Karen Mejla '97

...Veronica CarbfcjAl

RECUERDA Mejlcanos, Chicanas, Mexican Americans, Gringos, Boricuas, Nuyoricans. Puerto Riquenos. Dominicanas, Colombianos. Cubanas, Salvadorenos, y mas mujeres, hombres heterosexuals, leasbians. gays rich, middle-class, poor blancos, morenas. negros, and the list of divisions doesn't end there, yet we are all covered by same blankets': 'Spies, Hispanos. Latinos. Latinas.

Espanol, Spanglish. English You think we speak the same languages? Translations aren't working anymore because we've forgotten the language of respect, comprension, consideration, apoyo. compromise. We're all too busy screaming Yo. Yo. Yo. sin escuchar.

Are we all hermanos y hermanas? Haven't we all refused to melt? If we all share the same history and reality of colonization. the same lagrimas de confucion, the same mis-representation. Why don't we recognize each other?

Why are we so busy fighting for the same crumb? Why do we insist on looking each other up instead of looking each other in the eyes?

So don't ask me why or when My poetry will stop being politica because hasta hora, that's been one of the only political weapons of my people

So five, ten. fifteen years after we've all walked through the gates side by side. when your memories get fuzzy and your feet can no longer shuffle to the rhythm of nuestra. mi gente. Will you remember the performances, the poems, the dances. the forums, the vigils, the editorials? Will you remember when you exercise your privilege, when its your turn to check the ballot bo<. when you are the employer, when you read the headlines, when your children come to you with questions, will you remember? Yo si.

Somos-16

/VWLA UAV*1 Do**.A££k And VtSOruX.A CArbAjAl

Voices of Two Latinas

La dificultad de encontrarme, ...come to a voice, my own. mi voz.

Encontrar las palabras con las cuales pueda expresar, with which I can articulate my reality. Where I can hear my thoughts, where nosotras y ustedes puedan escucharnos. Creciendo y teniendo que regresar to a world donde la poesia es solo un pasatiempo, a hobby. To be kept under lock and key.

No me escondo, I don't hide behind my poetry. The voice, las palabras en mi posia expresan lo que siento. With them 1 express who I am.

No there is no rhyme to my poetry. The rhythm of my words is in my identity. No there are no flowers or hearts in my poetry. With my words I express my reality, my identity. I reaffirm, identify. I communicate.

When you see that at the forums, lecture halls, sections, and gatherings i do not express my words it is because of the fear of being misinterpreted, the fear of getting lost in translation, because I am still transgressing the role that "machismo" in my culture has assigned for me.

Don't try to understand my silence, words that were not pronounced. Remember the words that I know read. Recuerda la voz que habla con y en cada una de estas palabras. Recuerda mis poemas porque estos manifiestan lo que siento y lo que pienso. Mi ser is my stregth, my voice y mi poesia. -17-