¿Que Pasa, Ohio State? Spring 2017, Vol. 25, No. 2

Volume 25 • Number 2 • Spring 2017

quepasa.osu.edu

Making Space for Latinx Scholarship and Community

Belongings Spring ’17

a

Esquina de los editors

What We Do Who We Are Quiénes somos Marie Lerma, Co-Editor Luis Fernando Macías, Co-Editor Velvette De Laney, Art Director Luisa V. Talamas, Art Director Assistant Yolanda Zepeda, Managing Director

The Office of Diversity and Inclusion publishes ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State? each autumn and spring semester.

¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State? is proud to celebrate the achievements of Latinx in a variety of disciplines: art, politics, science, technology, literature, and more. Although not every discipline will be featured in each issue, each thematically organized issue will highlight the diversity of fields in which Latinx excel.

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. All submissions for publications must include contact name and phone number or e-mail address. ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State? reserves the right to refuse any submission for publication.

For questions and inquiries, please contact quepasa@osu.edu.

Note: We use the term “Latinx” to

represent all Latino identities.

Photos for each piece are provided by the author or interviewee unless otherwise noted.

For academic articles featured in ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State?, you will find foot/end notes and bibliographies at quepasaohiostate.tumblr.com _________________________ On the Cover: From Illustrator J-Gonzo, used with permission.

Left: Co-Editor Marie Lerma, Photo credit: Janell Strouse; Right: Co-Editor Luis Fernando Macías, Photo credit: Jenn Johnston

Queridos lectores de Qué Pasa, We at the Qué Pasa editorial team have been working diligently and proudly to present to you this issue entitled: Belongings. We have chosen this title because of what the Latinx communities and its complex diversity must do in order to create and reaffirm our belonging at this institution, this city, this region, and in this nation.

The contributions in this issue speak to a variety of ways in which we create community and reaffirm our sense of belonging. The different issues that are spoken about and the various formats in which they are featured in this issue serve to reflect our complex heterogeneity.

As students, faculty, and staff we do have voices on this campus even though we may not always speak in unison. We must use our individual and collective voices in order to call out macro and micro-aggressions that happen in personal interactions and within policy on this campus.

The election of our latest president has made it all the more clear to some people that we must continue to reaffirm our existence, persistence, and resistance. In and outside of the Latinx community, we fight misogyny, racism, transphobia, homophobia, antisemitism, Islamophobia, ableism, antiblackness, classism and more.

As editors of ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State?, students at this university, and as people, we believe the election of Donald Trump cannot be seen objectively when his campaign and presidency propagates, supports, and encourages the messages and agenda of white nationalist supremacy.

We encourage the readers of this magazine to act in solidarity with other student groups on campus who are fighting to change our communities, our country, our world, and ourselves.

Instead of simply propagating images of cookie cutter shaped Latinx suffering, we dedicate this issue to highlighting the anger, resistance, accomplishment, and perseverance of our communities in spite of the numerous and increasing challenges we face. This is how we carve out places of creative belonging.

We call upon readers to pass this issue to someone else once you are done reading it. We call upon readers to work in their various communities and build coalitions and bridges. We call upon readers to recognize and rectify oppressive practices and structures. As Audre Lorde stated “I cannot afford the luxury of fighting one form of oppression only.

I cannot afford to believe that freedom from intolerance is the right of only one particular group.” There is no hierarchy of oppression, and so we must support and uphold each other in our acts of resistance. Complacency is when we shut down the resistance of other people in the name of respectability, or worse, cooptation in the guise of reform.

In love, light, and resistance, Luis Fernando Macías and Marie Lerma

Belonging

Teaching Quechua

22

11

4

13 3

Conversation with Jennicet GutiĂŠrrez

How do you Self-Identify?

Contenido

La Mano del Destino

Linguistic Profiling and Discrimination at OSU

The Color of My Skin (Poem)

16 20

5

William Shakespeare's The Tempest

Elegy for a Dying Race, a Public Nuisance Laura Esposto, Undergraduate, English

“A war of extermination will continue to be waged until the Indian race becomes extinct.”

—Peter Burnett, First Governor of California For my grandmother dragged by the braids

over the horizon. She grasps at the handrails of reddish clouds & cuts her palms

on the elms who find her earrings distasteful. Eventually her body spreads thin as dried bark;

a flare past the spine of hazy grey mountains.

And for her mother sprouting roots in the kitchen/

basement/burial ground of an Indian mission school.

She prays, her mouth wide as a basket & scours

dirty plates that gaze up at her as children. Sometimes the priest plays a game with her body. Also for my mother

who floats somewhere over the rancheria, tomahawk balloon in hand. It’s the men who come to shoot her down

with RIC revolvers, but she only swings herself higher.

It is for the way she is kind enough to sing down to them

when she ties the balloon to ‘round my throat.

2

quepasa.osu.edu

The Color of My

Skin

By Peter John-Baptiste, PhD Student, ElectroScience Lab

The color of my skin I have never really considered my color a flaw, Not until I heard it from others, Not until I heard that I’m black, A black sham of a white cat, Stuck in colored skin, They make it seem as if skin is a sin, Funny their obsession with K’s, My skin color is black, Don’t be blind to that fact, But also don’t tell me that I am less or more of that, The color of my skin is: Ugly, Sporty, Funny, Ghetto, Words often associated with my skin color, So much so that all I began to think was that, The black person, the stigma of a nation right?

Black magic, black plague, the dark arts, All negative connotations to what we are defined, Lazy black man, welfare hogger, affirmative action associate, That is us right?

Funny that this action that is so affirmative is the reason, Why so many companies are headed or filled with blacks right?

The victim is now rising, the privileged race suffers, Due to the need for diversity, the blacks now rise, Let it be forbid if the system that once brought them down, Now extends a peace branch, Hooray racism is NO MORE, This is why blacks are associated with welfare and poor housing, Why you can only see us in the dark if we smile, Why we are loud in movies, can’t swim and love chicken, Racism is gone, The riots for equal treatment are outdated, Blacks are no longer treated unequally in the workplace, Companies no longer only higher black folks to fulfill a quota, Police brutality and stereotyping do not exist, Racism is no more, Color does not exist, So why am I still thinking about the color of my skin, We have Obama , basketball and Madea, We have made it to the land of mediocrity, So why are we still fighting, right?

We are higher than we were before, WE are no longer treated differently based on the color of our skin,

Because all of this would mean, racism is still alive, But it can’t be, right?

Black people still get nominated for Oscar’s.

But do we?

We still get jobs due to affirmative action, But do the number of blacks compare to the number of Caucasians, We still get education, But is it the same quality, America has grown, But has it fully grown?

The color of my skin is unnoticed, To someone who is colorblind, Because in order to see me, You have to see my color, Yes, I know, I now know that my skin appears to be the issue, I am comfortable with the color of my skin, Because while I may talk educated that makes me no more or less of a black person than the others Because God created the colors, And there are different shades of black, But they are all still black, To lump us all as ghetto, Is not stereotyping if it’s true, Once you go black, you never go back, That’s why so many avoid being that, Because when you’re black, You can’t be at the top, that’s silly, Even when you’re the star, You will still only be the supporting character, But they say, why the outrage, Slavery is over, America has changed, The truth of that statement, Can be cast out with two words, White Privilege, Just goes to show, The more America changes, The more it repeats the past, The color of my skin, Has nothing to do with anything, When in fact it has, Everything to with everything, Job, treatment, school, services, labels, money, All of these already have color factored in, So how can I be happy?

With the color of my skin.

Spring ’17

3

La Mano del Destino, A TRUE MEXICAN HERO If you take a look in to the world of comic books and the ones that become popular, you may start to realize that the A-list characters like Batman, Superman, Spider-Man, and Iron Man have something in common: they are male and white. It’s the white male superheroes that grab the limelight.

In order to combat the whiteness that is the superhero world, Latino comic book creator, Jason Gonzalez (known as J-Gonzo in the comic book world), breathes life into a Latino superhero as the protagonist of the story: the eponymous luchador superhero known as La Mano del Destino. This hero not only adds diversity to the comic book universe, but he anchors readers in a rich and complex history of Mexican culture and sensibility.

4

quepasa.osu.edu

By Maria Emery, Sophomore, Mathematics

J-Gonzo’s La Mano del Destino at once celebrates Mexican cultural heritage—especially the history of lucha libre—and pushes against the US mainstreamed simplifications of Mexican culture. We need only look to Jared Hess’s film, Nacho Libre, when casting Jack Black as the mustachioed, heavily Spanglish accented, bumbling buffoon, Nacho. Jack Black’s character mocks the lucha libre sport. He mocks Mexican culture. He mocks Mexican subjectivity and experience.

With his creation of La Mano del Destino, J-Gonzo breaks the US mainstreamed simplifications of the luchador. With great responsibility to his subject matter—the history of luchadores in Mexico—he creates a complex Latino luchador superhero who Latino reader and all others can engage with. As with the tradition in Mexico, J-Gonzo decides to not reveal the face under the mask of La Mano del Destino. He is either always wearing a mask or his face masked by J-Gonzo’s careful shading or objects within the panel. In the figure below, we see a rough outline of his head, but his actual face is concealed by the splashing water—and the way J-Gonzo chooses to portray him in side-profile. J-Gonzo at once wanted to respect the luchador cultural tradition of never revealing the hero behind the mask. He knows well that once the mask is put on, then the luchador superhero has accepted his destiny in society. Yet, J-Gonzo also purposefully obscures details of the unmasked Latino luchador to invite non-Latino readers of the comic to relate to him. The less that is shown, the more the reader will fill in the gaps and invest him or herself in the character. To sum up a conversation I had with J-Gonzo at SÕL-CON: Brown & Black Comics Expo 2016, the acceptance of the mask determines how one will live

one’s life in terms of social justice. The acceptance of the mask represents the acceptance of La Mano’s destiny.

J-Gonzo’s respect for a long tradition of lucha principals takes place at the level of characterization and how La Mano is drawn. And, there’s another level to which J-Gonzo seeks to set his Latino-centered storyworld in a rich and vibrant past. At SÕL-CON, J-Gonzo discussed with me his goal to create a unique comic book look that sets itself against modern day comics. He uses approximately nine different colors in his giving shape to the comic book storyworld. He does so to give it the look of comics of the Sixties—those that had the biggest impact on him in his journey to become a creator. For instance, we often see his use of contrasting colors like green, blue, and magenta throughout his comic to take readers back to this earlier era of comics creation. And, just as importantly to use colors we might see at Día de los muertos celebrations with its contrastive color schemes.

While J-Gonzo carefully uses color to anchor readers in an earlier era of comics and also Mexican cultural tradition, in the end his unique combinations and slightly subdued color effect are his own. They make for a comic book that is at once anchored in Mexican cultural traditions and Sixties styled comics look, and that transforms these into the J-Gonzo comic book storyworld that is a combination of his own experience growing up Mexican and American—as Latino. He opens doors for others to step into this hybrid superhero space.

He provides a magnificent mirror for future generations of Latino children to see themselves as the rich, complex diversity superheroes that they are.

Manuel Jacquez Directs William Shakespeare’s

The Tempest

By Victoria Muñoz, Lecturer, OSU Mansfield This past February, the OSU English Department’s in-house theater group, the Lord Denney’s Players, mounted a performance of William Shakespeare’s celebrated comedy, The Tempest, at the Columbus Performing Arts Center.

Directed by Manuel “Manny” Jacquez, a PhD Candidate in the English department focusing on Renaissance drama, the production brings to life the humor, complexity, and richness of Shakespeare’s play, focusing on both textual fidelity and character development. I had the pleasure of serving as dramaturg for this production of The Tempest along with PhD Candidate, Dan Knapper. As I attended rehearsals and helped the actors to bring Shakespeare’s immortal words to life, I became keenly aware of just how special this production would be.

Much of the strength of this performance lie with its direction. In the bare space of the Columbus Performing Arts Center, the production largely relied on the actors’ command of their characters and on their movement through the environment to bring to mind the fecundity and wonders of Prospero’s island dominion.

I was initially surprised at how minimal the space would be, since The Tempest is known for being a staged spectacle.

When I expressed this concern to the director, Jacquez sagely reminded me that good actors needed only their bodies and voices to bring plays to life.

This response typified the exuberant

energy that Jacquez brought to his breakout role as director of a dramatic production. Last year, he served as Assistant Director for the LDP’s production of Richard II, directed by Dr. Sarah Neville, now Creative Director for the drama troupe. This year, however, Jacquez took on primary responsibility for the Lord Denney’s Players’ growing theatrical repertoire; his execution of The Tempest reflected the vision of a director confident in the message he wished to convey through deep character development and minimal distraction from props or scenery.

Jacquez endeavored to return agency to the play’s most traditionally marginalized characters: Prospero’s daughter, Miranda (Hannah Woods), and his slave, Caliban (Tony Harper). In most productions, Miranda is presented as a passive and obedient daughter to Prospero (Antony Shuttleworth). Her furtive flirtations with Ferdinand (Joseph Glandorf) are often depicted as the result of uncontrollable and shameful attraction rather than a conscious effort to act upon her own desires. Under Jacquez’s direction, however, the audience was treated to a deeply self-possessed Miranda, who resisted her father’s overbearing nature, rolled her eyes and teased him for his pedantry; Woods gave relish to Miranda’s lines openly expressing her attraction to Ferdinand, to whom she pledges herself as his “slave.”

Meanwhile, Prospero’s real slave, Caliban, repeatedly interrupted the idyllic fantasy-world of Prospero’s creation by screaming insults pertaining to the unexamined complacency of

Photo Credit: A.J. Zanyk Photography

his master. Harper captured the raw anger of Caliban, who has become something of an icon in post-colonial studies of The Tempest. His presence reminds the audience of the play’s allusive background in the burgeoning transatlantic slave trade and his uncertain status at the end of the play underscores the blatant disregard with which the character is traditionally treated. The production dealt deftly with this ambiguity; during one rehearsal, I expressed concern to Jacquez regarding Caliban’s line, "I'll be wise hereafter. And seek for grace."

As a scholar of early modern religious culture, I suggested that the actor bring out the doctrinal connotations of the word “grace,” as in the Protestant notion of reformed grace. Prospero would then act as a religious authority “blessing” his servant and forgiving him for his former transgression. Jacquez rejected the idea, noting that “no, Prospero and Caliban don’t get any sort of resolution.”

After watching the final version of the play in performance, I was glad that Jacquez deemed this direction unfit for his vision of the characters or for the larger thematic concerns of the production. As he emphasized, Caliban was not a character whose abuse by his European overlords would be allowed to disappear under the sweeping idealism of the play’s happy ending. Indeed, Caliban remains a problem in The Tempest and in Jacquez’s version, deliberately undercuts the comedy, reminding us that the larger world of greed, profit, and self-interest exist just beneath the surface of Shakespeare’s seemingly light-hearted romp through utopia.

Spring ’17

5

Long Stories Cut Short: Fictions from the Borderlands, LASER Founder and Distinguished Professor Frederick Aldama’s First Fiction Book is a Must-Read

By Miguel Valerio, PhD Candidate, Spanish Praised by a host of stellar writers like Juan Felipe Herrera, poet laureate of the US, and Ayize Jama-Everett, author of The Liminal People, and the outpouring of reviews since its publication earlier this year, Frederick Aldama’s Long Stories Cut Short: Fictions from the Borderlands (University of Arizona Press, 191 pages) is a must-read for all young and older adults. At a moment when xenophobic discourse and practices in the US emanate from the White House itself, Aldama’s fiction debut brings us the human stories of working-class Latinos men and women, young, old, and in between, while entertaining us with a host of peculiar characters, from infants who read before they talk to Xbox videogamer cholo cyberpunks and every imaginable middle ground, and their practical wit. Every reader will find their deepest hopes and dreams reflected in these characters, despite either’s idiosyncrasies.

As with every work of fiction, the book’s form is important. In “Unended Story”, the literary critic Jaime, one of Aldama’s many alter egos in the collection, makes precisely this argument: “Form,” says Jaime to an interviewer, “is paramount to the writer of fiction; it’s where the will to shape matter to create something is exercised and where the work of art comes into existence.” A respected scholar of flash fiction himself, Aldama’s dabbles in this form with great results in the collection’s “Prelude: A la Tito Monterroso.” Here’s an example, “The Hunger Pangs”: “When she woke up, the hunger pangs were still there.” This enigmatic one-liner recalls Frank Kafka’s famous opening in The Metamorphosis, so excellently imitated, among others, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez in the opening of Chronicle of a Death Foretold. I cite these examples to show how rich this one-liner is. Savor them.

But unlike those authors’ fantastic characters, Aldama presents us a person who hungers. This realism is another intrinsic component of the collection,

6

quepasa.osu.edu

divided into allegorical beginnings, middles, and ends. Another important formal aspect of the collection is its mirrored bilingualism: not only are the stories peppered with Spanish phrases, but there are English and Spanish versions of each. This mirroring imitates the borderlands Aldama’s characters inhabit; a space where bilingualism and multiculturalism are quotidian realities, where one language is intimate and the other necessary for survival, where you are one person in one space and another in another. Formally, then, the stories, like their characters, successfully navigate the borderlands. Aldama, like his characters, so familiar to him, is able to travel between the two languages/cultures he inhabits and that inhabit him with the ease of a puma in its domain. For both Aldama and his characters, the borderlands is the house of their being, to paraphrase the German philosopher Martin Heidegger (On Humanism). It is where they “live, move, and have their being,” to borrow the line from Acts 17:28. An additional formal aspect of the book itself is the great illustrations from Mapuche.

The collection engages the theme of borderland in other ways. Borderlands are spaces where two cultures meet and, often reluctantly, coexist.

From its subject matter to its mirrored bilingualism, Aldama’s collection of short stories is about that. It is also a collection of short stories where fiction coexists with non-fiction. In other words, the universals in the fiction are drawn from the particulars of everyday Latino reality. Aldama plays with the concepts of borderland itself, for the stories don’t take place in any specific real-world geographic location. The borderlands are the lives of the characters. Borderlands are unstable environments where precarity—unpredictability, job insecurity, uncertainty about physical and psychological welfare—is the order of the day. Nothing more precarious than the fragile lives of those

Photo Credit: Luis Fernando Macías

who inhabit Aldama’s borderlands; men and women who could roam our streets and not frighten us, unlike Picasso’s creations, as his wife once told him. Borderlands, furthermore, is the place of rejects, of those forgotten by society. These characters’ precariousness comes from their marginalization, from their liminal existence, from their being in between, in limbo.

It has always been the aim of good fiction to tell the truth. In this book, Aldama tells a timely truth; one we thought self-evident, but that is being compromised by alternatives facts. In the age of post-truth, fiction will have to reiterate the truths that embolden men and women to cross borders, to take risks, to fight to bring to their lives the dignity they believe it should have, not to settle. Aldama has given us a great beginning. Like the work of Junot Diaz and so many other great young writers, Long Stories Cut Short should become part of every high school and core college curriculum. As Ayize put it, “To ignore [this] work is to ignore the lives of millions.” Happy reading!

Decolonizing Film Studies 101: A Global Approach to Cinema

Photo Credit: Dr. Aldama

Every week at the Gateway Film Center, our students aren’t just experiencing an ordinary “Introduction to Film” class.

In addition to viewing the work of such western film giants like George Méliès and Alfred Hitchcock, they’re also soaking in the images of Mira Nair’s Salaam Bombay! (1988), Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Amores Perros (2001), and Dee Rees’s Pariah (2011).

This semester, Frederick Luis Aldama and his graduate teaching associates— including Rocío Prado and myself—are interested in providing a film course that is diverse not only in terms of content, but also form. With the inclusion of Mex-Ciné directors along with black and queer filmmakers, we hope to de-stratify the hegemony of white-male filmmakers that has come to dominate not only cinema screens but film syllabi.

That is not to say that Quentin Tarantino and Christopher Nolan do not have an important position on the course syllabus, because they do…what’s not to love about QT’s crafty dialogue and Hans Zimmer’s bassy scores? However, we have decided to include films like Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing (1989) and Robert Rodriguez’s Machete (2010)

By Danielle Orozco, PhD Student, English because we feel that such texts are socially and politically relevant, and that such cinematic voices are aesthetically important despite their limited visibility in mainstream culture. Our course has also featured a variety of guest speakers, including local Columbus filmmaker Chris Bournea and executive producer James Younger of National Geographic’s The Story of God with Morgan Freeman. For students, film becomes alive through such valuable networking opportunities. Multilingual, multicultural, and multinational in nature, our class aspires to not only diversify discourses about film, but to initiate difficult discussions about race, gender, class, and orientation within an increasingly globalized world. Without borders, the possibilities for film analysis becomes like the z-axis of a frame— full of depth but with deep focus.

Latinidad and Jewishness: Days of Awe by Achy Obejas

By Jonathan Branfman, PhD Candidate, Women’s, Gender & Sexuality Studies Blending Latinidad and Jewishness, Days of Awe follows Cuban-American translator Alejandra (Ale) San José. Born in Havana on the day of Castro’s victory, smuggled to Miami at age two, and raised in Chicago, Ale slowly untwines her family’s history in adulthood.

Rediscovering Cuba also allows Ale to name the difference she has always sensed in her father: his hidden Jewishness, passed down through five centuries of marranos (forced converts to Catholicism) since the dawn of colonialism and Cuba’s birth.

This plot beautifully unwinds false dichotomies between Jewish and Latinx experience and identity. Obejas not only highlights Jewishness as a thread within Caribbean life, but also explores how the Spanish Inquisition, the Holocaust, and the Cuban Revolution resonate together on frequencies of trauma, exile, survival, diaspora, memory, language, and identity. She makes it possible to think Jewishness and Latinidad together in powerful news ways.

For anyone interested in Cuban, Caribbean, Jewish, Latino, and/or immigrant experience, Days of Awe makes an excellent read.

Days of Awe. Achy Obejas.

Penguin Random House. 2002. 402 pgs.

Spring ’17 7

Destiny Frasqueri, known to her fans and new fans alike as Princess Nokia (AKA Wavy Spice, AKA Destiny) is a 24 year old Afro-Latina rapper from New York City. I was introduced to Princess Nokia while I was down a YouTube rabbit hole of music videos and came across the video for “Tomboys.” The song in itself shares with its listeners the many sides of Princess Nokia that can be endlessly explored in her other projects like [insert names of other mixtapes here].

However, her newest offering, 1992 is making waves in the blogosphere and hip-hop communities alike.

But let’s backtrack here. What makes Princess Nokia so special? What makes her distinguishable from other rappers gaining popularity in 2017?

I can spend various paragraphs and pages citing her flow, ability to switch-up said flow, and emotive vocal choices and you would probably get the point. In addition to those aspects, it is important to highlight her expression of her Afro-Latina roots in her music, online platforms, live shows, and pretty much everything she is involved with.

The song “Brujas” from 1992 is one of the most apparent expressions if her Afro-Latina decent. The song is centered around her religion and spirituality and even sees her trace her ancestry in rhyme:

"I’m that Black a-Rican bruja straight out from the Yoruba And my people come from Africa diaspora, Cuba And you mix that Arawak, that original people I’m that Black Native American, I vanquish all evil I’m that Black a-Rican bruja straight out from the Yoruba And my ancestors Nigerian, my grandmas was brujas And I come from an island and it’s called Puerto Rico And it’s one of the smallest but it got the most people" The Fader, Remezcla, OkayAfrica and Nylon Magazine have all recognized the song and video for “Brujas” as the spiritual Afro-Latina anthem that it is. However, her influence is not confined to this one song. If you visit her Instagram @PrincessNokia) you will come across plenty of posts about her Black and Brown heritage and more importantly, her pride about both.

Her podcast, Smart Girls Club Radio was a platform created for her and other guests to discuss what she calls “Urban Feminism” which can be characterized as “feminism for the ghetto woman.” Looking at the digital cover for each podcast, the description showcases her dedication to Black and Brown women [photo]. Princess Nokia’s willingness to center her Afro-Latina identity in her career can be seen as resistance against the tumultuous times we are living in as PoC. These are only a few of the examples of her work, but you simply search her name you’ll be introduced to her world and much more.

ICYMI: Princess Nokia’s Afro-Latinidad

By Sai Isoke, MA student, Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies

Album cover of Princess Nokia's 1992.

8

quepasa.osu.edu

1992 is streaming and available for free download at PrincessNokia.org

Follow her on Twitter (@PrincessNokia) and Instagram (@PrincessNokia)

Patricia Valoy: Latina engineer and life saver

By Neil Ramírez, Senior, Mechanical Engineering At this pivotal time in my life where I am only weeks away from receiving my mechanical engineering degree (the first male in my family to graduate from a four-year institution by the way), I found myself in need of a sense of direction and hope for what is to come next.

Meeting Patricia at this time was a blessing. The way that she carried herself as a confident Latina in a field plagued by cis-straight white men is nothing short of inspiring. Patricia is a beacon of hope for all those who feel like the world is against them.

Members of the Spring 2017 Andean Ensemble at End of Semester Andean Music Concert. Photo Credit: Gordon Lewis Ulmer, PhD candidate, Anthropology

LASER Scholar Playlist

By Kenia Lizbeth Ponce Benites, Beechcroft High School Este informe se va a tratar de mi álbum de canciones favoritas. Las canciones son: • Lo aprendí de ti de (Ha y Ash).

• Eres My todo de (feat. Los primos).

• Colgando en tus manos de (Carlos baute con Marta Sánchez).

• Llévame Despacio de (Paulina Goto).

• Tenerte de (Luis Coronel).

• Hoy es un buen día de (Río Roma).

• Tenerte de (Río Roma).

Todas estas canciones me hacen recordar momentos felices que viví en Honduras con mi familia, mis amigos, y mi novio. Son recuerdos que nunca se van a poder olvidar y que han dejado en mi corazón. Me hacen sentir mejor al recordarlos y al pensar de lo mejor que me pudo haber pasado. Mis sentimientos están dirigidos a una persona que está lejos, pero para el amor no hay distancia, ni rumbo, ni nada que lo pueda derribar. Si el amor es fuerte, au estando lejos, se puede valorar y amar. El amor a distancia es para valientes.

Photo credit: Kenia Lizbeth Ponce Benites Spring ’17

9

EXPRESIONES Qhapaq Raymi Perupi

By Daniel Runnels, PhD Student, Indiana University Ñuqawan yachaykunawan diciembrepi Peruman ripurqayku. Ñuqayku Limapi chantapis Tarapoto, chantapis Lamas, chantapis Chachapoyas untukurqayku.

Limata jatun llaqta, Tarapotota Chachapoyas mana jatun llaqtachu. Ñuqayku chunka pusaqniyuq punchaw Perupi kachkarqayku. Ñuqa Indianapi sapa punchaw rumpiyta munani, ichaqa Perupi mana rumpirqani. Ñuqa Perúrunakunawan parlarqani. Ñuqa mana achka Quechua simita parlarqani, ichaqa allin pisi. Ñuqa Tarapotopi Lamaspi Quechua simita parlarqani. Ñuqa Limapi Chachapoyaspi españolta parlarqani.

Yachaykuna mana españolta Quechua simita parlankuchu. Ñuqayku comunidad indígenapi watukurqayku. Sutin Shukshuyaku.

Jaqay, ñuqaykuwan warmi wawawan fútbolta pukllarqayku. Chanta, ñuqayku agriculturata yachaykurqayku. Ñuqayku mikhunatapis yachaykurqayku. Chanta, ñuqaykuwan comunidadwan jatun mikhunata mikhurqayku.

Chaymanta ñuqayku juchuy llaqtaman watukurqayku. Sutin Wayku. Jaqay, ñuqaykuwan warmi wawawan qhari wawawan tusurqayku. Paykuna yachachirqanku, ñuqayku yachaykurqayku.

Chanta ñuqa cocata upyarqani.

Chanta, ñuqayku Limapi kutirqayku.

Yachaykuna Estados Unidosman kutirqanku, ichaqa ñuqa Limapi qhipakurqani. Ñuqa Limapi chichata upyarqani. Ñuqa Limapi cevicheta mikhurqani. Chantapis ñuqa bibliotecata watukurqani, chantapis panqakuna rantirqani – juk panqa Quechua simimanta, achka panqa españolmanta.

Chanta, ñuqa Houstonman ripurqani.

Jaqay ñuqawan llawar masiwan navidad q’uchuchirqayku.!

10

quepasa.osu.edu

Quechua Simi

By Guillermo López-Prieto, Indiana University, Spanish/Portugues

Ñuqa Indiana jatun yachaywasipi yachakuni. Sutiy Guillermo. Ñuqa kimsa chunka watayuq. Ñuqa Cubamanta kani. Ñuqawan Elizabethwan ñawpaq wata lata p’isqupi Indianamanta New Hampshirekama rirqayku. Ñuqayku New Hampshirepi iskay chunka p’unchaw kachkarqayku. Elizabethpis Indiana jatun yachaywasipi yachakun. Elizabeth kimsa chunka watayuqpis. Ñuqayku achkha p’achata apamurqayku.

New Hamshirepi ancha chiri. Ñuqayku mana wayt’arqaykuchu. Ñuqa sapa p’unchaw 9 phanita jatarikurqani, chanta ñuqa mayllakurgani. Elizabethwan tatanwan mamanwan ñuqawan sapa paqarin sach’a sach’api purirqayku, chanta ñuqayku anqas p’isquwan pukllarqayku. Ñuqawan Elizabethwan sapa ch’isi tusuna wasipi tusurqayku. Ñuqa machanaykamapuni tequilata upyarqani. Elizabeth mana tequilata upyanchu. Pay lawata mikhurqa. Ñuqa mana lawata munarqanichu. Ñuqa ni jayk’aq lawata mikhurqanichu. Ñuqa wallpa aychatayuq papatawan, ch’uñutawan mikhurqani.

Elizabeth mamanjina mikhunata wayk´un, chanta ñuqa juk runtuyuqlla mikhunata munani, mana iskaytachu. Ñuqayku sayk’uykukamapuni tusurqayku. Ñuqapis yana chukchayuq warmiwan tusurqani. Ñuqawan Elizabethwan 2 a.m phanita kuntulapi wasikama jamurqayku. Ñuqayku New Hampshirepi achkha runawan tinkurqayku. Ñuqayku ñawpaqta manaraq New Hampshirepi kachkarqaykuchu. Ñuqapis Elizabethpis achkhata New Hampshire munayku.

Tinkunakama, Guillermo López-Prieto

Teaching Quechua Using Features of Online Instruction and Community Learning

By Mark Kolat, Program Content Creator/Editor for Quechua, and Elvia Andía-Grágeda, Quechua Lecturer, Spanish

The Ohio State University, Indiana University and Oberlin College are utilizing video conferencing to teach the most spoken indigenous language of the Americas: Quechua.

An innovative vision that opens doors to indigenous and minority languages, this method allows for a larger base of students to interact with those at other universities, forming a Quechua Learning Community that surpasses the boundaries of the traditional classroom setting. Classes take place in person on the Columbus Campus of Ohio State and are broadcast in real-time to Indiana and Oberlin.

Essential to the success of this program is the mutual support between institutions in sharing roles and activities in order to furnish a common classroom space between them. Other vital features that make this program unique

include methodological planning that strengthens the teaching of Quechua with a variety of written, visual and audio materials; and constant classroom and pedagogical support to maximize the linguistic competence of the participants. The active participation of those involved in this process demonstrates a collaborative effort that creates not just a classroom of students, but a tightly-knit group based on mutual support and partnerships. Through the presence of a screen in the classroom, the pseudo-barrier of distance is eliminated and the distinct classrooms are converted into a single one that encourages learning using the frequent communication of each student to create its community-based atmosphere. Here, everyone knows each other as a fellow student and colleague with the same goal of learning the Quechua language. The language itself exhibits this neighborly quality as it possesses the following principles that serve as the linchpin of the class: yanapakuy (mutual help), ayñi (giving and taking while recognizing a reciprocal action) and mik’a (continuous work, communal equality). All of these attitudes are brought into the present space and time through this Quechua collective as every person is a significant, important part of the Quechua Learning Community. These principles and their execution in the classroom result in the knowledge of and respect for an indigenous language and its associated cultural underpinnings. With this sort of language instruction, we hope to see an increased number of students interested in this Andean language who study with us, either in person in Columbus, or at one of our partner institutions.

Photo credit: Spanish department

Spring ’17

11

EXPRESIONES

ART

in the Short North

The Short North Art District is vibrant, brimming with college students and twenty-somethings, and there are bars galore; when someone visits, it’s where you take them to see the best the city has to offer. There is also art in the Short North, and lots of it. The galleries are the epitome of contemporary art, each displaying a few highly conceptual and abstract works. Murals have also found a home here. The Short North Arts District website states that murals “embod[y] the spirit of the district.” Some of the most recognized murals in this Columbus strip are Leonardo’s Mona Lisa and Grant Wood’s American Gothic. Mona Lisa resting on her side and the American Gothic father and daughter in switched positions—the farmer at the bottom and the daughter upside down—“make a statement” unique to the Short North. These are the basic, generic tactics implemented to attract the upper middle-class to a location to that used to be lowly and ‘ghetto.’ We not only see this in the art of the Short North, but also in real estate, for example, the newly renovated Wonder Bread Lofts in Italian Village, just two blocks away.

Using art as financial tactic is nothing new under the sun.

Art is a primary tool of gentrification not only in Columbus, but in larger cities such as Los Angeles—the Arts District and Echo Park, and the Brooklyn Arts District in New York City. The Short North is Columbus’s most obvious attempt to make a depreciated area once again profitable, and art is being used to do this. Once artists establish galleries, it brings in crowds, and once it becomes popular, investors come and build high-priced suites that max out local artists and galleries and create a new surfaced, monopolized “art district,” enter gentrification.

Okay, so art is being used as profit.

Big deal, what’s new? Nothing, nothing is new. But that is exactly the problem. Nobody is saying anything about this, or about how gentrification is effecting the poorer communities living in Columbus.

Have most students at OSU—the demographic the Short North is mostly for—even seen other parts of town? Probably not. The people that lived in the Short North, even ten years ago, have been maxed out of it, forced into less developed areas of the city. Once you step out of ‘OSU World’ and the Short North,

12

quepasa.osu.edu

By: Jeannette Martinez, MA student, History of Art

the city becomes something else entirely. Rows and rows of housing completely abandoned, buildings closed and literally falling apart; and in peripheral view, there is always the sight of the glorious Ohio State. Gentrification divides a city’s communities, it creates an illusion that doesn’t accurately reflect what it really is. This is not a problem unique to Columbus, using art to whitewash poor areas of town has occurred in most metropolitan areas. In the past months, Boyle Heights in Los Angeles has proactively resisted gentrification, and they are pointing directly to art galleries as the root of the problem. Here in Columbus, we seem to be ignoring that gentrification exists.

Here is the biggest issue with gentrification in the Short North: it is a weak attempt at integrating art into the public realm, especially the use of murals. Muralism in the United States, and in the Americas in general, is rooted in politicism and resistance. Muralism and public art serve as visual languages, art in public spaces speaks in manners verbal language cannot. It can demonstrate the everyday biases that we cannot speak about, it can initiate unity, or, as it did in the 2008 presidential election, it can inspire hope. The art in the Short North completely disregards this inherent characteristic of muralism, further reinforcing how gentrification is solely for profit, it is merely decorous.

Muralism in the Short North is plain and boring; art is being misused. Art is more than a thing to see, and it is certainly more than a financial tactic. But, hey, maybe seeing colorful circles stickered to a wall will entice you buy that extra slice of overpriced pizza.

Photo Credit: Marie Lerma

“International students add to our diverse tapestry of campus life.

Approximately, 67 countries and 6 continents are represented...Ohio State is a global university and we are committed to preparing all of our students for the global realities with which they will live and work.”

—Dr. Javaune Adams-Gaston Ohio State University Fall Commencement, December 18, 2016 The Ohio State University actively claims a global status and positions itself as a champion of diversity. While we have made some significant strides in achieving a student body which is representative of plurality, we do little to substantively ensure their success here at OSU. One such axis of inclusion we have failed at is language. We have installed multiple institutional impediments to marginalize accented students of colour. This adversely affects Latino, Asian and in many case Muslim students who can be either international or domestic students.

Linguistic profiling and discrimination has been predominant in admission processes, scholarship allocations and mandated ESL testing. A lot of these students come from countries which already use English as a primary or secondary language of communication due to histories of colonialism. Ironically, even many domestic students are profiled as non-English speakers based on irrational stereotypes. There has been a steady pattern of prospective undergraduate Latinx Buckeyes being marked as needing the TOEFL despite having completed K-12 in Ohio schools, with a common denominator being a non-anglicized name.

Another form of OSU’s systematic linguistic violence imposes ESL-mandated testing and pronunciation classes on students with regional accents, preventing them from classroom teaching and restricting their pedagogic

development. In his expansive study on the subject, legal scholar Dr. William Y. Chin (2010) states “linguistic profiling denies accented students of color equal educational opportunities and presents another barrier to their educational advancement”. These forms of exclusions demonstrate that colonialism is alive and well and OSU contributes to it through its linguistic empire, by refusing to acknowledge the multiplicity of English speech.

For instance, in the UCLA Journal Voices (2014) they described Chicano English as “...simply a different variety of English, which is also privileged with social value in particular contexts— albeit, social value that may not be reserved for the highest echelon of society in the English-speaking world."

Replace Chicano English with any linguistic variation of English and we understand the institutional framework in which OSU tells the majority of their students we have exposed you to a variety of speakers to make you more marketable while simultaneously stripping students of color of their voice and telling them that they via their language varieties are inferior.

The lack of awareness around language as an axis of discrimination in existing diversity and inclusion programing has been damaging to already marginalized students of color.

It is important to not reduce the issue as administrative and be conscious of discriminatory racial ideology. The lack support structures and advocacy forums addressing linguistic bias has disenfranchised these students. The repeated denial of linguistic proficiency further depreciates student confidence and institutionally alienates them. These grievous patterns affect everyday student experience and manifests itself as an active form of othering.

If OSU envisions to be a truly global university, it remains extremely important to create a culture of linguistic inclusion and recognize that speech is as diverse as its people. In order to achieve this goal, OSU administration needs to initiate a study collecting data in linguistic discrimination, reassess the grounds on which TOEFL and ESL-mandated tests are determined. We reiterate, in denying diverse variations of spoken English, OSU is stripping many Buckeyes of color of their voice.

Linguistic Profiling and Discrimination at OSU

By Swati Vijaya (PhD Student, Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies) and Elena Costello Tzitzún, PhD Student, Spanish Spring ’17

13

14

quepasa.osu.edu

Spring ’17

15

Artist Credit: Maria Sanchez-Luna, Photo Credit: Luis Fernando MacĂ­as

EXPRESIONES A Conversation with Jennicet Gutiérrez

By Neil Ramírez, Senior, Mechanical Engineering When people hear Jennicet Gutiérrez, they often think of this activist’s action during a celebration for LGBTQ accomplishments by President Obama in June of 2015.

Jennicet was invited as part of La Familia: Trans Queer Liberation Movement (TQLM), with other members. They had been doing activism for a while, and so realized that this invitation was a place for action. Jennicet and the other members of TQLM and other activist groups could see that doors were being shut for trans immigrants. People were celebrating a president while ignoring cries of people in detention centers. Not only that, but Black trans women were and are being murdered every 48 hours. So, Jennicet felt that there was no way she could go and not say something about these pressing, but obscured issues that LGBTQ people face. Her heroic action to criticize President Obama is an important lesson to always question and work to make each other better allies.

When asked about how people try to label her, Jennicet said that we can’t prioritize one identity over others we hold. She said that she would like to share her intersectional experiences with as many people as possible in order to get rid of fear. A lot of people act the way they do towards immigrants, undocumented and not, and trans people out of ignorance. She also insisted on the importance of letting youth know that they are not alone, and that they have an army of community. They have every right to exist. We need to provide a platform to listen and make life easier for the next generation as we fight, while making room for the next generation too.

Jennicet also advised us on starting activist work. She recommended that people clean their own house before they try to reach out to communities that you’re not a part of.

First, face our questions, be very intentional, make others visible, surround yourself with elders you can look up to, and always challenge yourself. Jennicet’s goal is to plant seeds of resistance. Assimilation is not the goal. People should also avoid the ‘perfect’ immigrant image. Good immigrants versus bad immigrants is a dangerous strategy that benefits the status quo. It also means turning our back on so many people. People get too comfortable with that status quo, while others get left out. Liberation has to be for all of us, or none of us.

Speaking with Jennicet was an honor because she has inspired so many through her actions. The most important lesson to take away was to live our life everyday with the intent of making the world a better place. Ask yourself, are my actions adding to the oppression of others? If so, change them and see how the world can become a better place.

16

quepasa.osu.edu

Above: Jennicet Gutiérrez in the office of Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies by a panting of Angela Davis by Tess Pugsley.

Below: Jennicet with Neil RamÍrez and Zakaria Farah.

"Imayna kasanki, kay p'unchaykuna?"

Yoga clase-nisqata tukuytawan.

Wasiyman kutispa leeyta qallarini pacha.

Chay p’unchaykuna, ashka ruwanay karqan,

Samarikuspa leeyqa manchay sumaq

ichaqa tukuy ima sumaq,

imaraykuchus yuyayninchis k’ancharin.

noqaqa kusikuni.

Samakunaypaq, wasi-ruwanata ruwani.

Kay Autumn Semestre-nisqa: agosto,

Sapa p’unchay, mikunata wayk’uni.

septiembre, octubre, noviembre, diciembre

Mikhuna wayk’uypis gustawan.

ancha sasa karqapis, ichaqa sumaq karqan.

Wasi-ruwanaqa anchata gustawan

Clasesniypaq, ashka películas-nisqata qhawani.

Munaspa mana munaspa,

Chay sábadopis, sapa domingopis,

mikunata wayk’unay tiyan.

Chay películas yuyayniypi kashan.

Munaspa mana munaspa, wasiypi ruwanay tiyan.

Clasesniypaqpis, ashka, ashka ashka librusta

Chay tukuy ancha sumaq samakunapaq.

estudiashani.

Wasiypi librusniyta leeni.

“Chay semestre-nisqapi, ima jatun eventos-

Oficinaypipis librusniyta leeni.

nisqa karqan?

Sauna-nisqapipis librusniyta leeni!

Noqaqa, uj ratu octubrepi

Maypipis, noqa leenay tiyan!

Clevelandman rirqani, conferenciapaq.

Miercoles, jueves, viernes, sábado,

Mamaywan OLAC-conferenciaman rirqayku.

sapa p’unchay librusniyta leeni!

Maykaqpis, noqa leenay tiyan!

Departamentuykupaq, may jatun conferencia octubre killapi karqan.

“Waw! Chay chhikata leenaykiri!

Chay conferenciaq sutin “ILCLA/STLILA.”

Kunanri imata ruwanki samakunaykipaqri?”

Jaqaypipis, noviembrepi, Filadelfiaman Samakunaypaq, gimnasioman riyta yachaq kani.

rillarqanitaq, conferencia karqan.

“Fitness clase”-nisqaman rini, ñaqha sapa tuta.

Amiguywan rirqayku.

Yoga clase-nisqamanpis rinipuni.

Noqaqa anchatapuni kusikuni yoga clase-pi.

* * *

Quechua Jarawi

By Caroline Shipley, PhD Student, Spanish and Portuguese

You can find the rest of this poem at: quepasaohiostate.tumblr.com

Spring ’17

17

EXPRESIONES Un Pueblo Unido

Jamás Será Vencido

By Sinai Cruz-Santos, Senior, English

Immigrants all across Ohio and across nation stayed home February 16, 2017 to demonstrate how important they play in America’s economy. The movement, “A Day Without an Immigrant,” went viral on social media as people shared it urging not to go to work, open their businesses, send their children to school, or buy products. Coming from a family who owns a Mexican bakery, I was intrigued by this movement.

The day before the boycott I had customers who told me that their managers, despite being American, encouraged them to participate and told them that they were huge players at their establishments. It fascinated me to hear these comments because it was refreshing to know that there are some places

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

She stands alone, with a torch in one hand, and a book in the other, with a message written on it. Almost every “American” could and would recognize this symbol, it’s location, and name, but how many can actually tell you where it came from and what message she carries. Even far more troubling, what is the meaning of this message and does it really apply to anyone? What does this really mean? Is this really the “American” attitude and understanding of the grandiose superior possession that only “Americans” have... FREEDOM.

The United States is seen as a torchlight of freedom throughout the world, due to this illusive FREEDOM that every individual in America possesses. Everyone around the world is dying to have a chance to come to the US to experience this wonderful gift that “God” bestowed on “Americans.” However, when they get here they find out that this torchlight of “Freedom” is just the reflection of the ambers of a house on fire, burning from within. America the beautiful is like that statue with an elegant dress on her to cover up her shame. Born from murder and genocide, then waxed economically strong by slavery, America the Great and Might Babylon of the modern times stands rich and strong. Its corporations reaching around the world as it spreads “democracy” throughout the savage lands of this Earth. With tentacles reaching every eye and ear through its movie and music industry, it is a juggernaut spreading seeds of “freedom” that is a mask for its “Corporatocracy.”

Where is Lady Liberty?

By Chris Vasquez, Undergraduate, Chinese

18

quepasa.osu.edu

that value our community despite the racial tension we see on television. A vast majority of tiendas Latinas closed and hundreds of people didn’t go to work. Although it was a day to unified, there were some divisions among the us, especially on social media where people were sharing those people and places who didn’t participated in the boycott. I spoke to a friend who decided to work and when I asked him why, he said, “It’s a personal choice. I wouldn’t get offended if others went to work. You don’t know their situation.” At the march at the Statehouse, one student said, “I’m here for my parents who took a chance to come here and give me a better life.” One family member express that, “Esto es para todos ellos que se la pasan chambiando todo los dias.

Los que se levantan con miedo que talvez ya no regresen en la tarde. Los padres que dejaron su familia en su pais, y los niños de esta generacion que pueden hacer algo para cambiar esto. To a few, the boycott might had gone unnoticed. But to us, it meant something. It meant that when we put our heart to it we can unite as a strong community. I can say without a doubt that day felt empty. I can’t imagine a day without immigrants. I hope to never see one.

Every Empire must have an economic base and the Globalization that has recently been introduced to the masses, has long been in use among the so-called Third World. This is a trigger word for the tired, poor, huddled masses yearning to breathe free, because their life is being choked out of them. The wretched homeless are the masses of people bombed in to oblivion because their ideology or religion is not in line with the Empire.

Tempest tossed because the waves of economic sanctions have hit them like a tsunami that destroyed their economy. So, when these whom you invite to come to your land, that you call refuse, finally reach your shores they find out that it is all a lie. The Golden door is no more than a giant golden gate on the wall that is being built and is now shut. This might fortress is now on fire from within because the anger of its people is kindled and burning bright. Lady Liberty has long since left her place. She threw her torchlight over the wall because where there is no truth, there is no justice, and with no justice there is no peace.

Polishing “But how do you maintain your identity?” the words hang in the air, and the six of us, four students, two professionals, pause.

We’ve been discussing professionalism as Latinxs. Alone, perhaps we don’t appear Hispanic. But in a group, it becomes more evident. It’s as if the strong parts of our appearances; the dark eyes, the various shades of skin from olive to pale, the thick varying shades of hair, are multiplied in one another’s presence, and it becomes obvious that we all share something together. Or perhaps it’s just the sense of a how small our community is that binds us together. Our otherness. We are downtown in a mahogany conference room of an expensive and prestigious firm. I am in my final semester of my professional degree. A man with dark hair, olive skin, and a dark suit looks thoughtful, very nearly pained, almost like he’s struck with a sudden toothache, and finally says in measured words, “you just have to find that balance between professionalism and your identity.” I am still looking for that balance.

Be polished is a constant theme of becoming professional. But the polish starts out by battering me, not smoothing me. When I was in my first year, Gabo died, and a professor emailed me and asked if I wanted to say a few words about his work.

I realized I was the only “Hispanic” student in the class, so even though Gabo was Columbian, and my heritage is Mexican, I say a few words about his works in our next class, and sit down quickly at the end, a strange sense of shame creeping across my face despite my love for the author. The polishing continues when I’m accused of turning in the same professor for saying something disparaging about Latinxs in class—I feel battered as I snarl that it wasn’t me, but if the professor is concerned perhaps instead of finding who told on him he should just not say offensive things.

In my second year, at our first meeting and only having known my tell-tale last name, an adjunct says, “Your writing sounds like

By K. J. Amador, Alumni

English isn’t your first language.” Stunned, I say nothing. My father refused to teach my sister and I Spanish as children for fear people would “know” we were Mexican.

I know now it didn’t matter. The polish, this time, is me smiling and taking her sharp and unnecessarily mean criticism with good humor and silence, eventually breaking into angry tears at our last meeting in a Panera when the smoothing became too much to bear.

In my third year, I started having real interviews. For each one I straighten my hair; a painstaking, multi-hour process sure to be foiled by the Midwestern humidity. With straight hair, I am constantly aware that it’s not quite natural, not quite sleek; it’s too thick to fall gracefully, but I do it anyway.

I’ve read studies that curls are perceived as messy, disorganized, unprofessional—and I don’t want those characteristics to be associated with me. I imagine the other women I am competing with for a summer position— the women at my school with creamy complexions and naturally sleek blonde or light brown hair. Delicate noses, delicate features, German names. Their suits are fitted, their heels and bags— designer. It suddenly seems fine that straightening my hair requires advanced planning and makes my hands pink and sore from mild burns. I want to blend; I want to compete. Professionalism polishes me as the iron heats, and I polish myself.

In my office job, I feel forced to mispronounce my name over the phone.

Not by my boss or my coworkers, but coerced by my own self-preservation.

If I pronounce it correctly the spelling is butchered. In conference calls the result is harsh and almost nasal. “AmA-Door” I shout into the speakerphone.

It is stumbling, there is no cadence to it, no music, no natural feeling. This pronunciation gets no affection from me.

Each time I pronounce it incorrectly feels like a brush of rough polish swiping against me. But I win some battles against it, too.

I’ve begun introducing myself with a strong handshake, pronouncing my last name without shame, and not backing down if it’s questioned. I speak Spanish to the ultra-kind cleaning women who tend to my office. The language, the one my padre feared would diminish how society saw me, is now a strength on my resume.

The polishing continues in small ways after graduation and into employment, but it’s gotten easier too. I am complimented on my ‘tan’, and don’t correct the speaker on their misconception. I dress conservatively.

I avoid animal prints, and nail polish that is not beige, mauve, or ‘nude’. I am afraid of being a stereotype. I am afraid of not being Latina enough. The balance in policing myself and maintaining myself is exhausting.

Be polished, they tell us back in the conference room. But what they mean is that representation matters. We Latinxs are so few and far between in our profession that as a consequence we each act as a representative for the entire census defined check box of Hispanic. We are every Hispanic person that comes after us and came before. One bad apple spoils the bunch. One stereotype ruins us all.

The Latinxs before me broke into the profession; it’s now my job to do the same for the Latinxs after me. We must maintain our presence with pride and dignity.

I sometimes fear all the polishing is buffing out the edges of my identity. That all the polish of professionalism is making me lose my unique shape. When I get home, I change out of my suit. I speak Spanish to my cats. I put chile salt on my oranges and make beans and rice as comfort food.

I go to brunches with other Latinas to feel unique belonging. I shower, and as the water hits my hair the curls are released from their straight confines, free to be messy, disorganized, dark, and heavy. The balance is both a struggle to maintain my professionalism and a struggle to maintain my identity.

Spring ’17

19

SELF-IDENTITY

QUÉ PASA I self identify as Hispanic. My father is Caucasian (White) born and raised in Montana. My mother is Mexican, born and raised in Juárez, Chihuahua. I was born in Germany. In high school I was asked for my ethnicity on a state exam but the forms did not have an option for Hispanic. I felt if I marked "White" I was completely disregarding my mother’s heritage.

I chose "Other." Now, I self identify as "Hispanic" because I’m half White and half Mexican—I'm "Hispanic. I feel this best honors both of my parents’ cultures and identities.

–Sheila A. McQuiston

I identify as a queer – Rocio Isabel Prado

To be Latinx is to be uprooted, tossed around, and still thrive. Just as my parents left their country at a young age in search of better opportunities, I too left everything friendly and familiar to pursue an education thousands of miles away from home.

– Neil Ramirez

I identify as Latino but more importantly I identify as Salvadoran and immigrant. I always identify as Salvadoran first because when I first arrived in the US, people were quick to call me Mexican, which meant no harm but was very annoying. By identifying as Salvadoran, I’d like to think I’m putting my country on the map since there aren’t that many Salvadorans in Columbus and even less at Ohio State. Culturally, I’m in some sort of grey area. I came to Columbus when was five, can speak Spanish fluently, love soccer, love grandma’s cooking, can dance to cumbia, and took part in quinceañeras but do they listen to Kanye in El Salvador? I’m definitely Americanized in a lot of ways, which is a testament to being an immigrant, but at the end of the day I very much know what it means to be a Guanaco. Work hard and keep the family close.

– Yuri Arteaga

Latina.

I self-identify as Mexican-American. I define myself as being Mexican-American, because I was born to Mexican parents but was born in the United States. I am in both worlds, in my opinion. I talk in English to all of my friends, but at home I speak in Spanish. I am proud to be both Mexican and American.

– Yajaira Ayala

20

quepasa.osu.edu

Reader Voices I identify as Xicana because I am 1st generation woman born in the U.S., the term embraces my Mexican-American roots and indigeneity. Broadly, I identify and prefer to use Latinx because it is gender fluid and inclusive for all.

– Marisol Becerra I identify as Afro-Latino because of my Caribbean roots.

– Miguel A. Valerio I usually say Indigenous identified Xicana feminist.

– Randi Lopez

I am Mestiza, Xicana, Latina, Latinx. Mesitza acknowledges my indigenous roots; Xicana a nomenclature that stands as radical neither wholly Mexican nor wholly US-ian but a resistant combination of both; Latina unites me with sisters; Latinx unites me with all my people from the Philipines to Jamaica to Guatemala to Brasil, all of us who are the survivors of peninsular colonization.

– Elena Costello

I am African American and Mexican; BlackXican. My dad is African American but I grew up in a Mexican family and around a mostly Mexican community.

– Caprice Smith

I identify as immigrant first, woman second, and Latina third. Beyond that I suffer from a severe identity crisis. I want to identify as American, but at times I become exhausted of trying. In the age of Trump there is a lot of rhetoric out there that makes me feel like America, although my home, does not want to claim me.

– Anonymous

Spring ’17

21

PLACE/BELONGING

SAN JUAN

By Isabel Graham-Torrez, Junior, International Studies

As the country I have called home for my entire life feels less warm, and open, and caring, I think back to this little neighborhood where they made me feel at home in a few days. As borders harden, and people are told they are not welcome here in America I hold that neighborhood in my heart. I hold that love and that openness and that respect. That is why this picture is beautiful to me.

It is love, respect, openness.

It is friendship and safety.

I will hold this place in my heart and I will take it with me and share it. I will be a neighborhood of one.

I will respect, I will love, I will listen.

I will be open, I will be a friend, I will be a safe place.

I will be beautiful.

-Photo Accompanied: San Juan-

22

quepasa.osu.edu

I find my identity hard to define. My mom is Black America, my father is Guatemalan-American (but also dark-skinned) and I was raised in a Korean church

by Asian people from all over. I have honestly never felt welcome in Latinx or Black spaces. In university I tried to involve myself with the Asian American community and that didn’t quite work out either. In short, you can say I’ve found a home in dissonance and always being different. If I hadn’t, I guess I would just live in a constant state of discomfort. This has significantly helped in my travels abroad because feeling different is just a part of who I am at this point.

However, growing up in poor home where I was often the one supporting my parents, I did not ever see myself being able to leave state of Ohio. My dreams were vast and my heart was wide, but my access seemed limited. Fast-forward to today and I currently reside

Belonging

By Christina Flores, Ohio State Alumna (Korean, 2015)

in Seoul, South Korea as an elementary school English teacher. The organization I went through is called English Program in Korea (EPIK) and as an EPIK Native English Teacher (NET), I get a settlement allowance, my flights to and from Korea paid for, half of my health insurance paid, a pension that I can access at the end of my contract, a severance bonus, and free rent. Aside from the benefits, I feel like I am doing something good and I get a sense of satisfaction in return.

On top of that, because of this job, I am able to travel leisurely for the first time in my life. My parents were never able to take our family on vacation due to our financial circumstances, but now I can treat my mother and myself. In January 2017, I was able to fly my mom out to Seoul for two weeks. It was an honor to be able to do that for us. Most recently, I took myself on my first solo trip to Malaysia and Singapore. I was able to do things that I never imagined, such as zip lining through the Malaysian rainforest canopy, snorkeling with tiny sharks, and watching brown eagles feed.

I write all of this to say: I never thought any of this would be possible for a poor, mixed-up woman like me. Yet here I am, doing it and not planning on stopping any time soon. But when I do, I hope to work in international education so I can help set up more opportunities like this for all the brown folks out there who never thought they’d be able to leave their backyards. Sometimes, home isn’t where you think it is. Sí, se puede.

Photo Credit: Christina Flores

Photo Credit: Amanda Torres

Fútbol AND A PERFECT PLACE

By Amanda Torres, Beechcraft High School

I grew up in a small town called El Asoleadero in Michoacan, Mexico.

Everyone knew each other, and we were all very close.

Every Sunday, the community would get together to watch futbol and cheer on our favorite teams.

Futbol is primarily dominated by men, but girls in my town played despite the stigma. When I was younger, watching futbol was like love at first sight. The passion, the desire, and the love that I have for futbol is one of the best feelings in the world.

We recently move to Columbus and the idea of starting over seemed very overwhelming. When the school year began, I felt an immense amount of fear, more than I expected. The only thing I really looked forward to was playing futbol at my high school. However, after speaking with a couple of teachers, I was met with disappointment because we did not have a girls’ soccer team at my school. At that point, I felt even more scared, and hopeless because that was the only thing that I thought would help me fit in and interact with others.

The school’s policeman told me to talk to the boys’ team coach. He and the athletic director encouraged me to join the team. I was doubtful at first. Then my parents said to me, “You like the sport, you have the skill, there’s no harm in trying. Who knows, maybe you’ll make some new friends.” I was very anxious about joining the boys’ soccer team but with some encouragement (and courage on my part) I joined the team.

I thought that the boys would completely exclude me because I was the only girl on the team, but they didn’t. The first time I met all of them was in a team meeting that was held in Coach Hone’s classroom. I walked in, and I felt like my heart stopped for a moment as they all looked at me. There was not a single familiar face. More members walked in and stared at me. I was shaking, then suddenly one person stood out. We both made eye contact, we pointed at each other, and said “Oh. You. I know you.” I only knew him by his face, I did not know his name, or anything in particular. But the fact that I recognized someone from the team, made me feel more confident. He and I had gym class together and before I joined the team, we played futbol there. His name is Abdalla, he is now one of my closest friends.

On the team, we were all very different from each other, but we came together, and we became a family. I will never forget them, or the things that we accomplished together, they will forever be in my heart.

Spring ’17

23

Melisa Diaz, doctoral student in Earth Sciences, conducted research at the largest station in Antarctica—McMurdo Station on Ross Island. Here, she worked at Crary Laboratory where she analyzed stream, lake, and glacier water for levels of total organic carbon and nitrogen. The background image is a frozen ice spray that is on the front of the Suess Glacier called the Defile. The second photo is from a hike to Castle Rock which is near Mount Erebus, the southern most active volcano on earth. Melissa described it like this, “It was a cold and windy hike, but we definitely felt like True Antarctic explorers!”

24

quepasa.osu.edu

Photos provided by: Melisa Diaz Spring ’17 25

PLACE/BELONGING Educational trip to Cuba

By Chris Torres

Having grown up in the Caribbean, I knew that this university sponsored travel abroad trip would challenge some of my personal issues concerning control, and that things would not always go as planned. For instance, our group did not stay in a hotel, but rather in individual casas* along several square blocks. I wondered how comfortable I would be living in someone’s private residence for two weeks. Suffice to say that the experience was wonderful and I consider my hosts as family now. The breakfast in the morning was amazing, and the dinners were always delicious. We were always offered fruits, juices, and

coffee with our meals (along with the occasional guanabana or piña ice cream). The food was traditional and always freshly made by hand from scratch, something that I have missed from my childhood.

While in Cuba, I also had the opportunity to visit museums and landmarks like Che Guevara’s memorial. These visits made me reflect on certain preconceptions that I had against Cuban historical figures; preconceptions that were cultivated throughout a lifetime of American doctrine.

This trip has inspired me to learn more about historical, social, and political events rather than passively

believe a singlesided account of complicated history.

I learned much about Cuba as a country, its wonderfully friendly people, and also quite a bit about myself. I would certainly go again if I had the chance. *Casas can be thought of as the Cuban version of a Bed & Breakfast. They are privately owned homes and rooms that are rented out to visitors.

Photo Credit: Chris Torres

Self-Identification Essay

By Jessica Camacho, Undergraduate, Ohio State

Self-identification is something I have struggled with my entire life as an immigrant in America. Mexicans believe I am not Mexican enough because I have lost my accent or because I became Americanized. Americans believe that I cannot consider myself a true American simply because I wasn’t born here. I am constantly reminded of this. A few months ago, as I was sitting in psychology class, my professor asked those of us who spoke more than one language to explain what language we identified ourselves with. I responded “both.” Some psychologists would say that it is Spanish because I developed speech in that language.

And while, I do express many emotions (such as love and affection) better in Spanish, English means a lot more to me.

I learned how to love in English, I learned to public speak in English without being afraid. I learned how to translate for my mother at the store, the hospital, and her job. I learned to stand up for her in English, and I learned to stand up for myself in English. However, this professor’s response was, “But you weren’t born here. That is not your native language.”

26

quepasa.osu.edu

Today, I was again reminded of what it means to self-identify.

On my college application it asks for my parents’ level of formal education and income. The answer section had options that included: lawyer, doctor, nurse, and teacher. At the bottom there was an option for “unskilled.” I would argue that my mother is everything but unskilled. She is so skilled as a matter of fact that she raised five children while working a minimum wage job, in far from ideal working conditions, and not once did her children go to bed hungry at night. As I continued the application, there was a section that asked for citizenship status. The options were “U.S Citizen” and “Other”. My thoughts were: How about an option that says “It’s Complicated”?

I want an application that measures my community involvement, my passion for learning, and my desire to make a difference in the world with my career. But instead, they ask about my immigration status and how much money my “unskilled” mother makes.

Congratulations!

We at ¿Qué Pasa? would like to recognize Dr. Theresa Delgadillo’s promotion to the rank of professor.

This remarkable accomplishment was commemorated on February 8, 2017 with her inaugural lecture “AfroLatinidad in Fiction and Film” in which she discussed her current research on Afro-Latinidad in Mexican, Puerto Rican, and Chicana/o texts – film and literature. Dr. Delgadillo’s scholarship has focused on the intersections of religion, gender, race, and nation. In addition to her stellar research, she has been an outstanding educator and served as a mentor to many Latina/os on campus and beyond.

Congratulations Dr. Delgadillo!

Photo Credit: Luis Fernando Macías

Dr. Jamie Cano Named

Citizen of the Year from Choluteca, Honduras Dr. Jamie Cano, associate professor in the Department of Agricultural Communication, Education and Leadership, and doctoral candidate Tyler Agner were awarded Citizens of the Year from Choluteca, Honduras for their study abroad and education development efforts relating to food and health.

The mayor of the city presented the award.

During this trip, Dr. Cano and Mr. Agner were also commended by the Manuel Bonilla Agricultural School in Apasilagua, Honduras for their work. Other efforts that they support include development of a new nursing program in Honduras.

Spring ’17

27

On a Mission of

Latinx Student Success

By Chris Torres, Assistant Professor, SUNY Potsdam L-to-R: Liane Davila, Tyiesha Radford, and Lauren Lopez

Ohio State alum and now new staff member, Lauren Lopez, has taken a new position leading Latinx Student Success (LSS) efforts in the Office of Diversity and Inclusion. Charged with supporting retention and successful progress of Latinx students at Ohio State, Lauren brings a professional background in education, her own experiences as a Latinx student at Ohio State, and a passion for student learning and leadership development.

Lauren first came to Ohio State from Youngstown, Ohio, to pursue a degree in sociology. She was a Morrill Scholar and a highly engaged student leader, serving as president of Alpha Psi Lambda fraternity and on the executive boards of the University-wide Council of Hispanic Organizations and the Multicultural Greek Council. Upon

graduation, Lauren was selected to join the Teach for America teaching corp, earning teaching awards as a licensed middle school math teacher.

More recently, she served as assistant director of Tutoring and Advising Services for international students, assisting students with the academic and social transition into U.S. schools.

Lauren is eager to put to work the insights gained from her personal and professional experiences.

“It is very important that Latinx students have someone that they feel supports them and can help them assimilate successfully, not only academically but socially as well,” she explained. “I want to assist Latinx students in building strong relationships with faculty, staff, organizations and other students at Ohio State.”

As coordinator of ODI Latino Student Success, Lauren will work in close partnership with LSS program associate Liane Dávila. Liane, a graduate student in public health, is also the president of the Puerto Rican Student Association and member of the University-wide Council of Latino Organizations (UCLO).

Her active student involvement and her experience as a transfer student to the Columbus campus contribute critical perspective of Latinx student life.

The LSS team seeks to cultivate Latinx communities for academic, social and professional development, coordinate high impact programs that promote full inclusion of Latinx students, and work to raise the visibility of Latinx groups on campus in the broader Ohio State community. The LSS office is located in Hale Hall, Room 200.

Autumn 2016 Graduates Associate of Arts Degrees • Erica Botello, AA, Sociology

• Madison Gomez, AA, Marketing

• Gabrielle Bower, AA, Psychology

• Olmares Pena, AA, Nursing

• Paige Gillam, AA, Social Work

• Nancy Ruiz-Chagolla, AA, Social Work

• Michael Vieta, AA, Consumer and Family Financial Services

• Abbigayle Soliday, AA, Psychology

• Nadia Volpini, AA, Marketing

• Steven Apicella, BS, Electrical and Computer Engineering

• Sebastian Cardenas, BS, Biology

• Hannah Chelimsky, BA, International Studies

• David Argaman, BA, Economics

• Maria Chabali, BA, Political Science

• Veronica Cisneros, BS, Early Childhood Education

• Daniel Bonacci, BS, Construction Systems Management

• Brittany Chavana, BS, Fashion and Retail Studies

• Jose Cobo, BA, Political Science

• Alan Perez-Pereo, AA, Biology • Jazleine Rivas, AA, Chemistry

Bachelor’s Degrees • Taha Alghothani, BS, Construction Systems Management • Nicole Almenar, BA, Political Science • Chloe Aparcedo, BA, Communication

28

quepasa.osu.edu

• Adam Collins, BS, Electrical and Computer Engineering • Austin Cuervo, BS, Economics-Business • Alison Cummins, BA, Music • Samuel Davis, BA, Psychology • Taylor DeJesus, BS, Computer Science and Engineering • Leticia DeLeon, BA, Speech and Hearing Science • Katherine Esteve, BA, Communication • Jake Estornell, BA, Political Science • Joao Pedro Fachinetto Ehlers, BS, Sport Industry • Maria Fernandez, BA, Journalism • Ariel Flasterstein, BS, Finance • Johnathan Freedman, BS, Biology • Alexandra Fuxa, BA, International Studies • Matthew Gandor, BS, Food Business Management • Alden Gardiner, BA, Sociology • Victoria Guillen, BS, Zoology • Marena Hernandez, BS, Early Childhood Education

• Jessica Jackson, BS, Electrical and Computer Engineering • Steven Janes, BS, Electrical and Computer Engineering • Christopher Johnson, BA, Communication • Cristina Lopez, BS, Logistics Management • Kevin Lopez-Garrity, BS, Electrical and Computer Engineering • Azafirah Maldonado, BA, Psychology • Anthony Marino, BS, Information Systems • Reece Martinez, BS, Mechanical Engineering • Angela Medina, BA, Biology • Pedro Mejia, BA, Political Science • Lia Mejia, BS, Neuroscience • Trevor Mendes, BA, Economics • Carlos Mendez, BS, Biomedical Engineering • Marisa Murphy, BS, Environment, Economy, Development, and Sustainability

• Karla Neninger, BA, Political Science • Tomas Ortiz, BA, Communication • Nadav Pecha, BA, Public Affairs • Zachary Perez, BA, Communication • Alexander Perez, BS, Sport Industry • Roberto Pomales Albino, BA, English • Erin Ramirez, BS, Psychology • Christopher Rock, BS, Economics—Business • Sarah Rodriguez, BA, Psychology • Erika Rodriguez, BS, Public Health • Ellie Rogers, BA, Theatre • Oscar Rubio, BS, Computer Science and Engineering • Abdulmuti Saleh, BS, Biology • Adrienne Santos, BA, Communication • Juan Schwartzman, BA, Psychology • Aaron Schwarz, BS, Fashion and Retail Studies

• Vanessa Serrano, BS, Industrial and Systems Engineering • Joshua Stemen, BA, Air Transportation • Michael Stillwagon, BA, Philosophy • Jordan Tank, BA, Communication • Tanner Thompson, BA, Economics • Julia Toro, BS, Marketing • Amanda Tovar, BA, Psychology • Samantha Vasquez, BA, English • Annica Veljanovski, BS, Psychology • Katherine Verde, BA, Criminology and Criminal Justice • Daniela Villa-Cruz, BS, Early Childhood Education • Carlos Waibl, BS, Computer Science and Engineering • Rebecca Watkins, BS, Hospitality Management • Savannah Weatherington, BA, Psychology

• Tiko Nelson, BA, Communication

• Kristyn Seda, BA, English

• Connor Wiegand, BS, Chemical Engineering

• Diana Ampudia Sjogreen, MS, Environment and Natural Resources

• Renan Frota Carvalho, MS, Electrical and Computer Engineering

• Paulo Montero Camacho, MS, Physics

• Evelyn Rodriguez, MA, Master of Mathematical Sciences

• Elias Assaf, MA, Political Science

• Kevin Galiano, MS, Physics

• Amanda Montoya, MS, Psychology

• Kimberly Tapia-Grullon, MBOE, Master of Business Operational Excellence

Master’s Degrees

• Bryan Castro, MBOE, Master of Business Operational Excellence • Rodrigo Colin, MBA, Part-Time Master of Business Administration • Elka Del Portal, MS, Food Science and Technology

• Jaqueline Huzar Novakowiski, MS, Plant Pathology • Mary McKay, MA, City and Regional Planning • Michelle Miranda, MS, Kinesiology

• Krystel Navarro-Acevedo, MS, Plant Pathology • Julio Neira Gutierrez, MS, Geodetic Science • Graciela Penso, MS, Welding Engineering • Luis Reyes, MBOE, Master of Business Operational Excellence

• Thomas Todaro, MS, Horticulture and Crop Science • Jeolmaly Velazquez-Sanchez, MA, Applied Clinical and Preclinical Research • Christina Zerda, MS, Earth Sciences

Doctoral Degrees • Cindy Barrera Martinez, PHD, Food, Agricultural & Biological Engineering • Jasmin Carmona, PHD, Human Development and Family Science

• Marina Duque, PHD, Political Science • Dixie Hu, PHD, Psychology

• Alaina Martinez, PHD, Biomedical Sciences Graduate Program

• Joseph McEwen,

• Victoria Munoz, PHD, English • Veronica Pecero, PHD, Educational Studies

PHD, Physics

Professional Degrees • Natalie Salazar, JD, Law Spring ’17

29

OFFICE OF DIVERSITY AND INCLUSION ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State?

The Ohio State University Hale Hall, Suite 200 154 West 12th Avenue Columbus, OH 43210-1132

NONPROFIT ORG. U.S. POSTAGE

PAID

COLUMBUS, OHIO PERMIT NO. 711

¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State? welcomes submissions at any time. Contact us at quepasa@osu.edu. facebook.com/QuePasaOSU @QuePasa_OSU

Left: Walled City, Cartagena, Colombia. Right: Old Havana, Cuba. Photos courtesy of Laura León Jordan, MFA Graduate, Department of Design.