¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State? Fall 2022, Vol. 32, No. 1

Making Space for Latinx Scholarship and Community

Quiénes Somos

Rolando Rubalcava, Editor

Irma Zamora, Features Editor

Heloisa Rincon, Art Director

Yolanda Zepeda, Managing Director

Contributors

Anais Fernandez Castro

Avimelek Garcia

Brandon Fernandez

Chris Kalman

Gabriella Cicerini

Heloisa Rincon

Irma Zamora

Keila Cortez

Patricia Vocal

Pamela E. de Los Monteros

Rey Velazquez II

Rolando Rubalcava

Yolanda Zepeda

Zaira Girala Munoz

The Office of Diversity and Inclusion publishes ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State? each autumn and spring semester. ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State? celebrates the achievements of our Latinx community. Each thematically organized issue provides a space for Latinx voices to share, express, and highlight our experiences and ideas.

The Ohio State University is not responsible for the content and views of this publication. The publication does not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of the staff.

Contenido

Grief: A Poem by Gabriella Cicerini

Andean Masks by Anais Fernandez Castro

Crying in the Corner Store by Zaira Girala Muñoz

Threading the Needle of Change: An Interview with Student Activist Lauren Gonzalez by Irma J. Zamora Furete

Advancing with Avanzando by Keila Cortez

An Inclusive Reggaeton: Bad Bunny and Shifting Reggaetonero Masculinities by Irma J. Zamora Furete

Dia de Los Muertos by Yolanda Zepeda

See you Verão, See you Brasil by Heloisa Rincon

Brasilioteca Pirilampo: The Little Library in Hagerty Hall by Rolando Rubalcava

What is Spring BookBox? A Discussion with Patti Vocal by Rolando Rubalcava

Excerpts from the Bexley Public Library Podcast with Pamela Espinosa de los Monteros and Patricia Vocal by Rolando Rubalcava

Linden Murals Project Promotes Youth Empowerment by Yolanda Zepeda Celebrando Nuestros Heroes by Irma J. Zamora Furete

Dreaming in Spanish by Rolando Rubalcava

Conexión Ciencia by Rolando Rubalcava

QLCPA by Avimelek Garcia

Art by Heloisa Rincon

Cover

Sergio Gonzalez: Pushing the Boundaries within Higher Education Research through the Lens of Jotería by Rey Velázquez II

This Issue’s Theme: Shaping the World We Want to Live In

I write this letter after going for a walk around the Oval. It’s about thirty degrees, and the sun is about to set. I picked up this habit during the hardest parts of COVID. After an hour of studying with a face mask, I’d step outside and go for a walk, hoping to alleviate my newly formed claustrophobia. Today, it offers something else. I get to step away from my computer and listen to the sounds and feel the air of an Ohio evening, crisp, blue, tranquil. I find peace at a time when peace feels like a luxury. There is a war on the other side of the planet; people’s attitude towards COVID is casual at best, dismissive at worst; every news article is about how we are inching towards the collapse of society. I don’t go on the walk to escape it all; I go to remind myself that the world is not all doom and gloom. I know this because I’ve met the people who can prove it.

Our theme came to us after meeting the contributors whose voices make up this issue. During a time where apathy feels like it’s trending, the authors of these pieces were happy to share their work with our magazine, representing an attitude made up of enthusiasm, hope, and a passion for their work. There are words by artists and poets, articles on community activism, and well-written essays about the value of Latinx voices. One of our pieces is a pair of academic abstracts by two students in the sciences, Brandon Fernandez and Chirs Kalman, who discuss their work and how it was made possible thanks to SEED, an organization dedicated to lifting entrepreneurial students. We also have a small collection of pieces dedicated to the ground-up diversification efforts of Patricia Vocal and Pamela Espinosa de los Monteros, one children’s book at a time. And to add color to our issue, we dedicated our center spread to showcase the work of our new art director, Heloisa Rincon. Our issue is rich, vibrant, and alive, and we at QuePasa are ecstatic to share it.

This issue’s contributors list span so many departments, backgrounds, and histories, but what they share is a vision for the future. It’s a future of inclusivity, activism, love, community, enveloped by a grit that will put that vision to work. They are actively and with gusto shaping the world they want to live in. We at QuePasa proudly serve as the vehicle for their vision.

With Hope, Love, and a Penchant for Good Stories,

Esquina de los Editores

Rolando Rubalcava, Editor of QuePasa Magazine, Fall ‘22

Rolando Rubalcava

griefA poem by Gaby Cicerini

The sky is elusive to everyone but the embers that crackle into black space that we cannot reach.

Orange and red alleviate the blue, like the ocean on fire, captive to the flame. My mind sticks to the stars above the chaos.

Some clogs the fabric of fragile lawn chairs as the oozing sugar drips from my stick to the unfolded seat. Perhaps I would have been more careful if I only knew the dying fire wouldn’t blaze again.

The air housed more than the smothering smell of stogies smacking my face with every breath. Luke Combs on the Bluetooth spoke to a family that wasn’t mine, but they were all I had Today I would welcome it.

My own thoughts intrude the safety of my mind, An infiltrated home once sacred, now cold, collecting wishes to go back to the stars. Naivete in underappreciating the glowing flames, now gone into the brisk air.

Perhaps life after loss doesn’t heal, just becomes more distant like the embers fading away.

Illustration by Heloisa Rincon

Research in Latin American Indigenous Cultures

by Anais Fernandez Castro Third-year undergraduate Political Science and Spanish major, and Morril Scholar

This October I will be joining Michelle Wibbelsman, Associate Professor of Latin American Indigenous Cultures, Ethnographic Studies and Ethnomusicology in the Department of Spanish and Portuguese, Amanda Tobin Ripley, doctoral student in the Arts Administration, Education, and Policy department in attending the 26th Curriculum and Pedagogy Conference in Pennsylvania. All three of us are a part of the Kawsay Ukhunchay: Andean and Amazonian Indigenous Art and Cultural Artifacts Research Collection. During this conference, we will host a panel/roundtable to showcase methods that grow out of an Andean-inspired pukllay pampa or “playing ground” of ideas and practices as a pedagogical alternative to institutionalized Western approaches to education, knowledge, and research.

We will be sharing our experiences of decolonial pedagogies and alternative methods as informed by Andean and Amazonian Indigenous epistemologies that have been cultivated from our experiences as curators/researchers within the research collection. Our theme will center on the space (this sort of Open Classroom), time (Ethics of Pace), and relationality (Relationships-based Research) found within this alternative approach to institutionalized Western-based education, knowledge, and research.

The Pukllay Pampa space breaks away from the traditional often binary, causal, deterministic models of research and post-secondary

education to a radically liberating experience redefining education as creative, imaginative, and affective, embracing uncertainty and unpredictability as essential elements of decolonial epistemologies and breaking with deterministic pedagogies of order, answers, and guarantees. Time and relationality within the Kawsay Ukhunchay transcends the traditional parameters of a semester based on learning, discovering, and teaching. It models a long-term engagement attentive to in-depth research but also lasting relationships supported by effective lived experiences that enable us to imagine and rehearse other ways of being together. Kawsay Ukhunchay brings participants together in horizontal and peer-topeer mentoring opportunities.

In my case, I will be sharing about the individual and group experiences I have undertaken through the Kawsay Ukhunchay. For example, this could include the experience of relearning how information can be mistranslated throughout different mediums until it gets to us (the curators) since our proximity to the artifacts (and the Andeans) is lengthed through language, physical distance, etc. Going into this conference, I come wanting to share the value of indigenous knowledge systems/practices and how they can reshape the educational spaces of today.

To learn more visit: https://u.osu.edu/aaac/

Source: Anais Fernandez

Crying in the Corner Store:

Adjusting to a PWI and The Zauner approach to Nostalgia

by Zaira Girala Munoz

First-year MA/PhD student, English RCL program with a Disability Studies Concentration.

As a new grad student and Columbus resident from the East Coast, I arrived with my expectations and anxieties about Ohio itself as well as The Ohio State University. I arrived from The University of Maryland Baltimore County (UMBC), a Minority Serving Institution (MSI) with non-white students making up over half of its student body. I was also a McNair scholar, so I came from a predominantly Latine and Black program. The move to OSU—a university with twice the students and acreage of UMBC and almost half the diversity—has been jarring. At UMBC, there was always the subtle comfort of walking between classes or around campus and constantly seeing students of color and almost every ethnicity walking across the quad or in hallways chatting between classes, and hearing multiple languages spoken. Moving to OSU, I became aware that I had taken that quiet unspoken comfort of being at an MSI for granted. Though I wield a tremendous amount of privilege being white and Hispanic, I still felt uneasy as I walked across campus. Though my department has a higher percentage of Latine students overall, I still feel anxiety beyond my department in a mostly white environment in which I am still the cultural other. However, this discomfort has motivated me to seek out

Image by Freepik

Homemade treats from Diamond's Ice Cream in Dublin. Images by Zaira Munoz

community within Columbus as a whole and fold in elements of heritage, culture and nostalgia that remind me of things from home to empower me throughout my week.

Much like Michelle Zauner of Japanese Breakfast and Crying in HMart fame, my family and I have often lived in mostly white neighborhoods and would drive out to in my caseLatino bakeries or stores. Since moving to Columbus, I have found there are pockets of community and nostalgia if you know where to look. Though Jeni’s and Graeter’s are amazing, my favorite is Diamond’s Ice Cream in Dublin, where I sit next to the giant Frida Kahlo as we both nurse mangonadas heaping with mango and chili, avoiding a reading or rewarding myself for finishing assignments. Little kids dart between the tables and chairs next to mine, screaming and laughing in Spanish, their parents trying to get them to pick their flavors and negotiating their terms of reward for good behavior. As much as my commitment to Meijer and Aldi is solidified with new grocery routines, as are the trips I make out to La Michoacana stores to fortify my pantry with sweets or ingredients I have had my whole life.

In some ways, the little pilgrimages I make to these places are a return as much as a destabilizing force. I contend with my academic identities and my cultural and ethnic ones regularly. I contend with the impossibility of Latine or Hispanic as ‘other-imposed’ labels too finite

to describe the massive swaths of nationality, culture and ethnicity they claim to represent. I also go eat a lot of ice cream and chili-covered fruit because I am supposed to be writing but I simply Cannot Right Now.

There is something about the ways Latine grocery stores are stocked that feels curated. It creates and destroys nostalgia all at once. It reminds you that 'Latine' and 'Hispanic' were terms made to categorize an 'other'. It exists as a construct and a consequence. It's education halfway to chaos. What’s foreign to you is home to the person squeezing by you in the cramped narrow aisle. I am completely at peace and disoriented all at once. There are moments, however, when I glimpse a familiar package or see the labeled edge of a canister over the edge of a top shelf and make a small scene asking a friend to get it down for me or exclaiming as I shove it into the teetering basket digging red lines into my arm. Lugging around the giant canister of Dulce de Batata or entire bulk boxes of Bon a Bon and Duvalin or Mango Nectar in little juice Boxes with cartoon characters.

Between the cramped shelves, I mentally check off the snacks I've been dying for. All at once, despite the foreignness of Columbus, the complete overstim of OSU's massive campus, and the stacks of reading I'll go home to, I hear laughter and realize it's mine. In my party dress, pattern tights, and platform Docs- far from home, missing my mother and silently crying in the middle of La Michoacana- I skip between shelves, pulling every packet of nostalgia off the shelf like it'll disappear, smiling like a little kid, staying forever.■

Threading the Needle of Change:

by Irma J. Zamora Fuerte Doctoral Student, English

Lauren Gonzalez hails from San Antonio, Texas and has already left her mark at OSU throughout her undergraduate career. She serves as a leader to multiple student organizations and is exemplary of how we can work to shaping the world around us. Recently, the Que Pasa team caught up with Lauren to hear more about her inspirations and hope. Belows an excerpt of the interview.

Lauren Gonzalez: I founded Teal Week when I was seventeen years old after surveying my classmates on their experiences of sexual violence. With the results, I concluded that the reason behind the high sexual violence rates was because children are not taught consent education. The stories I was told and my grandma's sudden passing inspired me to create my sexual violence awareness program. Another organization I serve in is O.U.R.S., where I am the Director of Outreach. My job is to outreach to schools and afterschool programs to present to students about the Morrill Scholarship. What inspired me to pursue this position was my passion to help my community. I believe that education equity is vital, and communities of color deserve to have access to higher education.

QP: Were there mentors or specific experiences that pushed you into the work you do? If so, please share about this and how they shaped you.

LG: As a child, my grandparents and parents raised me to always serve my community in whatever way I can. At a very young age, I began volunteering at my church and would help my aunts with community service with community organizations. I spent much of my childhood in my parents old neighborhood, where I learned the importance of community. However, as I grew up, I began to understand the economic, educational, structural, and racial disparities in my community. Many discussions with my Grandma and parents is what led me to pursue a career where I could help my San Antonio community. It wasn't until I started senior year that I knew the only way I could help my community to the best of my abilities is by pursing a career in public policy.

QP: Why is the work you do important for you? Why is it important that students like you (Latinas, first-gen, etc) participate in this work?

LG: The work I do is important to me because as a child, I didn't grow up with positive representations of my ethnicity or background. I was conditioned to feel that my people had "problems" because of the choices that we make. I look back at my childhood and I didn't grow up with a Latina or Tejana having political/community influence in places where policy decisions directly impact our community. That is the reason why I do this work. Because, in 10 or 20 years from now, I want my San Antonio community and Hispanic/Latinos to have a person in office who they can relate to, see themselves in. Most importantly, a young brown girl in the barrio will think "I can do those things", something I never had, but want for the future generation of Latinos.

QP: In 5 years, what do you hope the impact of your work will be?

LG: I hope that in five years, the impact of my work will be seen in future Latino students both in San Antonio and Columbus. My work with farmworker equity, education policy for children of farmworkers, and educating youth on sexual violence awareness is an example of the power the Latino community possesses. For too long, the Hispanic/Latino population has been overlooked, underappreciated, underrepresented, and treated as "aliens" in their motherlandwhich has resulted in Latinos having little to no space in decision making places. I hope that in five years, I can thread the needle to change not just the way the Hispanic/Latino community is seen but, more specifically bring out the power and skills we have to help bring change to our communities in whatever way they can. ■

Que Pasa: What inspired you to pursue the different positions you hold?

Advancing with Avanzando

Keila Cortes and Her Speech on Leadership and Growth

The Avanzando Through College Program awards students in the Latinx community grants and training programs designed to help them foster community building in an effort to learn outreach and leadership skills. Keila Cortes is one of those recipients. As stated in the featured page of the Avanzando Through College home page, Keila “finds great importance in doing her best work to advocate for others and myself”. We at QuePasa are huge supporters of this program, and wish to feature the advancements their award recipients are making. Below is the speech Keila Cortes gave during the award ceremony. You can learn more Avanzando Through College at the QR code below.

by Keila Cortes Undergraduate, Biology/PreMed

Hello my name is Keila Cortes. I am a first year student studying Biology/Pre Med.

I joined the Avanzando Through College Program in order to build my leadership skills and connect with Latine people. My first year was not what I thought it would be. It took a lot of discipline and dedication for me to find a balance in my social and educational life. I feel like this program helped me with both of these aspects as I was able to meet new people while also enhancing my leadership skills.

My first year of college has taught me that I still have a lot of time to grow and that my growth will honestly never end. I was surprised to see so many people of the same year in different phases of their lives. At first it was a little discouraging seeing so many people that I felt were ahead of me. They were able to balance their lives so well. They managed their time to be able to go out and do things they enjoyed

while also taking time for physical health and focusing on their education. I was surprised about how much of a turn from high school to college had on my social life. Going from seeing people every day to only in one class maybe a few times a week made making connections and friends a very contrasting experience than high school and much more demanding.

Being a part of the Avanzando Through College program helped me further develop many of my skills. It helped me learn to be a leader and it helped me realize that being one is not being the first one to speak or having the “loudest” voice. It is so much more than just that.

In order to be a leader, I have to be able to come up with solutions to problems and mitigate any issues that arise. This program helped me because it was challenging coming into college because in my life, I always had a responsibility

within my family, but I feel like I did not have to be so independent. I needed to learn to do things on my own here and the workshops that we did helped me gain that independence.

The program also helped me make great connections with these amazing people who have similar experiences to me and some that have very different experiences than me. We were able to share about our past and build off of our shared experiences. Next year I want to challenge myself to use the skills I learned from this program and implement this into something else. I also want to challenge myself to maintain this balance of social and educational life. I will use the new foundation that I have as a college student to not be discouraged and to continue improving myself and supporting others.

If I could go back in time and give myself advice I would say to build upon the little interactions I had with people. Strengthening these bonds will help to make a more enjoyable college experience. We are all here to get a good education, but along with that we are all working towards

our aspirations. Thinking about the future can be a daunting thing, but with others it can seem less taxing. The new people I have met in college inspire me. In my first year at OSU, I have gained new skills that gave me a new perspective on life. I need to focus more on reaching my own goals without comparing myself to other people's progress. This program has been an excellent experience and thank you to all the people who continue to support me. I appreciate everything that you have done for all of us. Thank you. ■

You can check more about "Avanzando Through College" by pointing your cellphone camera to this QR code.

by

AN INCLUSIVE REGGAETON

Bad Bunny and Shifting Reggaetonero Masculinities

Perhaps the quintessential sonic initiation to reggaeton for most people has been Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina”. It is nearly impossible to talk about the genre without mentioning Daddy Yankee or his 2004 hit. In fact, Rolling Stone recently granted it the number one spot on its “100 Greatest Reggaetón Songs of All Time”.

Undoubtedly, its catchy “dame mas gasolina” chorus has been one heard throughout the world, but the song and the video represent some of the more problematic and exclusionary aspects of reggaeton: the objectification, exclusion, and subjugation of women; and violent and hyper-macho images and lyrics. Would these be permanent pillars of the genre?

Enter: Bad Bunny.

Though his initial songs, such as “Diles”, follow similar themes emblematic of reggaeton, Bad Bunny has quite radically shifted the themes and representations acceptable within the genre. As his fame skyrockets, so does his expansion of what a male reggaetonero can do in his music and performances.

For me, the moment I knew that Bad Bunny was here to stay and that he could change machista attitudes in reggaeton came with the release of his video for “Caro” in 2019. Not only did he

partner with Latino pop star Ricky Martin—who famously came out in 2010, one of very few Latino singers to be out—but he showcases himself painting his nails, represented by a nonbinary model (Jazzy), and as someone que “solamente [es] feliz”. He quickly followed that with “Solo de mi” in which he touches on the violence transgender (specifically trans women) face and, again, emphasizes that people are allowed to be who they are.

The trend towards this shifting definition of reggaetonero has continued through his repertoire. In 2020, he released the iconic video for “Yo Perreo Sola”. I LOVED IT! As a Latinx studies scholar and a Bad Bunny stan, there was much to love: it’s centering of female pleasure, his unabashed drag performance, and his ally-ship with the “Ni Una Menos” movement in Latin America. It was not only a bop, but it held powerful messages for his audiences, even ending with a screen centering consent:

In a genre where consent was traditionally disregarded nor explicitly touched on (except by female singers, like Ivy Queen), this very explicit nod towards respect for women and consent is

“Si no quiere bailar contigo, respeta, ella perrea sola”

Irma J. Zamora Fuerte Doctoral Student, English

impactful to see and cemented me as a fan. Most recently, Bad Bunny kissed a female and then a male backup dancer while performing for the VMA’s. This was groundbreaking! How often do male performers do this in such a public manner? Not very often, even outside of Latin America.

Bad Bunny seems unabashedly secure in his masculinity. Without need for validation from outsiders or even other reggaetonero. He knows who he is and is just having fun exploring the different manifestations of his own reggaetonero persona. His depictions of his masculinity and allyship open up doors for what Latino men and reggaetoneros specifically can do to be better.

As an avid fan, viewer of videos, and concertgoer, I am excited to see someone in such a prominent position advocate not only for gender and LGBTQ issues, but also engage in issues for his native Puerto Rico. When I attended his concert

on September 23rd, he paused midway through the concert to emphasize the importance of supporting and recognizing the struggling infrastructure imposed in Puerto Ricans, especially after Hurricanes Maria and Fiona.

Two days after his release of “El Apagón”, which criticizes the constant blackouts on the island and outsiders taking over public beaches, Hurricane Fiona hit the island and kept it weeks without electric power. The video itself provided elongated journalistic critiques of infrastructure limitations imposed on Puerto Ricans by outsiders. For me, this critical engagement with political and social justice issues proves that Bad Bunny is not just a reggaetonero but an icon and advocate for Latinxs today.

Is reggateon an inclusive space? Not yet, perhaps. But if performers like Bad Bunny continue to do what they do, they can shape it an make it better for future performers. ■

Sketches Source: FreePik

Dia De Los Muertos at Greenlawn Cemetery

This year’s Dia De Los Muertos celebration reminds us why the celebration is so essential to the Columbus community. Sponsored by the Ohio Arts for Humanity in partnership with Ohio State University and under the leadership of Professor Paloma Martinez-Cruz, SPPO, the event featured poetry readings, readings by OSU students, all tied together with art, rich and colorful altars, and music workshops. We at QuePasa magazine love featuring this event, and look forward to sharing images from the event with our readers.

Images Source: QuePasa OSU

See you Verão, See you Brasil.

by Heloisa Rincon MFA student, Design Research and Development

Two Brazilian summers ago, when the pandemic was still at its high, and everything was blue inside, I decided to paint a collection about my favorite season of the year: summer. I can't forget to mention that in Brazil, the summer starts in December and ends in March. I also have to say that in my state, the only main difference between summer and other seasons is that it rains a lot, but the heat and sunlight are almost the same. In comparison to Columbus, I could freely say that we do have summer all year.

The real reason why I love Brazilian summer is because of the memories I have. The vacations, the trips to the coast, and meetings with family during the holidays. Also, the fact that it also rains a lot makes this time of the year smell really special to me. In 2020 though, I wouldn't be able to see or be part of the best scenes of the summer. Thus, as a cathartic strategy, I brought them to my quarantine world by painting my favorite scenarios and memories of the past summers.

When I arrived in Columbus two months ago, it was still summer, and to be honest, it was really easy for me to feel at home. I would say the weather was the main reason for it, but getting to know extremely polite and friendly people was crucial for increasing this feeling. I’m a tropical girl, and I have never seen snow in my life. This was one of the main things that scared me before moving to the USA. However, I am not afraid anymore. I believe that even in the most difficult and coldest days, the friends I’ve made and the warm personality of people from here, especially those from my department and Que Pasa team, will make it as easy and colorful as my painting from the Brazilian summer. I decided to say “See you Verão, and See you Brasil” to embrace colder and new exciting days. ■

Brasilioteca Pirilampo

The Little Library in Hagerty Hall

by Rolando Rubalcava

There is a little library in front of Hagerty Hall, with a logo of a firefly with glasses who loves to read. Though little, the goals this library has are certainly not. Brazilian representation on campuses can be difficult to address when they are constantly grouped with Latinx students, which can be problematic when considering the historical and linguistic differences. This little library, called Brasilioteca Pirilampo, helps bring Brazilian history and literature to the campus while encouraging literacy efforts for the Columbus community. Its book selection includes childhood favorites, such as Kyo Maclear’s Barco de Historias, a story of two refugee children and how their worldview is impacted by their experiences, and Lane Baptista’s Os Dois Idiomas De Sophia, about a young girl exploring the beauty of being bilingual and how the world opens up to her through that access. The team behind this project highlights their goals well in the description on their website featured here:

Brasilioteca Pirilampo works to support literacy, build community, and spark creativity for all members of the Brazilian Portuguese-speaking community who call Central Ohio their home. This volunteer-run library supports bilingual families through literacy initiatives that promote education, culture, and play. Funded by OSU's College of Arts & Sciences and community supporters, the Brasilioteca seeks to: acknowledge the Brazilian community in Columbus; incentivize Brazilian Portuguese as a heritage language; promote literacy by providing access to books that can be expensive and difficult to obtain; and create a point of connection for the Brazilian community in Central Ohio.

To see Brasilioteca Pirilampo's Instagram, point your cellphone camera to this QR code

What is Spring BookBox?

A Discussion with Patti Vocal

At the Center for Latin American Studies (CLAS), a new project has begun that is both necessary and immersive in its efforts. The Spring BookBox series is a project heralded by Patti Vocal, Outreach Coordinator for CLAS, who teaches K-12 educators on the strategies and benefits of implementing Latin American content into their curriculums. A workshop is held every semester for nine weeks to discuss the book selection and how to incorporate them into the classroom. When we at QuePasa Magazine heard about this project, we wanted to learn about its goals and impact on educators. The project is the result of the tireless efforts of Education Professors at CLAS to reach beyond OSU. I had the chance to sit down with Patti Vocal and discuss the project in depth.

Que Pasa: How do you see BookBox going beyond the greater Columbus area?

Patti Vocal: Our overall goal is to increase Latinx content within the K-12 classroom as a whole. This is open to any age level, any subject area in any state…We have a high level of Latinx/Latin American students at Columbus, and one of the things we want to make sure we are doing is, for those students to provide them with those mirrors, but at the same time, for the students who might not identify with this population, and had never had any interactions with this population, to give them an authentic experience and the diversity of this population. We’re not monolithic and

incredibly diverse, and often, the images that students are seeing are very monolithic and very stereotypical. One of our goals is also for the teachers that are working with students that are not from the Latinx/Latin American identifying population is to not only help them grow in empathy, but to move beyond this idea of acceptance to actual inclusion, and that’s a really rough space to be in because you don’t want to cross too many lines and you don’t want to seem forceful, but you also want to provide enough information for students to have that empathy, to grow in that empathy, and then to

"WE ARE NOT MONOLITHIC AND INCREDIBLY DIVERSE"

see, Okay…acceptance is cool, but what is there beyond that? That’s when you start moving towards that idea of inclusion and how to incorporate them into the classroom.

QP: Do you feel that BookBox is addressing a specific need?...Like, is the goal to see teachers embrace this in their practice?

PV: Yeah! The goal is to provide teachers, whether they are Latinx and/or Latin American identifying teachers, or those who are not, to help them feel supported, to give them the cultural context, to give them different types of supplemental resources that they are going to be able to use, to supplement what it is they are seeing in the books they are reading. As an example, one of the themes in our BookBoxes is Afrolatinidad, and that for a lot of our teachers that come from Latin America, there’s pushback. Anti-blackness is real, and sometimes, it’s guised under other things, and also the concept of race in Latin America is not always seen the same as it is here. We do a couple of things in that BookBox--we have a professor from Rutgers who identifies as Afrolatina, who has done research in this field with this type of literature. We have her come and speak. One, to show she and her experiences are real, to show that research is being done in this field, but also to humanize her experience. I think often teachers will hear about it, but they don’t have a face, and it doesn’t seem personal, so for them to have that face is really important.

QP: I’m really glad we are talking about this because, for the longest time, when I heard about BookBox, in my brain, it felt like it was an active effort in the hands of students, but it sounds more like it’s a resource for educators, to have them think about what books to

assign. In the way I interpreted it, not only was it way to get books in the hands of students in the immediate sense, but, and again, this is me visualizing it, like…I thought of it as an actual box. You know? Like…

PV: (laughs, then states…) Well, kind of…what happens is teachers register for a theme they select over Zoom, and everything is Zoom, and it’s really great because it has allowed us to interact with teachers from all over. We’ve had teachers from New York, from Vegas, from a bunch of different states, so it makes it a really great space for teachers to hear outside ideas. Not only content area, but the different student and general demographics that exist.

We at Que Pasa love the idea of BookBox, as it puts books in the hands of both educators and students a kind of library that is often dismissed and in need of more representation. As Patti Vocal states, “it gives a voice to those experiences and populations”. We look forward to the future of BookBox. ■

by Rolando Rubacalva PHD Candidate, English

Pamela and Patti on a Podcast

Excerpts from the Bexley Public Library Podcast with Pamela Espinosa de los Monteros and Patricia Vocal

Earlier this semester, the Bexley Public Library (BPL) podcast sat down with Pamela Espinosa de los Monteros, Assistant Professor and the Latin American, Iberian, and Latino/a Studies department librarian, and Patricia (Patti) Vocal, Outreach Coordinator for Center for Latin American Studies (CLAS). They covered subjects such as the BookBox Project (see A Discussion with Patti Vocal), how to celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month, and supporting Latinx businesses in Columbus.

Hearing Pamela and Patti discuss the topics at focus emphasize their passion for the work they are doing when it comes to diversification

efforts and getting libraries to herald their efforts. When asked about what kind of criteria libraries can use to consider including the books Pamela and Patti wish to see on the shelves, Patti responds, saying, “I think in the most ideal situation, we would want books from the community themselves, and if we’re thinking of books that are about Latin America, we want books from there..”. Pamela later adds “The publishing market hasn’t caught up to really represent the storytellers that exist…We don’t often start to talk about our experiences until we get to college…The curriculum is just not there yet, and so these books are really helpful to bring in, and for you to say, ‘My story…is this

story!’…What often happens is that we have other people writing about us…and I think that it’s really important to pay attention, who is the author? Where are they being published?”

A conversation about getting books into the classroom soon becomes one about the publishing industry and what is needed to make those who make the decisions consider what books they are buying, a conversation that is long overdue.

They also discuss the barriers to having bilingual books, including not having any translators on staff, or looking at the inclusion of a second language and asking who it’s for. Patti Vocal does a brilliant job discussing this in response to addressing those boundaries. She states, “We have lot of different aspects that we are looking at. First is that we are looking at the author and the artist. Who are these people, and where are they from? That cultural authenticity is really important. When looking at the images themselves in the images themselves, we are looking at diverse representations of the Latinx experience, how are they being shown in comparison to the other characters. What are the power dynamics that we’re seeing, what are they wearing, what are we seeing?...and just as a whole, we want to make sure that we have books that have quality plot and storyline. We are not in the business of just including books to be inclusive, we want it to be quality literature because that does exist”. The work Patti and Pamela advocate for go beyond meeting quotas, but getting stories that can affect how readers see the world and help them identify the stories they resonate with.

The podcast hosts at BPL are enthusiastic about hearing from Patti and Pamela, especially while celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month. When asked by the host what people can do to celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month in Columbus,

Patti says, “Make sure that we are including the voices of our students if they do exist within the classroom, to also share their experiences, but not to use them as ‘Okay you are Latinx: tell me what that means’…and steer clear of commercializing the holiday, which is often that something happens”. Patti adds, “Intentionality is key. It’s an opportunity to get to know a community that is present, and has been here for a looooong time…It’s like, Where is that place in my community?... and we should critically look at that”. What makes the responses so effective is how attuned Pamela and Patti are when it comes to understanding the presence and plight of the Latinx community in both the classroom and a city like Columbus. The conversation is one as interested in history as it is in activism.

At one point, Kelley Edwards, Youth Services Librarian at Bexley and the cohost of BPL states, “It’s very important just because it’s overwhelming doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it”. This response represents the efforts of Pamela and Patti, working tirelessly to support and advocate for more authentic Latinx representation, going beyond meeting quotas, into identifying the books Latinx readers in the classroom would benefit from the most. Their work is not just necessary to the Latinx community, but to the classroom as whole, embracing a kind of inclusivity and activism rooted in justice and undoing the effects of the historical dismissal of such stories. We at Que Pasa are huge fans, and hope more readers check out their podcast episode. ■

by Rolando Rubacalva PHD Candidate, English

Linden Murals Project Promotes Youth Empowerment

By Yolanda Zepeda

“They were on fire. They were schooling us on what they need,” OSU Professor Guisela Latorre describes the Linden neighborhood youth participating in an arts conversation. Latorre is the Principal Investigator of Linden Murals of Empowerment (LME), a community arts project supported by the OSU. The LME mission is “to promote civic participation, community health and youth empowerment through community driven muralism in the neighborhood of Linden.”

Building on the power of community muralism, LME seeks to promote public dialogue about structural racism in Linden and to inspire young people toward creativity and empowerment. Latorre emphasized that the project rejects a topdown approach to social change, “Young people are hungry for art that empowers them and is not hierarchical.” Instead, this project centers young people as an important part of a powerful community who can uplift and inspire. LME emphasizes this through a series of conversations and workshops where project facilitators provide the conditions for community members to project their voices with the goal of empowerment.

Starting with a slam poetry reading by Poet Ani Mwalimu, a Columbus educator, artist and entrepreneur, the first LME conversation event included a discussion with Latorre about muralism’s potential for community empowerment. It was followed by testimonials from community members who shared their own hopes and dreams. North Linden Area Commissioner Karen Clark also led an implicit bias discussion, centering how biases influence perceptions of the Linden neighborhood by the larger Columbus community.

A series of workshops introduced participants to Columbus’s mural history and their own collective power. Using whiteboard pedagogy—a collaborative learning approach in which participants can write and interact in real time—the Linden youth shared what their neighborhood means to them. Some shared their feelings of being abandoned as they acknowledged the challenges of poverty, violence and homelessness. Importantly, they also expressed pride in Linden’s resiliency, using words such as strength, diversity and home.

Linden artist Joel Cross guided participants through a workshop in which they collaboratively created a final mural design for the LME Project. LME’s first community mural took the form of a mural prism, a freestanding structure with three panels. Each panel contained the letters L, M and E respectively with additional images of youth empowerment. This prism will be installed in different locations throughout Linden.

In addition to Latorre, the LME team comprises of Francesca Miller (lead artist), Shelbi Toone (contributing artist), Joel Cross (contributing artist), Njeri Kagotho (researcher), Becca Beech (community outreach coordinator), Andrea Russell (North Linden Area Commissioner), John Lathram (photographer), Matty Steinmiller (youth photographer), and Ella Cope (social media specialist).■

Dreaming in Spanish

by Rolando Rubacalva PHD Candidate, English

I’m in my fifth year of my doctoral program, and I’ve never felt more homesick. Due to a heavy workload this summer, the timeslot I usually use to fly back home, it was not possible to head back. The sounds and smells of LA were present only in my memories. No late night taco stands, no midnight subway rides, no In-N-Out burgers. What I missed most was seeing family and loved ones. I would tide myself over with hour long phone calls, a habit COVID helped me learn to appreciate. But there were days where the only thing that helped assuage my homesickness was looking up flight schedules to LA, longing to press “add to cart”. My friends did a good job making me feel better with happy hour get-togethers and visiting Ohio’s version of a beach, and work was a kind of a healthy distraction. I felt like that was sufficient enough to make it through the summer. Then, something strange started to happen….

¿Estás listo para trabajar?

¡Hámonos!

Y asegúrate de tomar alguanas aguas. Estamos esperando el camión de cemento.

I started dreaming in Spanish. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this. I would have these dreams where I was reliving old memories as if I was doing them now. In this dream, I was working as a day laborer in my dad’s construction company. Those days were so hard, working in the blistering sun, doing back-breaking work, only to go home and do the exact same thing the next day. Why would I miss a time that drew

so much anxiety and physical stress? I think about the work, then about the ride home, my dad telling me stories about the gigs he did before construction, and how much work it took to save up for the down payment on the house he now owns. Maybe these dreams are trying to tell me something….

¿Cuánto tiempo los dejo?

Espera unos diez minutos, levanta la olla para sacar la menteca. ¡Y no te quemes!

I always felt like the outcast of my family, with my Spanish always lacking, and preferring a burger to my mom’s cooking. In my last dream, I’m taking care of the meat we’re cooking in the backyard of the house I grew up in. You lift the pot, then make sure to scoop up the meat, all while making sure you don’t burn your hands. On those days, nobody cared how bad or how inadequate my Spanish was. My dreams are making me really dig deep into what I’m missing. My Spanish is no longer a source of shame, but a resource to tie e back to family. I think I know what to do now--I’m gonna start speaking more Spanish, it will be broken and tainted with my American assimilation, but it will be the best way to help my homesickness. Ojalá. ■

Celebrando Nuestros Heroes

Profile of ODI Hall of Fame Awardees: Monica Ramires (2022) and Cid Wilson (2021)

by Irma J. Zamora Fuerte Doctoral Student, English

As part of this issue’s theme to recognize those who are “Shaping the World We Want to Live in”, we want to share profiles of those Latinx Buckeyes shaping the world and getting recognized by the larger Ohio State community. For this issue, we highlight two honorees of the ODI Hall of Fame Award: Monica Ramirez, JD and Cid Wilson.

Monica Ramirez on the left and Cid Wilson on the right

In 2021, Ohio State’s Office of Diversity and Inclusion held its inaugural ceremony for their Hall of Fame awards. According to the ODI website, these awards are given to those who “have contributed through exemplary and sustained leadership to the ideals of diversity, equity, inclusion, and community engagement”.

As part of the inaugural Hall of Fame Awardees, Cid Wilson ’94 was recognized for his advocacy of the Latinx community. According to the video shared throughout the website and his own LinkedIn, Wilson hails from Washington Heights and is of Dominican Heritage. While at OSU, he served as the first Afro-Latinx president of the Latinx Student Association and led a coalition that lobbied the cable company to provide Univision and Telemundo in central Ohio.

After graduating with a BA in Economics from OSU, Wilson went on to work as an unpaid mailroom intern and eventually worked himself up to a position as a prominent Wall Street financial analyst. Today, Wilson is the CEO of the Hispanic Association for Corporate Responsibility (HACR), pushing for representation in the financial fields. In October 2022, he and his HACR colleagues were invited to ring the NASDAQ Closing Bell. In the same month, President Biden appointed Wilson to serve on the President’s Advisory Commission on Advancing Educational Equity, Excellence, and Economic Opportunity for Hispanics.

For the 2022 ODI Hall of Fame Awards, the Latinx community was yet again represented by Monica Ramirez, JD. She originates from Fremont, Ohio and is the daughter of migrant workers. She attended the OSU Moritz College of Law and received her JD in 2003.

”Ramirez was recognized primarily for her work in founding the Justice for Migrant Women, “the world's first legal project focused on sexual harassment and other forms of gender discrimination against farmworker women.” She was also recognized for her involvement in the Time’s Up movement.

According to the Justice for Migrant Women website and Ramirez’s acceptance video, her experiences as a granddaughter and daughter of migrant workers heavily influenced her decisions to attend law school and advocate for her community. Though she values and celebrates the fact that her family and migrant workers “have fed the world”, she also understands the deep struggles that they go through. Because of this recognition, she continues to do her work in advocacy.

Her dedication not only to her family, but to the broader Latinx community, apparent throughout her work and beyond. She is aware of the impact her words and actions have on future advocates and this is showcased most prominently in her acceptance video when she points out that “this award is about all the people who are looking up and are dreaming so that they can see that they can do anything that they want to be no matter where they come from, no matter who their family is.” ■

They can do anything that they want to be no matter where they come from, no matter who their family is.

Conexión Ciencias

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Images Source: Chris Kalman

QLCPA Queer Latine Community

Pride Association

by Avimelek Garcia

The QLCPA is a young, but growing, organization that was established by a group of graduating queer Latine students at OSU. Among our shared stories, there was a salient need for a space that intersects latinidad & queerness at our campus. A space where folks, like us, can fully dive into such social axes to not only theorize as academics, but to connect and further community as Latines. Such spaces are transformative, healing, and crucial as there has been historical and cultural disservice to our queer familia. We talk about mi gente, “my people,” as if we unconditionally love one another, yet easily have conditional love for our queer gente. In order to mature beyond bigoted rhetoric and policy, conversations must be supported in which those of us in the queer familia speak for ourselves, and for you to listen, truly listen, to us.

The truth of bigotry within Latinidad is ugly: there are hateful biases, self-harm, and communal harm due to things like machismo and other problematic cultural tendencies. Queer Latinidad is a complex and colorful experience, well-deserving of a space that would allow us to feel fully present within the dominant Latino culture, including the machismo. We each have our own unique story to tell, and while storytelling is not inherently exclusive to the queer community, storytelling within Latin America is very much tied to our sense of reality: storytelling is how we keep our past loved ones alive, how we pass down recipes, how we keep our past in our present and future.

One of our favorite campus-wide efforts for creating the space we fought for is hosting guest speakers. “Queer, Latine/x and in College: Exploring Joteria at the Intersections of Queerness and Latinidad” was the topic presented by Sergio A. Gonzalez as one of the featured events for Latine Heritage Month at OSU. A discussion that explored what “…Joteria is and how it emerges at the intersections of queerness and Latinidad within the Latine community…”—a discussion that was dedicated by and for queer folks of color. It all started with a moment like that of the students and Sergio, intimate and casual— either with food or cafecito. As those students shared their stories, the idea of the now-thriving organization came to conversation.

The main content of “Queer, Latine/x and in College” summarizes both the (academically) successful moments and the not-so-successful ones. It was a beautiful presentation to witness; seeing queer folks of all different backgrounds gather as a community to theorize was more than one can put into words—truly queer academia at its finest. What impressed me the most is the intimate exchange of words during the luncheon that the student leaders of Queer Latine Community Pride Association (QLCPA) had with Sergio, and what these moments mean for queer Latine folks within academic circles as we are developing space for “radical” change and representation. ■

Sergio Gonzalez: Pushing the Boundaries with Higher Education Research through the

Lens of Jotería

by Rey Velázquez II Undergraduate, Human Development & Family Science

Sergio Gonzalez is a Research Associate at the Rutgers Center for Minority Serving Institutions and the Samuel DeWitt Proctor Institute for Leadership and a Ph.D. student in the School of Educational Studies Program at Claremont University. He visited OSU on Wednesday, September 21st and presented on the pilot study to his dissertation work: “Jotería Identity and Consciousness: Pláticas of Co-creation with Undergraduate Queer Latinx Students.”

Throughout his research, work, and within the identity of Jotería, Gonzalez actively works against the Eurocentric ideas and norms that are heavily engrained into our society in order to promote agency and autonomy for queer Latine individuals, and to push the boundaries of “traditional” research methods.

As Gonzalez does in his lecture, I want to go over what Jotería means and from where the term derives. The term Jotería is very similar to the term queer; both words are umbrella terms that are used to refer to individuals and the culture within the LGTBQIA+ community. Jotería, on the other hand, is used to refer to Latine individuals within the LGBTQIA+ community, and the culture that falls at intersection of queerness and Latinidad. The term, Jotería, is derived from the colloquial Spanish-term joto, which is used similarly in context to the “f”--slur that is

used in North American English to refer to gay men. Although the term is a derogatory term, Gonzalez and many others identify with this term to reclaim the power of their identity as queer Latine individuals.

In the pilot study to his Ph.D. dissertation, Gonzalez adopted methods which pushed the boundaries of traditional research methods to provide agency and honor to the five individuals who were a part of his study, and to humanize their experiences. Instead of using a traditional, structured interview style when speaking to the five individuals, Sergio instead chose to have pláticas with each of them. A “plática” is a casual talk that is usually amongst friends and people who you are familiar with. Gonzalez decided to steer away from using interviews, and to take a non-structural approach to allow for raw and authentic conversations that showcased their true experiences. Sergio wanted to humanize their

experiences as queer Latine individuals at predominately white institutions, and to honor them and what they have gone through to achieve a sense of belonging at their institutions.

Gonzalez also chose to refer to these five individuals as his co-creators throughout this study, instead of traditional terms used in research, such as participants or subjects. Many may see it as being a very trivial change, but I perceived it as very significant. A term like participant or subject insinuates that said person is a piece of the research or study, rather than someone who contributed the work. The term co-creator provides these individuals with a sense of agency over the experiencesthey shared within these pláticas with Sergio, which was his intention. Sergio chose to call these individuals his co-creators to provide them with autonomy of their words and their experiences and he ensured this through multiple follow-ups with each person. After their plática, he would send them a transcript of their conversation for them to review, later to receive confirmation of their consent and to allow them to remove any experiences they may not feel comfortable sharing. He would also send them his drafts to ensure that he interpreted their experiences correctly. Sergio saw this as a way to “include them in the process,” providing them

with full autonomy over how their pláticas were interpreted within his work and to guarantee an authentic depiction of their experiences.

Sergio’s work and his lecture changed the way I view research and how we choose to create. It provided me with a new perspective of the ways in which we can steer away from utilizing structured methods that are rooted from Eurocentric ideals and ideas and hyper-individualism, and to instead adopt methods that better promote authenticity and basis for community. I also began to think: what are ways that we can apply these methods outside of research and within the workplace, organizations, academia, etc.? How can we dismantle hierarchical structures and even the playing ground, where we can promote collaboration and co-creation within our communities? I hope that as I step into more leadership roles, and when I move into the workplace, I can ask these questions and hopefully change the way we create within these spaces. ■

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