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PromotingtheAdvancementofaWorldWithoutBordersandCensorship

o XicanaTravelogues

o TheTrueLifeStoryofChefRossi

o RacisminSpecialEducation

o RememberingFranciscoX.Alarcón

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Publisher&Editor-in-chiefAnaCastillo

DirectorofDesignL.JustineHernández

Toltecas

DavidBowles,MuertaPazCon-CorazónSin-Guerra,

andOctavioQuintanilla

PhotographyLaToltecaZine

LaToltecaZinewillbeonhiatusthroughout2016.

WewillannounceitsreturnonourFacebookPage,https://www.facebook.com/The-Official-La-Tolteca-Zine-

356989327735527/?ref=hl.

Atthistime,wearenotcurrentlyacceptingsubmissions.

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CONTENTS

Editor’sPage5FavoriteBookPicksforSummer34

ENMEMORIAMElPoetadelPuebloyMiCorazón:RememberingFranciscoX.AlarcónByNancyAidéGonzález6

POETRY SanTana BySylviaL.Chávez10You’retiredofyourlife ByOctavioQuintanilla12[Weleaveourhomesandwish] ByOctavioQuintanilla14Ancestry.com ByShyPachecoHamilton16Birth ByShyPachecoHamilton17

MEMOIRXicanaTravelogues:CorporateU.S.A. BySarahRafaelGarcía 18

JOURNEYS

JewishMigration:ExcerptsfromTheRagingSkillet ByChefRossi22WhereisThumbkin?RacisminSpecialEducationByNatashiaLópez-Gómez26 MyFeetWereMadeforCobblestones ByPatriciaCrisafulli30TemptingMuch:ExcerptsfromKnittingTheFogByClaudiaD.Hernández32

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EDITOR’S PAGE

he theme for the current issue is Journeys. We tend to think of a journey as linear travel, whether by land, air or sea. It is at your destination point where you tend to think that there will lay the possibility of transformation. We will no longer be the “old” us, the people of daily routines and maybe, even in ruts. At the port or station, we inhale what is surely different air. We will be renewed and perhaps improved with an opportunity to re-invent ourselves and

find unexpected opportunities. The idea of a journey in this issue, however, has been to examine the journey itself and understand how the experience itself renders change in us. We travel

linearly, yes, by car or kayak. But journeys may also take us in circles and zigzags and over rocky terrain. They have us questioning everything all the while. When do you arrive at your destination point? Perhaps it is only a respite, a pause for regrouping. It is possible that may be what a life is, ultimately, an ongoing series of overlapping journeys at many levels of the lived experience. There are also the internal journeys we take from earliest memory. Within, too, we have points of arrival, even while our beliefs seem to be formed once and for all. Something happens: “conflict,” and “crisis” follow. A resolution is sought and found. We may look the same, carry on the same, but we have changed. In this issue of La Tolteca, we have gathered some of these stories through non-fiction and poetry in the following pages. Self-examination is never easy. Once again, I am pleased and proud that writers who’ve attended my workshops were willing to take the editor and writer journey with me. Altogether, I think, we have produced another delightful issue. When I started my own journey developing La Tolteca Zine as an offshoot of the writing workshops I’ve offered, my intention was to give a platform to any of the many creative participants to feature their work. Soon, I added into

the mix established artists and writers. It has been, thus far, a privilege to work with so many in this country and elsewhere. Our presence remains for back issue viewing and referencing. Back copies are available for viewing at issuu.com/latolteca and on the Official La Tolteca Zine page on Facebook. At the end of this fifth year, my own journey as editor-in-chief of La Tolteca Zine has reached the station. We are not announcing an end to what we humbly have considered a significant endeavor and service to current arts and letters, but are announcing a happy break. The time off will allow me and the other volunteers to develop our own writing projects. I want to heartily thank the handful of creative individuals who gave of their time and talent to help produce our issues over the last six years. I wish each continued success in her/his writing. We are proud and joyful of the numerous workshop participants who have had books published, received advanced degrees and launched exciting careers in the past recent years. We are so proud to have been part of their journeys. I, too, continue with my own. Two book publications are being released this year. The Official The La Tolteca Zine Page on FB will remain in place and our readers may peruse all our past issues on issuu.com by going to: https://issuu.com/latolteca and https://www.facebook.com/The-Official-La-Tolteca-Zine-356989327735527/?ref=hl

We hope you enjoy our (not) last issue but last for now as much as we have enjoyed putting it together to showcase what we often saw as unsung talent amongst us.

Ana Castillo Editor-in-chief and Publisher

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ENMEMORIAM

EL POETA DEL PUEBLO Y MI CORAZÓN: REMEMBERING FRANCISCO X. ALARCÓN

ByNancyAidéGonzalez

ranciscoX.Alarcón’slifewaspoetryinconstantmotion.Heneverusedpunctuationinhispoetry.Eachlineofhisvidawasa

lyricalverse,uncanto.Hispoetryisaccessibletotheyoungandold,thegayandstraight,workersandscholars.Hebelievedthatpalabrascouldtransform,transcend,andheal.FranciscowasapoetwhocelebratedhisindigenousandMexican/Chicanoroots,apoetofdailylife,apoetofsocialconscience,andunpoetadelpueblo.HistremendousbodyofawardwinningworkwritteninSpanish,NáhuatlandEnglishwillcontinuetoenliventheChicanoliterarycommunityfordecades.NotonlywasFranciscoX.Alarcónaninspiringwriter,hewasafriendandmentortome.ImethimsixyearsagoatmyfirstEscritoresdelNuevoSolmeeting.Ireadmypoetrytothegroupinasoftvoice.Afterthemeetinghesaid,“Youhaveastrongvoice.Youhavetalent.”IjoinedEscritoresdelNuevoSol,whichFranciscoco-foundedwithArturoMantecónin1993.Theescritoresbecameasecondfamilytome.Franciscobelievedinliftingothersup.LikehismentoratStanford,FernandoAlegría—aChileanpoet,novelistandliterarycritic—hebelievedinmentorship.Franciscoinspiredme.Herecognizedmyleadership,organizational,andartisticabilities.Hepushedmetolearnnewthingsandchallengemyself.WebeganorganizingreadingforLosEscritoresdelNuevoSoltogether.Heaskedmetocreatepostersandpublicizeevents.Heoncetoldme,”Yourgiftswillpropelyouforward.”Heencouragedmetosubmitmyworktoliterary

journalsandanthologies.Soon,IwasapublishedpoettravelingacrossCaliforniasharingmypoetry.Hissupporthelpedmegrowasanindividual.IjoinedtheSacramentoPoetryCenter’sboardofdirectorsandbecameahostofMosaicofVoicesreadingseries,welcomingmulticulturalpoetsfromasfarasIndia.Francisco’simpactonmylifeisimmeasurable.Beforehepassedaway,IpromisedhimthatIwouldpublishabookofpoetry.Iintendtofulfillmypromise.HehelpedmebecomewhoIamatthispointinmylife.Franciscowasanactivistwhobelievedinhumanandcivilrights.In1985,hefoundedLasCuatroEspinas,thefirstgayChicanopoetrycollective.ThegroupwasgroundbreakingandpublishedYaVasCarnal,whichpropelledChicanogayactivismandliteratureforward.HealsofoundedPoet’sRespondingtoSB1070in2010.HewasemotionallymovedwhenhesawnineChicanostudentswhohadchainedthemselvestotheStateCapitolbuildinginArizonatoprotesttheremovalofLatinoliteraturefromthehighschoolcurriculum.Thispropelledhimtousesocialmediaasaforumforjusticeandresistance.Poetsfromallovertheworld,includingmyself,postedpoetryonthePoetsRespondingtoSB1070Facebookpage.Ourpoemscalledfortolerance,reflection,peace,andhealing.Asaresult,heandOdiliaGalvánRodriguezco-editedPoetryofResistance:VoicesforSocialJustice,whichwillbereleasedthisyear.IspentalotoftimewithFranciscoX.AlarcónwhileorganizingthePINTURA:PALABRAworkshop.WeworkedwithFranciscoAragón,directorofLetrasLatinasatNotreDame,tomaketheworkshop

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possible.Thetwo-dayworkshopwasheldattheCrockerArtMuseumonOctober11-12,2015incoordinationwiththeSmithsonianAmericanArtMuseumexhibit,“OurAmerica:TheLatinopresenceinAmericanArt.”FranciscoledaworkshopinwhichseventeenLatinopoetswroteekphrasticpoetryinspiredbyartatthemuseum.Hemadealastingimpressiononeveryonewithhisimpressiveknowledgeanddeepinsights.Once,whileplanningtheworkshopathishouseoutsideonhispatio,Franciscotoldmepoetrywasmagical.HequotedTomásRiveraandsaidthatChicanopoetryservedthreemainpurposes:recuerdo(remembrance),resistencia(resistance),

andrecreación(reinvention).Recuerdo,resistancia,andrecreaciónareall,ofcourse,inFrancisco’sownwork.Hewouldstayupallnightwritingpoetry.Hewasinspiredbytheworldandlivedlifetothefullest.Hewasdedicatedtounitingpeople. Franciscowasproudofourcultura.Eachtimehehadareadingorpresentation,hewouldhonorthefourdirectionsorthefourcardinalpointsinthetraditionofNativecultures.Heburnedsage,whichdancedintheairasitrose.He’daskeveryonetoriseandwe’dcall,“Tahui!Tahui!Tahui!”totheNorth(thedirectionsoftheancestors),East(thedirectionoffire,whatpoetrywasallabout,he’d

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say),South(thedirectionofwater),andWest(thedirectionofthewind).Thenhehaduscalltothefifthdirection,whichhebelievedtobethepersonnexttous.FranciscosaidthatthewordTahuiwasasacredtermthatmeansInLak’Ech.IntheMayacultureInLak’Echmeans“Eresmiotroyo.”Onseveraloccasions,wecalledthesacredwordtoeachother.Heoftenlookeddeepintomyeyes;itfeltasifhesawintomysoulandwesmiledateachother.Hissmilealwaysemanatedloveandacceptance.Duringthesespecialtimes,Ifeltclosetohim.Ourspiritsseemedtorecognizeeachother.Itwasasifwecouldglimpseintoeachother’shearts.FranciscopracticedtheideaofInLak’Echeveryday.Hewasconstantlygivingtoothersandthecommunity.FranciscohadfaiththathecouldmaketheEarthabetterplace.Hegavevoicetothosewhodidnothaveavoice.FranciscoX.AlarcónwasoneofthegreatestmenIhaveeverknown,andhiswordswillcontinuetogiveushopeinthistumultuousworld.Thelastmonthofhislife,Francisco’smottowas“Vivalavida!”IvisitedhimseveraltimesattheU.C.DavisMedicalCenter.Eveninhishospitalgown,inpainfromtype4stomachandlivercancerthathewassuddenlydiagnosedwith,Franciscoremainedpositive.Heexcitedlysharedhisideasforprojects.Hishusband,JavierPinzón,wasalwaysathisside.FranciscoalwaysexpressedhisappreciationandloveforJavier.

OnJanuary10,2016,thecelebratedSalvadoranpoetandwriter,JorgeTetlArguetaorganizedaneventwithseveralclosefriendstocelebrateFrancisco’slifeatCafélaBohemeinSanFrancisco.Thewordsreadandimageswesharedinhishonorwerelikemonarchbutterfliescrossingbordersandflitteringintheair.Francisco,whowasabletoattend,sharedhispoetryinastrongcadencethatwasuniquelyhisown.Whenheleftthereading,Iwenttotalktohimoutside.Mylastwordstohimwere,“Iloveyou.Iloveyousomuch.”Hesmiledatmeandgavemeafirmhug.Hesaid,“Goodbye,Nancy.”Hepassedawayfivedayslater.Francisco’sfuneralwasfilledwithincantations,chants,andsongsofferedbymanyofuswhoattendedtohonorhim.Indigenous,Mexican,andCatholictraditionsmergedharmoniouslytogether.Aztecdrumsandmariachimusicreachedtheheartsofeveryone.Aztecdancersmovedinsynchrony,theirfeatherssoaringintheair.FatherCarlosAlarcón,Francisco’sbrother,gaveasermonthatwoveBiblicalverseandinsightfulwordsabouthisbrother.JorgeTetlArguetaburnedcopal,blewaneaglewhistle,andsangbeautifulversesinNáhuatlinasacredceremonypasseddownfromtheancestors.Weallworevividcolorsandcalledtothefourdirections.Wechanted"Vivalavida!"Athisgravesite,Ilookedattheskyandsaidmyfinalgoodbye.FranciscoX.Alarcónwillalwaysbeelpoetademicorazón.

NancyAidéGonzález(workshopswithAnaCastilloinLosAngeles,2014andSacramento,2015)isaChicanapoet,educator,andcommunityactivistintheartsandletter.HerpoemsrecentlyappearedinHuizache:ThemagazineofLatinoliterature.

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Poetry

SanTana SYLVIAL.CHAVEZTierrayTernuraTuyYoLunayNocheEstrellasdetestigosSanTana MúsicaMenudoYMamáSanTanaJuanGabriel,Bukis,YChente,Loquelegustaamigente.MúsicamuyfuertedepuertaaesquinaUncoromezclado,ledamássaborSanTanaFruitStreetCrazyEddieZodiesGemcoAndTacoTiotooBecauseIgowaaaaayyyybacklikethatLaMini!LaMiniWho?LaMiniStreet?DondemerobémiprimerdulceOcultadoenmibolsilloSinningunasospecha

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LaCalleCuatroDepasoapasoCaminolargodespuésdeescuelaRaspadosychicharronesSilbidosyllantosde¡AyMamacitaChula!AcompañadaconunademáninapropiadoSinporquéVirgenquemadaVirgensincasaVirgenquefuehogardenuestrosDomingosRecuerdosconvertidosacenizasSanTanaCasaenlaavenidadeEastsideCasaamarillademimadreypadreCasadondeseconstruyóunnidoYvolaronseispalomasmorenasSanTana¿Cadenasoraíces?¿Historiasorencor?RecuerdosquevanyvienenComouncarruselalcentrodeunaplaza,downtownSanTanaCuerponacidoenotropaísPerohechoenSanTanaPormediodelasmemoriassembradasentrehuesosSanTana.

SylviaL.ChávezwasanArtist-In-ResidenceatDorlandMountainArtsColony.HerforthcomingpoetrycollectionisAmorAMordidas.

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You’retiredofyourlife,OCTAVIOQUINTANILLA

soyoubuyasmallhouseinSouthTexas.Beforeyoubuythehouse,yougetarrestedfordrinkinganddriving.Yougotojailforthreedaystillyourolderbrother,finally,bailsyouout.Hetellsyounottoworry,thatheknowssomeonewhoknowssomeonewhoknowssomeone.Everythingwillbeokay.Youwon’tloseyourdriver’slicense.Youwon’tloseyourjob.It’sallaboutknowingsomeonewhoknowsmorethanyou.Thenyoutellhimthatmaybeyoushouldn’thaveboughtthehouse,thatyou’retiredoflivingthewayyoudo.Divorcewasinventedforareason,hetellsyou,thatmaybeshe’llrespectyouahellofalotmoreknowingyouhadthegutstocutherloose.Butyouarenotsureofanything.Soyouthinkofthestoryofyourparentsfallinginlove.(Youhadtocomefromsomewhere,right?)Theyhavethreechildrenandyou’reoneofthem.Thethirdonediedasababy.Thetwotimesyourmothertalkedaboutit,youwonderedhowapersoncanlivewithsuchsadnessandkeepitalltothemselves.Sadnesslikeanunhealedbone.Likeasplinterintheiris.Butbackthen,allyouwantedwastobealone,sosometimesyou’dwriteyourselfintoastoryasanine-year-oldboybuildingatreehouse.Youwantedtotellyourparentsthatyouwereoldenoughtoleavetheirtown,thattheirappetitewasnotbigenoughtokeepthemallalive.

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Itwasjustathought.Youneverwrotethisdown,andyouneverfinishedthestory.Thetownwassmallliketheheartofaflea.Thetownwasdrylikeascabonaknee.Inthestoryyouwriteyearslater,yourolderbrotherbailsyououtofjailandtellsyouheknowsplentyofpeople,thatit’sallaboutknowingsomeonewhoknowssomeone,foryounottoworry.Youwon’tloseyourjob,hesays,you’llkeepyourdriver’slicense,keepyourhouse.Hehasnowayofknowingthatyou’restilltryingtoclimboutofthetreehouseyouneverfinishbuilding.You’restilltryingtoconvinceyourselftoleaveyourparents’smalltown.Whatifyouleaveandthere’snowayback?Noonetheretogiveyoudirections?Noonetheretorememberyouandpointafingertowhatyouwantedtoforgive?

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[Weleaveourhomesandwish]

Weleaveourhomesandwishtoreturnoneday,tothesamefadinglightweseethroughcurtainsjustbeforeourmothercallsustodinner,tothesightofloverskissingonthestreet,holdingeachotherasiftheworldhadbeennothingbutkindtothem,wewanttoreturntothesoundoftelevisioninthenextroom,toouryoungersisterlisteningtothatlovesongweallhatebecauseittellsushowmuchinlovesheis,wewanttoreturnfatwithkindnessandlistentothehappyyowlsofchildrenwhostillhavebothparents,returntothosewhohavenotslashedtheirwristswithboredom,returntotheblurryphotographsthatrecordtheinnocencesomeofuslostinoneday,orthatshowoursmilespulsingwiththepromiseofmoreyouth,

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endless,wethink,endlessthisbeautifulhour,inthiscasketofaphotographinwhichnooneisavictim,andyetit'sclearinoureyeshowbadwewanttoclimbtheroofsatmidnight,screamournameonelasttime,andwithoutgoodbye,withoutlookingback,lockthegatebehindusandneverreturntounlockitagain.

OctavioQuintanilla’s(McAllen,Texasworkshop,2009)firstpoetrycollection,IfIGoMissing,wasreleasedbySloughPressin2014.

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Ancestry.comSHYPACHECOHAMILTON

IsittooclichétosayIwasneverChicanaenough?Neverblackenough?IstrugglenowevenasI’mgrownjustasIdidasalittlegirlbutnowIknowthehistory.IknowmismadreswerekidnappedbytheSpanishforcedtospeakalanguagethatwasn’ttheirsforcedtoabandontheirreverenceofThoughtWomanforcedtobecalledDoñathenametheirmothergavetothem,unknownnodifferentthantheYeyesonmyAfricanside.WerenodifferentUncleAlonsokilledhisbrothers.ToprotecthisKeresmotherstagedacoupagainstthepopedrovetheSpanishfromNewMexicoforafewshortyears.Thentheycameback.That’swhywespeakSpanishnowmakeenchiladasnowmakegreenchilenowatleastIcanknowwhomymother’smother’smothers’mother’smotherwasknowthelandshewasbornonknowthegoddesssheworshippedevenifmimadre’smadre’smadreislistedsimplyasPueblowoman.TheonlyAfricanIknowisme.AtleastIknow.

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Birth

Annabirthed.Annaweavedtogethertheelementsneededtosurvive.Annabirthedweaveagain.Birthagain.Weaveagain.Birth.ThenJoniweavedtheelementsneededtosurvive.Jonibirthed.Shylahweavestheelementsneededtotosurvive.Shylahbirthed.NowIwait&watch,asmydaughterslearntoweave.Theydon’tknowyetitishowtheywillsurvive.Iwaitforthemtolearnhowtoperfecttheirstrandsofcloth.Iwaitforthemtoperfectthedyetheyuse,tocolorthestrands.TheywatchmeandIwatchthemandwaitforthemtobirth.

ShyHamilton(Women’sSpiritualityCoursewithAnaCastilloattheCaliforniaInstituteofIntegralStudiesin2014)isanAfrosurrealistfilmmakerandwriter.Herexperimentalfilmshavebeenfeaturedinexhibitionsworldwide.

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MEMOIR

XICANA TRAVELOGUES: CORPORATE U.S.A.

BySarahRafaelGarcía

herehavebeenmanymomentswhenI askedmyselfhowIgottowhereIwas. Sometimesitwastocomplimenta

success,othertimesitwastocontemplatea misfortune.Inthiscase,Iwasgratefultoavoid anaffairwithamarriedmanbecauseIdidn’t needtoaddanotherunmentionablethatwould causemetocastmoreshameuponmyself. Thereweremanychoicesthatledmetoa marketingpositioninCorporateAmerica.But thesuperficialityofitalltaughtmehowto cover-upmydepressionandinsecuritieswhile assimilatingintonewsituations.Notmany peopleknewaboutitbackthen,butIchoseto haveanabortionattheageoftwenty-seven.It wasthemostdifficultdecisionImadeasa woman,simplybecauseitwentagainstallthe socialnormsIgrewupwithasaMexican, Catholicgirl.

ImovedtoMiamionawhimafteragreatNew Year’sEvetripin2000.Ispentthefirstsix monthslivingoffsavingswhileexploringthe beachesandnightlife.Threemonthsintothe stay,IstarteddatingaguywhoIknewwould beatemporarydistraction.Heattendedalocal artschoolandhadtravelledtoplacesIhadyet aspiredtovisit—likeNewYorkandEurope.We hadpracticed“safesex”so,Ididn’tthinktwice whentherelationshipended.Itwasn’tuntilthe secondmonthafterIstoppedseeinghimthatI missedmyfirstperiod.Ihadnotbeenwith anyonesoIwascaughtabitoff-guardwhenI foundmyselfvomitingviolentlyataSunday brunch.Inmidstofthetorment,Ijokedabout thepossibilityofbeingpregnant,“Ishould totallyclaimImmaculateConception…”because thatwouldatleastbeanattempttoappeasemy

Mexican-Catholicfamily.Afewdayslater,a girlfriendaccompaniedmethroughvarious pregnancyteststhatkeptaffirmingmyworst fear.Iwaspregnant,singleandunemployed.In myeyes,Iwasacliché.

Atthetime,Ionlyhadaweektomakea decision.Ichosethelessintrusiveabortion process.Iswallowedapillandinsertedtablets toinduceamiscarriage.Immediately,Ibroke downandcried.Afterhavingtoreturnfora seconddoseaweeklaterbecausethefirst attemptwasn’tfullyeffective,Ivowedto changemylifeforthesakeofjustifyingtheone Itook. China Attheageofthirty,IarrivedattheBeijing InternationalAirportinlateAugust2004.As soonasIwalkedoutfromthebaggagearea, screamingtaxidriverspulledonmysleeves andwobblyluggagecarrier.Mytwolargebags

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andcarry-onwereover-stuffedandimpossible torollonmyown.Ipackedovertenpairsof shoesandcountlessname-brandoutfits—all quitesuperficial.AsIpushedthroughthenoisy crowd,Chinesemencontinuedtopullatme fromalldirections.IlookedforsignsIcould understandbuteverythingwasdisplayedin Chinesecharactersandpinyin.

“English?DoyouspeakEnglish?” “Howaboutyou,doyouspeakEnglish? Canyouhelpmemakeacall?”

AndjustwhenIwasabouttocryoutof frustration,ayoungChinesemansignaledto me.Theyoungmanguidedmetoapayphone andgesturedwithhishandsformetomakea call.Igavehimthenumberofmyemployer whoIhadyettomeet.Hemadethecallforme sinceIhadnoideahowtouseapublicpay phoneinChinanordidIhaveanyChinese currency.Onlyfortyminutesaftersteppinginto theBeijingairport,Idoubtedmydecisionand contemplatedaquickreturn.

Duringthetwomonthsleadinguptomy departure,Igatheredallthelegaldocuments andpackedmybagswithmuchattention.The actualdecisiontoliveinChinawas spontaneous.Hell,Ididn’tevenownapassport untilIgotonetoteachEnglishinBeijing.Going toChinaraisedthesameargumentmymother andIhadaboutmovingoutofherhomeand goingtocollege.Beingthefirstborninthe UnitedStatesandawomancamewithmany culturalexpectations.WhenIappliedtoteach EnglishinChina,itwassimplyoutof frustrationandexhaustion.Itwasmywayof tellingeveryone,“IquitthisAmericanDream!I quitthenotionthatIneedamantomakemy dreamscometrue.Iquitworkinglonghours withlittletimetomyself.”Ofcourse,Icould onlysaysuchthingstomyfemalefriendswho werealsosingleandyoungprofessionals.I presentedmyChinaescapetomyfamilyasa sabbaticalfrommycareertoexploreextended

travelandwriting.Butmymotherquestioned all.

“Butit’sacommunistcountry!It’s dangerous!”“¿Quévashacerallá?“”And doyouevenlikeChinesemen?”“You’re thirty,it’sabouttimeyouthinkabout gettingahusband.”

Ican’tsayIdidn’twantahusband.Ispentmost ofmytwentiesdatingallkindsofmen—awhite manwholivedinTurkeyforawhileandwas financiallysupportedbyhismother,aCypriot whohopedtobecomerichinAmerica,anda richPersian-Jewishwhobrokeoffanalmost engagementwithmebecausehismother couldn’tacceptaMexican-Catholicasher daughter-in-law.

Afterseventeenmonthsandbeingonemonth awayfromreturningtotheStates,Ialready consideredmyselfmoreofalocalthana foreigner.Iblewsootoutofmynosewithout beingsurprised,rolledupmypantsbefore enteringapublictoilettoavoidabsorbingthe urineonthefloorandbargainedforeverything toafifthofpriceinMandarinor,assomewould callwhatIspoke,“Chinglish.”

Theterms“foreigner”and“Mexican-American” asareferencetomyidentitywerereplaced withthetitleof“ex-pat”and“Englishteacher.”I accomplishedallIcametodo—writeabook, travel,andteachEnglish—whileexploringmy sexualindependence.Ialsoextendedmystay bysixmonths,learnedsomeChineseand climbedtheGreatWallsixteentimes,allwhile makinganaverageofonethousanddollarsa month.Whodoesthat?Iwondered.(NooneI knewthen.)BeforeChina,IneverthoughtI couldliveasIlivedinBeijingandbehappy. Australia MytripstartedinMelbourne,withthree monthsaheadofmeinmid-October2009.Ihad traveledwithabackpackandbookbag.One

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containedtwobottlesofwine,tortillas,and favoritedressesasemergencyreserves— predictingitwouldtakemeawhiletotransition intoavagabond—andthesecondtowedmy writingsupplies.Sadly,I’dalreadysharedmy winewithanEnglishwomanintheBlue Mountainswhoyearnedforherboyfriendand wasdepressedaboutherupcomingbirthday. Nowaweeklater,Iwishedforsomeonetooffer meadrinkandalisteningear.

Iknewthere’dbedayswhenI’dconsider endingthejourneyearly.Ifnotformyabsent boyfriend,itwouldbeforlackoffunds.YetI wasmesmerizedbythewhite,cockatoos roamingovermyheadwhilelostintheBlue Mountainsandthegoldcoastviewsmademe wanttostayforever.Thelocalsreferredto theirlandasOz,andwithintwoweeks,I acquiredthesayingtoo.ButIwasbemusedby mypresenceintheLandofOz.Iwasn’tquite surewhatkeptcallingmetothinkofmyreturn. Apartofmewantedtowantwhateverybody elsewanted:alifepartner,ahouse,a permanentplacetocallhome.Butthatwasn’t thecase,IfeltlikeIwascompromisingandthe

ideaofapermanenthomeweighedheavylike ananchor.Iwantedtoexploreunchartered waters,Iwantedmore. AsItookaseattocallmyboyfriendbackinthe States,Ireadthefirstsetofwordsoffthe scriptedwalls,“Don'tLiveLifeLikeReadingA Book.LiveLikeYourWritingABook.”Igrabbed mycameraandsnappedapicture.ButI couldn’tstopthere.Irecordedthehorizon,the dumpsterdivingstencilimagenexttothat particularquote,theblobofrecyclablesthat seemedtohavegrownovernightandlastly,a photoofmyselfinaarmchaircoveredin writing.Thatwasthemomentmyadventure began.LittledidIknowtwoweekslatermy “ideal”Chicanoboyfriendontheoppositeside ofthePacificwouldendtherelationshipover thephone,thedayafterIexploredtheGreat BarrierReef.Thesuddensplitleftmewitha longingtoreturntoahousefilledwithobscure moments,justtoescapethelonelinessonce again.Ittookmorethanatrainrideorbeach daytoovercomemydisillusion.Yet,thatquote becamemymantrafortheremainingtwo months,forcingmetoredefinemy independence,freeingmetobemore

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JOURNEYS

JEWISH MIGRATION EXCERPTS FROM THE RAGING SKILLET

ByChefRossi

hensummerrolledaround,itwastimeforourJewishmigration.BoltingthecampertoDad’spickup,loadingitwith

kids,cutoffs,andenoughcannedgoodstofeedDesMoines,weheadeddownI-95fromSouthJerseytoNorthFloridaMyfolkssaidthereasonforourpilgrimagewastocheckontheir“realestate,”aclusterofrinky-dinkbungalowsinacrappypartoftownonwhatwasthentheRedneckRiviera,PanamaCity,Florida.Therealreasonwehittheroadthedayafterschoolletoutwasneitherpropertyinspectionnorwanderlust,buttheneedtoescapebeingathometogetherallsummer.

Idon’tknowifI-95reallywasonelongwhitelineleadingtotheDeepSouthlikeIpictureit.MaybeafewtwistsandturnshappenedwhileIwassleeping.Iwasindulginginmyfavoriteactivity,daydreaming.IdaydreamedfromJerseythroughDelawareandMarylandeveryJune.Theywerethestatesthatseemedthemostforgettabletomethen,and,well,now.Inmydaydreams,Iwasoneoftwothings,aheroorarockstar.Asahero,Isavedkidsatschoolfromasniperattackbysneakingupbehindthegunmanandhittinghimwithabottle.Iwasstuckonthebottle-hittingthing,butItrieditoutonasidewalkonce,andtheyreallydon’tbreakaseasilyastheydointhemovies.

Asarockstar,Iwasonstageinfrontofmyscreaming,adoringfans,beltingoutasongthatwouldmakeJanisJoplinjealous.Ineverdreamedaboutbeingapudgythirteen-year-oldintheearlydaysofpuberty.OncepastVirginia,Istartedtakingrealitybreaksfrommydaydreaming.Icountedtherowsoftobaccointhefields,readthebillboardsforfireworksandpecanpie,andstayedalertforanychancetopullintoaroadsidedinerwithaSouthernbreakfastspecial.In1977,abreakfastspecialataSouthernhighwaydinerwasworththewholetrip.Iamtalkingaboutcoffeewithasmanyrefillsasyouwanted,buttermilkbiscuitsandhomemadejam,sweetcreamybutterandgravy,twoeggssoslickandgreasythey’dsliderightofftheplateifyoudidn’tkeepitcompletelylevel.Thencamethegrits,hashbrowns,andtoast.Allthiswasservedtoyouforninety-ninecentsbyawaitressinablueuniformwithalaceapronnamedBlancheorMayorCharlene,whoworestreaksoffrostygreeneyeshadowandsetherhairupintoabouffantkeptinplacebyawhitedoilyintheshapeofatiara.Insidethecamper,mysisterandIsleptonthetopbed,placingusintheoverhangontheroofoftheFord,themostglamorousspotinthecamper

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duringcoolweather.Butintheheatofsummer,wecovetedmybrother’sspot.Hissinglebedlayagainst“thehole,”thecrawlwayfromthecamperintothefrontseatoftheFord,wheremyparentsblastedtheair-conditioninguntilfrostformedonthewindows.They’dbeentoocheaptogetacamperthathadACventingintoit,soweallfoughtoverthehole,andsometimeswhenithitninetyorabove,wewouldcrawlthroughtheholeandslithersnakelikebetweenmyparents.However,noamountofwondrousair-conditioningwasenoughofarewardforbeingtheOreofillingtomyfolks.Mydadprettymuchspenttheridegrunting,eatingapples,andtryingdesperatelytogetmymothertostoptalking.He’stheonlypersonIevermetwhocouldsay,“shutup”asonesyllable,“shuuuuuup!”Unfazed,Momwouldbabbleonaboutanever-endingabundanceofthingsnoneofusgaveahootabout.Sheworriedabouttheoldladyshe’djusthadaheart-warmingconversationwithinthecheckoutlineofthePigglyWigglysupermarket.“Oh,Ihopeherbackfeelsbettersoon!”SheworriedalotabouttheJews.“Itcanhappenagain,Itellyou!Hitlersareborneveryday!”Sheworriedaboutwhetherthecollectionofcouponsshewashoardinginherpursehadexpired.Shehadastream-of-consciousnessstyle.Detailsofthestrangerswithwhomshe’djustbecomebestfriendsgavewaytoadiscourseabouttheterriblethingthatwashappeningtotheJewsthisweek,andthatinturnledtoabarrageofthetwo-for-onesaleswewereabouttomiss.AfterapproximatelyfifteenminutesofMomtorture,weslitheredfromthecoolfrontseatbacktothesaunaonwheels.

OnewouldthinkthatbedtimewouldbearelieffromMom’schatter.Thankfully,shedidn’ttalkinhersleep,butthatdoesn’tmeanshewasquiet.Nighttime,whenweparkedforwhatwassupposedtobesleep,mymotherletoutstrange,gastricnoises.Inthefewmomentswhensomethingdidn’tsoundlikeitwaseruptingfromher,myfathersnored,mysisterhummed,ormybrotherwheezed.ThisalmostindescribablecombinationofnoisesmadeuptheRossFamilySymphony,andtherewasjustnosleepingthroughit.Theentirecamperwasaboutthesizeofmysmallbedroomathome,andinitmyfamilyoffiveswelteredthenightaway.Ineversleptwhenweparked.Butonextrahotnights,mysister,brother,andIwouldbeginourmotelwhineagoodtwohoursbeforesleeptime.“Motel,motel,motelwithpool,motel,”andifitwashotenoughandwewhinedlongenough,itusuallyworked.Now,mydadlikedagoodswimmingpool,colorTV,andACasmuchaswedid.Butheandmymomalwaysheldoutuntilthelastpossiblesecond,whenwewerealmosttootiredtoenjoytheseluxuriesbecauseofanotiontheyfosteredthatifyoupulledintoamotellateenoughandtherewerestillfreeroomsandyoupaidincash,youcouldalmostalwaysgetoneathalf-price.Ineverwasabletoconvincethemthateventhoughthiswasusuallytrue,ifallyoudidwaspassoutwithoutusingthepool,theTV,ortheicemachineandweretootiredtoevenrollaroundontheshagrugortryrippingoffthecandymachine,thenwhocaredifitwashalf-price?InKidland,thiswasalousydeal.

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__________________________EggsI’dCookforElvisServes2to4mortalsor1rock’n’rolllegendwithaheartyappetite

INGREDIENTS6eggs,beatenSaltandfreshgroundpepper2heapingplopssweetbutter1handfulwhiteonion,minced1handfulbellpepper,diced1heapinghandfulbreakfastsausage

(maybe4links),slicedordiced

OPTIONAL4cheeseslices

Beat6eggsinabowlandseasontoyourlikingwithsaltandpepper.

Melt2heapingplopsofsweetbutterinanovenproofskillet.Afterthebuttermeltsandfoams,addonehandfulofmincedonionandahandfulofdicedbellpepper.

Cookthisforacoupleofminutes,thenthrowinahandfulofanykindofslicedordicedsausage.Youcantrybreakfastsausage,vegetariansausage,orchickensausage,whateverfloatsyourboat.

Sautéyourconcoctionuntilthesausagelooksprettywellcooked,thenturnuptheheatalittleandpourintheeggs.Thetrickatthispointisto

keepstirring(preferablywithawoodenspoon)untiltheeggsbegintoset.That’showyougetthatnice,fluffyomeletlook.

Nowhere’sthebestpart:stickthewholethingintheovenatabout400degrees,andwhenitpuffsupandstartstobrown,it’sready!Easyandbreezylikeaplus-sizesundress.

Toserve,cutintofourwedges,orone(fortheKing).

Ifyou’dliketorememberElvisbyaddingafewmorecalories,youcangiveyourbreakfastanicelow-renttouchbythrowingsomeVelveetacheeseontopjustbeforeyousticktheeggsintheoven.ThoseindividuallywrappedAmericancheesesliceswork,too,butifyouusesomethingfancy,likecheddarorSwiss,theeggswilltastetoouptownandyou’llhavetochangeclothes.

________________________________________________________Re-printedfromFeministPresswithpermissionfromtheauthorWhiteTrashbutKeepin’ItKosherTunaandMacaroniSaladServes2teenagersor4grown-ups

INGREDIENTS1lb.macaroni1coffeecupmayonnaise1largecantuna½redonion,diced2celerystalks,diced1largekosherdillpickle,chopped1(8oz.)canpeas1pinchsaltandfreshgroundpepper

Boiloneboxofmacaronianddrain.Cooloffundercoldwater,thendrainagain.

Combinemayo,tuna,redonion,celery,pickle,peas,andsaltandpepper.Mixitallupandenjoy.

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JOURNEYS

WHERE IS THUMBKIN? RACISM IN SPECIAL EDUCATION

ByNatashiaLópez-Gómez,M.Ed.

omingtogripswiththefactthatyourchildisautisticisapainfulexperience.ThrowintothatmixthefactthatyouareLatino,

andyourfearsandworriesaredoubled.Yourchildisnowpartof“thesystem,”thespecialeducationsystem.Infact,ifyouoptoutofthesystem,chancesareyouwillbelabeledasabadparentfornotlinkingyourchildtoneededservices.Latinoparentsspendalotoftimeandenergyraisingtheirkidstostayoutofthesystem.Idon’tallowmychildrentowearstarterjackets

orredt-shirtsforfeartheywillbelabeledasgangmembersorhoodlums.Giventheseconcerns,youcanimaginethedevastationIfeltwhenIescortedoursonElijah,atthetenderageoffour,tohisfirstspecialeducationevaluation.Mostpublicschooldistrictsperformspecialeducationevaluationstodeterminewhatservicesyourdisabledchildwillreceiveaspartofhiseducation.Moreimportantly,theyarealsoperformedtodetermineifyourchildcanstayinthegeneraleducationsettingorifhewillbeplacedinaSpecialDayClass,aclassdesignedforthedisabled.Likemostparentswithdisabledchildren,wehadhopesthatElijahcouldstayinthegeneraleducationsystem.Basedonconversationswithotherparents,wehearditcouldbeatoughbattle.IalsoknewthatLatinostudentswereoftenoverrepresentedinspecialeducationclasses.1Becauseofthesereasons,Iwasn’tlookingforwardtohisassessment.Iwasalsodreadingtheevaluationbecauseoftheeventsthatleduptoit.PriortobeingrecommendedforSpecialEducation,Elijahwasinageneraleducationkindergartenclass.TheteacherwasawarethatElijahhadamoderatelevelofautism.Weexplainedourdesiretohavehimaccommodatedinthegeneraleducationsetting.Itsoonbecameclearshewasnotsupportive.Thefirstday,shecomplainedbecauseElijahkeptsittinginherchair.(Elijahlovedchairsthatspunaround.)Apparentlyeverytimetheteacherstoodupfromherbigleatherchair,Elijahwouldjumpintoit

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andspinthechairincircles.Werequestedanaccommodationbyaskingthatshelockthechair’sabilitytospin.Itwasdenied.Thesecondday,Elijahwaspreoccupiedwithpaintingandrefusedtoleavethepaintingeaseltojoininotherlessons.Weaskedifthepaintingeaselscouldbestoredoutofsightduringnon-paintingtimes.Ourrequestwasdenied.Ultimately,Elijahwassuspendedfor“behavior”issuesafterheandaclassmateengagedinatugofwaroverabook.Iwasobservingtheclassonthedayoftheincident.TheotherchildinvolvedwasatinyAsiangirlwithastronggrip.Itwasunclearwhohadthebookfirst,butthebookwastorninhalfasaresultofthestruggle.Theteacher,ayoungAsianwoman,lookedoveratmeinterrorandsaid,“Thatwasmyfavoritebook,anditisoutofprint!”2ThenextdaywewereservedwithsuspensionpapersandanIndividualizedEducationProgrammeetingwasscheduledimmediately.DuringthemeetingtheteacheraskedthatElijahberemovedfromherclassandplacedinaSpecialDayClass.WeknewwewouldhaveabattleaheadofusoverElijah’sclassplacement,butweweren’texpectingasuspensiontooccur.However,theparentswhohadwarnedusofourimpendingbattlewerenotLatino.Theyhaddisabledkids,buttheywerenotbrownkids.IsuddenlyfeltveryconnectedtotheCradletoPrisonPipelineandtothealarmingrateofexpulsionsandsuspensionsofAfricanAmericanandLatinoboys.3ItwaswiththesethoughtsthatIhadgrudginglydraggedElijahtohisspecialeducationevaluation.Thedayoftheevaluationstartedoutpoorly.Elijahhadthesniffles.Iwasworriedhewascatchingacold.Thespaceusedfortestingwasahugebungalowwithaplaykitcheninthecenter.IwonderedhowElijahwouldremainseatedfortestingwhilesurroundedbythetemptationoftoys.“Whatcolorisgrass?”askedtheschoolpsychologist.“Whatanimalmakesmilk?”“Whatfingeristhis?”sheasked,wavingherthumbin

frontofElijah’seyes.Mychildwasnotinterested.Heleftthetestingtableandheadedstraightforthemake-believemicrowave.“Youcanplaywiththetoysafteryouworkwithme,”statedthepsychologist.Heignoredherandmovedontotheplaycornonthecobandrubbertomatoslices.“Elijah,whatcolorisgrass?”“Whatanimalmakesmilk?”ShecontinuedtorepeatthequestionsdespiteElijah’sinattention.“Canwetryusingaroomwithfewerdistractions?”Isuggested.Sherespondedwithacondescendingtonestating,“Youneedtotellhimthathemustsitatthetableandanswerthesequestions.”Itriedandwasunsuccessfulingettinghimtodoso.AtsomepointthepsychologistresortedtofollowingElijahasheroamedthroughtheplayarea,herredtestbookinonehandandherpenintheother.IcouldseeElijah’sfrustrationgrowingashemovedaroundfaster.Hewasnowrunningfromher,droppingplayveggiesanddishestothegroundalongtheway.Shechasedafterhim,bendingdowntorepeatthequestionsoverandoverinhisear.“Elijah,whatcolorisgrass?”“Elijah,whatfingeristhis?”Herthumbshowedupinfrontofhisfaceagain.“Shameonme,”Ithought.“Whydidn’tweteachhimthenurseryrhyme,WhereisThumbkin?”Instead,wehadhopedthathewouldattendtheSpanishimmersionschoollikehisoldersisterandthus,wewerestillsingingSpanishsongsathome,“LosPollitos”and“AlTambor.”Iintervenedagain,“Canyoujustskipthethumbquestionandmoveontothenext?Ithinkit’sclearthathedoesn’tknowtheanswer.”Sheglaredatme,“Hedoesn’tknowwhatfingerthisis?”Thistimeshewavedherthumbinmydirection.“Thatissomethingbasicthattheyteachinpreschool,”sheadded.Desperateforthesessiontoend,ImentionedElijah’smorningsniffles.“IthinkElijahiscomingdownwithacold.Canwere-schedule?”Beforeshecouldrespond,Elijahtriedtopulltheredtestbookfromherhand,havingreachedhislimitwithbeingstalked.Sheheldontight,“Thisismine!”shecried.A

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struggleensuedandElijahdughisnailsintoherwristcausingthetestbooktofalltotheground.“Heisnotfeelingsick.Thisisabehaviorissue!”sheproclaimed.Shesmoothedbackherhairandgatheredupherthings.Defeated,shesatdownandleftElijahalonetofrysiliconebacon.Theevaluatorhadonelastrequest,“Beforeyouleave,pleasecompletetheautismquestionnaire.”Iproceededtocompletetheform.Thesecondpsychologist,whowasobservingandtakingnotes,joinedElijahintheplaykitchenandlefthernotebookbehind.Iglancedoverandreadthewords“pinching”and“scratching.”Myworstfearswerecomingtrue.Myson’sbehaviorswerebeingdocumentedastoosevereforthegeneraleducationsetting.Idecidedtoaskforclarification.“So,yourcommentaboutthisbeingabehaviorissue…whatareyouimplying?”Thepsychologistrespondedbycriticizingourparentingskills.“Lastweekafterourmeeting,InoticedyourhusbandseemedoverlyconcernedwhenElijahkepttryingtoplayinapatchofdirtoutside.Hekepttryingtostophim.Playingindirtisnotabattleworthhavingbutpinchingandscratchingis.Kidswithdisabilitieshavetocontroltheirbehaviors;otherwisetheywouldallbelockedup.”

Thewords“lockedup”sentafiercerageofheatthroughmybody.Imagesofouradorableson,whostillplayedinthebathtubandcollectedtoytrains,werenowcloudedwithvisionsofhimasanadultbeingshackledandhandcuffedinaprisonforthementallyill.Iwantedtoaskforevenfurtherclarification,butIfearedthatemotionswouldoverwhelmme.Ireturnedhome,unabletoshakethe“lockedup”commentfrommymind.Theunfortunatefactsranthroughmyhead;Latinomalesaredisproportionatelyrepresentedintheprisonpopulation.4Oursonhastwostrikesagainsthim;heisLatinoanddisabled.Ifmychildwereblondeandblueeyed,wouldhisbehaviorsbeviewedinthesamemanner?Ifwewereawhitecouple,wouldprofessionalsstilljudgeourparentingskills?Iconsideredmakingacomplaint,butimaginedwewouldbewrittenoffasdisgruntledparentsplayingthe“racecard.”Intheend,wehadenoughincomeandeducationtofindtheproperresourcesforourson.Wehiredanattorneyandsecuredaclassroomplacementonwhichweagreed.NotallLatinofamilieshavethesocio-economicmeanstodothesamefortheirkids.WeneedmoreresourcesandfurtherresearchthataddressesthespecificneedsofdisabledLatinochildrenandtheirfamilies.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________1.See“AchievingEquityinSpecialEducation:History,Status,andCurrentChallenges”byRussellJ.Skibaetal.inExceptional

Children,Spring2008.2.IfoundthebookTheBigThumbkinonAmazonforabout$7.00andboughtacopyfortheteacher.3.ResearchshowsthatLatinoandAfricanAmericanboysarecriminalizedatanearlyageandaresuspendedfromschoolata

muchhigherratethanthattheirwhiteandfemalecounterparts.Seethe“CradletoPrisonPipelineCrisis”byMornaMurrayinPovertyandRace,July/August2005.

4.SeetheCradletoPrisonPipelineStatefactsheetsatthehttp://childrensdefense.org.

NatashiaLópez-Gómez(Sacramentoworkshop,2015)M.Ed.isagraduateofHarvardUniversityandtheUniversityofCalifornia,Berkeley.SheteachesLatinoStudiesandHumanServicesatNotreDamedeNamurUniversityinBelmont,CA.Shecanbereachedatngomez@ndnu.edu.

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JOURNEYSMY FEET WERE MADE FOR COBBLESTONES ByPatriciaCrisafulli

nearlymorningandlateafternoonwalksalongnarrow,windingstreetsinawesternSiciliantown,Igainedtraction.Movingconfidentlyandevennimblyalongunevenandoftensteepsurfaces,Idiscoveredthatmyfeetweremadeforcobblestones.

Perhapsmynarrowfeethavetherightkindofflexibilityormytoesandankleshavebeensufficientlystrengthenedbytwenty-plusyearsofrunning.Whateverthereason,minebecameajourneyoverexpansivehistory,allthewaybacktoclassicmythsoftheGreeksandtheTrojans,1aswellaspersonalnarrativethatlinksmetothelandfromwhichmyfather’sfamilyemigratedearlyinthepreviouscentury.MyjourneytoErice,awalledcityinthemountainsofwesternSicily,wasnotbydesign.IwastherefortheBreadLoafwriters’conference,aweekoftotalimmersionintomycraft.HadtheconferencebeenheldinLausanneorEdinburgh,Iwouldhavegonethere.ButEricewasthedestination,historicandwithmodestaccommodationsthatcommandedstunningviewsfrom2,500feet.Intheearlymorning,Ericebroodsincloudsthatcleartorevealpostcardviewsofanearbypyramidalmountainwadinginsky-bluewaterswheretheMediterraneanmeetstheAegean.ThesacredmountainonwhichEricewasfoundedsometwenty-fivecenturiesagoisunmistakablyfeminine,aprominentnippleofstoneonaroundedbreastoffertilesoildedicatedoverthecenturiestofemininedivinity.ANormancastlebuiltaroundtheyear1,100conqueredtheruinsofatempletothe

Romangoddess,Venus.BeforeVenus,thepeopleworshippedAstarte.Later,asChristianitywhitewashedtheancientdeities,Erice’sdivinefemininebecametheVirginMary,whoseimagedominatesthetown’smanyancientchurches.

1 After the Trojan War, the Phyrgians, known as the Elymi, came to Sicily and founded Segesta, site of a stunningly preserved, yet unfinished, Greek Temple, nearby Erice.

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Whateverhernameorform,IimaginedthecreativeSourceseepingoutofthosestreetsofErice.ButhowcouldI,aturistawhodidn’tevenspeakItalian,beanythingbutatrespasser?DidIhavearighttodrawinspirationfromaplaceIviewedthroughforeigneyes?MyanswercameonourlastdaywhenIstoppedinasmallshoptomakeapurchase.TheproprietorlookedatmynameonmyVisacardandexcitedlycalledforhiswife,Maria.NeitherspokemuchEnglish,andmyFrenchwaslittlehelp,butIcametounderstandthatMaria’smother’sbestfriendisCarmelaCrisafulli.“ButnoErice,”Mariatoldme.“Carmela,Messina.”“Yes!”Ireplied.“Mygrandfather,fatherofmyfather,Messina.”IthennamedthesmalltownineasternSicilyIhadheardmylatefathersaysooften,Casalvecchio.“Si!”Mariasquealed.Carmela,itseems,livesthere,too.Howevertangentialtheconnection,thiscoincidentalintersectionrecalledmyfather’stalesofhisfatherandgrandfather.Butasthestorycontinues,Iamwellawarethattheirsweatpaidforthewriter’slifeIpursue.Becauseofthem,IstandwhereIam,onfeetmadeforcobblestones.

ContributorandoccasionalLaToltecastaff,PatriciaCrisafulli(Chicagoworkshop,2013)ispursuingaMasterofFineArtsdegreeatNorthwesternUniversity.Apublishedauthor,sheisalsothefounderofwww.FaithHopeandFiction.com.

PatriciaCrisafulli2016

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JOURNEYSTEMPTING MUCH

EXCERPT FROM KNITTING THE FOGByClaudiaD.Hernández

amáwasalwaysrunningawayfromsomething,someone:herpresent;herpast;thehungerthatchasedher;Papá’s

drunkennessandobsessiveness;hermother’sabandonment;theheatofMayuélasorcoldnessofTactic;herbeauty;herlonghair.IrememberwhenMamáwouldbatheConsueloandmetogetherinthepila,awashbasinmadeoutofcement.IwasfourandConsuelowassix.Wedidn’thavehotwater;ourpilawasoutinthepatiosurroundedbytheshadeofthetamarindotrees.Thewatercamestraightfromtheriver,coldandfresh.Mamáneverallowedustodrinkthewater.“It’sstale!You’llgrowasolitaria,atapeworm,inyourtummy!”shewouldsay.Thewashbasinwasfilledwithwater.Ithadtwosinksoneachside.Onesinkhadaribbedsurface,anditwasusuallyusedforhand-washinglaundry.Theothersinkwasfordoingdishes.Itssurfacewassmooth.MamáwouldsitbothConsueloandmeontheribbedsinksothatwewouldn’tslip.Thepilawashighfromtheground.“Sindyyyy!”Mamáwouldyell.“Helpmerinsethegirls.”Sindywasmyoldestsister,eightyearsolderthanI.SheactedlikemysecondmotherwhenshebabysatmeandwhenMamálefttoElNorteforthreeyears.ThereweretimesIhatedherforthat.

Mamá’sfingernailswerealwayslongandsharp.Shescrubbedmyheadfastandfuriouslywiththecoladecaballoshampoo.TheMane‘nTailshampoowouldburnmyeyes.Wehadn’theardofbabyshampoointhosedays.Sindy’sjobwastodropbucketsofwateronmyhead.IfeltlikeIwasdrowningeverytimethewaterwouldhitthecrownofmyhead.Ialwaysmanagedtobreathethroughmymouthasthesee-through,soapyveilofwatercoveredmyface.Afterthebath,MamáwoulddressusupinsummerdressestokeepusfreshinthescaldingheatofMayuélaswheretheceibatreesandmangotreesbloomedwithtenacity.Mamákeptusclean.Shefeduseveryday,threetimesaday:huevitostibios,soft-boiledeggs,sweetbreadwithacupofmilkoraCoca-Cola.SometimesshefedusNestleCerelacbyitself,completelydry.Itwasmyfavorite.

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IrememberMamáwasalwaysmoody.Ididn’tknowwhy.“Youtwobetternotgetdirty!”sheyelledafterbathingus.Ilovedplayingoutsidewiththemud.Onthatsummerday,themudfeltespeciallycoldandrefreshingonmyskin.Nobodywasaroundtokeepaneyeonme.SindyandConsuelowereinsidethehousewithMamádoingchores.Idecidedtotastethemud.Igrewuplisteningtostoriesabouthowfour-year-oldSindylovedtoeatclumpsofdirtfromTíaZoila’skitchenadobewalls.IwasfourandIwantedtoseeformyselfwhySindyloveditsomuch.TíaZoilawasMamá’saunt,butwealsocalledherTíaZoila,auntZoila

IknewexactlywhatIwasdoing,andIknewitwaswrong.Sindygotbeatupmanytimesforeatingdirt.Ilookedaroundonemoretimebeforepickingupahandfulofmud.Iwasnervous.IwasterrifiedofMamá.Ihidmydirtyhandsbehindmyback,andbeforeIknewit,Ifoundmyselfgrindingrockswithmybabyteeth.Twosecondslater,Ispateverythingoutandrantotheouthousebathroom.Noonesawme.Icouldn’tgetridofthesalty-chalkytasteinmymouth.Ispatandspateverywhereinthedarknessofthetoilet,alloverthedirtfloor,untilmymouthfeltdry.Eventually,Ibegantoappreciatethepetrichorscenttrappedinmymouth.IfinallyunderstoodwhySindydesiredclumpsofdirtinhermouth.Itwasadifferenttypeofhungerwebothhad.

ClaudiaD.HernándezwasaLaToltecaZinephotographywinner.SheholdsanMFAincreativewritingandisthefounderoftheongoingproject,www.Todaysrevolutionarywomenofcolor.com.

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aZine

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Favorite Book Picks for Summer

Octavio Quintanillameasures displacementwith language and grappleswiththelongingtobeginanew,toreturntowhatwasleftunsaid,undone.Redemptionisnotalwayspossibleinthesepoems,butthereisalwaysasenseofhopeguidedbythepoet’sdistinctvoice.

ThisisthefirstEnglishtranslationofthepoetryofJoséMaríaHinojosa,apoet of Spain’s famed Generation of ’27. Hinojosa continued to writesurrealist poetry until his assassination in 1936. His work disappearedfrom Spanish culture until the end of the 20th century. Black Tulipscontainsaselectionofhisentirebodyofwork.

Thedebutcollectionofpoetryfeatureswritingfromthefirstdecadeofhercareer.ThisisTex-MexlifeontheborderfromtheperspectiveofayoungChicana writing herself into being. It introduces a unique transculturalfeministviewpointexploringculture,music,andplace.

Rant,Chant,ChismeAmaliaOrtiz

WingsPress,Paperback$16

IfIGoMissingOctavioQuintanilla

SloughPress,Paperback$15.95

BlackTulips:TheSelectedPoemsofJoséMaríaHinojosaTranslatedbyMarkStatmanUnoPress,Paperback$18.95

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Chicago Tribune newspaperman Rick Kogan celebrates the history andcharacters of theWindy City's famous Billy Goat Tavern, including historicandcontemporaryphotographs.Thestorydetailshowhardwork,antics,andgoodfortunebroughtthecityastillbelovedtavern.

This is the first critical volume devoted to the analysis of John Rechy, aMexican American novelist, dramatist, and literary critic. Scholarscollaborated on a collection that addresses questions such as Chicanismo,sexualidentities,urbangeographies,andqueersubjectivities.

Anneinvitesusonauniquepathofdiscoverytodebunkandtranscendtheexpected norms for middle-aged women. This memoir explores whatoccurswhenthebody,mindandspiritjointogetherthroughthepracticesof yoga andburlesque. The stories and insights are inspiration for livinglifeauthentically.

TheTextualOutlaw:ReadingJohnRechyinthe21stCenturyEditedbyManuelM.Martín-RodriguezandBethHernandez-Jason

UniversidadDeAlcalá,Paperback15€

Burlesque,Yoga,SexandLove:AMemoirofLifeUndertheAlbuquerqueSun

AnneKeyGoddessInk,Paperback$18.95

AChicagoTavern:AGoat,aCurse,andtheAmericanDreamRickKogan

LakeClaremontPress,Paperback$10

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LaToltecaZine2016

Until Soon!

¡Hasta la vista!