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Tag Archives: Chingona

I Can See Your Shattered Ego

Those with the smallest minds have the biggest mouths.

I can see your shattered ego all the way in Colorado.

You can be as angry as you please over a depiction of you that occurred at Malintzine’s event a few months ago. You can call it man-hating. You can call it sexism. You can call it gender violence. You can criticize the Tucson Weekly for being racist, but the embarrassment you feel over people applauding everyone’s favorite Xingona mama kicking your ass is nothing compared to the embarrassment we feel every time you write a new article.

The annoyance you feel every time someone calls you out on Facebook for your discrepancies, your lack of ethics, and most importantly, your protection of a known woman-beater is nothing compared to the irritation that rushes through our veins when you try to proclaim yourself as a progressive. You continue to cry wolf, and play victim. You spotlight articles that are targeted at you, or men you follow like a lost puppy, and use that as evidence of hate. You target articles that promote Malintzine and proceed to give your two cents about why it is sloppy journalism. For someone without a degree in communications, you sure seem to think you know a lot about what makes a good reporter.

The ecstatic happiness you get from comparing Malintzine and their supporters to Jan Brewer, Joe Arpaio, and John Pedicone is nothing compared to the joy we feel when we see your fan base shrinking as we provide the stories you have refused to tell. You know nothing of the bliss when we see the emails pouring into Malintzine talking about men exactly like you and the abuse they suffered at those assholes’ hands.  You are unaware of what its like to know you’ve given people a voice, because you continue to perpetrate one agenda.

It’s takes a long time for a woman to realize it’s okay to be a Chingona, but now that I have, I won’t be going anywhere. I like the sight of a man pissing himself because of the power I now possess. It doesn’t matter that you don’t agree. Your thoughts are trivial when there are so many more people calling for Malintzine than there are calling for you.

 
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Posted by on May 1, 2013 in Her stories, Tucson movement

 

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Pleasure Is Measured In Presence

The bed and it’s room
is no place for the computer to cast it’s shadow over your eyes
My thighs and universe in between
no place for carelessness, half truth, and lies
Pleasure is measured in presence
A place of vulnerable posture held by caress
moved further to openness
I let you in deeper
through fear
The stars of my inner night guide you
The story of these constellations
Passing expressions
remain in memory long after the taste of your sweat has left my lips
Alone now
No light in the bed or it’s room
Inside myself
Closed eyes
Thighs wide
Tongue traces the lips it protrudes from
The taste of my sweat
Pleasure is measured in presence
Oneness the O in Ohhmm
The mmm in orgasm
I leave myself breathless
And rest in peace
 
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Posted by on April 19, 2013 in Her stories

 

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Anonymous is a Woman

Why do (some) people keep complaining that those of us writing original work for this blog are choosing to remain anonymous? Why are you so uncomfortable? Is it a problem because we don’t need credit for our words? Are you disturbed because our egos don’t need stroking with pats on the back and high-fives? Does it bother you to not have a specific target to aim at when you disagree? Are you afraid that it’s your sister, your girlfriend, your mother who’s writing — and you don’t know?

We speak collectively because of our politics. We do not claim authorship for each individual piece because our experiences are shared by many women. We are creating safety for ourselves and our sisters by speaking our truth. We are unnamed because we are everywhere. You should assume that every single piece that has been published so far was written by a different woman. That’s a lot of voices rising in unity!

The other day, I heard someone call this “K’s blog.” Well, it’s not K’s blog, or A’s blog, or B’s blog. Dozens of women — an entire alphabet of mujeres — have already contributed, and a collective is staffing the submissions email addy, the Twitter feed, the FB page, and the Tumblr. This is not the work of one woman, no matter how awesome she may be. This is the work of many, and we are moving like wildfire, burning away patriarchal debris and illuminating a woman-centered landscape.

Just so you know — I’m not a member of the editorial collective, and my view on why anonymity is important may resonate with them, but it may not. You don’t know who I am, your assumptions are probably wrong, and you don’t have any say about what is going on here. You can’t bully us, and you can’t beat us. But you should definitely listen to us.

 
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Posted by on January 29, 2013 in Her stories

 

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Chicana Anger

People might not understand my anger, my rage. They see a white girl with vaguely dark features….she could be Hispanic or Greek. Well motherfuckers, I am both Chicana and Greek! And a mescla of some bastardized white bastard. The color of my skin doesn’t do me justice. I’ve assimilated into two cultures I was born into; I am a mutt, a mulatta. But to my gente, I am someone to look at cautiously, even when I’ve been vouched for. Then they realize I’m as dark as they, but still translate things to me. ¡Comprendo putos! Are you not listening to my Southside accent and vernacular? To his people, honky, liberally spoon-fed NAFTA corn by conservatives, I am the result of breeding with Mexicans. I am a defiant, loud, gender-smashing, animal loving stranger. A stranger. Una Malinche…eerr Maryanne.
 
I am angry because everyone paternalistically lied to me: teachers, police officers, my aunts and uncles, mis abuelos, my parents, my church, my government, my society, myself. I internalized, as we all internalize, values, morals, and beliefs set to be the status quo, docility reigns. I did what they told me to do and went to college. I wasn’t angry, I was scared. I did look like, act like, know like most of my “peers.” I spent $100 on a new phone so not to be so embarrassed by the Nokia Brick circa 2002. I hated myself. Ms. Powers told me my vanity is not vain. The contradictions should not freeze me—we all have them. Dismantle from within. Lie to those motherfuckers like they lied to you. Put on your smile, get the power, then dismantle. The Brooklyn Bridge and my best bud are my last memories of that Power. If she jumped off, the ripple of her powerful body hitting the cement water finally reached me. I am a warrior now too.
 
I am an angry Chicana Warrior. I know this now. The veil is gone.
I see the world how I see the world and not how I was told to see the world.
You do not see the world as I see the world. And that’s fine.
I will lift your veil if you want. I will expose the violences and you will hate me for it. And that’s fine.
And you will ache, cry, scream, laugh, and want to die without your veil, but your body, mind, and soul will not be docile.
Then you are free.
 
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Posted by on January 23, 2013 in Her stories

 

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Bigger Things

I hope you’re one of the lucky ones who left untouched,
But I know you don’t get to be that strong without trauma.
I know.
We knew of each other.
We knew each other before we met.
I met you today and I know your history, our background.
I know your weaknesses, your triumphs, your fears, your life.
And you know mine.
Our visions intersect and today our lives did too (finally).
We have each other.
To confide in.
To revolutionize with.
To bitch at.
To understand.
Holy fuck Chicana mamas, you are raining them down to me like acid rain.
I feel the burn of the polluted water, but I like it.
I swim in the pain with her.
And it feels so good.
We will swim, swim, and swim some more.
Over bowls.
Over coffee.
Over the desert.
Over our home.
And bigger things will come because our lives are now one.

 
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Posted by on January 21, 2013 in Her stories

 

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“The way I see things, everyone is entitled to their opinion…”

You say “enlightened mujeres” as if that’s a bad thing? And as if that is new…You call out the medium we use to tell our stories yet it is the same medium you use…

You say don’t be outraged if you respond to our “attacks” so in that case don’t be outraged by our response to the vilification of our voices by you.

You are asking us to ignore experiences we’ve had because they involved “brown men” and our stories do not “support MAS”. You are asking us to do the same thing you claim to be against—the silencing of stories. The silencing of herstories/ histories (or are you just against silencing the latter?). Box that shit up because it might make people angry/hurt/ feel oppressed… it’s racist (because against brown men). Who the fuck does that sound like?!

Open your eyes and heart! You’re right about one thing. This is NOT ABOUT YOU or even Sean. This is not personal so please STOP MAKING THIS ABOUT YOU! You are not my savior, nor is Sean. Your stories do not encompass me, save me, or support me.

I realize that I can turn away, not read but the shit you are spouting is public and many around the country take it as truth and OUR story! Many, as I have, know you as someone who “fights for MAS” and wouldn’t do something to hurt our community so your voice must come correct…. But I’m telling you now, that shit is wrong and hurtful. Your shit is fucked up. And NO it is NOT just “las mujeres” (the women who are brave enough to tell their stories even under your heavy vilification…) saying this! There is a reason why not many folks are liking your shit spouting right now…The fact that folks like ‘El Machete Lopez’ can come on a thread of yours supporting your opinion and spout hate speech like ‘lesbians are man haters and can smell testosterone’ and get away w/ that shit w/you is sickening and shows how blind you are to other injustices. You can use us when needed… when it makes MAS look good ‘This is my white friend, my queer friend, my black friend, my woman friend…’ See I don’t hate so and so…I support all people—makes me sad.

I can go on and on but sadly I don’t think you will get it…but I hope you do. At one point at a meeting you apologized for being “divisive’ with the community. YOU ARE DOING IT NOW. PLEASE STOP! Please go read, discuss, examine with an open mind and heart. Go outside those you know who support this rhetoric you are spewing (especially if people who support you are like El Machete…). I write this not asking for a response but for you to take some time to actually examine why you feel the need to write. Is it really to support the community? The whole community? Or to protect your “brown brothers” and which ones? THINK and STOP please until you figure this out….Who really has lost focus? And how can we focus if we are not only being silenced by Pedicone, Horne, and Huppenthal, but by our own community?

 
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Posted by on January 21, 2013 in Her stories, Tucson movement

 

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Response to Sean’s Letter: we call bullshit

This letter is merely an empty letter, a clear public relations statement so that, god forbid, you don’t actually look guilty of doing something wrong.  If you really believe in what you said and that this is sufficient, you clearly still do not get it. Your words are that of an entitled man that minimizes your actions. This is a clear statement of denial.

“no one has the right to engage in any conduct that is or has the appearance of domestic violence.”

This is absolutely disrespectful and is in fact domestic violence.

Oh and by the way…….
We will be critical of your work as an educator, “leader” or  ”mentor”. As you might recall a book called “Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Freire speaks of praxis and defines it as “reflection and action upon the world in order to transform it.” Through praxis, oppressed people can acquire a critical awareness of their own condition, and, with their allies, struggle for liberation.

In your role you have young men looking to you to teach them how to not only be powerful students in their schools and in their community but they also look to you to show them how to love, respect and support their mothers, sisters, daughters, partners and friends. They were looking to you to model for them how to be healthy men of color. They are still looking to you. What will you do? Praxis.

This is not personal, you just happened to make yourself an example. We actually write this for the 2 womyn who were killed at the hands of their ex husbands  in Tucson in the last 2 weeks and for the womyn in Delhi who was gang raped and beaten to death and although you may not see any kind of connection between yourself and these womyn, you need to. You need to see your behavior as a contribution to the maltreatment of womyn.

The letter you wrote is not good enough. If you care to truly engage in your personal struggle and evolution, you will not refer to your actions as merely “charges” but in fact state what you did and how you think it has impacted your family, friends and community.

You will include conversations of race, class and gender in your work.

You will begin to examine where you fall on the continuum of abuse.

You will begin to be aware of how you show up to your sisters in the struggle and give a shit about it.

Acknowledging yourself as macho will no longer cut it. You have a choice, now how you are going to put your reflection into action? People are watching you; many are hoping that you come through.

Accountability is hard and not for everyone.  So what will it be?

 
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Posted by on December 30, 2012 in Tucson movement

 

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