#deborah miranda

[furbyhater]

finished my 2nd book of the year and entered it into my reading journal 😌

[byronicist]

"I came into this world already scarred by loss on both sides of my family. My Indigenous side; my European side. My father and my mother were the kind of damaged people who should never have had children. But of course, they had me, and so my first language was loss."

Deborah Miranda, When Coyote Knocks on the Door (2021)

[wellconstructedsentences]

These are stories worth following home. Our bodies, like compasses, still know the way.

Bad Indians by Deborah Miranda

[not-if-its-you]

Love Poem to a Butch Woman by Deborah A Miranda

[beniyazu]

"Today we received special permission to view the baskets in Basket Storage. Going into the facility was like visiting our relatives in jail: sweet, bittersweet.... It was a heartbreaking visit. We could not take them home" (141-142)

Bad Indians (Deborah Miranda)

Imagine having to receive special permission to view your ancestors' belongings and having to leave them behind after? These insitutions (ie: UC Berkeley) act like they're doing a great service to indigenous Californians by letting them view their ancestors' baskets but don't think "we should return these to the tribe they came from" 🤔

I know there are repatriation efforts in progress but damn it shouldn't be this complicated

[runningwithinvisiblespectres]

I've been analyzing feminist writings/research for my summer classes and heres an interesting quote in regards to love poetry:

"We can conclude that the erotic is a luxury, something which must be earned after, not during, a more primal struggle for physical survival; and which, in many cases, can never be earned at all." -Debora Miranda

It very interesting to think about since a lot of writers historically were not allowed or given the opportunity to publish work depicting their own sexuality or romance.

[sociologicallyinsignificant]

Each grief has its unique side. Choose the one that appeals to you. Go gently. Your body needs energy to repair the amputation. Humor phantom pain. Your brain cells are soaked with salt; connections fail unexpectedly and often. Ask for help. Accept help. Read your grief like the daily newspaper: headlines may have information you need. Scream. Drop-kick the garbage can across the street. Don’t feel guilty if you have a good time. Don’t act as if you haven’t been hit by a Mack Truck. Do things a little differently but don’t make a lot of changes. Revel in contradiction. Talk to the person who died. Give her a piece of your mind. Try to touch someone at least once a day. Approach grief with determination. Pretend the finish line doesn’t keep receding. Lean into the pain. You can’t outrun it.

Deborah Miranda - Advice from La Llorona

[whitneymuseum]

SUNDAY: Indigenous women poets, writers, and musicians explore the power of language, story, and song in today’s fight for environmental and cultural justice. With a focus on the Standing Rock Resistance, Words for Water is a call to action and awareness around protection of sacred sites, cultures and languages, and our water, air, and earth. Featuring Natalie Diaz, Jennifer Foerster, Joy Harjo, Toni Jensen, Layli Long Solider, Deborah Miranda, and Laura Ortman and contributions by Heid E. Erdrich and Louise Erdrich. Tickets at whitney.org. Can't make it? We'll be streaming the event live on our Facebook page.

[Photograph of Standing Rock by Natalie Diaz]