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El Grito de Nuestros Dolores, Nuestro Grito de Independencia

¡Muxeres Poderosas! No existe ya para nosotras ni reyes, ni amos. Esta carga vergonzosa, que se llama el patriarcado, la hemos cargado por más de 500 años como signo del colonialismo. Esta es una terrible mancha que sabemos que debemos lavar con nuestros esfuerzos. Llegó el momento de nuestra emancipación; ha sonado la hora de nuestra libertad; y si conoces el gran valor de la libertad, nos ayudarás a defenderla. En poco tiempo nos veran gritando nuestras verdades sobre los que se enorgullecen de ser libres; esos que levantan su puños en las calles en contra del poder y el…

Army of We

mi hermana, my sister  the first time I met you i was struck by the lightning in your eyes it flows through you and Electrifies the world en tus ojos I also see the pain you carry generations of trauma which con fuerza you have learned to flip on its head cus you got that feminine strength to squeeze power from pain and spread it to la familia, el pueblo even when you’re worn down still that energy smoulders behind eyes that see past this violent, greedy world where ego rules and where no matter how “ugly” or “pretty” how…

Come on Bro, is our turn.

“In the struggle to give voice to our experiences, working class -people of color encounter multiple mechanisms to silence us. More particularly, we encounter silencing when our voices speak of resistance to injustice- both against ourselves and our peoples. And yet, colonization is the historical legacy that continues to haunt us, even today. The ability to effectively promote justice requires vigilance so that we may immunize ourselves against the paralysis that comes from being silenced.” Teresa Cordova. We have been silenced. Yeah I am kind of aggressive. I have notice that my aggressiveness comes out of the history of women…

Escribir

Escribir Es para vaciar mi corazón Escribir es como aprendí a vivir sin ti Por que me acostumbre a no sentir a escribir lo que sentía dentro de mí para ya no sentirte a ti Y resultó que aprendí a vivir sin ti Me gusto. 

Damned Ignorance

They peddle the documentary DVDs like political leaflets, presenting them proudly as they solicit support and monetary contributions for the cause. They are vending a symbol of gender subjugation; a film that is stained with allegations of sexual assault; assertions that were muffled; claims that were minimized; and cries that were choked in the name of the cause. They have contaminated the cause and have even attempted to hijack it. Damned Ignorance! Does the end justify the means? No, not here! The cause. We were all clear about our cause. It was wrapped around keeping our precious Mexican American Studies…

We Will Not Be Sacrificial Lambs, No More

I will always tell her, “Look deep inside yourself.” It is still in you- that light, that fire. Something which you once felt burned out and you would never be able to find again. Feeling you’ll always carry that banner over your head of what has happened to you. I will never let anyone blame your drinking for the cause of this. What a man did, with his actions, his decisions, and his intentions. You were there to celebrate and spread love. He was there to own for the night, a pretty little trinket to claim all his own, behind…

TO THE STRAIGHT GIRLS AT OUR BAR: A LETTER FROM THE GAYS (PLEASE STOP SHRIEKING)

“we LOVE the gays!” this isn’t even what it’s about. the point is we’re so lonely we’ve taken to fucking and falling in love with drug dealers or no one or other peoples’ husbands, taken to single lifestyles and breakups and independence, to drinking and to pretty words and to humoring people like you as if these are our callings, as if love is not the one thing we want for and hurt, quiet and heavy and hard— as if love is not the one thing forgotten here. the point is our homes were the graves of the feelings we…

Mi Niño Llora

 Cuando el niño llora, las mamas arrancan Su madre, su tia, su prima su abuela Todas corren hacia el Casi no llora pero cuando pega el llanto ahi estan Llora por juguetes Quiere una mamila no haya su chupon Es un niño hermoso   Ahora el niño llora pero no se ve Agarra lo que encuentra y pega el brinco Las mamas lo corren no saben ya que hacer Su madre, su tia, su prima, su abuela Quisieran entender Llora por su droga Quiere su familia No alla la salida Es mi niño hermoso   Dime mi niño que es…