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• Ca l a v er as y O f r en das 2 0 16 •

November 2016, Vol. 29 Issue 9

San Antonio, Tejas

¡ Siempre gana la muerte ! Death always wins !

He who lives badly . . .

ends badly!

It’s over!

La Voz de Esperanza November 2016 vol. 29 Issue 9 Editor Gloria A. Ramírez Design Elizandro Carrington Cover Art Mary Agnes Rodríguez Calaveras y Ofrendas

Esther Cantú, Martha Caso, Paty de la Garza, Tomás Ybasrra Frausto, Mary Jane Garza, Sally Gaytán-Baker, Ana María González, Anita González, Pamela Michelle Herrera, Alice-Catherine Jennings, Beatríz Macín, Josi Méndez-Negrete, Rosemary Reyna Martínez, Eliza M. Pérez, Kamala Platt, Jessica Roca, David Rodgers, Norma L. Rodríguez, Enrique Sánchez, Rita E. Urquijo-Ruiz, Ana Ortiz Valera, Brad Veloz, Yoly Zentella

La Voz Mail Collective

Dudley Brooks, Alicia Arredondo, Alma R. Dueñas, Claudia Enriquez, Charlie Esperiqueta, Mary Esperiqueta, Vanessa Esquivel, Sally Gaytán-Baker, Jelaine Lara, Ray McDonald, Angie Merla, Ray & Lucy Pérez, Mary A. Rodriguez, Mike Sánchez, Guadalupe Segura, Roger Singler, D. L. Stokes, Cynthia Szungog, Sandra Torres, Estefany Valdes, Rebeca Velasco, Lynn Watson

Esperanza Director Graciela I. Sánchez

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9•

Esperanza Staff


Imelda Arismendez, Elizandro Carrington, Paty de la Garza, Jessica González, Eliza Pérez, Gianna Rendón, Natalie Rodríguez, René Saenz, Susana Segura, Amelia Valdez

Conjunto de Nepantleras —Esperanza Board of Directors— Rachel Jennings, Amy Kastely, Jan Olsen, Ana Lucía Ramírez, Gloria A. Ramírez, Rudy Rosales, Tiffany Ross, Lilliana Saldaña, Nadine Saliba, Graciela I. Sánchez, Lillian Stevens • We advocate for a wide variety of social, economic & environmental justice issues. • Opinions expressed in La Voz are not necessarily those of the Esperanza Center.

La Voz de Esperanza is a publication of

Esperanza Peace & Justice Center 922 San Pedro, San Antonio, TX 78212 210.228.0201 • fax 1.877.327.5902 Inquiries/Articles can be sent to: Articles due by the 8th of each month Policy Statements

* We ask that articles be visionary, progressive, instructive & thoughtful. Submissions must be literate & critical; not sexist, racist, homophobic, violent, or oppressive & may be edited for length. * All letters in response to Esperanza activities or articles in La Voz will be considered for publication. Letters with intent to slander individuals or groups will not be published.

Welcome to the 18th edition of Literary Calaveras and Ofrendas in the November issue of La Voz de Esperanza made possible by folks like you who have learned with us how to honor the dead through the written word of literary ofrendas—be it prose, poetry, epitaphs or cuentos. And, with the Calavera poems we take life seriously or not so seriously by targeting politicos, personalities or problems of the day with a tragic or comical demise giving vent to our frustrations. We also delight in sending friends, family or foes off with La Katrina in any one of her many forms (in Spanish)—my favorite being “La Igualadora” [“the great equalizer”]. Indeed, no matter how much any presidential candidate says they represent everyone, only La Katrina truly treats us all equitably—taking us, Art: Erik De Luna one and all, when SHE chooses! The Days of the Dead have endured a lot of commercialism but I believe that we still honor the memory of José Guadalupe Posada who immortalized Calaveras, calacas and La Catrina through publications like ours. This is especially true of the artists and collectives like La Calaca Press who continue to press on with new iterations. Gracias to all who have knowingly or unknowingly contributed to continuing this literary and artful tradition in La Voz. Bienvenidos a la edición decimoctavo de Calaveras y Ofrendas Literarias en La Voz de Esperanza de Noviembre, 2016. Hemos seguido con esta tradición porque ustedes nos apoyan cada año con poesía, cuentos, epitafíos, o otros escritos para los Días de los muertos. Con las Calaveras Literarias nos disquitamos de lo que pasa en el mundo o gozamos la muerte cómica de un querido o enemigo sin hacer daño a ninguno. La Katrina toma muchas formas en la cultura Mexicana—mi favorita es “La Igualadora.” Mas que cualquier candidato para la presidencia ella sabe tratar a todos igual—arrastrando a todos al pozo cuando ELLA le da la gana. Las tradiciones artisticas y literarias que empezaron con Don José Guadalupe Posada continuan en paginas como estas y ustedes, los escritores y artistas, han hecho un trabajo de aquellas otro año mas. Mil Art: Stella Marroquin gracias y. ¡Felicidades! —Gloria A. Ramírez

Flying With Wet Wings For Martin Wallner 1955-2001 If we could calibrate the weight of our sorrow, our grief we could shrug it, shuck it, shake it like dogs swirl rain off coats soggy from a wet walk. We would then be light, downright giddy from the sense of loss of the sense of loss. I watched a chevron of geese Fly through heavy rain

their inner gyros set for south. How hard, I thought to fly with water-weighted wings. They’ve no alternative to nature’s flight plan. And so they fly. The chevron wavered, the leader dropped back for respite. Another took Its place And they were gone. —Marilyn Wallner

ATTENTION VOZ READERS: If you have a mailing address correction please send it to lavoz@ If you want to be removed from the La Voz mailing list, for whatever reason, please let us know. La Voz is provided as a courtesy to people on the mailing list of the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center. The subscription rate is $35 per year ($100 for institutions). The cost of producing and mailing La Voz has substantially increased and we need your help to keep it afloat. To help, send in your subscriptions, sign up as a monthly donor, or send in a donation to the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center. Thank you. -GAR VOZ VISION STATEMENT: La Voz de Esperanza speaks for many individual, progressive voices who are gente-based, multi-visioned and milagro-bound. We are diverse survivors of materialism, racism, misogyny, homophobia, classism, violence, earth-damage, speciesism and cultural and political oppression. We are recapturing the powers of alliance, activism and healthy conflict in order to achieve interdependent economic/ spiritual healing and fuerza. La Voz is a resource for peace, justice, and human rights, providing a forum for criticism, information, education, humor and other creative works. La Voz provokes bold actions in response to local and global problems, with the knowledge that the many risks we take for the earth, our body, and the dignity of all people will result in profound change for the seven generations to come.

Cuanto Lio

What a Mess!

El año dos mil dieciséis es toda una coladera Tantos agujeros, los politicos con sus mañas, Quien consulta con La Catrina—¡buen remédio! Si no fuera por ella, ¿Imaginense la gran Querella? —Enrique Sánchez

The year two thousand sixteen is a strain So many holes, politicians and their dirty tricks Those that consult with La Catrina—a good remedy! If it weren’t for her, imagine the number of protests! —Translation by Gloria A. Ramírez

Vida Falaz ¿Es verdad, es verdad que se vive en la tierra? ¡No para siempre aquí: un momento en la tierra! Si es jade, se hace astillas, si es oro, se destruye; si es un plumaje de quetzal, se rasga. ¡No para siempre aquí: un momento en la tierra! ­—Submitted by Martha Caso from Cantares Mexicanos de Nezahuacóyotl; compilada y traducida por Ángel M. Garibay K.

Oh, Days of Dead, the dying fall when night follows night of the food of love for the dead and those who are dying. Give me an excess of it: the bread of the dead, the marigolds and sugar skulls. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds, play on brass bands down Alcalá to the zócalo and on and on to the Panteón. It receiveth as the sea all who enters here. I hear that strain again, again the dying fall. How fresh the small wild apples are and sweet the nicuatole though not so sweet now as they were before. Life is full of shape and fancy and its escape is at La Catrina’s wit, her whim. O Friend, where else hap our time commit than such a fantastical place. Oaxaca. —Alice-Catherine Jennings *contains words and phrases from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night.

La Catrina de la Casa Azul

Soy Frida, mujer de espíritu bohemio. En vida conocí el amor y el dolor. Con los años uno se hizo del otro; pues esa fue mi cruz. Mi tristeza dió luz a mis obras, las cuales son espejos de mi angustia y soledad. Pero La Muerte se me acercó, me liberó de la vida y me hizo inmortal.

I am Frida, a woman of Bohemian spirit. In life I knew love and lived its pain. Through the years one became the other; Art: Stella Marroquin such was my cross to bear. Sorrow gave birth to my works of art, which are a reflection of my anguish and solitude. Death came along, took my hand, liberated me from Life and made me immortal.

Soy mujer, artista, espíritu libre, icono de culto y la Catrina de mi Casa Azul, el sitio de mi nacimiento, mi muerte y mi inmortalidad. Art: Beatriz Vásquez Vengan todos a Coyoácan a visitarme. Aquí los espero el Día de los Muertos en la Casa Azul con ponche, pan de muerto y una gran pachanga.Que chistoso, ¿no?

I am a woman, an artist, a free spirit, a cultural icon and the Catrina of my Casa Azul, the place of my birth, my death and my after-life. Come, visit me in Coyoácan. I’ll be waiting here for you at Casa Azul on the Day of the Dead with some ponche, pan de muerto and a gran pachanga What a riot, don’t you agree?

—Norma L. Rodriguez

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9

¿Quien? me compra calaveras? Son de la nueva invención Hay de bonitas y feas que han muerto ya de un torzón, son elegantes y finas a tlaco doy el montón de las que usan crinolinas y otra que doy de pilón —Popular (submitted by Tomás Ybarra Frausto)

36 Hours Oaxaca, Mexico*


2016 Litera ry Ofrenda a Don Alberto Aguilera Valadez Tengo aquí una veladora que le vamos a prender a la virgencita de Pátzcuaro. Yo sé que me mentarías la madre por recordarte en la muerte, pero mejor pretendamos que las veladoras se las prendemos a Michoacán entero. Te tengo aquí esta ofrenda, con todos los instrumentos del Art: www.chidoychale mariachi y de la orquesta que siempre supiste utilizar como gran maestro cuando vivo. Y aun muerto sigues gran maestro. Y aun muerto tus arreglos siguen vivos y llenan de ilusión. Te dejo la ilusión que siempre tuve de irte a ver en vivo porque nunca se me hizo atender uno

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9•



de tus elaborados conciertos. Esos espectáculos que le recordaban a todo el que atendía para qué era la vida. Aquí te dejo mi jotería, esa que México y el resto de Latinoamérica se hizo de la vista gorda para no reconocer en ti y en tu talento. Esa que viviste en el escenario sin tener que responderle a nadie. Esa jotería que muchos alabaron pretendiendo que no era precisamente eso. Te dejo esta ofrenda de flores, de humildad y de elegancia como tu misma esencia. Te dejo esta ofrenda en mis mejores ropas, para que veas cuanto te respeto. Te dejo esta ofrenda de malagana porque yo tampoco quiero recordarte en la muerte, pero para que mentar madres si en lugar podemos hecharnos un tequila y cantar El Noa Noa? Te dejo esta ofrenda que dice gracias Juan Gabriel y gracias a la vida. —Ana Ortiz Valera

Brother, Oh Brother Brother, oh brother Where are you? Tell me, show me. Are you sitting on the moon? If so send me light, Just not blue. Pink or yellow better, To guide me thru. Are you jammin’ with Mambo John? Playing catch con el Eddie Or cruising with cousin Raul? Better yet, fishing with Buelo and Buela Like we used to At Corpitos and Loyola? The things we used to do Hopscotch and camping, When we were kids—me and you. Always in the band, From Gillette Jr. High To A&I And Lincoln Center, too! Moving fast, iron hands In the spotlight And center stage Your love of music Blasting thru. —Mary Jane Garza

— Juan

Arturo Lomas Garza 9/12/50 - 5/2/16

Calavera Sculpture, 2014 Mary Jane Garza

The Esperanza staff and buena gente extend our sympathies to the family and friends of María de Socorro “Choco” González Meza who died unexpectedly on October 9, 2016. Born in Zaragoza, Coahuila, Mexico, she grew up in South Texas eventually becoming a citizen who devoted her life to fighting for voting rights and equal representation of communities of color. A political organizer on the local and national level, she was recently involved in the Hillary Clinton campaign and had worked as chief of staff for District 5 Councilwoman Shirley Gonzalez. Our condolences to her husband, Daniel and their children Danny and Ivalis. Que en pa descanse.

Ofrendas 2016 Fidel Veloz

My elder brother was a lifetime resident of San Antonio and was named after my paternal grandfather. In June 2016 at the age of 82, he died at home surrounded by his seven children and his many grandchildren. My brother, just like my father, loved baseball and especially the San Antonio Missions. After 40 years with the Yellow Cab Company, he retired and enjoyed spending time with his family and especially his grandkids. He was a very private person but had a great sense of humor. He would probably not want me to write anything about him. These few lines are a small tribute to a loving and caring person, my brother, Juan Fidel Veloz. —Brad Veloz

A Mother’s Love


Art: Catalina Delgado-Trunk

Ando por rumbo ajeno. Pues, es que me fui pa’ el Norte, Dejando atras mi querida tierra. Pero siempre llevaré las tradiciones En mi corazón y mi alma. Recuerdos y cositas Que son homenaje a mi Madrina. Pongo papel picado por aqui Y algunas velitas por alla. Acomodo calaveras, fotos, el Rosario. Y flores con la fragancia de cempasuchil. Llegan todos a celebrar. Ni se nota la diferencia Entre la Vida y la Muerte. Siempre escucho la voz de mi Madrina. Su presencia esta siempre conmigo... —Anita González

I watched her as she walked away Not a hug or a kiss, just a wave goodbye. Our love was mentally understood Although the words were never said, I knew she loved me just the same. . At 98 and ill, she needed me. I cared for her so tenderly. One day before I left, she said “I love you” mija. Surprised—I said I loved her, too. She left us not long after that A part of me went with her. I lost my mom but not the memory Those words she said to me Are etched inside my heart. —Esther Cantú

BELOVED FATHER Jacinto “Chito” Efrain Eguia Born July 9, 1927 to Tules Eguia. Married, had one daughter who died shortly after birth. Married Jovita Salinas in 1962. Died of congestive heart failure, 2012.

BELOVED MOTHER Jovita Salinas Eguia Born February 15, 1927. Married Jacinto Efrain Eguia in 1963. Worked many years at Audie Murphy Hospital cafeteria until her retirement. Died in 2013 of complications with congestive heart failure.

BELOVED UNCLE Ernest García, born April 17, 1923. Married Maria Benavides who worked for Texas State Optical as Office Manager for many years.

BELOVED GRANDMOTHER Sista O. Salinas born February 28, 1898. Had 6 children: María, Servando, Jovita, Vita, Esequiel and Susie. Raised 2 grandchildren: George and Rachel. Worked for Jefferson High School When WPA hired mostly women.

BELOVED SON Ernesto Luis Martínez Born August 11, 1987 to Rachel and Juan Manuel Martínez. Graduated from South San High School Worked at San Antonio State Hospital Adolescent Unit. Died February 26, 2004 at 27 years of age.

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9

A single income parent before her time She was a nurse and sold Avon. Proud of her uniform so clean and white She took the two o’clock Prospect Hill to be at Robert B. Green by three.

Mi Familia

5 Art: Catalina Delgado-Trunk

Mi papi José de la Cruz Zentella • 1910-2007 Continued from Page 5 Beloved Grandmother Tules Eguia, original owner of La Chiquita Bakery. Widowed at the age of 28. Worked hard and invested her money in real estate.

Beloved Aunt Maria Benavides García Born September 16, 1923. Married Ernest García. Never had children. Was a devoted daughter who cared for her mother and various nephews and nieces. Worked at Ft. Sam Houston cafeteria.

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9•

Beloved Mother-in-Law Adelina Z. Martínez, Agujita, Coahuila, Mexico


Beloved Father–in-Law, Samuel Martínez, Aguijita, Coahuila, Mexico

Beloved Granddaughter Rachel Stephanie Jiménez-Hernández Stef was born in 1983. Graduated from Churchill High School. Attended college.Wanted to be a doctor. She worked as an Apartment manager at Marbach Apts. Died in an auto accident in 2013.

Beloved Friend Mary Louise Aguillard

Beloved Granddaughter Rachel Stephanie Jiménez-Hernández

Ahora estarás corriendo por los muelles de Progreso Jugando con tu perrito del que tanto me contabas Estarás feliz como niño, libre y curioso Tirándole a las olas con conchitas que encuentras en la arena ¿Te acuerdas de mi, papi? Te he sentido, a veces, muy cerca, como la noche de mariachis que me tocaste el brazo. Sentí tanta felicidad al saber que estabas sentado a mi lado. ¿Te gustaron los mariachis? Eran los favoritos de mamí. Juega, papi, juega. Sigue feliz que aquí te espero. Soñando en que me digas—“me acuerdo de ti, Yoly, aunque este jugando en los muelles de Progreso. ¡Si, de veras, me acuerdo de ti!” —Yoly Zentella • Las Vegas, NM


My Tia Gloria died at the age of 26 in the spring of ‘65. At that time there were no medical advancements for kidney failure; she had given birth to 3 sons at a very young age, taking a toll on her young, frail body. The day of her burial it was decided by our parents that we’d spend the night at my grandparents’ house; I was only 8 years old and my prima Adela was 6. As the adults took all the bedrooms, Adela and I were told to sleep “en el Sof-A” in the living room. Preparations for our sleeping accommodations were made and we lay down for the night. I drifted into sleep and started to dream of the events of the day, when suddenly I heard a blood-curdling scream come from Adela which jolted me from my sleep.My Tios and Tias ran to the living room where we lay; they turned on the lights and asked Adela what happened. (Since I was next to her they gave me a look like, “What did you do this time, Rosita?”). Adela was shaking and couldn’t stop crying, so Ama, our grandmother, prepared her a “tesito“; she drank it and after a few minutes, she calmed down, and explained what had happened. She said that after lying down she saw something in the adjoining hallway that caught her eye. She described it as a white mist that turned into “a lady in white” floating down from the ceiling. The apparition saw us on the couch and started “floating” towards the sofa; then she stopped at the edge, stared down for a moment at both of us, and was about to bend down, when Adela got scared and yelled out. As Adela ended her story she looked at the wall behind my Tia Lupe and stared for a time in astonishment. They asked her what was wrong; she pointed her little finger towards a picture on the wall and everyone in the room turned and looked, as she said, that the woman in the picture was “the lady in white”. It was a picture of my Tia Gloria in her wedding dress with a beautiful smile on her face! Ama let out a sigh and sat down shaking her head in disbelief. She said that a few minutes before the excitement, she felt someone kiss her on the cheek, she opened her eyes and no one was there. She then said in her calm, voice that it WAS Tia Gloria that had come to visit and gave us “La Despedida” (the last goodbye)! LOVE CONQUERS ALL! LOVE CONQUERS DEATH! —Rosemary Reyna Martinez

CALAVERAS 2016 Soñar no cuesta nada. Con tu cara de rosita y con tus ojos vivitos

y tus manos re-chiquitas pareces un angelito —Popular

Art: Mary Agnes Rodríguez

No estén tristes, tampoco sean pesimistas; ¡Al alba Raza! Muchas decisiones que hacer, a ver que pasa Otra vez, a votar, ¡A Calacas que le importa! Ella viene a recoger a los de la vida corta Uno, el cual ella quiere, es el que odia a Hilaria Este hombre habla mucho, a ver si la Catrina lo calla —Enrique Sánchez

Don’t be sad, don’t be pessimistic; ¡Rise up, people! So many decisions to be made, let’s see what happens Again, it’s time to vote! Death doesn’t care! She comes to take in and cut lives short! One, whom she wants, hates la Hillary. This man talks alot, let’s see if Catrina shuts him up! —Translated by Gloria A. Ramírez

Andaba la flaca rondando asomándose por la ventana. A quién andaría buscando por los rumbos de Esperanza.

Temeroso se asomó Elizandro y vio a La Calavera tequileando. Murió no por sentirse amenazado sino del coraje de no haber sido convidado.

Cuando Graciela llegó a Esperanza no había nadie en el salón, subió, bajó, entró, salió, y solo su eco le respondió.

Arrugaba la nariz y achicaba los ojos al ver a tanta gente feliz cuando ella prefiere el sollozo.

Asignando tareas apareció Amelia cuando vio en su silla a La Catrina —A ti te toca atender la cantina—le dijo y la mandó directa a la cocina.

La Parca entró discreta se había vestido con elegancia, presentó sus respetos a la jefa y la invitó a acompañarla a la vagancia.

La distrajeron de pronto unas risas que se oían en la oficina ¿Quiénes serán estas canijas? A éstas sí que me las llevo a misa.

La Parca estaba sorprendida de que Amelia no la reconociera y sintiéndose ofendida se la llevó sin dejar que se despidiera.

Baile y baile estaba Eliza cuando la agarró La Catrina —Vámonos que llevo prisa Y Eliza murió en un ataque de risa.

Jessy estaba preocupada porque los planos no le cuadraban cuando La Huesuda malhumorada se la llevó con todo y colada.

Sin darse cuenta de nada cuidando el agua andaba Gianna La Calaca para llevársela la dejó morir ahogada.

Buscando un recuerdo de su visita La Catrina pasó por MujerArte. Cuando vio a tantas jovencitas se las llevó a todas con un mecate.

Como a media mañana silbe y silbe llegó Susana. La Huesuda la esperaba escondida y se la llevó para hacerla su consentida

Gloria estaba concentrada buscando el sinónimo de una palabra, —Ah! Tú eres la de La Voz y con todo y pluma se la cargó La Flaca.

La pachanga era en el panteón había música, baile y champurrado. Estaban todos en el reventón, y Graciela bailaba de lado a lado. Eran las cinco de la mañana cuando La Huesuda mostró su enfado. —Con ustedes no hay pa’ cuando, ahí los dejo con su relajo. Ahora todo San Antonio extraña al equipo de Esperanza Pero cuando quieren armar bailongo, espacio en el panteón no falta. —Beatriz Macín

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9

Calaveras para Esperanza



Art: Beatriz Vásquez

—forgiven —forgotten.

—Eliza M. Pérez

The skinny spirit has chosen Him and she will take him This man causes division in the nation. Human rights, women, blacks, the Mexicans In all, an infinity of people and things he does judge ¡Catrina, take him, already! —Translation: Gloria A. Ramirez

La espiritiflautica ya lo escogió y se lo llevará Este hombre causa división en la nación Los derechos humanos, la mujer, el negro, el mejicano, En fin, una infinidad de gentes y cosas que el juzga ¡Que se lo lleve la Catrina, ya! —Enrique Sánchez

El Desatado | The Untied


La Muralla | The Wall

I’ll find them when the sun goes black.

Holding the hearts of every person that’s disappeared I’ll hide them within my exoskeleton while mothers light candles all around me, praying to the old gods. I don’t care about the message or the rules you make, México,

When they teach oceanography in the future, will they ask you how the seas turned red? Herido México, will you bite your tongue instead? Hiding the skeletons under new palaces you’ll burn.

Millions of years from now, after a nuclear war, when Ayotzinapa is a speck in the Holocene era, will you come to me again? Hoping I’ve forgotten the blood on your hands?


No estas escuchando cuando te digo que ya me canse. I return to you as a ghost, memories of your warmth the only bright future I see. You feed me lies expecting me to swallow them whole like a dung beetle, but I won’t. Me envías mensajes a través de tus políticos tell me the people at fault will be dealt with

Querido México,

Querido Herido

de La Voz de Esperanza

Porque el país va de pique, según todos los racistas,

Ahora no traen Art: Artemio Rodríguez capucha ya estos grupos no se esconden Trump nomás desembucha y todos le corresponden

El odio anda muy suelto contra gays e inmigrantes y siguen quedando absueltos misóginos aterrantes

En estos días de lucha por todos lados atacan a gente buena que es mucha los racistas se destapan

Salerosa y elegante Calaca hizo atropellos y a Trump, el más arrogante se lo llevó de los cabellos ­­—Rita E. Urquijo-Ruiz

“—Pues ‘hora sí chiquititos así los quería agarrar la mayoría güeritos nadie se me ha de escapar”

Art: Mary Agnes Rodríguez

Somber children gather outside stare at the miniature coffin la maestra holds in her hands. Silently watch her shovel dirt on their heritage, wonder how they will speak without a tongue. —Sally Gaytán-Baker

La maestra dice —Spanish is dead. Mestizo child hands tremble, write palabras en español on pieces of paper amor, abuela, familia gently folded maestra, escuela, odio crumbled, angrily tossed into teacher’s cardboard box.

El Entierro| The Burial

—Translation: Gloria A. Ramírez

Imagine walling off all the Southern border This occurred to a loudmouthed trumpeter Will we never comprehend that walls Are to be taken down and fields left to be free? Catarina took down this guy and In his grave he is now fenced in! What an end!

¡Imaginense cercar toda la frontera del Sur! A un hocicón Trompudo se le ocurrió ésta tontería ¿A caso nunca llegaremos a comprender que los murosse derriban y el campo queda libre? Al tipo lo recogió la Catrina y alrededor de su tumba todo está cercada. ¡Que Fin! —Enrique Sánchez

Pero poco dura el gusto cuando la maldad domina “—¡déjenlos yo los ajusto!” exclamó Doña Catrina

Aunque a la porra los mande ahí siguen alborotados y su riqueza se expande todos lo hemos notado

lo quieren como cacique creyéndose economistas

EL ODIO ANDA SUELTO | Hate is loose

Tarde o temprano el sufrir del pobre y pisoteado tendrá la gloria del triunfo de corazón quieto, la riqueza producida que generaciones han deseado sigue en la entraña del que sabe que el culpable es Peña Nieto. — David Rodgers, 5 de octubre de 2016

La memoria es larga y segura como la Calaca Art: Lalo Alcaraz el mundo entero también lo siente y lo sabe, millones de reclamos sin fronteras lo destaca vjunto con las conclusiones donde la mentiras no cabe.

El Pueblo sigue llorando y reclamando las institucionales injusticias de Ayotzinapa, dos años de mentiras que siguen esquivando la esperanza de cuarenta y tres futuros se escapa.

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9


Art: joel rendon | artemio rodriguez



Tarde y con sueño

Mortificada ella estaba, una Calavera intentaba escribir. El tiempo se acababa y las palabras nomas no querían salir.

El nuevo estudio de Mujer Artes

Chamba, chamacos y el que hacer, apenas hay tiempo para comer. Estrés, cuentas y deberes. Semanas y meses se pasan en puro correr. Quejándose de la vida estaba, una Calavera tratando de escribir. Entonces la Santa Flaca De golpe se hizo sentir.

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9•

Mientras tanto en otro sitio, hay un nuevo estudio ya, con todo lo necesario, para el Arte ahí explayar.

Harto me gusta este asunto, de con tierra construir, dijo tronando los huesos, para luego proseguir...

Ahí vibran las Mujeres y muchas almas más, esperando dulcemente, por el día que vendrá, cuando UNO seamos todos, viviendo la eternidad.

Art: MujerArtes

Dedicado a toda la buena gente que participan en éste bello proyecto. Gracias a todos. —Paty de la Garza

Es así como el estudio, a medias se abandonó, solo el viento corre aprisa, en ese oscuro rincón.

Le dio mil y una razones, para su vida prolongar. Pero Ella dijo: —Nones! A la Eternidad te voy a llevar.—


Por los rumbos del West Side, corren muy fuertes rumores, de que en una construcción de adobe la Muerte se apareció.

Este proyecto me late y en seguida decidió, a todos los implicados , llevarse para el panteón.

Elegante y con puro en mano imponente se le acercó. Sus súplicas fueron en vano y al Campo Santo se la llevó.

Art: Stella Marroquin

“Un favor Doña Catrina, solo le quiero pedir: Déjeme termino está Ofrenda, que a Gloria prometí”. —Acaso para La Voz una Calavera vas a escribir?— “Pos eso intento, si usted me lo quisiera permitir” —Nomas por esta te la paso! A La Esperanza se le quiere bien No te quejes y hazme caso: Más trabajo y menos feis “— Temblando me despierto, rete cerquita la vi. “Ay nanita! Fue solo un sueño! Y en chinga está Calavera escribí.” —Jessica Rocca

Calavera para Mujer Artes

Art: Beatriz Vásquez

En Mujer Artes un día, la Catrina se apareció, preguntando quien hacía, calacas de colección.

Ponte el delantal y aprende, tus propias calacas a hacer, y en el Mercado de Paz, seguro las haz de vender.

Tengo una mejor idea, dijo tras reflexionar.

Sorprendida y sin chistar, la huesuda obedeció, y desde entonces, hasta hoy, Mujer Artes cuenta ya, con una integrante más.

En lugar de las calacas, contenta me he de llevar, Tremenda colección de artistas, al panteón a laborar. Alto! Catrina ladina, dijo Imelda sin dudar, las mujeres aquí brillan, no te las vas a llevar.

Esperamos que la flaca, no se canse de crear, y nos deje disfrutar, por toda la eternidad.

By Kamala Platt there—and epitomizes our city’s history— our family and barrio histories that have been made there. And then Dudley Brooks nailed a critical aspect of this discussion with his 7/11 shopping bag show-n-tell presentation that spoke to nuestra futuro: another 7/11 feeds chronic illness and untimely death for those from “my West Side of San Anto… and all Chicano neighborhoods … ;/ [where] somewhere…someone remembers…” (borrowing a line from raúlrsalinas’ famous “Un Trip”) The nightmare image of the Malt House interior turned into a 7/11 makes “my heart pump saccharine sangre” (thanks to Amalia Ortiz’ ode to the Big Red Diablo in “Amor Peligroso,” for that apt line). Though I wanted to hear the story from the perspective of the family who has fed the Westside so richly over the decades, I felt ill, walked out and caught the #43 up Flores and the #75 west to OLLU where Sandra Cisneros was celebrating the release of the Spanish edition of her memoir, A House of My Own, and her recent National Medal of the Arts award. She read from the Epilogue, explaining how she came to leave San Antonio for San Miguel de Allende in the wake of gentrification-inspired-fear and media “vitriol” “toward people who look like me.” She felt fear in her own home. Cisneros writes, “The paradox is this: fear unites us, fear divides us.” Afterward, I think about Sandra’s paradox as I walk toward home through gentle, warm darkness, when a pick-up whooshes especially close to the sidewalk. I take a step back to balance myself and C/Katrina is there beside me. “What do you think?” she asks. Befuddled, I return the question. “What about you?” C/Katrina says, “It would be a terrible thing for the Malt House to implode in this town’s corporate colonial epidemic, but if that happens or not still lies en los manos de la gente--in La Comunidad--more than in Commissions: “Do they let a 7/11 offer more to the community than has the family who has fed them all these years?” I nod as I see the connections she is making and think “you don’t just mean money, do you?” C/Katrina’s continued: “How do we use our hands to feed our families and ourselves? Where do we spend our change? Do we use our minds and hearts to determine what feeds our souls and bodies?” Epilogue: Tuesday, Oct. 12—Trump comes to town & tries to co-opt S.A.’s Spurs with praise, but C/Katrina will have none of it; she teams up with Huff Post to declare the Spurs “A Team That Rejects Trumpism In Every Way.” Trumpcat mopes, watching the kittens frolic in the October fallen-leaf mulch. —Kamala Platt, Oct 6, 2016

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9

Dia de Los Muertos approaches on the wings of butterflies migrating southeast across Martin Street. The thirsty ones linger to nectar on the flowering Turk’s Cap and Fiddlewood in my yard--a sign that something is right in this Trumpificated world. Even C/Katrina notices the mariposas when she waltzed in to study the Trumpification of our towns. And upon her arrival, she heard about the Malt House right away. The Malt House is on my mind, too, when I am not preoccupied by Chican@ Literature courses and online students evacuating from their hometowns as hurricanes and end-of-course submission deadlines loom. Yesterday, I read student posts via CoSA wifi while I listened to testimonios at the Historic Design Review Commission meeting. Milagro realism availed clarity of mind despite my multi-tasking & the latest escapades of both “Trumpcat,” a mean neighborhood tomcat, and his namesake “Donboy Trump.” Last week, Trumpcat’s tooth pierced my fingernail, drawing blood through the cartilage as I pulled mi corazón kitty, Gabriel, away from his claws. When Trumpgato pounced on the yard kitties, confiscating their food just for fun, I knew Trumpification was occurring among our sentient relatives, and thus that tomcat got a name… En sangre fria… Si, even in south Tejas, Trump sends chills and C/Katrina worries… I gave up my comment time at the HDRC hearings, but wanted to say that one of the first times I had lunch at the Malt House was with David (Rudy’s brother in real estate/affordable housing). I’d learned the loan company had redlined the Westside property I was planning to buy on Martin St. and was losing hope. I met David and his wife for lunch, chisme, and strategizing. That meeting was an important part of my initiation and bienvenida to the Westside. My Malt House petition sheet included signatures from neighbors, outraged at the Malt House closing; most vehement is my next door neighbor and her adult children—the grandchildren of the family—whose house I did buy despite redlining. We’ve eaten at the Malt House together for celebrations, and other times, I’ve run down for an order that we all shared back on Martin Street. We all want a continuation of a high quality, affordable restaurante in the Malt House building, one that serves a community facing diabetes, and a planet facing manmade toxic fatigue syndrome. I felt tears well up with some of the memory-cuentos yesterday, especially those that demonstrated that to destroy the Malt House would be to “rip the heart out of the Westside.” I was in awe-conrespeto of the 96yr old gentle-hombre, who built his life on the Westside (I heard “lively hood” in his word “livelihood”). I appreciated Tomas Ybarra Frausto’s interpretations of the social-culturalartistic historias; and my sense was reaffirmed that the Malt House is--in the most whole and holistic sense--a “high performance building.” That is, the building holds memories that happened


Los Art: Artemio Rodríguez

MARCHAS ANTI-GAYS EN MEXICO Septiembre diez, día triste que me agüita y me lastima México de blanco viste y a gente “queer” se victima

El Dinero | Money “Si no tienes dinero, no te hace caso nadie, En cambio, si lo tienes, ¡Amigos a millares!” ¿Han oido estas palabras, verdad? En el mundo de los politicos esto es muy valioso. Algo asi como el dicho: “El que tiene más saliva, come más pinole.” ¿Han comido pinole, verdad?

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La Alcadesa de esta población quiere un parque de beisbol en el Centro. Esto que ella quiere nos va a costar unos cuantos millioncitos. Tambien tenemos una emisión de bonos que nos costarán otros tantos. Todo cuesta y cuesta mucho ¿y los salarios? ¿De donde saldrá este dinero? Sabrá Dios.


“La Catrina” y “La Hiedra” (Ivy) no la llevan bien, Pues una quiere ponerle su fin y la otra no se déjà. ¿Qué creen? Otro tipo que fué alcalde de San Anto quiere que se construya un puente para que Sea facíl llegar a un parque que lleva su nombre, ¡Otros cuantos millioncitos más! —Enrique Sánchez If you have no money, no one pays you any attention. On the other hand, if you have some, Friends, galore! In the politicians’ world, this is quite true. The Mayor of this town wants a baseball stadium downtown. That will cost us a few million and some bonds Costs are high and wages low. What to do? Catrina and La Ivy do not get along. Catrina wants to take her, but she won’t go! Guess what? A former Mayor, too, wants millions to build a bridge so folks can easily cross over to a park that bears his name, Only few million more! —Translation: Gloria A. Ramírez

Así salen a la calle cientos de miles tapados pa’ protestar el detalle que los gays sean casados A proteger la familia se juntaron, según dicen que la biblia los auxilia pero a Jesús contradicen ¡Qué vergüenza, yo no paso! que esta religiosa gente no proteste los fracasos del gobierno negligente Porque la lucha es urgente de parar asesinatos

de mujeres, estudiantes ¡no seamos insensatos! Una pequeña esperanza un jovencito regala sus brazos abre y afianza su amor a muy grande escala “Odio al odio” dice el niño cuando es entrevistado mi tío es gay y cariño siempre me ha obsequiado “—No te preocupes mijito” le avisa Doña Calaca “de estos odiosos, malditos a mí ni uno se me escapa” Y Catrina muy campante a toditos se llevó de su ser tan aberrante ningún rastro nos dejó —Rita E. Urquijo-Ruiz

Calavereando Celebraciones Esperanza estuvo de lujo Catrinas y calaveras y buen gentes celebraron profesores que en UTSA ya han avanzado Llegó la profesora Tafolla con su poema en la mano acompañada del padre consejos a todos dio Mexican Step Grandfather Cervantes ya un asociado y con la Lee Ann a su lado Hasta al Juanga apantalló

Rachel Cruz y su mariachi— Corazón de San Antonio—ha dado Que como resortera a Méndez-Negrete Echándose unos pasos— con la Gloria se aventó

Centenos con su pastel El postre han compartido Haciendo la vida dulce Pa’ la Asociada Saldaña

Miranda y sus ayudantes Crearon un ambiente festivo Y celebrando los triunfos Promovían la educación

Doña Margarita Gómez Con la familia a su lado Algo muy inesperado También vino a celebrar

Los ángeles ya celebran Y los demonios envidian El logro de nuestra gente Que en San Anto se encontró —Josie Méndez-Negrete

Restos Art: Catalina Delgado-Trunk

Even In Death

The sound of the guitar could be heard. The voice of the cantor could be heard. Both warming up for what was to be a great performance. Backstage, she stared at herself in the mirror. She softly smiled as she put on the gold earrings her Grandmother had given to her as a birthday gift. Then, she noticed the red and black rose hair piece was still on the counter. She touched the roses and then placed them in her hair. Again, she Art: Stella Marroquin


your mother’s fridge, laughing at Cantinflas and his goofy escapades. It ended at midnight, after my curfew, and as you drove up the driveway, we saw el jefe, Dad, waiting on the porch. He was so pissed, threatened to pull you out of the car and beat you. And he would’ve-but Istarted to cry and begged him not to kill you. He didn’t have to Art: Meredith Bertschin tell you twice to leave. Inside, my mom asked why I smelled like canela. I pretended not to hear and went to my bedroom. I wrote a poem which made me think of you. A little something inspired by three shots of tequila. Made me want to stop by and visit for a bit. Haven’t been here since abuelita’s funeral. It’s so peaceful and quiet.No, these aren’t tears, I’m not crying. It’s the oak pollen. Makes my eyes water. Te hecho de menos. I miss you. Next time I’ll read you the poem and bring flowers. —Sally Gaytán-Baker

Esto es morirse

Mientras estoy acostada unas personas se dan cuenta que mi pecho tiene movimientos involuntarios sobre el lado izquierdo, como si me estuviera dando un ataque cardiaco. Yo no puedo emitir palabra, cuando más gente me ve es demasiado tarde para hacer algo… esto debe ser morirse. Siento una sacudida y después un aflojamiento de todo el cuerpo, como una caída en un vacío pero sin temor. Esto debe ser morirse… y en lo único que pienso es en mis escritos sin terminar, sin organizar. Es demasiado tarde porque no puedo emitir palabra. Siento la dureza y rigidez de mi boca y recuerdo el gesto de mi madre cuando perdía la conciencia. No puedo hablar por más que lo intento y con un movimiento de labios digo « help » a

mi manera, lo digo varias veces hasta que alguien parece entenderme y estoy en el hospital, pero nadie se da cuenta de que en realidad es una emergencia, nadie se mueve con la rapidez que yo necesito ser atendida. Una enfermera viene y me pone el aparato para tomarme la presión pero no funciona y me deja ahí. Creo que va a otro cuarto a buscar uno que sirva pero no actúa rápido. Dios mío, ¿por qué me vine a morir a México? Aquí no podrán hacer nada para tratar de revivirme. —Ana María González Ana María González, Associate Professor of Spanish & Chair World Languages & Cultures Dept at Texas Lutheran University was awarded first place at the 2016-18th Annual International Latino Book Awards for the anthology, Dejame que te cuente. ¡Felicidades!

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9

It’s been a while. I should’ve come sooner, pero tú sabes, la vida, gets in the way. Seems it was just last week we went cruisin’ down Guadalupe Street in your candy apple red ’56 Chevy. And wasn’t it yesterday you told me you loved me? Para siempre, forever, you said. Everybody’s doing great, well, casi todos. La Cindy married Jaime. They have two kids—a boy and a girl. Chiquita lives in Europe. Became a runway model, incredible, but true. Changed her name to Roxy Paloma. She lives with some guy that plays in a German rock band. Remember when we used to call her Daddy Long Legs? Abel joined the Navy. Wants to make it a career. He was pretty down when Mimi ran off with Chuy. Sofie struggles as a single mother. Rocky left, moved to Houston when he found out she was pregnant. Y Marisela? Le tocó mala suerte. Bad luck follows her like a shadow. Poor thing is singing the jail house blues. Got tired of being smacked around by her old man. Stabbed him in the gut. Anyway, es lo que dicen. Me? Qué no lo vas a creer. I went to college, got not one but two degrees. Still poor, but educated. Remember the time we went to the Dixie Drive-In and watched a Cantinflas movie? We thought we were so cool, smoking clove cigarettes and drinking beer you stole from


softly smiled. She was ready to perform. She was ready to dance. She was ready to bare her heart and soul. As she walked towards the stage, she could hear the silence. She knew it was time for her entrance. She knew the audience was waiting. She stopped. She took a deep breath and walked on to the stage. Even in death, she smiled. Even in death, she danced. Even in death, she had life. Even in death, she had a purpose. She did not fear death. She feared not living. —Pamela Michelle Herrera


* community meetings *

Amnesty International #127 For info. call Arthur @ 210.213.5919.

People’s Power Coalition meets last Thursdays | 210.878.6751

Bexar Co. Green Party: Call 210. 471.1791 or

PFLAG, meets 1st Thurs. @ 7pm, University Presbyterian Church 300 Bushnell Ave. | 210.848.7407.

Celebration Circle meets Sun., 11am @ Say Sí, 1518 S. Alamo. Meditation: Weds @7:30pm, Friends Meeting House, 7052 Vandiver. 210.533.6767. DIGNITY SA Mass, 5:30pm, Sun. @ St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, 1018 E. Grayson St | 210.340.2230 Adult Wellness Support Group of PRIDE Center meets 4th Mon., 7-9 pm @ Lions Field, 2809 Broadway. Call 210.213.5919. Energía Mía: (512) 838-3351 Fuerza Unida, 710 New Laredo Hwy. | 210.927.2294 Habitat for Humanity meets 1st Tues. for volunteers, 6pm, HFHSA Office @ 311 Probandt. LGBTQ LULAC Council #22198 meets 3rd Thursdays @ 6:45pm @ Luby’s on Main. E-mail: info@ NOW SA Chapter meets 3rd Wed’s. For time and location check FB/ | 210. 802.9068 | nowsaareachapter@

LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9•

Pax Christi, SA meets monthly on Saturdays. Call 210.460.8448


Parents of Murdered Children, meets 2nd Mondays @ Balcones Heights Community Ctr, 107 Glenarm | www. Rape Crisis Center 7500 US Hwy 90W. Hotline: 210.349.7273 | 210.521.7273 Email: sgabriel@ The Religious Society of Friends meets Sunday @10am @ The Friends Meeting House, 7052 N. Vandiver. | 210.945.8456. S.A. Gender Association meets 1st & 3rd Thursday, 6-9pm @ 611 E. Myrtle, Metropolitan Community Church. SA AIDS Fdn 818 E. Grayson St. offers free Syphilis & HIV testing | 210.225.4715 |

Give to the Esperanza Peace & Justice Center at your workplace, today! Use the appropriate code: Combined Federal Campaign (Gov’t/military) code: 77773 City of San Antonio: 8022

SA Women Will March: www.|(830) 488-7493

Bexar County: 8022

SGI-USA LGBT Buddhists meet 2nd Sat. at 10am @ 7142 San Pedro Ave., Ste 117 | 210.653.7755. Shambhala Buddhist Meditation Tues. 7pm & Sun. 9:30am 257 E. Hildebrand Ave. | 210.222.9303.

Proyecto Hospitalidad Liturgy meets Thurs. 7pm, 325 Courtland.

S.N.A.P. (Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests). Contact Barbara at 210.725.8329.

Metropolitan Community Church services & Sunday school @10:30am, 611 East Myrtle. Call 210.472.3597

Voice for Animals: 210.737.3138 or

Overeaters Anonymous meets MWF in Spanish & daily in English | www. | 210.492.5400.

The United Way Combined Federal Campaign is Here!

SA’s LGBTQA Youth meets Tues., 6:30pm at Univ. Presby. Church, 300 Bushnell Ave. |

City/County I.S.D.s: 8022 State of Texas Employee Charitable Campaign: 413013 ¡Todos Somos Esperanza! For more info: call 210.228.0201 or email esperanza

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Notas Y Más November 2016

Register now for the 2016 Caregiver Summit: Facing the Challenge sponsored by WELLMED and Alamo Area Council of Government’s Bexar Area Agency on Aging on November 10th, 8:30am to 3pm at the Whitley Theological Center, Oblate School of Theology, 285 Oblate Dr. in San Antonio. Register at no cost: or call 866.390.6491 or 210.871.7720. See: www.wellmedcharitablefoundation. org/caregiver-summit-2016/ Latin@s in Heritage Conservation’s 2nd national, Reunión 2016, convenes on November 18-19th in Houston, TX. Among the presenters will be Dr. Sarah Zenaida Gould of San Antonio who will speak on Friday, November 18th at 2 pm with a Brief History of Latinos in Houston Conservation. Registration: $25; $10 for students with school ID. Contact: latinoheritageconservation@gmail. com or check on FB for more.

The Guadalupe Cultural Arts Center’s Macondo Signature Reading Series presents Natalie Diaz author of When My Brother Was an Aztec at a reading and book signing on November 19th at 7:30pm. She will also hold a master class workshop that day from 10am-3pm. Both Native American (Mojave and Pima Tribes) and Spanish, Diaz builds upon a root embedded in myth, exposing, with grace, the inheritance and truths of a complex social and personal history. $120 per person, limit 15. Macondistas received 25% discount. See http://www. The Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty (TCADP) annual conference, Moving to Higher Ground takes place Saturday, February 18, 2017 at St. David’s Episcopal Church (301 E 8th St, Austin, TX 78701). Brian Stolarz author of the forthcoming book, Grace and Justice on Death Row: The Race Against Time and Texas to Free an Innocent Man will be the keynote speaker See:

clinging on you like the cancer in your lungs struggling to breathe You made time to dance and sing Eres mi vaquro in the sky My Tata is gone but I can still hear him singing. I’m 16 Dancing is in my soul Todos somos artistas You ignited my love for Art: Sam Phillips musica y colores believed in my story So I pushed through my dolores My body similar to yours tall, guerita y cantando I move to the music like a black cat in the alley My Tata is gone but I can still hear him singing

Art: Deborah Gusi

I’m 15 At my quince my eyes bloated with tears As if someone esta cortando cebollas You stood up tall, a gallant Señor Morenito y alto We danced to My Girl the oxygen tank

The Society for the Study of Gloria E. Anzaldúa & The Women’s Studies Institute @ UTSA present an International conference on November 3-5 at UTSA Downtown in San Antonio,


A welcome reception will be held on November 3rd at the Esperanza, 922 San Pedro from 6-8pm. On November 4th an Art Exhibit & Noche de Cultura will take place at Galeria E.V.A. from 6-10pm. To register or for a complete schedule: http// or contact Carolyn.

I’m 23 Speaking in front of my colleagues Trying to pronounce every letter with clear Diction and inflection I don’t fit in, I don’t belong Back pushed against the wall Wondering what went wrong No one’s here to hear I begin to fall I remember your proverb “Mija don’t worry you’ll always have music just listen to the beat of your heart” I find my light with the support and amor of other artistas, feministas Now, I’m 28 Standing on the shoulders of a giant como usted. I still think about you everyday My first loss, My first heartache. My Tata is gone but I can still hear him singing. —Jessica Francin Gonzáles

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Ofrenda Para Tata Para TaTa This is to revive your story To recharge your narrative I can still hear your voice, cantando The canciones de dolores. You sang to me to make me smile and stop llorando. Your heart was made of golden maize. Strong and dried out from all the years Caring for nosotros My Tata is gone but I can still hear him singing.

Brief news items on upcoming community events. Send items for Notas y Más to: or mail to: 922 San Pedro, San Antonio, TX 78212. The deadline is the 8th of each month.


LA VOZ de ESPERANZA • November 2016 Vol. 29 Issue 9•

Diez Años de Fotohistorias exhibit continues at

Esperanza thru Nov. 11th Mon.–Fri., 10am–7pm,


Contact: or call 210-228-0201


November 1st 4pm to 10pm



Nov. 19th & Dec. 10th 8 pm | $7 más o menos | @ Esperanza 922 San Pedro Ave., San Antonio, TX Esperanza Peace & Justice Center

922 San Pedro San Antonio TX 78212 210.228.0201 •

Non-Profit Org. US Postage PAID San Antonio, TX Permit #332

Haven’t opened La Voz in a while? Prefer to read it online? Wrong address? TO CANCEL A SUBSCRIPTION EMAIL CALL: 210.228.0201

Rinconcito de Esperanza, 816 S. Colorado St. SA TX Altar exhibit! Música! Storytelling! Face painting! Calavera readings! Comidita! Call 210.228.0201 —

Now 3 days

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La voz - November 2016