Emerging: Mi Cultura..Mi Jornada-My Culture..My Journey

A poem for men who don't understand what we mean, when we say men have "it."

Privilege is simple.
Going for a pleasant stroll after dark.
Not checking the back of your car as you get in,
sleeping soundly.
Speaking without interruption
and not remembering dreams of rape,
that follow you all day,

that woke you crying,
and Privilege is not seeing your stripped, humiliated body
plastered in celebrationacross every magazine rack.

Is going to the movies and not seeing yourself terrorized,
defamed,
battered, butchered
seeing something else.

Privilege is Riding your bicycle across town without being screamed at
or run off the road,
not needing an abortion,
taking off your shirt on a hot day, in a crowd,
not wishing you could type better just in case,
not shaving your legs,
having a decent job and expecting to keep it,
not feeling the boss's hand up your crotch,
dozing off on late-night busses,

Privilege is being the hero in the TV show not the dumb broad,
living where your genitals are not denied
knowing your doctor won't rape you.

Privilege is being smiled at all day by nice helpful women
it is the way you pass judgment on their appearance with magisterial authority,
the way you face a judge of your own sex in court

and are over-represented in Congress
and are not strip searched for a traffic ticket or used as a dart board
by your friendly mechanic.

Privilege is

seeing your bearded face reflected through the history texts
not only of your high school days but all your life,
not being relegated to a paragraph every other chapter,
the way you occupy entire volumes of poetry
and more than your share of the couch unchallenged.
It is your mouthing smug, atrocious insults at women

who blink and change the subject politely.

Privilege is how seldom the rapist's name appears in the papers
and the way you smirk over your PLAYBOY.

It's simple really,
Privilege means someone else's pain,
your wealth is my terror,
your uniform is a woman raped to death here, or in Cambodia or wherever
wherever your obscene Privilege writes your name in my blood,
it's that simple,
you've always had it,
that's why it doesn't seem to make you sick to your stomach,
you have it,
we pay for it,
now do you understand?
------------by D. A. Clarke 1981

I felt myself die yesterday, twice! No, I am not crazy. What I have is visions, premonitions, etc... I hate it because I never get enough to be of any help! Some have told me to try and work with it to make it stronger, but they don't feel the things I feel when I am going through one!

Sometimes it comes in slowly, like a picture through a hazy mist, sometimes it starts kind of water-colored, other times its just BAM! Right there! I've had this since I was a kid, no, I don't remember exactly when it started. Though I remember many of the dreams I had as a kid that came true. My mom never freaked because she too would get them, she understood that I had this "gift" though I don't think even she understood why. Anyway, I digress...

Yesterday---I laid down, tired, feeling nauseous. Tried to take a nap, and couldn't. My middle child was getting ready to go out, and I start to feel anxious about everything, my insides start to quiver. I know what's coming, so I call my Oldest into my room. I explain what's happening and she tells her sister that she can't leave yet, to wait 'cause I'm having one of my visions. They both come into the room, and start to ask me what I see (they do this as it helps me).

I see the color yellow coming in, looks almost like a rectangle of yellow but looks like someone took a pencil and shaded in the edges. I start to see the color green like it's spilling on top of the yellow, it's tree branches. Suddenly I feel this bang to my left temple, like a quick explosion of pain, then... I see red kind of seeping into unto the yellow from the side. I see a young girl, blonde, short hair, I see me/her (I know it to be her Spirit) just sit up, look around, no pain, no confusion... the words come into my head.. it is what it is. Shit! I want out of this! one of my daughters asked me if I was seeing a car accident, I say, I am not sure, but I think so, do I see other cars, is there someone else in the car with her, NO! just her, and she's gone. but then I see a man behind a counter, this one I am looking at like I am outside looking in. He is giving a bag to a young girl at the counter, it's a convenience store, I must be standing at the door as you walk in because I can see both the man behind the counter and the girl, she has brown hair, she is smiling, she has a dark dress on with a small flower print on it, as she walks by me and out of the store, I hear myself thinking, my God, she doesn't know that she will not make it home today! I start crying, I could hear my daughters asking me if I want to pull out, but I can't, I never can, I need to finish it any way it wants to end. I see a tigers face, my daughters ask questions, is it this is it that? No, it's like a symbol, a symbol on a sign. I can tell this is different, I don't feel like it could be connected to the first one but it could be, I just don't know!!! I see brown boots, no heels, leather, you can tell because they look comfortable, broken in, she loves those boots. There it is, I see the boot looks like it's coming off, but it's not, she's been hit by something. She is laying there in an awkward position, then it's me, I can feel my life/her life slowly seeping away, it's as if the light is dimming slowly slowly. It stops, I cry, I feel such a loss, my heart feels like its breaking, I feel myself rocking side to side,I'm rubbing my chest, I hear my daughters telling me to let it go. I am finally able to. I am depressed the rest of the day, I don't much feel like doing anything but let myself feel miserable, and numb. I put this in here today, couldn't do it yesterday.

En mi viejo San Juan
Cuantos sueños forjé
En mis noches de infancia.
Mi primera ilusión
Y mis quitas de amor
Son recuerdos del alma.

Una tarde partí
Hacia extraña nación
Pues lo quiso el destino;
Pero mi corazón
Se quedó frente al mar
En mi viejo San Juan.

Adiós (adiós adiós)
Borinquen querida
(dueña de mi amor)
Adiós (adiós adiós)
Mi diosa del mar
(mi reina del palmar)

Me voy (ya me voy)
Pero un día volveré
a buscar mi querer
a soñar otra vez
en mi viejo San Juan.

Pero el tiempo pasó
Y el destino burló
Mi terrible nostalgia.
Y no pude volver
Al San Juan que yo amé
Pedacito de Patria.

Mi cabello blanqueó
Ya mi vida se va
Ya la muerte me llama.
Y no quiero morir
Alejado de ti
Puerto Rico del alma.
Adiós ...
-----by Noel Estrada

ahhh, Puerto Rico, mi Isla del Encanto!
No me doy por Vencida, aqui estoy
esperando el dia en que pueda volver.

For those of you that may not know... This is not our true Anthem but to most Puerto Rican's this means to us what the Star Spangled Banner is to North American's. The Latina in me cries every time I hear my song, just as the part of me that has grown up American cries when I hear the Red, White, and Blue.