[fuckkyeahtheoffice]

[twilightfansofcolor]

hi, my family is going through a hard time right now, and now that my grandma is staying for a (long) while, we’re having just a bit of trouble keeping up with bills. i’m doing commissions if anyone would want to help. 

here’s my paypal in case.

hcs $5 and fully written works are $10

[1st-1]

[itszonez]

Willow Smith for W Magazine (2021); photographed by Lea Winkler

[drachenengel]

[spiritofthemeadow]

frog & water lilies

ig

[chambersonnetflix]

cottonwood energy

[chandelyer-deactivated20241003]

Chantal Thomass fw94 p.2

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

Before night falls midterm

“Before Night Falls” was written by Reinaldo Arenas and is the story of his childhood, his sexuality, his successes and his persecution. Essentially it tells the story of his life living and growing up in Cuba, during Fidel Castro’s dictatorship starting from 1959 to 1980’s, when Arenas fled the country. Arenas writes in a very casual tone of his and everyone else’s struggle under the dictatorship, he makes the writing personal and in a first person friendly tone. When I read the story I felt like he was speaking to me personally, and although there were some academic words he made his writing very easy to understand and I was easily able to sympathize with him. 

Although I thought this to be strange, Arenas speaks of his disturbing childhood in such a way that makes one realize the realities of life and the realities of some people’s childhood, but still he has optimism. When I read the first chapters I was concerned about his safety and well being but Arenas depicted a happy childhood and free childhood among nature that set the stage for the themes I would later on encounter in the rest of the reading.

I think the natural elements play a big part in Arenas’ story, often helping him cope with the world he was born into. Early and later in his life and in the book the natural elements are present and prominent and sometimes even the cause of his self actualization. Growing up in a world of poverty, loneliness, trauma, violence and hopelessness, nature is often his saving grace.

Some of those themes can be described as being about life, death, resilience and survival. One of the many instances of such is early on in childhood when he encounters apparitions in the forest. I thought it was so interesting that at such a young age he was even able to question whether the man he saw symbolized life or death. Most kids that age don’t really know about death but he would know, since at that young age he had already had many close encounters with death. One such moment is his contraction of meningitis, he's even said “Death has always been very close to me, it has always been my loyal companion. Sometimes I am sorry that I’ll die, only because then death will perhaps abandon me.” I think this theme ends up following him around later on in life as he flirts with death in his attempts to flee Cuba. 

One of the main aspects I noticed about Aneras’ writing is that in his tone we see the conflict he has within himself about Cuba, although he despises the government and the corrupt people, we can see his sadness surrounding the place that he loves and we can also see his understanding of the people who eventually broke and informed on him. He says “These things happen because under a sinister political system a lot of people turn sinister as well.” It makes sense that although he was angry that Arenas would understand those people, because in an article titled “Counting Castro’s Victim” published in the WSJ in 2005 comes this quote, "On May 27, [1966,] 166 Cubans -- civilians and members of the military -- were executed and submitted to medical procedures of blood extraction of an average of seven pints per person.” This quote just highlights that the living conditions were horrible for everyone and if one did not die at the hands of that dictatorship they would grow cold and become a part of it, to then inflict pain on others.

The order in which Arenas writes the chapters of his book foreshadows the story told in the rest of the book. I noticed that after the “The Sea” chapter comes the “Politics” chapter and I found that to be interesting because in that chapter when he wrote about the sea it was the last time the country saw political freedom, then in later chapters he tries to escape through the sea because of the politics of the country, this quote highlights one of the first times he tries to escape by sea “On the high seas I had no way of opening the bottle, and my legs and joints were almost frozen.” He describes here the physicality's of trying to escape, the conditions of Cuba and this trip were so difficult for him that when he didn’t succeed he tried to commit suicide instead.

The entirety of this book explains the relationship of dissidence, literature and homosexuality. In this book these topics interrelate because one of the ways a dictatorship tries to silence and control is through banning books, books tend to educate people on different topics and it can create individuality, in 1964 Castro started controlling the Library Nacional for that exact reason. “Any book that could be deemed to be “ideological diversionism” disappeared immediately. Of course, any book dealing in any way with sexual deviation also vanished.” This book is the exact example of what Castro would try to ban because Arenas is being defiant in writing about his sexuality. People can empathize with Arenas because of his truth that he writes in the book, literature tells the truth and that creates nonconformists and that is not what a dictatorship wants. In this book from seeing how normal a gay person is and from reading about the trials and tribulations they had to endure because of their identity, it leads others to sympathize and not see gay people as subhuman, which is something that Castro’s dictatorship also did not want. This is somewhat different to Raul Castro’s dictatorship as his daughter, Mariela Castro Espin, has shown some kind of support for gay marriage in this article, from 2012, titled “Hiding Cuba’s crimes behind gay rights lies.”

https://www.nydailynews.com/opinion/hiding-cuba-crimes-behind-gay-rights-lies-article-1.1098015

https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB113590852154334404

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

More comments

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

Comments on classmates posts

[mh-morehugs-deactivated20230409]

Journal 2: Music Embedded In Me

one 

La Gozadera, by Gente de Zona, is a song that mentions all the Latino cultures. We can see this prideful Latino culture. 

This class helps me reconnect with my Latino culture. Above you can see an old song from 2015. I was 14 at the time when this song came out. I found out about this song while I was in high school. During this time I learned to understand that is is okay to be proud of my Latino culture. Now when I walk down the streets of the Sunset park area, I hear the music that I love the most and will never change: Reggaetón. This will be one of the few music genres I will not change. Reggaetón is a very popular music genre in the Latino culture. 

Reggaetón is not just music. There are many songs contain many symbolic signs that fight against specific issues. 

Watch with subtitles

Bad Bunny is one of my favorite Reggaetón singers that demonstrates the way music can be powerful. In his song Yo Perreo Sola, the phrase “Yo perreo sola” translates to “I twerk alone.” This phrase alone fights against the sexual harassments many women face in our society. The concept behind this song is to demonstrate that women are independent and that men should learn to respect women. In the video we can also see the phrase “Ni Una Menos.” This is a movement that fights against the murder of transwomen and women in Latino America. Women face femicide in Latino America. Our Latino music is meant to symbolize strength and used to fight against hate. In the end of the music video is states in bold letters “Si no quiere bailar contigo, Respeta, Ella perrea sola.” This statement translates to “if she does not want to dance with you, respect, she twerks alone.” This is meant to emphasis that men should respect a women if she is not interested in you.

A few days ago I was talking to a cousin of mine who listen to different genres of music. I played a song from bad bunny and he automatically knew and enjoyed the music the same way I did. To me this showed that many Latinos can understand each other through our Latino music. This does not have just be Reggaetón. Latino music can be salsa, bachata, cumbia, merengue, and more.

I tried showing a friend of mine, who is a foreigner of Latino music, a song from cumbia. Cumbia often sounds similar to each other and this can make it difficult for foreigners to distinguish them. Their response was that “The two songs sound no different to me.” This statement made me chuckle because I felt proud that I was able to distinguish the sounds between the two songs. I felt more proud that a friend of mine was listening to them and enjoying it.

Latino music is diversely beautiful and i am proud to have this unique type of music embedded in me. To me all Latino music symbolizes strength and community. The strength come from those songs that have played a role in society to fight against hate. The community comes the ability to make people come together. I am proud to have this music embedded in my culture, in my history, and in me and my soul. 

[adnan201]

I enjoyed reading about how latin music affects you and what it means to you. I am part Cuban so whenever I hear Latin music I also get proud to hear music from that region. I also enjoyed reading about what it symbolizes and what it means. 

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

Interesting that you said that all the Latino cultures were mentioned in the first song. I’m Haitian and Haiti is considered a part of Latin America but we weren’t mentioned, this topic is one that I cover in my journal of my Latinx experience, of being left out of the Latinx conversation. It’s crazy the impact music can have, I don’t speak Spanish but I heard “Yo perreo sola” once and I became obsessed this is the first time I’m learning of the meaning of the phrase. I like that the song isn’t a boring song, I love that women can dance to and have fun to this song and still be able to ask for respect. 

[jimenezanaa]

Home 🇩🇴

I was born in Santiago de los caballeros, Dominican Republic (DR) . I grew up very close to my family, especially the ones from my mother’s side. My father's side of the family already lived in New York City, there were only a few of his family left back at home. My father grew up very poor. He had to sell things with his mother and other brothers. My mom grew up in the countryside of Santiago. She also grew up poor but her family migrated to the city after she was around 14 years old. My mom told me how other kids used to make fun of her and her siblings from being from the countryside. I had a pretty good childhood playing in the streets with friends from my neighborhood. I used to play all day outside after school, my neighbors used to send me to buy them stuff to the colmados which is what everyone calls a bodega here. This was one of my favorite things to do as kids because they used to give me money which I used to spend buying candy. I was not poor but It was not rich. My family always had help from my grandmother who lived outside of the country.

I always knew that I was going to eventually leave DR to live in New York City. I love the freedom I had back home as a kid but I knew that I had to leave to have a better future because everyone who left was doing better. My paternal grandfather had submitted an application to get my dad a visa, my brothers and I were also in this application. After all the years that it took the application to be processed which was like eight year or more, we had to go through another process in order for them to determine if they were giving us the visa.

I remember getting the news that our application had been processed, my family was very happy. I remember having to go to the capital, waking up at 2 A.M. to go to a clinic that gave me 11 shots of some vaccines. I can't remember the names they also examine me. My two brothers and my dad did not get as many vaccines maybe because they were older. This is kind of like what they used to do to the people that came from Cuba which were checked to make sure they were not sick. Everyone that comes from DR goes through this, I am not sure about other countries. But I remember that I used to wonder why I needed all of this to come to this country? New York City in the eyes of Dominicans was like heaven, everyone used to talk about it so much and everyone who used to visit from here was expected to have money. That is what everyone in DR thought, everyone in New York City has money. But when I moved here and saw how everything was I stopped thinking like everyone else because I saw how much people struggle here. Especially the people who do not know the language. This country is my second home where I have every opportunity I do not have back home. But DR would always be something different, life in New York City is too fast, everyone is so stressed out all the time. Back home everyone is chill, always having fun even when things are hard and people are struggling

[adnan201]

This is a very inspiring story and your family sounds like they are truly amazing and hard working people. I personally visited DR and it is one of the most beautiful countries I've ever been to with the most funny and cool people. 

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

you just brought me back to my upbringing in Haiti where neighbors would also send us on errands, that is so different from here. Life is so impersonal here I don’t even see my neighbors let alone could I send them for something if I needed extra help. I think the statement I was not poor but it wasn’t rich was really powerful because living on an island sometimes the smallest things would bring us such joy. It is so true that people back home think we have it so easy here, but it’s a whole new different struggle than back home.

[jongomez98]

Migration of Latin American’s and the Impact of Leaving a Country

       I want to talk about the concept that was a main focus in one of our classroom discussions, it was the migration of Central American groups all traveling northward in a caravan. For another class that I had, we saw a movie about this same migration route. It traced the autopsy of a migrant who got lost along the trail. Unfortunately the reality is that many don’t survive the journey past the border. The conditions of this caravan are very poor and many starve or die from disease before they can even reach the border. Even the strong and healthy find the treacherous journey to be too much and oftentimes turn back. This guilt and pain of not being able to provide for their families who desperately need aid is awful, and is the driving force behind this mass migration. Although they face many dangers they do it for the next generation in order to provide opportunities that they may have never been able to do in their native countries.

       As a Hispanic person myself it is heartbreaking that people who want a chance at a better life have to face such a hurdle in order to survive. As a second generation child, I don’t know how life would’ve turned out had my Grandparents didn’t come to the US. I empathize a lot with the movie, especially with how it portrays how people are fueled by their families and loved ones in order to make a better life for them. The film was called “Who is Dayani Cristal?” It’s an enjoyable watch and it was filmed pretty recently. The relation of this movie to the course is that it exemplifies how Latin Americans struggle to find opportunities in their native country and are willing to sacrifice for the people they love. Watching the documentary leads to a newfound appreciation of the sacrifice from previous generations, as it has only become increasingly more difficult to migrate to the US. 

     The following image is about a group that is followed through the film and the journey that the caravan has to do in order to help people migrate northwards. In this instance the group is taking a stray train that is notorious for hitchhiking along the path to the caravan, they stay on the train for a day and half and it is merely only the beginning of a long journey north. Throughout the film we follow their journey and the dangers that migrants face as they approach the border. Even after they reach the US border they have to cross the Arizona desert, which after this long journey is where the highest fatalities occur. It is quite a tragedy that there are no safe ways to process immigrants and allow them safe passage onto US soil. This nation was built on migrant workers, and the whole premise of the US when it was founded was to be a safe place of equal opportunity no matter what race or creed for the oppressed.

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

They shouldn’t have to be but those young people who cross those borders are beyond brave. I like that you talked about and shed light on the fact that sometimes not everyone makes it, it’s such a sad truth. As an immigrant myself I too think about the sacrifices that my family made in order to come here, and I hate to think about what would have been if they hadn’t made those sacrifices. I agree with your last statement whole heartedly, everyone on these “Americas” except for the indigenous are migrants to the place so why create these boarders? To gate keep opportunities?

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

Musique Musique- Put this on your playlist

I Used to listen to a lot of Merengue, Salsa, Bouyon, Soca, Punta, and Bachata and I listened to Konpa but I didn’t listen to it as much because it wasn’t popular and it wasn’t as normalized as the Hispanic music I listened to. I often questioned how some people could have so much pride in their music, I felt like I would listen to more Haitian music if more people listened to it. As I started to listen to more and more Konpa to do my homework this semester and last semester I started to realize just how good the music was and is and I realized I didn’t need more people to listen to it for me to listen to it more. This semester I actually, in order to fight for my mental health, I started a little series on my Instagram, where I just listen to music and dance because I realized how happy the music made me.

Songs I listen to as an Afro-Latinx in New York City:

Tabou Combo- New York City

Pa manyen Fanm nan- Sweet Micky

Mon Colonel- Sweet Micky

Lanmou Doudou- Jakito

Je Vais- Troubadours

Kiyes ou ye- J perry

Vire Toupi a- T vice

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

Mi casa es su casa

The neighbor's hibiscus tree is growing over my fence. 

When you leave your country to go to another country it is a bittersweet moment, the new opportunities, new sites, new people, and cultures are exciting. However, you miss your home, your friends, your culture and the things that you used to do and the things that you were used to. The Latinx experience, especially the immigrant experience, can be at times brutal, with hatred and propaganda coming from political figures, the feeling of being alone from all you know and culture clashes. We often even have to ask ourselves why we migrated in the first place, and took to great lengths to do so as well, crossing oceans, in tiny boats, crossing borders and barriers both physical and metaphorical? 

Why did our parents pack their lives in bags that weren’t nearly big enough to hold all they had to carry? Why they complain at every waking moment, of the differences between this place and their home country? We have to remember it was simply so we could have a better life, better opportunities and so that we would not have to do what they had to do.

Even through all this turmoil anywhere that you migrant I believe it is best to be a migrant, especially a Latinx migrant, in New York City.

The Latinx experience in other states just does not compare to that of this city, I’ve been to and stayed in Virginia and Pennsylvania and the environment wasn't the same and I learned the true beauty of the home away from home as I can be transported to any part of the Caribbean even as I roam just a few blocks from my apartment.

The neighbor's hibiscus tree grows over my fence.

I don’t mind. I like looking at the pretty petals, they remind me of home.

There are no borders of culture in New York City. Of course I’ve established our differences earlier, but we are all the same really. 

Cut from such similar cloth.

All a boat stop and a colonizer of a difference.

Outside the Haitian, Puerto Rican and Dominican men play dominoes.

At 3am the Merengue is playing, a car passes by blasting Reggaeton, Dembow, another plays Punta. From My room I play Konpa.

My mother complains about having to work on christmas but in the aluminum pan she carried to work there was an exchange of goods, instead of the “diri jion jion” she went to work with she brings back Dominican braised chicken, coquito- she says it taste just like kremas- and black cake.

I go to the bodega for mangu and to listen to music.

Although I don’t go anymore, I walk past the Dominican hair salon and I can smell the iron and the hairspray.

Where else can my Haitian grandmother who speaks nothing but Haitian Creole have a Hispanic “boyfriend”.

I don’t have to search too far to find the beautiful, artful Latinx experience in NYC, it’s all around me.

I like that when people left their home countries they took pieces of the land with them. They never truly left.

[sad-ididnthavemyspace]

Ayisyen Natif Natal

Haitian: in New York (in this section I may switch back and forth from Haitian Creole and English) .

Ayisyen natif natal means Haitian born and raised. I was born in Haiti to a Haitian mother from Port-au-Prince, Haiti and Haitian father from Croix-des-bouquets, Haiti, to grandparents on my mothers side from Les Cayes, Haiti and Thomazeau, Haiti and grandparents on my fathers side from Croix-des-bouquets and so on and on and on. All that was to say as far as my knowledge permits my lineage only resides in Haiti. This was a difficult concept for many kids in my middle school to understand as they othered me from my Haitian identity.

“Yes I’m Haitian.”

“No I’m not mixed with anything, well I mean I guess my Great grandfather on my mom's side… No,yea I’m JUST Haitian...” 

These are the types of conversations I would have with classmates on, about, a monthly basis.

Once every few months I got my hair blown out at Carmen’s Dominican Hair Salon, it used to be located on Cortelyou Rd. When I arrived at Carmen’s after months of not running a comb through my hair, I would hide behind my mom as she tried to get Carmen to do my hair at the price listed on the door “$70” and in their thick accents, respective, Dominican and Haitian accents they would do what sounded to me like arguing but Later learned was just both groups normal level of speaking. After speaking Carmen would settle to do my hair at “$80” instead of the “$90” she would have first suggested, “ the hair mami, she has too much hair.” but once she agreed to do my hair she would treat me with the utmost care and give me the best service. I was always the first one there on those Saturdays, at 9:00am, so she would have me turn on her radio and out came a smooth Bachata.

She would proceed to wash my hair and as more of her clients came, more of the employees would also walk into work and the place would fill with spanish speaking women, eating, dancing and somewhere along the way someone would turn on the television to a telenovela, of which I would have no clue it’s plot because it was all in spanish. The fast rhythms of Merengue or salsa would fill the room as the place got busier, because it was already 11:00am. By this time I would have had been under the dryer with rollers on, a towel over my burning ears and one over my neck, for about an hour. By then I would be awakened from the dryers because it was time to straighten my hair. 

Once Carmen started doing her thing I would get excited because my hair would go from reaching my neck in its natural state to being at my bra strap when Carmen was all finished. As she was doing her process, however, I would sneak glances in the mirror of the women staring at how long my hair was. When she got done Carmen would put my hair in a “doobie” like the other Dominican women. The following day I would brush out and wear my thick tresses loose, although I felt beautiful, nothing would prepare me for how both beautiful and ugly my classmates were about to make me feel.

“Is that all your hair?”

“What are you mixed with?”

“Yes I’m Haitian.”

“Haitian and what”

“No I’m not mixed with anything, well I mean I guess my Great grandfather on my mom's side… No,yea I’m JUST Haitian...” 

These were my answers to those questions, I never really knew what to say. As the day went on the probing questions would continue. They did not see me as Haitian. Students who were all Black, as I went to a predominantly Black and Latinx/Hispanic middle school, saw Haitians as dirty, smelly, ugly, and “as not knowing how to dress.”

“You don’t look Haitian”

At first the things they said felt like compliments but I quickly understood that they saw me as some sort of Haitian exception. If they told me I was pretty but I “supposedly” didn’t look Haitian what was a Haitian supposed to look like? As I am a Haitian and I look like me so I clearly look haitian.

What is the Haitian experience in New York City? 

These days things are so much better than they used to be. Currently everyone wants to be Haitian and they want to participate in Haitian culture, they want to eat our food, dance to our music, date us, and speak our language but this wasn’t always the case. It’s honestly difficult discussing the exclusions of a subgroup in a big city because I feel like it goes unnoticed by any actual documentation. It is difficult to find any articles to support the very real experiences we went through, even though when you ask any Haitian person who grew up here they will have some kind of story of being disliked simply for being Haitian. We even have a new street, in Brooklyn, named after one of our revolutionary leaders as of 2018.

In speaking to some other Haitians who grew up in NYC I was able to contextualize a collective experience.

When speaking to a family friend recently she reminded me exactly of this topic, as I had just learned that she was haitian and I had expressed that I didn’t think that she was Haitian. My shock came from the fact that I had spoken to her about being Haitian before and she expressed her love for the culture, but to me it sounded like she was admiring the culture from an outsider perspective. However, what she said came from my outwardness and outspokenness about being Haitian as I played some Haitian tunes at our outdoor barbeque at the park. In her day she would not have been able to do what I mindlessly did on that day, she said. 

Growing up in the 1980’s-1990’s as she had done there was an immense amount of prejudice towards Haitians in her predominantly West Indian migrant neighborhood and school. “Why did that even happen?” I asked her. During that time there were falsehoods of Haitians being the reason for the time’s AIDS outbreak, “it was hard to identify as being Haitian during that time, kids would get beat up.” “Which is a reason I wasn't able to immerse myself in the culture and appreciate it,” she added. They endured scrutiny, bullying and being othered by all types of people and mainly other Caribbean people, what they described to me wasn’t even different to what I saw in middle school and early high school in 2011-2014, 20-30 years later.

Picture of 90’s AIDS march

I was always sort of confused as to why everyone treated us so badly and I remember my grandfather actually telling me that he went to the march and protested the fact the FDA put a ban on Haitians donating blood in the 90’s due to those baseless accusations.

“Jou sa tout ayisyen pa al travay”

“Nou souke pont sou yo, nou pa deplace”

That day no Haitian went to work.

We shook the bridge!! We did not move.