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What is XIC@ ??? X I C @ is an intersectional community of awareness and awesomeness. This ZINE is our physical platform which serves to disrupt the current discourse by sharing our stories. We are demented, different, and hope to disturb the binary one creation at a time.
CONTRIBUTOR LIST &
TABLE OF CONTENTS Front Cover) “Xaria the Machismo Slayer” - Lizmarie P
P. 1) Hey/Hola/Hi – “Two Headed Chick” – Chrissy Puga p. 2) “Purpose” - Huesitos Ciegos P. 3 - 4) “Soiled People” - Heather Hall P. 5) Doodles - Ari /Clau P. 6) “The Woman I am” - Marelly C./Image Lizmarie P P. 7) “L.A. Playlist” - Rosie Howe P. 8) “Untitled” - axlyssa P. 9) “Faggot” - Geovani G P. 10) “Techno Gypsy” - Chrissy Puga P. 11) “Give Care For Each Moment” & “Who Do You Want To Be” - Carissa Marconet P. 12) “Soy Latin@” - Lizmarie P P. 13) “Estas Ahi” - Ari P. 14) “Worry Mother” - Geovani G Back Cover) “Virgencita” - Kassie Esparza *ANY IMAGES USED, UNLESS CREDITED, ARE NOT OUR PROPERTY. DO NOT REPRODUCE ANY OF THE IMAGES OR MATERIALS FOUND HERE WITHOUT DIRECT CONSENT OF THE OWNER*
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You were the promise I could never keep when I swore that I would never be like my mother. My greatest disappointment and my favorite mistake. Through you I learned to love myself. Finding my way back from white powder hills and liquid courage, from breathing lies with nothing but my flesh. The world around me caved in. I found solace and addiction in your cruelties and my misery. Forlorn for years with no way out, no way up. I found my strength. My angels worked over time and built me up atom by atom and today, I am not the same woman. Today I do not need you. I need myself. My strength. The family I live, breathe, and fight for. Today I do not need you. I never needed you. I only needed to see myself for the woman I was. The woman I am. The woman I will one day be
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I’M ANGRY. I’M ANGRY AT THEIR PRIVILEGE, ESPECIALLY SINCE I KNOW NOTHING OF THE MEANING. HOW COULD I? IT ANGERS ME THAT THE WORLD CARES MORE ABOUT A WHITE WOMAN LOOKING FOR HER DEAD MOTHER'S WEDDING GOWN THAN AN UNWED BLACK MOTHER LOOKING FOR HER DEAD CHILD. IT INFURIATES ME TO BE TOLD I SPEAK “WHITE.” I SPEAK BETTER THAN THAT. I WASN’T A PRODUCT OF THE HOOD, I DIDN’T LIVE IN POVERTY, AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT MAKES ME ANY LESS BLACK THAN THOSE TRAP STARS THAT CAUCASIANS TRY TO EMULATE. I KNEW WHO MY DADDY WAS, AND NO MY MOTHER WAS NOT ON DRUGS. I WAS RAISED TO CELEBRATE AND ACCEPT DIVERSITY, TO BE EDUCATED, STRONG AND INSIGHTFUL. I REFUSE TO PICK AWAY AT MY MORALS BECAUSE IT’S NOT WHAT YOU’RE ACCUSTOMED TO. I AM THE BLACK WOMAN TO FEAR; A BLACK WOMAN WHO SPEAKS ELOQUENTLY AND CLEAR. MAKE NO MISTAKES THAT THIS SWEET VOICE THROWS DAGGERS AND MAKE EVEN FEWER MISTAKES THAT THOSE DAGGERS WON’T BE EASILY EXTRACTED. DON’T INSULT ME WITH WHITEWASH STEREOTYPES BECAUSE OF MY SURPRISINGLY BEAUTIFUL DIALECT. I’M NOT HERE TO COMFORT YOU. BE AS UNCOMFORTED BY MY WORDS AND SPEECH AS I AM WHEN I WALK INTO A BRIGHT, WHITE OFFICE SPACE AS THE ONLY DARK FACE. I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR MY DARK SKIN, MY WIDE SET NOSE, OR MY CROWN OF CURLS AND COILS. NO YOU MAY NOT TOUCH MY HAIR. YOU MAY HAVE DRUG MY FOREFATHERS FROM THEIR THRONE AND MATTED THEIR CROWNS, 9 I SAY THAT WE BUT UNDERSTAND ME WHEN RISE. MY EXPERIENCES, MY HERITAGE, DON’T EVEN DETERMINE WHO I AM, SO WHY SHOULD YOU?
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