All of this confusion made me reconsider my own nature. Could I be identified as a Latina even though I was white and born in Europe?
“Each of them had a rich culture to share and different points of view that helped broaden my own, and get to know things that I couldn’t have imagined.” After all the time that I’ve spent here getting closer and closer to the Latino community with people whose background ranges from Puerto Rico to Colombia, I think I am pretty sure of what my answer would be now: Yes. For me, being a Latina is not related to the geographic location where you were born in but the set of values and culture you feel identified with, the lifestyle that describes you as a person. As a Spaniard I feel incredibly close to the Latin American culture, not just because we share a common language but because we have a similar understanding of life that creates a natural bond regardless of the ocean that separates us.
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In the Country We Love: My Family Divided’ Evelyn Sanchez
There were more than 11 million undocumented immigrants living in the United States in 2014, according to the Pew Research Center, many of whom have citizen children. Diane Guerrero, from Netflix’s “Orange is the New Black” and the CW’s “Jane the Virgin,” reveals her story detailing her experience growing up in the United States without the support of her close family due to the deportation of her parents and sibling.
faced is also depicted in her memoir through stories that illustrate her schooling and her experience
growing up. She suffered from periods of depression and had issues of unaddressed trauma due to the deportation of her family and lack of stability. She did not have a strong support system and ended up in financial ruins. Eventually, she ended up seeking help from a psychologist who encouraged her to address her issues and pursue her dreams of acting. It was through this source of support that she was able to excel and address her issues around deportation. Using her experiences as a springboard for her memoir, the book highlights the need for advocacy in terms of proper legal information and guidance for undocumented immigrants. As Guerrero says in her book, “Our passions don’t just compel us; they can also heal us.” Adequate immigration legal guidance is often seldom and scarce, especially if there is a concern of deportation if one identifies himself or herself as an undocumented immigrant and seeks assistance. Another area in need of advocacy is proper social emotional support for children whose parents have been deported or who are currently in fear of being deported. Being a high school counselor, I have seen firsthand how the fear of deportation and family separation has affected my students psychologically. Especially in terms of feelings, isolation and anxiety are emotions I see in them often. These issues cannot be seen solely as immigrant rights, but that of a human rights issue. There needs to be continued support and advocacy for this vulnerable population. In addition we need awareness of this issue to those working with students in order to create a global understanding that can lead to the She was 14-years-old, when her parents and broth- betterment of our society. er, were arrested and deported to their native Colombia. Guerrero, who is a United States citizen, became aware of her family's situation by the age of seven and ”Our passions don’t just compel us; they lived in fear of being separated from her family. This can also heal us.” caused her upbringing to be difficult, as she faced a -Dianne Guerrero, Author and Actress lack of stability and security. Her story highlights her journey as an adolescent growing up with psychological and academic Evelyn Sánchez is roadblocks, and entails how she uses these experiences currently a high school and her own personal story to become an advocate for counselor in the south undocumented immigrants. Much of her own family’s suburbs of Chicago. She experience with the immigration process in the Unithas an undergraduate ed States can resonate with that of current families that degree in Psychology face the same fears of deportation. Her family intendand a master’s degree in ed to pursue permanent legal status but a combination School and Community of factors stood in their way. Counseling, both from One fear was that applying for residency would put DePaul University. She them on the United States Immigration and Customs is currently enrolled in Enforcement’s (ICE) radar and get them deported. the ENLACE fellows proThey also had financial constraints and even worked gram, which is a graduate multiple jobs to pay for an immigration attorney. The program in Educational legal counsel they sought and received ended up beLeadership in Higher Eding incorrect and the attorney stole their hard-earned Evelyn Sanchez ucation at NEIU. money and disappeared.
The psychological turmoil that Guerrero
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Chicana Written by Janet Garcia You are the plant of life, the plant of empowering, You are the rose that has been blossoming, A woman you ARE, You are the star, That’s equivalent to a never ending reach, You are as sweet as a peach, yet tough as the skin that keeps a pineapple fresh, You are Chicana, Americana, A cactus who manages to live in the desert, I see the effort, the face that speaks thousands of pains, thousands of triumphs, You are Chicana, a mixture of fighting against deportation, colonization, assimilation, Your ancestors would be proud, for you are Chicana, I hear it out loud. Chicana! You are not just a heavy accent, but a bloodline of hungry descent, You are Chicana! Fierce with your head up high, Chicana till the day that you die, Chicana a woman who is called a gringa in Mexico, but a Mexican bean in the USA, Chicana I am.
About the Author Janet Garcia is a student at NEIU getting her undergraduate degree in social work. She currently works engaging youth through spoken word and art. Janet believes in encouraging youth to use creativity as an outlet for positive self-expression and as a coping strategy. She fills her time performing at local events, fundraisers, and open mics. Janet credits her brother as her biggest inspiration because he introduced her to poetry with a message. She identifies as a brown woman that wants to be heard and uses her talents to bring awareness to different walks of people.
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U.S. Sterilization of Puerto Rican Women in Puerto Rico and Mexican Women in California: Colonized Population the U.S. and its Territories Dr. Milka Ramirez, Ph.D., L.C.S.W.
NYC Art Project, Works Projects Administration (between 1936 and 1940)
This article is written in hopes of initiating a discussion about forced sterilization, as a form of colonization and imperialism over the female body. Here, I discuss forced sterilization of Puerto Rican women1 in Puerto Rico and Mexican women in California. It is my hope that this discussion will serve as a starting point, a place of departure if you will, calling upon us to remain “vigilant, ” especially during troubling times of transition in this country. Furthermore, it is my hope that this discussion will bring to the forefront of our collective consciousness how these practices served to subjugate Puerto Rican women in Puerto Rico and Mexican women in California impacted by poverty. Broadly speaking,colonialism can be defined as the conquest and control of other people, where decisions affecting the lives of the colonized people are made by the colonial rulers. Specifi-
cally, according to J. Osterhammer, these rulers are convinced of their own superiority to dictate their inherent right to rule. In the U.S., as in the territory of Puerto Rico, examples of colonial practices that controlled reproductive rights through forced sterilization exemplify how the U.S. exercised its control over women’s bodies. This is not surprising as scholars contend that the female body, particularly the bodies of women of color, has often been a site of contestation. A report done by the World Health Organization on forced sterilizations in 2014, reminds us that the U.S. has a long history of using sterilization as a weapon of social control, oppression and as a form of eugenics, specifically, but not exclusively against people of color. However, after WWII due to the use of forced sterilization in Nazi Germany, the U.S. was widely criticized for their use of sterilization for population control.
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method of population control. Moreover Hartmann and others continued to point out that the people of color that were targeted during this time tended to be “poor” people of color. Conversely, reproductive rights encompass an array of human rights chosen “freely” by people. This is done in order to exercise their reproductive rights, reproductive health, sexual health and sexual rights. We now turn our attention to U.S. practices of population control through the forced sterilization of Puerto Rican women in Puerto Rico and Mexican women in California. In doing so, I contend that the use of forced sterilization underscore colonial dominance over these women’s bodies, striking at the very core of Puerto Rican and Mexican culture. Sterilization of Women in Puerto Rico In the post WWII era, the U.S. engaged in various Justice for Steralization victims project The Bee in Danville,VA May 6, 1927 policies to reduce population growth by providing Author Betsy Hartmann goes into much detail free sterilization services to women in Puerto Rico. about the subject in her book “Reproductive Rights According to Hartmann and other scholars, the and Wrongs.” Yet, forced sterilization of Puerto prevailing thought of the U.S. government was that Rican women living in Puerto Rico and Mexican in the absence of children, women would enter the women in California continued. workforce. The goal of stimulating a work force in Puerto Rico was important because the poverty rate Population Control and Reproductive Rights in Puerto Rico was extremely high, forcing mass miBriefly, population control is described as a so- gration to U.S. cities. However Laura Briggs, Author cial policy where it is believed that certain popu- of “Reproducing Empire: Race, Sex, Science, and lations should not have children or have limited U.S.. Imperialism in Puerto Rico” argues that the amount of children. Historically, the U.S. has imple- U.S. government viewed this migration as problemmented pollution atic and as a threat control targeting to U.S. resources. various groups of The documentapeople, inside and ry “La operación” outside the U.S. (The Operation) The groups tarcontends that geted by the U.S. the sterilization for population of Puerto Rican control include, women in Puerto but are not limitRico continued ed to: people with into the 1960’s genetic disorders, with approxipeople with HIV, mately one-third people labeled as of Puerto Rican “feebleminded,” women in Puerpeople born interto Rico undergosex, people with ing sterilization. mental illness, It goes on to say Native American that by the late Eugenics Protest circa 1971 originally published by Southern Conference Educational Fund 1960’s the sterilpeople, and incarcerated people. ization rate of PuerIn addition, in the early part of the 20th century, as to Rican women in Puerto Rico was higher than any part of the eugenics movement in the U.S., people of state in the U.S. color were specifically targeted for sterilization, as a Furthermore, it contends that women that un[8]
“No más bebés” ( No More Babies) documentary poster
derwent sterilization procedures reported the following: 1) women believed that they had limited reproductive choices in the absence of birth control 2) women were unaware that the sterilization process was permanent (e.g. believing that the process was reversible) 3) women were unknowingly sterilized after giving birth and 4) some women regretted their decision to submit to voluntary sterilization, but felt hopeless in the absence of other viable choices. Consequently, the forced sterilization of Puerto Rican women in Puerto Rico bring to light how the U.S. imposed its power over women’s reproductive rights. The mass forced sterilization of Puerto Rican women in Puerto Rico did more than reduce the population growth of Puerto Ricans. The mass forced sterilization of Puerto Rican women in Puerto Rico was a deliberate attempt to stop the procreation of Puerto Ricans in Puerto Rico. Whereby (at that time) halting the progression of the Puerto Rican culture. Subsequently, by colonizing Puerto Rican female bodies, the U.S. government exercised its ability to rule with superiority and supremacy. However, Puerto Rican women in Puerto Rico were not the only population that endured forced sterilization by the U.S. government, as these practices also occurred in California, against Mexican women.
Sterilization of Mexican Women in California According to an article in the American Journal of Public Health, in the early 1900’s, during the influx of the eugenics movement in the U.S., the federal government provided funding to states to perform sterilization procedures, as part of a family planning campaign. The article “Sterilized in the name of public health: Race, immigration, and reproductive control in modern California” goes on to say that when Mexican immigration increased in the state of California, the sterilization rates in California were the highest of any other state in the U.S. In addition, the author goes on to report that during the 1960’s and 1970’s a campaign aimed at population control took hold, targeting poor Spanish-speaking Mexican women. In addition, although, birth control was available, reproductive methods were targeted at middle-class women, while poor Mexican women underwent forced sterilization. Another documentary, “No más bebés” (No More Babies) shows us that women that underwent forced sterilization procedures revealed the following: 1) women signed consent forms written in English, without knowing that they were consenting to sterilization procedures 2) women were forced to sign consent forms agreeing to sterilization (minutes) before or after labor, while under duress and 3) many women signed consent forms, believing that the medical procedure was reversible. In 1975, ten women filed a class action lawsuit (Madrigal v. Quilligan), bringing attention to the practices of forced sterilization of Mexican women in California. However, the U.S. courts ruled that the doctors acted in the “best interest” of the women, concluding that there was no wrongdoing, but ordered that medical papers be translated into Spanish. Consequently, forced sterilization of Mexican women in California illustrates the length that the U.S. government exercised in order to exert its domination over immigrant populations. This is not a surprising, as exercising rule over people is an essential tenet of colonization, whereby suppressing the colonized. As such, controlling the female body has proven to be an effective tool of colonization and dominance, both historically and in contemporary times. As such, we must continue to bring these women’s stories to the forefront of our collective consciousness. In addition, we must remain vigilant; we must act and lift our
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voices, especially given the political climate in which we find ourselves in today. A prevailing political climate that continues to muffle the voices of marginalized people, especially people that have endured a long history of colonialism. As a consequence scholars agree that we must “…persist with our love and our fury because we know at our core that no one will serve us up liberation on a silver platter…” .
Author’s Notes: 1 Sex, gender and gender expression are multifaceted processes that move our conversation beyond male/ female binaries. However, here I use the term women as male/female binaries to stay in line empirical evidence denoting forced sterilization of the female body. For a comprehensive database of state’s eugenics history go to www.http://www.uvm.edu/~lkaelber/ eugenics/
U.S. Sterilization of Puerto Rican Women in Puerto Rico and Mexican Women in California: Colonized Population the U.S. and its Territories References
we win!: Twenty-first century social movements and the activists that are transforming our world. NY: The New Press. Loomba, A. (1998). Colonialism-postcolonialism. NY: Routledge. Knudsen, L.M. (2006). Reproductive rights in a global context. Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press. Montgomery, D. (2006). “Sterilized against their will in a Los Angeles hospital: Latinas tell the story in a new film.” Retrieved from https://www. washingtonpost.com/news/art-and-entertainment/ wp/2016/01/10/sterilized-against-their-will-in-alos-angeles-hosptial-latinas-tell-the-story-in-a-newfilm/&gt. Osterhammel, J. (2005). Colonialism: A theoretical overview. Markus Weiner Publishers. Stern, M.A. (2005). Sterilized in the name of public health: Race, immigration, and reproductive control in modern California, American Journal of Public Health, 95(7), 1128-1138. Tajima-Peña, R. & Espino, V. (2015). No más bebés. Documentary. World Health Organization (2014). Eliminating forced, coercive and otherwise involuntary sterilization: An interagency statement Retrieved, February 24, 2017 from http://apps.who.int/iris/ bitstream/10665/112848/1/9789241507325_eng. pdf?ua=1.
Anderson, T. (2015). No más bebés’ revives 1975 forced-sterilization lawsuit in L.A. Retrieved from http:// www.latinas.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-laff-nomas-bebes-20150612-story.html&gt. Briggs, L. (2002). Reproducing empire: Race, sex, science and U.S. imperialism in Puerto Rico. CA: University of California Press. Claveau, V. (2004). The Evangelization Center: Compulsory sterilization. Retrieved from: http:// www.evangelizationstation.com/htm_html/Moral%20 Theology/Suicide%20and%20Euthanasia/compulsory_ sterilization.htm. Hartmann, B. (1995). Reproductive rights and wrongs: The global politics of population control. MA: South End Press. Ko, L. (2016). Unwanted sterilization and eugenics programs in the United States. Retrieved from http:// w w w. pb s . org / i nd e p e d e nt l e ns / bl o g / u nw ante d sterilization-and-eugenics-programs-in-the unitedstates/. Garcia, A.M. (1982). “La operación” (The Operation). Documentary. Jobin-Leeds, G. & AgitArte. (2015). When we fight
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Assistant professor of social work at NEIU, Dr. Ramirez earned her Ph.D. in philosophy of social work with a certificate in gender and women’s studies, from the University of Illinois at Chicago’s Jane Addams College of Social Work. Her dissertation research titled “An Examination of Homophobia and Social Work Practice Among a Sample of School Social Workers” was Dr. Milka Ramirez, drawn from a national sample. Ph.D., L.C.S.W. Her research interests include homophobia, organizational change and issues of gender, race and social economic status. She was a school social worker with Chicago Public Schools, and has over 10 years of social work practice experience. She is also the co-founder and board president of En Las Tablas Performing Arts Community Center located in the West Logan Square area of Chicago, and is a spoken word performer who writes prose and monologues as an act of oppositional politics. Her work has been featured in NASW speaks and Sinister Wisdom.
The Little Steps of a Big Shadow Jacklyn Nowotnik To me, you are the most perfect person But even with your imperfections, you’re still the best version Of the someone I look like but strive to be more like Everything about you is more wiser, more quicker And try as I may, I have to consider All the experiences you had along the way, the good with the bad, I have to consider all that paths you’ve taken and memorized Not just in getting back home but even the shortcuts you’ve improvised in your cooking Your tongue doesn’t speak in two, but your mannerisms speak differently of you Your hair is dark, your eyes are brown, your skin is just a few shades darker than mine And your very being reminds me just how proud I am of our bloodline Not just historically but genetically Cause let’s be honest and cheesy, I wouldn’t exist When I think that one day I won’t be able to hear your laugh or see how your face curves into such a beautiful smile I’m overcome with sadness for awhile It’s thought I try not to think of, but I repeat and repeat... Over in my head so that I remember to appreciate you instead I do my best to not fault you for your faults or get frustrated with your tone But I laugh when I look in the mirror because I see your clone, or twin I see the same facial shadows and the same grin We’re two in the same which probably makes sense why we bicker so often We’re not so uncommon To the woman that stands just a few inches shorter than me, you cast the tallest shadow I’ve even seen
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‘You Are Who You’ve Been Waiting For’: The Story of an Afro-Taina bilingual education. “They wanted to bring teachers that could connect with the language issue that was going on,” said Ayala. Growing up in Humboldt Park, going to Jose de Diego Elementary School and Clemente High School, and in a household of educators really shaped her upbringing. Ayala believed that she grew up “half privileged.” She described it as having access to resources because her parents were middle class and were familiar with their community’s opportunities and afterschool programs. Therefore she could navigate the system better. However, due to the gang violence in relation to the murder of one of her papi’s students in the mid 1990’s, “we go from being a resource to then having to need resources,” therefore making her life not privileged. Despite this, Ayala said that her experiences growing up have made her both street and book smart. She can’t say that there is any one thing that her family influenced in her life’s work, because it all has been influenced by them. Everything from mami telling her every morning before school, “Tu ere’ una campeona” (You’re a champion) to papi often reminding her “Nosotros no te tuvimos pa’ cortarte las alas, tu tiene’ a volar” (We didn’t have you to cut your wings, you have to fly). That influence went beyond her immediate photos courtesy of Teresita “La Tere” Ayala family and seeped into her identity, starting with A cultural activist, artivist, urban healer, her great aunt, Titi Lah who explained that Ayala performer, mentee, mentor, global citizen, first- was a testimony of everything her ancestors went generation, daughter, sister, Afro-Taina are just through because her linage made it across the ocean some of the words Teresita “La Tere” Ayala would and sprouted in Puerto Rico. use to describe herself. “Yeah I’m Afro-Taina, and I’m proud and this is Her story is one that is continuously in the exciting. We’re the hot thing on the block, but I’ve making and influenced by Puerto Rican historical been the hot thing on the block because I’m in two events both in Puerto Rico and here in the United spaces and can go back and forth,” said Ayala. States. Having such a sense of orgullo (pride) as an Ayala was born to Puerto Rican native parents. Afro-Taina and as a servant leader created a genuine Her mami (mother) from San Lorenzo, a more appreciation for her travels across the globe, the indigenous area, and her papi (father) from Carolina, cultures she’s experienced, the people and mentors a high Afro-Puerto Rican area. Her parents were she’s met along the way. teachers in Puerto “I’ve been able Rico and migrated to identify with to Chicago, all these cultures, specifically to in the smallest Nosotros no te tuvimos pa’ cortarte become Chicago ways, in the biggest public school las alas, tu tiene’ a volar” (we didn’t ways,” said Ayala. teachers in She explained that have you to cut your wings, you have Humboldt Park, in through traveling the 1970’s for Oscar to fly). she found black Lopez’ push for - Ayala’s Papi magic everywhere.”
Jacklyn Nowotnik
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It’s not not about being black or white, it’s about takes place at Hostos Community College in New York and is “social justice platform for women.” being open to differences, knowledge and love. It is a one day concert that incorporates all the elements “Porque somos la gente del pueblo, del mundo,” (We are people of the world). This mentality lead her to of hip-hop and showcases mainly women of color, but identifying as a global citizen but it’s also lead to her art is open to local, international, intergenerational women in general. activism, or artivism, as Ayala likes to call it. The only condition to performances is that they aren’t In 1997 she joined Rebel Diaz, which she refers to as a revolutionary or conscious hip-hop group. She industry or demeaning toward women. In addition to worked with them until 2011. One of the projects she that, MHHK also has onsite HIV/AIDS testing with is most proud of while a part of Rebel Diaz was starting referrals for help if needed. “We are conscious to make sure that what we’re the Rebel Diaz Art Collective (RDAC) in the Hunts brining is going to feed them and it’s going to be Point neighborhood of the south Bronx. Ayala explained that at that time in 2007, Hunts medicine to help heal the community through art,” she Point was one of the poorest neighborhoods in the said. Ayala is currently working on planning MHHK’s area, which was why it was so important to get the community directly involved to remodel and open it 10th year anniversary and working with youth as an as a multi-purpose art space. Since then, the space has Emotional Intelligence teacher at a Chicago high school. been used to put on performances according to the When she has some down time she enjoys making jewelry, listening to Cultura Profetica (a Puerto Rican community’s needs. Around the same time in 2007, Ayala along with reggae band) and reading about restorative justice. Regardless of what she is doing or what project she Kathleen Adams, founded Momma’s Hip Hop Kitchen is working on, her efforts focus on sharing and love. She (MHHK). This, according to their website, was a “response to said, “But ultimately it’s love, the lack of or the need for, the commercialism of hip-hop by corporate America.” and being that light or being that love cause we can.” Ayala explained that MHHK is an annual event that [5]
Table of Contents THE LATINA SIDE
Que Ondee Sola Staff
Letter from the Editors Written by Robin Bridges and Jacklyn Nowotnik ‘You Are Who You’ve Been Waiting For’: The Story of an Afro-Taina .......................................................4 Written by Jacklyn Nowotnik The Little Steps of a Big Shadow ..............................6 Written by Jacklyn Nowotnik U.S. Sterilization of Puerto Rican Women in Puerto Rico and Mexican Women in California: Colonized Population the U.S. and its Territories ....................7 Written by Dr. Milka Ramirez Chicana ...................................................................11 Written by Janet Garcia Understanding My Identity: Race and Location ...12 Written by Idoia Solano and Covadonga Solares ‘In the Country We Love: My Family Divided’ ......13 Written by Evelyn Sanchez About the Cover Artist..............................................14
Editors- In-Chief Robin Bridges Jacklyn Nowotnik Managing Editor Daniel Montesdeoca Writers in this issue Bianca Corral Janet Garcia C.G. Hernandez Trudy Leong Rut Ortiz Andrew Neftalí Pérez Dr. Milka Ramirez Evelyn Sanchez Idoia Solano Covadonga Solares Graphic Designer/ Production Staff Brisa Becerril Contributing Artists Alfredo Miranda
Misión / Mission Statement Established in 1972, Que Ondee Sola remains the oldest Puerto Rican and Latina/o Student Magazine in the U.S. Established at Northeastern Illinois University the magazine is student run with participation from faculty, staff, alumni and community members. Our mission is to provide the NEIU community with a relevant and engaging publication that deals with student issues with a focus on Puerto Ricans and Latinas/os, our communities and our patrias. Que Ondee Sola continues to affirm the right of Puerto Rican self-determination, freedom for all Puerto Rican political prisoners, and support for a truly participatory democracy. Que Ondee Sola is published at Northeastern Illinois University. The opinions expressed in Que Ondee Sola do not necessarily reflect those of the Administration. Responsibility for its contents lies solely with the staff. We appreciate and encourage suggestions and contributions. Que Ondee Sola 5500 N. St. Louis Chicago, IL 60625 Room E-041 | queondeesolamag@gmail.com
Letter from the Editors ¥Bienvenidos a todos! Welcome everyone! This edition of Que Ondee Sola is a double issue that is very near and dear to us. It is dedicated to our Afro-Latino community and to Latinas. QOS has historically honored African-American history month through its Afro-Latino issue and Women’s HERstory month through the Latina issue, and this is a tradition we are proud to continue. This edition features two covers, one on the front and one on the back, each commemorating the themes in our double issue. We are extremely proud to display these covers as they are original artwork from QOS staff members, another tradition that QOS has featured in its past. The beauty of this issue represents our commitment to promoting Latinx talent, interests and community leaders. We hope that you enjoy reading our issue as much as we have enjoyed putting it together, but we also hope this inspires you to come share your talents with us as a staff. We are always eager to grow in ideas, staff and dedication. As we begin to plan for our next issue, we would like to thank the contributing writers that helped make QOS amazing and look forward to featuring more of your writing. We would also like to extend a heartfelt thanks to the NEIU media board and our advisors for supporting us as we continue on with our issues and event planning. Gracias a todos, thank you all Your Editors-in-Chief, Robin Bridges and Jacklyn Nowotnik
Que Ondee Sola Double Issue
Issue 45, Volume 3
Latina April 2017