#undocuart

Where: Harlem, NY by way of Ecuador

Medium(s): Poet

Pieces:

Poem-“Calling Cards” 

I. ONE

Across oceans and land

Working to connect one phone line with another

Like the umbilical cord of a child

  These $5, $10, $20’s square cards are more than plastic

These calling cards have heart beats

II.TWO

We survive through phone lines

A cycle of dialing numbers

On the other line waited abuela

On the other line waited birthday wishes that you should have given us in person while you ate cake with us

But we were here and you were there.

   On the other line we waited

For your voice

That is all we had

My dad waited for you

He still does

 III.THREE

How do you dial a love one?

When your fingers have worn out from weaving too many memories

When your voice has change since the last time you saw them in person

                Your bones have broken from their absence

                Your lips have withered

                Your face is the only clue left of what they might look like now

    Perhaps it’s best to not look in the mirror

    Perhaps you are too ashamed of holding on to old memories

 IV.FOUR

I can still hear Abuelita Alegria’s voice

Dime abuelita como esta Ecuador?

Yes abuelita I promise to return

And then a long pause

You hear her shuffling the phone trying to remember which side to talk from

She is not familiar with this technology

I call it old school, some call it poverty

  Abuelita’s gentle voice rocks me back to memories of when she carried me as a baby

My face lays flat on her back

She hangs up

And I lay gripping on to her words

Trying not to let go

Never enough minutes

  V.FIVE

Calling cards don’t have heart beats anymore

They just hang in the store

Teasing you

My dad stops at the bodega for other reasons

His mouth curls up at the end of the bottle

Longing for one more conversation

I think he believes that with every beer he gets closer to heaven

Closer to her

And secretly I wished that was true

  The phone goes unused like the passport in my wallet

No more dialing

In his palms rests spaces where my grandma is buried

And even then the borders created by the lines in his hands

Restrict him from getting too close

   Dad wants to hold my hand

But mostly we look at each other hoping to find comfort

He says I look like abuela 

Poem: "Chronicles of Losing Your Name"

*For this section , Emilia Fiallo , an artist who was previously profiled on Undocumenting.com, sat down with Sonia and asked her some intimate questions:

Emilia: I met Sonia back in 2011 at the New York State Youth Leadership Council. What struck me the most about her was her loud voice and how her presence commanded the room. I didn't know it then but at the time Sonia was experiencing one of the most climactic changes of her life. At only 22 she was facing the constant possibility of deportation while maintaining the fearless and fiercest side of her in front of others that relied on her leadership and organization skills. As I got to know her more I learned another side of Sonia, a side that was slowly beginning to take form, one that needed to desperately come out. Sonia as the artist, the nurturing friend, the lover, and the writer were layers that flourished within her during one of the most liberating times of her life. When it comes to accepting the many layers of identity, Sonia represents only herself, a woman that re-defines all of the labels that were once placed on her. She teaches us that only we can define and liberate ourselves.

Emilia: Any tips for artist that are undocumented?

Sonia (Undocumenting) : Create and imagine!!!  For many of you that are coming from organizing spaces remember your work is as important.  We are coming from spaces where it was all about doing reactionary work, always working within binaries, never space to imagine beyond that or imagine what the future might look like. It is radical and revolutionary to be able to imagine, it’s a sign that we are alive and the more you create the more you regain your humanity. Be unapologetic about your creative process and your art.

                                                       Photo Credit: Eli Jacobs-Fantauzzi

Emilia: Is there such thing as a safe space? How do you create spaces that are inclusive of undocumented artists, and queer women? Why is it important to you to highlight the complex identities of artists? How do you make your pieces be a reflection of who you are as a queer woman, artist, and migrant. 

 Sonia (Undocumenting): There is never a safe space for all of our identities. At least for me, most of the spaces I have been: migrant organizations, queer spaces, creative institutions have all lacked an understanding of my complexities and understanding of my wholeness. Constantly having to check, educate, and put up with people and their lack of knowledge, understanding around all aspects of my identity is exhausting. Migrant spaces do not see my queerness, queer spaces lack understanding of what it means to be undocumented, creative spaces do not get my organizing...always getting compartmentalized.  Thus creating a loose network of artists that are undocumented/women of color/queer through undocumenting.com has allowed me to began to shape loosely a space, relationships, and community where I feel safe, where I am not shamed, where I can love and genuinely grow with folks. It is beautiful and so energizing to profile so many amazing talented artists that are undocumented, and challenge notions of what is to be an artist. As an artist that is undocumented, queer and women of color [insert here all other labels and #’s] I am constantly looking for spaces where I feel whole, where I am able to create and not be dictated only one single issue to represent. Like Audre Lorde said: “There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives."  And that is important to remember specially when we look at artist and their creative process and content.  There needs to be intentional spaces for artists that are undocumented, they need to be valued as much as organizers, and academics.  We need to support each other. We deserve a healthy healing community where we can create, imagine and love. 

Emilia: What's the artistic project you are most fond of? What was your biggest take away from projects like Dreaming in Ink, that featured undocumented writers telling their coming out stories?

Sonia (Undocumenting): Dreaming In Ink writing workshops was a project I founded in early 2011 when I grew tired of my writing being on the sideline, when I saw no intentional creative space for artists that are undocumented. As a writer I gravitated towards starting a creative writing workshop that would meet every first Saturday of the month. This brought many young undocumented  people who were creative, who felt left out in policy meetings and who needed a safe space to heal.  My biggest take away was that if a space is not meeting your needs and respecting what your craft than you must leave and create that space for yourself. Even if at first it is just you, you might be surprise at how many people will start coming and craving for that space. You are not alone.  I am also happy about the UndocuWriting project at CultureStrike. In 2013 we put together the first UndocuWriting Retreat for writers that are undocumented, and now we are finishing up an anthology (Home in Time of Displacement) where all these writers are featured on. 

Emilia: How does love and sex fit into your writing and how do you write about it so unapologetically?

Sonia (Undocumenting): Coming from an organizing background, I am expected to keep my desires and needs closeted.  Shamed about my sexuality, shamed about knowing what pleases me, and shamed for knowing how to work my own body has conditioned me to place the erotic, the love, and desires to the side.  I been writing about masturbation, about sex, about what pleases my body in recent poems because I can, because I should, and because it feels good. At the same time I am also navigating my experience as someone who has been abused, whose safety has been challenged, and whose trauma is still present . All of those experiences collide in my writing. As an undocumented queer writer, I am expected to only talk about immigration and policy, but fuck that…write about it all, everything is connected, everything counts and everything from your kinky sex to your childhood memories, to your sci-fi is critical and important! Never apologize for the writing you do. 

Emilia: Can feminism be fashionable?Those that meet you never forget your style. From your vibrant nails, bold eye glasses and timeless jewelry, how do you describe your personal style? Why is personal style important to you and your identity?

Sonia (Undocumenting): My aesthetics, my presentation, my style are  intentional and I am unapologetic about it.  My body as a woman of color and as a migrant has always been debated upon, has been shamed, has been called “illegal”, has never been “enough”, or has been to “exotic”.  With that being said, everyone and this country is constantly trying to construct who I am and how I am.  At one point I was like fuck it, I am going to decide how I dress, how I present myself. It is about self-definition, and self-determination.

 Of course there are days when I do not love my body 100%.It’s been 25 years of everything around me telling me how wrong my body is, or how I do not belong. So when those moments of insecurity creeps up I try to be gentle with myself; loving who I am is an on going process. I am still finding myself, right now what I know is this: I love statement pieces so you will always catch me with some big chunky necklace and my bold glasses. I love long skirts, and bright bold colors especially on my lips. My voice is critical in many spaces so why not adorn my lips with some bright purple lipstick.  I am currently with a purpleish streak on my hair. I love being femme, I am fierce, fashionable and those are all my decisions. Reclaiming my body. My personal style is what I get to decide upon. And it is constantly evolving just like my politics and my growth. 

Emilia:  How would you describe Jean-Michel Basquiat to someone that has never heard of him? Why is Basquiat a powerful and influential artist in your life?

Sonia (Undocumenting): First thing I would say is go research him, go see his art. Go watch The Radiant Child. Basquiat is an amazing talented complicated complex artist. I learned about him years ago and then for my senior thesis in college I began to really dive into his work, life, and examine how people/institutions started to construct him. His legacy reminds me that white America is quick to claim one dimension side of you that suits their exotification and tokenizing ways. Academia, galleries, and institutions have erased:  his blackness, the influence his mother had on his artistic process, his growth and socially conscious political statements, his voice.  He reminds me that artist are a powerful act against the hegemony and oppressive systems; and one way to devalue and tame you down is by rewriting your vision, your art, and story. 

Emilia: Identities can change and transform. How do you deal with life transitions and are you dealing with any currently? How do you accept your own transitions and life changes?

Sonia (Undocumenting): Identity is fluid. At one point I was organizing as a youth, claiming young undocumented spaces.  It has been about 2 years since I transitioned out of those migrant spaces because I no longer identify as youth, and I also started leaning towards my poetry. However, there is still the culture of infantalizing of immigrants that I have to deal with, from anti-racist and also “allies”/community leaders that dehumanize migrant bodies by deciding what is “best” for them (savior complex). I also been dealing with the shaming that comes with claiming your artistic self, many organizers that I used to organize with see my current work as a cultural organizer and artist as “not enough”, not “radical”, as “cute”, and “selling out.  Undocumented folks are also in a constant battle to adjust their immigration status, and when that transition comes (if ever) there is also shaming that comes from community. It is these exact feelings and transitions that I am currently processing and trying to document.  Through poetry I try to illustrate the internal conflict/dilemma migrants specially undocumented people go through.

  After a day of crying and having a break down about my immigration case and all the mix emotions that comes with the possibility of ones undocumented status changing, my friend Stephanie Alvarado text me this: “Part of what is interesting about writing and documenting your own existence is that you do it on your own terms. The state will categorize you as one thing and erase the rest. And like the lines between documented and undocumented need to be blurred to speak to the fact that citizenship alone will not save anybody, let alone a queer women of color body”.  

Emilia: What are books that have influenced/impacted you?

Sonia (Undocumenting) : Too many to choose from.  "Zami: A New Spelling of My Name" by Audre Lorde, "We Need New Names" by  Noviolet Bulawayo, Assata an Autobiography, and "Redefining Realness" by Janet Mock. 

Emilia: 3 artist people should look up ?

Sonia (Undocumenting): Latasha Alcindor , Anu Yadav , Susana Garcia 

Where to Find: 

Sonia is currently finalizing the anthology "Home in Time of Displacement Vol.1". She has performances coming up in NY , check her social media for details. She is coordinator of the UndocuWriting Project and Artist Network at CultureStrike. 

Instagram: @theSoniaG  Tumblr: Soniaguinansaca.tumblr.com

This week’s Liberty For All was written in partnership with SWOP Phoenix, the Arizona chapter of the Sex Workers Outreach Project, a national grassroots movement that focuses on improving the lives of sex industry workers by promoting safety, dignity, and diversity in sex work, and fostering an environment that affirms individual choices and occupational rights. You can visit here for more information about SWOP Phoenix and Monica Jones. 

Quien: Alex Aldana 

Donde: Mexico y California 

Medio artístico: Escritor

En Sus Palabras: Porque Escribo...

Escribo en mi lengua verdadera,decolonizando mi propio ser,  mas allá de las fronteras impuestas por la conformidad. En donde mis narraciones no ocupan comprobante academico, ni titulo, ni tesis que las respalde. Porque es el fruto de la tierra que trabajo.Es la cosecha radical de mi conciencia que me invita a crecer y luchar, reclamando mi indigenidad, Joteria, y creatividad como ser humano. Es mi desobediencia a la ausencia de vivir arodillado bajo  pólizas de injusticia que intentan erradicar mi cultura y opinion.

Escribo porque soy complicado y solo así encuentro una explicación. Porque desde chico le escribo a mi otro yo, para conservar mi sanidad mental en este desorden llamado realidad. Donde el hablar de lo feo, de lo crudo y lo imperfecto

mantiene un balance congruente en la paleta de colores y opresión. Porque mi Puteria es mas congruente que la hetero-normatividad que existe en los matrimonios de mismo sexo.

Porque mi voz representa lo mas preciado de mi esencia; nunca se sembrara o modificada  para asimilarse al conceptos como lo es nacionalismo o patriotismo. Escribo porque no quiero ser Amerikano. Porque existo, puedo hablar por mi mismo, y mi dignidad y justicia no se venderá por ningún sueno, ni se compra con ningún permiso de trabajo. Porque mas allá de la homophobia  y privilegio, reconozco el trauma generacional heredado: porque se que mi piel es mestiza. Porque escribir es mi único sustento.

Dándome la autonomía, respeto y responsabilidad propia de entregar mi alma a la comunidad. Porque cada grito escrito es un canto que quiero transmitir en mi propia frecuencia, aniquilando los paralelos del enemigo que intentan negar nuestra existencia.

Escribo porque en veces tengo miedo de mi mismo. Escribo porque soy imperfecto. Escribo porque tengo ganas de pedirte perdón y de sanar con tus anécdotas. Escribo por que me amo a mi mismo.

Porque se que no puedo represento a los miles que están cansados de leer el mismo cuentito con la cabeza abajo, Sin embargo, me regozo en las sombras de rebeldía en este mi culto como  escudo que mantiene mi frente en alto para seguir escribiendo con el  corazón y humildad. Escribo porque se que algún día alzaras tus puños en alto y también tu lo harás. sin vergüenza.

Transcribir es mi Medicina. Porque finalmente entendiendo que esta vida es temporal, y como futuros ancestros pasamos la antorcha de la inspiración a nuestros sucesores, hablando de las derrotas y las lecciones aprendidas de la vida y los desamores como cuento Oral, cantando la misma rebeldía por la eternidad.

Escribo porque tengo demonios que contarte, y ya te espero desde hace tiempo con la taza de café esperando tu reciprocación.  Pintando estrofas y versos en los cuales lo imperfecto es divino, y la esperanza  de libertad es fresca.

Escribo porque no lo hice ayer y el Hoy es revelador. Porque yo se que la palabra de nuestras Verdad conjuga una Resistencia ancestral narrada mas allá de nuestra generación.

Escribo porque nadie lo ara por mi. Porque Es mi responsabilidad cargar esta pluma con tinta de sangre infinita,  jurando que cada palabra se enrede en tu pensamiento. Que por cada rechazo, se desplace ágil y silenciosamente. Que por cada decapitación de la palabra crezcan otras dos con tal destreza, Inesperada.

Porque mis trazos de mis campos de papel quieren emigrar y germinar hasta los fines del mundo donde existe la esperanza. Hasta que cada echo tenga coherencia y llene de lagrimas tu mirada, con la potencia  oral atómica de los mas afectaos,

Escribo por que estamos e guerra. Escribo porque soy paz.

Hasta que el enemio termine de leer estas oraciones, sin putos, acentos ni renglones, como primera y ultima advertencia. Y me mire fijo. Hasta que cada bala trate de infringir y destrozar mi forma corporal, De pie, allí estaré siempre. Listo, lleno de poesía, con una sonrisa quebrada, con lo ultimo que me queda en este mundo apuntándole directo al alma, con cuaderno y lápiz como armas sagradas, bajo el moribundo atardecer ,mas Peligroso que nunca, disparando solamente una palabra como tiro de gracia y un suspiro que grita libertad.

  Photo: January 2014 -Palenque, Chiapas after attending la Escuelita Zapatista EZLN 

Poem: excerpt from "La Tierra Que Fue y sera"

Vuelvo a escribir con conciencia a mi tierra En un canto de flores marimachas, mientras me penetra La primavera. Y el amor es cosecha…

de Cuando caminaba calles vacías, de las memorias del Tejuino, de cogidas y maletas, los elotes frescos y las mamadas secas de Resistencia al desamor.

Es el amanecer, es el anochecer. Es la Luna y el sol haciendo el amor, hasta que los dos se cacen, y se besen, en veces… en una explosion infinita. Es Como venirse a tambos de leche fresca por la vía láctea. para volver a comenzar como lo hago hoy, como lo hice ayer. desde cero, con la bendición de mi(s)madre(s) con trabajo y un Nuevo amanecer,

Mi ‘Ama sigue chingandole, esta cancion no dejara de sonar, para volver a estallar en este canto antiguo y legendario que se nos olvida  recitar.

Photo: Old picture of Alex's mom in Guadalajara

Piece: Open Letter to my mother  , Why I left the United States/ Self-Deported?

¿Por qué dejarlo todo asi nomas? Tu diras.  Aun recuerdo esa oración en nuestra ultima platica cuando tus ojos calleron derrotados diciendo simplemente. “Me dejas Sola”.  Es un costal de piedras que venimos cargando desde hace años, y Yo, como ser vulnerable, me eh cansado de internalizarlo. Mi primer plegaria será para pedirte confianza plena. Se que tengo una estrategia, y al final del dia te gustara saberla. Continua leyendo....continue reading here. 

Decidi Autodeportarme por que me gane de valor, nada mas, asi de simple.

Te tirabas de la riza y entre seriedad, me preguntabas.- ¿Cuándo dejara de viajar? ¿Cuándo regresaras a casa? Aveces me lo preguntaba yo mismo.

                               *For full letter continue reading: HERE 

Undocumenting: What do you want ppl to understand about your open letter to your mom on having self deported?

Alex Aldana: I'd like ppl to understand that I'm no longer going to wait for a government to tell me when and how in going to be able to go back to my home country, and that this act of migration goes beyond politics, it's healing and medicine, and with that amount of courage I want to focus my work on the 2.1 million deported folks that have been displaced from their homes and families, humanizing the issue of migration as something that " cannot be fixed nor controlled"...It's a human journey. 

Undocumenting: What are some books you recommend?

Alex Aldana: You Get So Alone at Times That It Just Makes Sense- Charles Bukowsky, The House on mango street-Sandra Cisneros, La muerte y Otras Sorpresas -Mario benedetti, Entrada Libre. Crónicas de la sociedad que se organiza-Carlos Monsivais 

Undocumenting & Alex Aldana: We been reflecting on Chimamanda Adichie "Danger of a single story" and We Need New Names (a novel by Noviolet Bulawayo) it led me to thinking about how we tell our stories; what language we choose to use not because it is the language we feel comfortable with but because it makes people feel comfortable and we are told  "stories are told in English" and negates the possibility or any room for our stories to be told in our tongue.  Intentionally we set out to make this artist profile in Spanish and leave the poem's in its original form with no translation or subtitles. 

Comenzando un nuevo despertar refleccionando el trabajo de Chimamanda Adichie, “Peligros de una sola historia” y “Nosotros necesitamos nuevos nombres”, cautivo mi pensamiento al describir y analizar como procesamos y compartimos nuestras propias historias; desde el lenguaje que optamos por usar no solamente por ser la lengua que estamos mas agusto a compartir, sino por darle gusto a otra gente. Muchas veces nos an dicho que “Para ser entendidos, nuestras historias deven que ser dichas en Ingles”. Esta nocion iega la posibilidad de imaginar y de humanizar la posibilidad de compartir nuestras historias con nuestra propia audiencia en nuestra propia lengua.Aun asi, siento que la lengua verdadera y mi identidad ya fue colonoizada 500 anos atrás una vez, y no pienso apropiarla una nueva mes mas por otra lengua. Mi historia entonces, será dicha a mi manera, sin subtitulos ni traducciones. Esas serán tareas de otros para comprender mi complejidad y dimensiones como escritor.

Alex Aldana: 

Photo: Outside  "home" in Guadalajara, Jalisco. 1994

Where to Find:  Facebook  , Instagram, Lgbthealthequity.wordpress.com, Myqulture.com (Qulture is  a Queer-Trans blog collective and multimedia site that serves as a vehicle to the voices of our communities of color with topics relevant to our lives).  

He was also part of the 2013 CultureStrike's UndocuWriting Retreat Cohort .