#systemsofoppression

T.W: Child Sexual Abuse 

He took my innocence,

All my hopes, my dreams, my youth.

He took my very soul.

What could have been,

I will never know.

But it wasn’t just my childhood that he stole,

It was all the other kid’s too.

Their scared faces each forever burned into my mind.

I remember what he did to them...

To me...

To us.

Even to his own kids.

I was just barely five years old 

When he took interest in 

The little hazel eyed blonde haired kid 

In the compound next door.

I’ve noticed a phrase that people like to say 

About kids who go through shit...

They like to say 

“Kids are resilient”

But what I’ve learned is that 

We are only “resilient”

Because our tiny brains cannot yet 

Comprehend our own lived experiences,

Our resiliency always runs out 

The moment are minds mature enough 

That we finally gain access 

To the words we needed to describe our pain,

And we feel safe enough to express the trauma 

Our weary bodies have been bearing all this time.

You see,

We aren’t always taught this but

Our bodies hold every ounce of pain 

We have ever had to endure.

That is until some of us are

Granted the privilege of acknowledging we even have trauma...

And then,

If we are lucky...

We receive the great privilege of  

Actively being able to seek out and maintain

Professional outlets of healing.

But not everyone has these privileges.

Oppression is a real raging bitch and 

When your suffering from within it 

It’s almost impossible to escape.

You’re just forever stuck

In a system that is only aimed to keep 

You from living, learning, growing, thriving, 

And succeeding in this world. 

So when I remember how 

My innocents was taken by him,

I’m struck with immense survivors guilt 

Because even though 

No one knew about what was happening to me 

For four and a half years...

I eventually got out.

I got out.

I was the only privileged one to escape

The system of oppression that 

I only knew and could relate to from a 

Tiny white missionary kid’s view point.

Now when I close my eyes 

I see a surge of little Black and Brown faces.

So beautiful in nature 

Yet, 

So hopeless, beaten and battered.

Some of these kids 

Were my friends.

Everyday,

We would play together 

Outside the compound 

After school

Until the sun was just about to go down.

Their faces edged into my memory. 

I remember the fun we had and the smiles we shared.

I remember the sounds of our collective laughter 

And the joy we found in each other.

But

I also remember seeing and recognizing 

The joint fear on our faces 

As He led us into his compound, 

Then into his house ,

And then his bedroom. 

I remember their desperate cries.

Cries 

That no one heard.

I remember the 

Deep bruises, cuts, and sores on the bodies of the children 

That left that dreaded room.  

Kids with excruciating wounds 

Sometimes invisible 

Unless you’re trained to see the clues.

The haunting red flags.

Yet I was the one

That got out.

While they all stayed 

And their painful stories continued.

I think a lot 

About what if I could go back and change things...

If I could have spoken up and reached out for help.

If I could have only just told my parents.

I know without a doubt 

That my parents would have gotten me out of 

That situation  

So fucking fast.

They would have raged and aggressively advocated for me 

And would have seen to it that He be dealt with.

I would have gotten help sooner. 

But then I think to myself about 

Who would have advocated for 

All those other kids in the village..

In the surrounding villages...

In the town..

In the country...

All over the continent...

All over this world...

Who have a

“Him” 

Who has stolen their autonomy 

And shattered their story.

Who would have gotten them 

All the help they so desperately needed 

In order to heal their 

Hearts, minds, bodies and souls??

Who would grant them that privilege?

The only way I would change anything about 

Those dark years...

Is to somehow fiercely eradicate the systems of oppression 

That enable evil men to gain the power 

They use to suppress the rest of us. 

To eradicate the patriarchy that 

Encourages men to think they

Can get away with mortally wounding 

Women, Transgender, Nonbinary people, Other LGBTQ people,

And children. 

To eradicate white supremacy and the effects of colonialism 

That have plagued and devastated  

The lives of People of Color 

Since the beginning of time.

To eradicate the systems of power 

That side with, shelter and protect 

The abuser and 

Not the victim and survivor. 

To eradicate and remove the barriers 

That keep God’s children 

From succeeding and thriving

In this world they placed them in.

Those kids deserve to get out 

Just like I did. 

Those kids deserved a story that didn’t 

Involve an evil man obsessed with 

The power granted to him by 

His ability to silence those around him

And strike fear into the hearts of the community.

A community that frightfully elevated his stance 

Based on his 

Financial status , level of education and 

His arrogant persona.

Those kids deserve a better story than they one 

They unfortunately were placed into.

So even though I was privileged to escaped,

And receive professional help

That is allowing parts of me to heal... 

Resiliency comes with a heavy cost. 

I will never be truly free

Until the day that 

All the people with stories like us 

I was in second grade when a boy who sat next to me would sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star everyday but change the words to make fun of me. He would do this multiple times a day. I told him to stop, and he didn't. I told my parents and they said he was "being a boy" and that he probably liked me. It got worse and he was writing mean things to me. I told my parents again and showed them the notes. They went to the principal as this has been an ongoing thing. The principal, along with my 2nd grade teacher, looked at me at 8 years old and said, "boys will be boys. He probably just likes you". This was NOT ok. It is not ok to dismiss bully behavior based on gender. It is not ok to assume that as a woman you will grow up being degraded and accept it. It is not ok that this turns into catcalls. Boys will be held accountable for their actions

Today I confronted 2 types of professors. Let's pretty much say one was being racist but didn't know it (Fucking white people), the other who actually told me and all the other students in the class that sometimes I go around the issue instead of attacking it on point. Let me put you in the first situation.

I have been very vocal about social justice in this writing seminar, mostly because I have no other idea what to say. I am basically the lonely brown queer kid from LA that talks a lot of shit (AKA Constructive criticism) This professor has recognized that I am very vocal of that and has tried to push for more social justice centered reading and writing, which I madly appreciate. The first problem I had didn't occur until this semester (I have been with this professor for 2 semesters now) She told the students to get together and instead of saying "get together" she used the term "Powow". Of course I was thrown off, but definitely not vocally reactionary. She repeated the word about 3 times, until she stopped herself. She said "Whoops, I need to stop using that, I am sorry Oscar!", and gave me a pat on the back. 

Now, considering I did not say anything, there was no need for her to apologize.I do not identify with Powows, but I started thinking about the idea of apologizing. Now if Christopher columbus came up to me and said sorry, I wouldn't take it and be okay. But then again, if Christopher Columbus came up to me he would be attacked in an instant. The idea is that sometimes white folks are caught up in the complex of apologizing. Something described by Malcolm X as the "white mans guilt complex", this idea of "Whoops guilty as charged!, let me apologize to one person that has REPECT for native folks or by far resembles a person of color and make things right again!" I looked at her today with a very uncomfortable look. Today we came back from the break. In light of Cesar Chavez she said "Yesterday was Cesar Chavez day, Oscar, you must know about the holiday, can you explain to the class?" Excuse me, but do not assume that it is my role to educate all these fucking white people about the reason they got their day off and do not assume that because I am brown, I should know this. TOTALLY RACIST!

On a lighter note, we had discussion in my Race, Power and Ethnicity class with the amazing Lina-Maria Murillo. We started talking about hurricane Katrina and how geographically racist it is. Point is, as we were all talking she stopped us and said, "That's what's wrong with your papers yall!" she went on to saying "You all need to stop using words that create undertone to what you're trying to say, instead of saying it was racist, say, IT WAS AN ATTACK ON BLACK FOLKS AND IT WAS DONE ON PURPOSE!" She stressed this idea of sensitivity and called EVERYONE out on going around the issue and never hitting it on the spot. She explained the use of our language. She followed with exercises of us saying "WHITE PEOPLE!" "COLONIZER!" it was great, because I started noticing I do that shit so much! Lessons learned, she fucking spoke! She then went on this lesson of capitalism that made some of us cry and it was totally cute. Not the capitalism of course! haha She met me after class and checked in with me about everything. She was THERE! PRESENT! and this is what this is about! Being present and not just a fucking body that walks around and hands me information. It was beautiful! 

Well, she inspired me to do my homework tonight and hecharle ganas! But of course I had to write it down so I can reference if the situation ever occurs again.

Sorry for all the errors!

Mucho amor,