Repatriation Rant

We the colonized work to decolonize ourselves, then turn on one another from wounds too vulnerable, too raw to bear.  We lash out at one another.  The enemy is too far, too inaccessible.  We realize.  In shame, we retreat. 

Miseducation of a Nation

It is time to focus on the colonial classroom, the empire’s primary battleground.  The threat goes beyond school closures.  It includes the continued attack on the one public university system in Puerto Rico.  It is embodied by a white North American secretary of education with an inflated salary, while her school children constituents are sacrificed at the austerity table of odious debt.  It resounds in the arresting, pepper spraying and tear gassing of people protesting injustices like these. Ultimately the colonial battle is waged daily on the minds and on the psyches of the colonized, with schools cunningly crafted for the conformity and conditioning of the colonial subject. 

Repatriate your body

My broken body colonized Was the space of incubation In which I myself Had to craft and manifest their liberation Through it I could envision doing the same for myself

Maria: Photos from home

Most moments of my day I’m trying to figure out a plan to acquire my own piece of land, to make my lifestyle completely sustainable, to embody the liberation that I strive to practice daily until we can acquire it fully.  But sometimes the spirit needs to stop and look at the photos. Honor the moments, the memories, the lessons.

Borikén Holidays Repatriated

The vast expanse of charco that separates you from your loved ones dissipates in the glow of parranda lights. They serpentine through las carreteras del valle del pueblo de Moca and up this hill. The sound of sadness is swallowed by sirens that guide aguinaldo asaltos blaring music and song from barrio to barrio. Your... Continue Reading →

Diasporic Homesick

It happens at random, unexpected, un-welcomed times. It happens with flashes of images, of sites, of memories imprinted in your mind. Flash of a desolate Atlantic Avenue heading into Jamaica, Queens. Flash of bunnies hopping over ancestral graves in Cypress Hills cemetery where Schomburg, Houdini and your whole departed family are buried. Flash of the... Continue Reading →

Let There Be Light!

I took a break from this blog… because deadlines happen; because other projects happen; because life happens; because sometimes you lose light and water.  Here, we have an agreement. All work/ art/ architecture related deadlines coming through this home/ office/ studio space are to be completed the day before or earlier.  We must allow at... Continue Reading →

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