Showing posts with label color. Show all posts
Showing posts with label color. Show all posts

Monday, November 25, 2013

Colores César Vallejo





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Mano negra
sobre
Mano blanca
Poeta negro
sobre
Poeta blanco
Negro
sobre
Blanco
Negra mano
sobre
Blanca mano
Tierra negra
sobre
Tierra blanca
Frontera negra
sobre
Frontera blanca
Negra sangre
sobre
Blanca sangre
Presidente negro
sobre
Presidente blanco
Ley negra
sobre
Ley blanca
Sombra negra
sobre
Sombra blanca
Palabra negra
sobre
Palabra blanca
Eros negro
sobre
Eros blanco
Negro invisible
sobre
Blanco invisible
Viento negro
sobre
Viento blanco
Grito negro
sobre
Grito blanco
Justicia negra
sobre
Justicia blanca
Inalámbrico negro
sobre
Inalámbrico blanco
Oceano negro
sobre
Oceano blanco
Sexo negro
sobre
Sexo blanco
Trinchera negra
sobre
Trinchera blanco
Tiempo negro
sobre
Tiempo blanco
Beso negro
sobre
Beso blanco
Espacio negro
sobre
Espacio blanco
Libro negro
sobre
Libro blanco
Ternura negra
sobre
Ternura blanca
Guerra negra
sobre
Guerra blanca
Labios negros
sobre
Labios blancos
Heridas negras
sobre
Heridas blancas
Vientre negro
sob re
Vientre blanco
Libertad negra
sobre
Libertad blanca
Semilla negra
sobre
Semilla blanca
Azul negro
sobre
Azul blanco
Electricidad negra
sobre
Electricidad blanca
Miel negra
sobre
Miel blanca
Color negro
sobre
Color blanco
Sol negro
sobre
Sol blanco
Arcoiris negro
sobre
Arcoiris blanco
Ray Charles negro
sobre
Ray Charles blanco
Espejo negro
sobre
Espejo blanco
Beatles negros
sobre
Beatles blancos
Hollywood negro
sobre
Hollywood blanco
Guerrillas negras
sobre
Guerrillas blancos
Che negro
sobre
Che blanco
Hells Angels negro
sobre
Hells Angels blanco
Orgasmo negro
sobre
Orgasmo blanco
Internet negro
sobre
Internet blanco
Muros negros
sobre
Muros blancos
Rock-n-roll negro
sobre
Rock-n-roll blanco
Locura negra
sobre
Locura blanca
Invincible negro
sobre
Invincible blanco
Sudor negro
sobre
Sudor blanco
Historia negra
sobre
Historia blanca
Micrófono negro
sobre
Microfono blanco
Bocina negra
sobre
Bocina blanca
Delirio negro
sobre 
Delirio blanco
Jerarquía negra
sobre
Jerarquía blanca
Horizonte negro
sobre
Horizonte blanco
Música negra
sobre
Música blanca
Tierra negra
sobre
Tierra blanca
Verdad negra
sobre
Verdad blanca
Lágrimas negras
sobre
Lágrimas blancas
Niñas negras
sobre
Niñas blancas
Continente negro
sobre
Continente blanco
Africa negra
sobre
Europa blanca
Aztlán negro
sobre
Aztlán blanco
Pulmones negros
sobre
Pulmones blancos
Alegría negra
sobre
Alegría blanca
Negro negro
sobre
Blanco blanco
Mestizaje negro
sobre
Mestizaje blanco
Misterio negro
sobre
Misterio blanco
Diosa negra
sobre
Diosa blanca
Virgen negra
sobre
Virgen blanca
Cielo negro
sobre
Cielo blanco
Luz negra
sobre
Luz blanca
Filosofía negra
sobre
Filosofía blanca
Venas negras
sobre
Venas blancas
Ríos negros
sobre
Ríos blancos
Lodo negro
sobre
Lodo blanco
Huracanes negros
sobre
Huracanes blancos
Naturaleza negra
sobre
Naturaleza blanca
Todo negro
sobre
Todo blanco
Europa negra
sobre
Europa blanca
Negra
sobre
Blanca
Negro
sobre
Blanco
manos sombras cuerpos tranquilidades ternuras negrablanca…

*

Sunday, July 14, 2013

From somewhere in East Oakland, imagining a different community of communities


Arnoldo Garcia

Blinded by Color, Unbound by Place: Trayvon Martin

Dedicated to my children and our future together
To the youth, the boys and girls in my neighborhood struggling to live and to their present together.

We must defend ourselves, you and me, from whiteness, white supremacy.

George Zimmerman was Latino? Was Zimmerman a white Hispanic? No. Zimmerman is a Hispanic/Latino mask with a white soul. There are no such humans, Latino, white. (There are Hispanics, but he isn’t one.) Additionally, there are few if any Latino or Brown on Black killings. This is another subject we have to talk about, when our Mexican youth hurt and kill other Mexican youth, when our African American youth hurt and kill other African American youth. Where is the outrage, the breaking of windows, the marches, the call for responsibility and safety, the disarming of the violence when Norteño kills Sureño? Black on Black, Brown on Brown violence is also police violence. Where do the guns and ammo come from, who licenses the arms and weapons that flood our communities, who regulates and distributes the guns, rifles, the violence and coercion that make our neighborhoods unsafe?

The Zimmerman murder of Trayvon Martin was a racist murder, a white violence that is terrorizing us all, a white supremacy that has hundreds of years of violent practice in violent subjugation and genocide and prisons and schools and the mentalities that permit them. Whiteness is not an illusion; it is very real and yet it is a delusion.

We are all very specific, concrete people. If you consider yourself white and antiracist, you are still part of the racist problem. If you consider yourself Latino and are antiracist you are still part of the racist problem. I feel troubled when I hear partner activists, who are progressive and still say they are white. Whiteness must be berated and negated, not the people who claim that identity. We have to separate the whites from the whiteness and that will take some real work. Whiteness has caused and continues causing harm and trauma to our communities of colors. Whiteness is a bipolar world, i.e. insanity with state power and institutions that make us believe, coerces us, imprisons us in cages or classrooms, that whiteness is the ultimate form of humanness.

White is a color, not a culture, not a people. The same goes for black. Black is a color, not a culture, not a people. White, black, brown, these are the identities of racialization, homogenization, which are the function and power of colonization, empire and imperialism over our consciousness and communities, the destruction of our very being and powers.

I am not oblivious (or too ignorant either) of the historical nature of these identities. To destroy and dismantle whiteness, it is not enough for us to call ourselves people of color, Black, Brown. Whites have to stop calling themselves whites and take responsibility for the legacy they have lived and are living under, the privilege of racialized empire-building and the American dream.

Black is beautiful. So is white beautiful? Brown is beautiful. Are those the only colors of the rainbow and the natural world that are beautiful? Is beauty in the gaze of the beholder? Is beauty a racial justice struggle like demanding justice for Trayvon? If Zimmerman is Latino, does that change the nature of the murder he committed against Trayvon Martin? Or must he be white, as I am arguing, for the nature of the killing to change?

What the verdict does not change and can never change is that a white man killed a Black, African American teenager. This story will never change. This is the story that we must change.

So many questions; so much rage and so little time to answer all of them. And Trayvon Martin and hundreds of other African America and Mexican, Salvadoran, Guatemalan, Honduran, Purepecha, Mixtec, Zapotec, et. al., are still dead from police violence or zombies in perpetual prison or endless criminalization.

We are not minorities either. Minority is a political project of colonialism and then U.S. imperial designs. A minority is a person, a place and a people who lack self-determination and vision – which are imposed by the so-called “majority.” The U.S. plans the future of all peoples and that future is for them to become minorities. (Note: if we count all whites the way whites count us in the Census, whites would be the minorities: 5% German there, 5% Irish there [I know, I know, Irish are not white, but who’s counting?], 5% Anglos here, 5% French, 3% Scottish, 15% Indio or Mexican – boom!)

We are not undocumented. We have enough documents to proof our history and existence that goes back at least 15,000 years. We just do not have the documents that prove we are a minority that knows its place in the uni-polarized world of the U.S. That is the purvey of immigration authority: you are not here and you do not exist until we say who you are and that you exist to serve us, disposable, deportable, guest worker, bracero, immigrant.

I am not a Latino. I am a Mexican. And even then I am a very specific type of Mexican, descended from Palestinian and Purepecha black and indio roots.

In the struggle for liberation and clarity in revolutionary transformations and reforms, civil rights and human rights and neo-liberalism, I have been dubbed Mexican, white, Mexican-American, Mexican American, Chicano, Hispanic, Latino, Brown (another color of racialization, etc.). Now we have the choice of Hispanic. Oh, I am not nor ever will be from Hispania.

In another country in the Americas, for example, you can buy your whiteness, literally, without changing your color. You have money, you buy a document that declares you white.

You can do the same thing in the U.S. You can get your whiteness in the U.S. in one of two ways: With money and with identity (or both). What we are called, what we call ourselves, is the struggle for a new type of self-determination and liberty.

First strategy: Get rich (or die trying?) – or at least become part of the stable working class, i.e. middle class. And you buy your way into the gated communities or at least afford to live in the gentrified neighborhoods or districts where at least 12-15% of the residents are white. Violá – you are not white but you have bought the trappings of safety and wellbeing that whites enjoy without even a second thought about how they got this way.

How do you know you live in a gentrified neighborhood or district? Call the police for assistance and see how long it takes them to arrive or if they even show up.

The second way to buy whiteness is through identity.

Call yourself Hispanic, Latino. Poof you are white. Hispanic, Latino means: “Hey, you can’t deport me! I pay taxes; I work legitimately. I am not ‘Black.’ I am hard working, tax-paying family man. I am not a criminal!”

Agree to forget your history and your past and delude yourself into thinking that you are not the color of your dark skin, that you are not from here, and no one else will notice because you say who you are and you live in the right neighborhood.

And both of these and other ways are delusional. You are not white, you are black. You are not Hispanic, you are Mexican.

You are not Mexican, you are an Indio, an Indian who has been here longer than anyone else who is NOT Indio.

Your are not middle class, you are not rich; you are hand-to-mouth, paycheck to paycheck working class bum, filled with anxiety and worry that you will become unemployed, unemployable, homeless and black or worse end up in the barrio or ghetto.

I am not a Hispanic. Note: There are Hispanics, people who are from Spain or descended from Spanish who settle her in colonies and made colonization a way of life; who spoke Castilian, the language of the castle-imperial kings/queens. There is a 350+year old Hispanic community that settled and continues living in a region straddled by New Mexico and Colorado in the U.S. southwest. The royal academy of the Spanish language has studied this Hispanic region for years because 15th or 16th century Spanish is still spoken there.

Hispanic is also a synonym for whiteness; Hispanics are from Europe, hence white. To erase Indios and Mexicans from the U.S., sometime in the 1960s and 1970s, the state power decided to count us Hispanic. Poof, you’re gone.

When dark-skinned Mexicans want to delude themselves, they say they are Hispanics, when they are indigenous and have been here longer than anyone else, free or slave, black or white, European, Asian, African.

Hispanic is a very recent creation, a tool of subordination, domination and soul crushing destruction of people. The Hispanics themselves, Spaniards, Spanish, created this identity to crush the indigenous peoples of what is now Spain: Basques, etc.

I am not an American in the U.S. “American” as an identity in the U.S. has been confiscated, expropriated, corroded and made unusable for everyone except whites. In my world, América is a continent not a country.

American is a synonym for whiteness and Americans barely tolerate anyone else using it. In their imperial, neocolonial kindness, whites are doing to us what they did to themselves. By changing their names, they gave themselves the authority to take whatever they wanted, all for short-term gain and long-term, continual disaster upon the world’s peoples and the natural world herself.

In the end, none of this is important if we do not stand up for Trayvon Martin and hundreds, maybe tens of thousands of other victims of racist violence. More critical, can we prevent this from happening again? Will you befriend, mentor all the Trayvon Martins of my neighborhood or are you afraid of Black and Brown Buffalo youth, boys and girls, men and women, hooded and unhooded, middle class or homeless?

I do not want to see another movie of our tragedies made. Why didn’t anyone make a movie of Oscar Grant when he was alive? Why didn’t we care nationally or even locally about Trayvon before he became Trayvon? What about Zimmerman? He is still the killer and will be for all time. Will he find redemption? How does he continue living with blood on his hands? How does the U.S. continue functioning with so much war, blood, injustices and suffering at home and abroad? Will we prevent another Zimmerman from appearing? Will I throw myself in front of the bullets meant for my Trayvon, will you?

*
P.S. we must talk, all of us of all the colors and pigments. We must talk to say who we are, where we are at and where we are going. We can exist without this world, we can thrive as communities in a different relationship. The U.S. formation is not the only world possible. Our language, our vocabularies, our self-determined beings, our relationships can change to make good our lives; we all want to be in a better relationship than the ones that permitted the emergence of Zimmermans and the criminalization of the Trayvons and the violence and coercion that codified it. We are the ones who can make this possible by being different and sometimes just by being who we are supposed to be.

Notes, Oakland, July 14, 2013.


Thursday, April 11, 2013

[Poema 11] Mixtery in South Africa



Language to language
our words in different lands
speak to each other
call to each other
sister brother blood
the solution is our words, our place
hear each other talk
hear each other walk
hear each other
the same words the same
listen
to our tongues
divide the sylabbles
to unite the wind, to share the howling
the answer the reply the mirror the shadow my sun
the topography of your tongue
my words are in yours
my anger my muddiness my crystalline ink
in your language your place.


Rescue yourself
rescue community
rescue the land
rescue all our relations
wind, dust, water, suns
ancestral flesh
ancestral bones
a commune of the tongue
rescue time
rescue space
rescue our cosmic skin
hang the moon
on our tongue
rescue the imprisoned
recue the freedomed
rescue our words,
our words: word,
the skin of our struggle,
our world.



Rescue
each other's silence
record each others imprint, growl, guttural scribbles
grabar engrave tatoo transparent skins
grape-words that can be gently squeezed out of their skins
listen to each other we say the same things
differently.
We succumb to each other, we feed each other, we clothe,
we heal, we love, we abandon each other, we
cry, we dream each other, we haunt each tother
we wake each other, we remember, we forget,
we impress each other, we are made of each other, we
fight each other, we make up, we feel each other, we disappear and reappear
we lust over each other,
we need each other, we can't live without words,
with words, each other, with words or
their silent stares or aging silence
or new-born echoes. Our words are our food,
the only food with no obesity or obsolescence or
obsidian gushes that split open the tongue.
We wreck each other's words or we become one,
a tiny wound of immutable love or a wound that overcomes.



Our words are maps, topography, flesh offerings,
molecules of our being. Language herself finds
her counterparts in other and other's languages.
Language is the sister of water. Language rolls
down and rolls, waves, shells, along the ground
of our tongues and consciousness to purify herself,
to rid herself of
any subjectivities that might kill her or lead to suicide
and objects extraneous to herself or she ingests them,
gestates them into new verbal wings. Language
too coughs and wheezes, clears her throat,
syllabilizes, rolls and waves off our tongues
to become consciousness, in order to change the world or,
in our case, to restore ourselves to put place in the natural world
-- not to its redeeming past -- to a new world where
humans are subordinate once again, offspring
caring of the earth. Then the words take on
their opponents with salival ease: hopelessness,
imprisonment has no chance with language's
hopefulness, liberty -- preferable to but mentor to
free-dom, free-with boundaries, with hierarchy-dom,
whereas being free, is being boundless, liberated. Poets,
free poets, resistance poets, alternative poets, organizer poets, activist poets, community-based poets
have to first ride their tongues to struggle and
to offer clarity, flesh, sisterhood, contradiction, muddy waters,
ears that kiss, listening that fasts, scraped lungs, calloused eyes, attentive
hearts, risk everything to face the microchip-industrial
information-electronic web complex so that she would
be herself again, so that we could speak again
with the land, with ourselves.

[Excerpt from my diary and notes taken down in conversations, meetings and other human formations during travel in Johannesburg-Durban, South Africa. August 2001.]

Excerpts of a painting commissioned by the National Network for Immigrant and Refugees (NNIRR), by Daniel Camacho, for the NNIRR delegation that participated in the U.N. World Conference against Racism held in Durban, South Africa, August-September 2011.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Hispanics.

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Hispanics
NOTES.
arnoldo garcía

When you do not know the U.S. racial history of words, U.S. racial history period, and continue using them uncritically, the danger is that you will reproduce racism at a higher level.

Recently, (see my  twitter timeline for 140 character rants), I replied to an Occupy Oakland tweet that referenced an article about Bank of America ripping off African Americans and [sic] Hispanics. I replied: Decolonize occupy plus something to the effect that majority of us "Hispanics" are not "Hispanics" and majority are indigenous and Afro-descendents. There are Hispanics in the U.S. just like there are Mexicans, Salvadorans, Guaremalans, Cubans, Nicaraguans, Chileans, Brazilians, Colombians, etc.

So lumping us together as "Hispanics" is not accidental -- why not lump us as "Mexicans," the majority of "Hispanics" in the U.S.? I bet you the Hispanics would be up in arms -- which wouldn't be a bad idea; they have done that before and beautifully.

 Don't get me wrong. I don't believe for one moment that the U.S. Southwest belongs to Mexico -- or the U.S. Here in Oakland, we are on Ohlone land. You can't erase the past. It might take a long time to retake it, relocate ourselves in the natural world. The triple conquest, the triple occupation of Indian lands and the colonializaion of many mentalities to make some believe they're white and others Hispanic, won't be overcome easily.

The history of anti-Mexican racism in the U.S. needs more action and discussion. In sum, why Hispanic and not Mexican, or Indian... to name us?

Before the 1960s came to a head, Texas and the rest of the U.S. used to count Mexicans as "white" during the Census. After the 1960s civil rights movements rocked the foundations of the U.S., we started being counted as Hispanics. Before the government christened us "Hispanics," to count Mexiicans would have been political suicide for Texas and other regions of the Southwest where we have been the "majority" for decades or what seems like forever.

When the U.S. government decided to name and lump us as Hispanic, the (internalized and not so internalized) racism we have all been subjected to made self-hatred and racism easier to maintain. Because Hispanic divided us racially and helped whiteify or bleach the mentality of the darker, indian and black Mexican and others who maybe did not want to be dark skinned, black in a white hierarchy of pain. Hispanic, now you're one of us, white, well almost white, if you can act like there's no Border Patrol and race police checkpoints....