Crafting the Journey of Radical Brown Motherhood

On this mother’s day of 2009, one day away from 20 weeks of carrying a life inside of me, I ponder the journey set before me as a Latina mother that has chosen to walk with the guidance of truth by her side. I did not choose to be brown, but I do choose to engage in the meaning of what it means to be an individual in a society that strives to erase us into the blank page of conformity. In a world that attempts to numb our spirits and mute our hearts, I choose to dig deep into the female instinct, that is a warrior instinct, one that is drawn to protect life and uncover its meaning buried underneath the fallacies of heteronormativity and patriarchy- diseases that affect the lives of all genders and the threaten the foundation of life itself. As I came to make these choices, it was no surprise that I came to understand the meaning of struggle- a journey full of sacrifices, misunderstanding by those close to me as well as those I expect misunderstanding from, but also the blessing to have met others who have also chosen their own paths of warriorships of love and truth, although often times it does become an isolated path.

It is not easy choosing what one must do over what one wants to do, but this is the journey of radical brown motherhood, and it is a journey full of love as it is full of struggle. Choosing to walk with truth does not give one the option to disappear into non-existence. I believe everyone comes to this planet with some gift, some contribution to humanity, some great feat or goal to accomplish that sets us apart from solely eating, shitting, sleeping animals. Walking with truth means loving ourselves enough to know what that feat is, to authentically know our identities. To stray away from this path is to never have known ourselves, our potential, to have never really existed in this world. As a warrior of life, seeker of truth, and soon to be mother, I ponder whether there is any distinction between the first two and the last.

There are those that try to distance the act of motherhood from warriorhood, while I believe that one cannot exist without the other. The work of motherhood must engage in also shaping the world her children will come to know themselves in. A radical mother, a self-aware mother also becomes an advocate for truth-knowing among others as she must advocate with her own child. We live in a society of individuals who have had their highest selves hidden from them. It is a toxic environment. No radical mother, or no loving mother wants her children to be exposed to toxicity. The work to provide others with the opportunity to know themselves is parallel to the work of mothers who nurture their daughters and sons with the opportunities to see truth.
I believe that this life inside my womb is closer to knowing truth in its most fundamental form than it will ever be before it passes on to life after flesh. His early growth is a nine-month prayer. He is vulnerable but does not know fear. He learns, remembers, dreams, discovers, and I believe is in constant connection with a divine life-giving force, growing and moving in unison with the will of Most High, as if singing in perfect pitch with the wavelength of the universe. His obstruction from the oppressive world outside the perfect womb is limited. My challenge will be that when he does enter this world, that he will continue to learn, dream, and discover in unison with this divine force without self-doubt or fear; that he will continue to sing in unison with Most High by distinguishing truth from the fallacies of our world and find his own authentic journey through the world carefully perceived by the womb of his heart and critical mind. These challenges I take on for my own son cannot be distinct from carving the world he will come to know himself in. And so I do choose a more difficult, less luxurious path, but a path that recognizes my own existence; a path that refuses to have my life, the life of my son, and the lives of others dissolve into the dangerous waters of complacency and self-negation.

Wishful Thinking: Reflection and (Re)Vision

My body has spoken. One of the best words of advice I have recently received was from a fellow blogger hermana, Sudy, who said, "your body never lies." This is probably the most honest blog entry I've written in a long time.

Lately I've been insulated by the "go, go, go" motion of daily living. My body is tired, unmotivated, and unwilling to invest energy in situations I have in the past been able to sustain. I've only recently stopped to think, reflect, and scratch the surface of this ongoing depression. My mind took me to the one place I've been scared to go: What if the goal I've set for myself is not conducive to my role in inciting the change I want to incite? As a go-getter, strong willed (read: stubborn), goal oriented individual I was frightened by this prospect. Often times though, our bodies will take us to places our minds will not allow us to wander.

So I entertained this possibility. I had to reexamine my vision and its clarity. I had to reevaluate the course I was on. I had to rethink what epistemology I was working with. How much of my theoretical framework is male-centered? Has my vision been co-opted? An even worse fear came upon this reflection: Have I been unknowingly functioning through a framework that negates me and others like me (i.e. woc, queer, survivors of sexual and domestic violence, etc)?

Lex calls these silenced spaces. After talking to Lex, another blog hermana, I was surprised to find that someone else understood so clearly what I was experiencing. Ashley, another hermana I know from the world of educational institutions has experienced the exact same process of self examination. I am so blessed to share words with these amazing women.

Some of the questions I've begun to consider are:
How much do schooling institutions limit the way I want to reach my community? What was my vision before I became inspired to work in schools? What is my vision now, after working my way into that goal? How have others worked to inspire that goal and is this a vision that I truly encompass? Is this truly my vision? How effective is this vision in addressing and working through the issues that are important to me and those in my community? Do schools offer the authentic spaces for healing, decolonization, and self/community -actualization? Am I most productive in spaces of actualization vs. infiltration? Which one, if not both, or is there some other framework that is more conducive to epistemologies that reflect experiences like my own as a queer woman of color and a survivor? What DOES a queer/woman of color/survivor epistemological framework look like???

As part of trying to explore these questions, I decided to start by using a tool I've come across (sort of serendipitously on several occasions) through others' blogs. Its called a wishful thinking list. I sighted it first in Lex's blog and then mendi lewis obadike's website. I'm using it as a tool to clarify for myself what my experience is, what my vision is, and what my community is. This list is dedicated to my mother, myself, and other survivors of domestic and sexual violence. The number of items, 39, represents the number of years my mother has survived an abusive marriage with my father. The list is a work in progress and I could probably make other lists dedicated to other groups. This particular group or issue is one that stands in the forefront of my experience right now. It is the issue my body is working through, and the one my mother is working through in everything she does. Its a public issue that tends to get only personal attention:

1) People are attracted what you say before what you wear.
2) Your lovers respect you out of love and admiration.
3) When looking for work, building friendships, or making love, there is equal balance in power on all sides.
4) When you speak, your accent always enhances the profundity of your words.
5) At all learning institutions, teachers and instructors are aware of your presence and the learning needs of others like yourself.
6) Others do not see you as up for game as you walk to the corner store and any man that comes to close proximity is not a threat.
7) If you feel that the fire has burnt out, your lover will not manipulate you into staying.
8) Your body is unscarred and holds memories of only love.
9) Your heart is unscarred and unafraid to love.
10) You control who has access to your body.
11) Your lovers remind you that they are blown away by your keen insight and intelligence.
12) Male leaders in your community are genuine, consistent, and acknowledge your skills as necessary assets to your community.
13) The female leaders in your community are plentiful and draw from their experiences as women; they are a reflection of you.
14) Financial difficulties have never been a factor in deciding whether to bear children or not.
15) You feel alive, healthy, and strong in your body, all the time, everywhere.
16) What, how, and where you worship has never incited fear or violence.
17) All human touch you experience from others will come out of love.
18) You are calm, comfortable, sociable, and happy around others you don’t know.
19) No one will try to isolate you from the people you love.
20) You know where you came from, what your name is, and where you want to go.
21) You have memories of your father guiding and loving you with words of encouragement, inspiration, wisdom, and love.
22) Your cultural practices are valued by those different than you.
23) There is no dominant culture; the only thing dominant is diversity and love.
24) Nobody takes you for granted.
25) Your children are safe wherever they are, whomever they are with, and whatever they are doing.
26) Any country you choose to travel to acknowledges the strength, value, and inner-beauty of all women.
27) You can acquire clothing and other goods without wondering if other women and children were abused in the process of its creation.
28) When you speak, others listen.
29) Every opportunity for intellectual, physical, and spiritual growth is available to you just when you need it.
30) When others use your name in conversation, you are assured that they refer to your greatness and talent.
31) When you dream, you smile in your sleep.
32) When I smell your scent in a piece of garment, I am reminded of memories of you as always happy, free, and loved.
33) Your children admire your strength.
34) There is always time to pursue what your heart desires.
35) You know what your heart desires.
36) Your stories are considered anecdotes for wisdom.
37) You consume food without guilt.
38) Every tear your have shed has been out of joy.
39) Every moment you spend alone is done with self-love and out of choice.



Much like BFP's 40 Days of Contemplation I've decided to embark on a journey to define my epistemological framework by reading works by other radical women of color, queer woc, and works by woc on survival. Audre Lorde, Sandra Cisneros, Andrea Smith, Patricia Collins, and Anzaldua are among those in my list. If you could recommend any please share. Also, if you've got a list to share of your own, please link it here, as I am continually inspired by others who are exploring their visions as well.

Staceyann Chin- The One Who Started the Fire

This miraculous woman, was the first model I had that exemplified the powerful ability of queer, women of color to move audiences. She was a guest in my English class in high school back in '99 (I think) and I walked in late not knowing that day I was going to finally learn something about myself, something relative.

She was uncensored, raw, full of fire, and redefined sexy... seriously- at least for me as a high school student in those days. I followed her to the final slam at the Nuyorican Poet's Cafe, and even though she had lost to Kirk Nugent, she captivated my spirit. For those of you who had been to the Nuyorican, you know how small the space is- the place was packed and spilling over with bodies squatting on floors, filling up stair cases, after having paid their 10 bucks with no complaints- they were there for the holy ghost subsumed in these poets' words. This was the first day of the rest of my life.

Afterwards, my writing become charged and took on a more sophisticated character, knowing then I wanted to write for others to be validated by my words, and in turn validating my own humanity. I joined a spoken word workshop with Youth Speaks, and this helped me begin the process of developing my voice, not just in poetry but everywhere else in my life as well.

But when the spirit came down... damn. It was my first performance at the Nuyorican. I was furious that day. That day I had deeply upset my mother on her birthday- and I was raging, fumin'! I was conflicted as to whether to allow her to come witness this side of me she hadn't known. I was scared, either I'd fuck up and she'd think "oh how cute" or I'd do a great job and she'd judge or misunderstand me and the whole performance aspect. So I left her, and that fed the fire. I only brought my little sister with me. Throughout the whole train ride from Harlem down to the Lower East Side, my thoughts kept kindling the fire. When I got up on stage I was a dragon with fire blowing out of me, and everyone I looked at was connected, people were nodding their heads, yelling out "Yes!", shouting- they were right here with me, almost inside me, burning in the flames. It was my first standing ovation. I had finally come to myself.

R.I.P.

Our family friend, Lea, has passed away yesterday in the arms of my mother and in the presence of her two only sons. She put up a fight to live, as she always has, and she'll continue to be a warrior in spirit.

R.I.P. all the mothers who have defended their families and countries in Lebanon, Iraq, and Palestine. They also have raised countries in the midst of war, against a capitalist and imperialist world that exists at the expense of their and their families' lives.

Perseverence of Working Class Mothers

I am continually amazed at the borders that our mothers continue to cross, often times alone and afraid, but unstoppable. Just a week ago a friend of my family's went sick and was diagnosed with brain cancer at a late stage. My mother has known her since she was younger than what I am now. At 69 y.o. she continued to work in the same dry cleaning business she and her husband started as an Chineese-Brazilian immigrant, in order to support her family. She never took time off. She worked up until she started feeling ill. She and my mom would barter services (my mom is a skin care aesthetician who works out of the family livingroom).

As I was at the hospital watching her family around her, I could not imagine what it was like to be in her two sons' shoes. Their dad had died from cancer too. The mother had handled it so well that I had no idea he was gone when I came back to visit a few times as she was workin away, sewing, ironing, and taking in customers, all without a word of complaint and all smiles. I swear these superwomen are distinct in their humanity and I see it in my own mother too. These women know what it really means to carry the world on your back without anyone ever knowing. They do it so naturally and gracefully, in a way that puts all the rest of us to shame for not being abe to endure pain or carry out responsibilities to their fullest extent. These women remind me that I have it in me to reach my fullest potential in anything, that there is nothing that can't be done, that nothing is too difficult to carry over. These women give so much of themselves, as if ambilical cords never get cut off from bringing forth life to families. I am in awe. I am scared that I will never be able to fully appreciate my own mother for the person she has been all her life, scared that I may not know how to give her all that she rightfully deserves... Seeing our family friend and her two sons was the hardest thing to see.. I fear that the time will come for my brother, my siser, and I, when we will be asking if we had done enough, if we had really shown her that we owe her our lives, or had we taken her sacrifices for granted..