- from "We Are the Only Animals in the House" by Tara Zembrano
Why is it then that the first time I heard the term “writer of color” (WoC), I didn’t automatically apply this category to myself? Is it because my mother’s side of the family, while possessing their own treasure trove of stories, are as white as Wonder Bread? Or because the un poquito Spanish I can stammer my way through is what I remember from college rather than my childhood home?
You run away. You could turn and stay.
I choose to stay. I can’t give up and won’t because I hear this song and the sounds crash over me like the words did when I first wrote them.
Rituals & Words to Honor the Dead
1. Start out going west toward N Academy St. You do not have a GPS or a smartphone. You do have these printed Rand-McNally directions and a compass shining red on the rear-view mirror: E, S, W, N. You know you are going north. Follow the N on the mirror and you’ll be fine. 2. […]
“I tell you, ah girl,” said Auntie Mel, “once you give birth your entire world will change. All the things you thought were important—career, money, even your husband lah—become secondary. Motherhood will become you. Listen to ah yi.”
My mother couldn’t help but chime in. “Yeah yeah. Once I had you everything else melted away.”
Cruz makes clear the dire need to claim one’s place in class struggle and to work towards a communal negation that counteracts the assimilation to a culture that attempts to sweep so many under the rug of its system.