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Last revised: December 1, 1996
So I Grew Two Voices
In this issue we have a guest writer, a young woman who lived in our community for awhile and did wonderful and necessary work. For about two months she worked for a "progressive" organization in Santa Rosa and her poem reflects that experience. She has since moved to the Bay Area, and has requested that her name not be printed here.
An Average Day
by La Maverick Mujer
Today I came to work in mis chanclas
pink rubber slabs paddling the soles of my feet
irritating and nurturing the calluses between my toes
and I panicked as I looked down at the gas pedal en route to jale
Holy Shit, I forgot to change into my shoes
debating should I turn around, endure the day as a fashion mistake or buy
a new pair of something at a cheapie zapateria
but the cheapest sandals at Mervyn's were ugly viejita naugahyde tennies
and of course the only shoe I liked cost 36 bolas.
And I said fuck it, chanclas it shall be.
If I weren't La Guerita Chicana Professional with a grimy office, yet an
office all the same,
would I be worrying?
What if I were La Chicana que Limpia Casas, la Fruit Picker, la Nana,
La Name your low paying Mujer Jale
Would I or anyone else for that matter give a shit about my footwear?
So then I get to work, slapping chanclas and all
and I get asked the question yet again
"What is it dear that you want us to call you?
So and so said that you said that Hispanic wasn't OK
Well, our Hispanic friends don't mind that name!"
And I said of course not, no Hispanic would mind
But a Xicana would
"Well," they continued, "we understand that Latino is acceptable but you
have that VILE poster of some Paisano over there with that wretchedly big
mustache and horrific gun saying
We're Mexicans, Not Latinos, Not Hispanics, and something like Viva La such
and such.
What are you trying to incite? Revolution or something?
Un Tequila, Two Tequila, Tres Tequila, Four...
Soy La exotic senorita fantasy,
The full breasts heaving through the blusa,
the body of Christo Rey hanging over my inviting tetas
nestling in the valley created by my voluptuousity
Soy La paradox of the fiery mujer, the Madonna or the Whore?
You see me as a Taqueria Calendar character, bullets crossed over the
aforementioned Chi-Chis
The Romantic Revolutionary Adelita singing corridos and dancing La Vals
riding the trains with the fervor of Zapata and Villa igniting my loins.
BOOM
I'm your token beaner.
When my opinion is needed, I'm taken off my shelf and dusted off,
placed in the table's centerpiece like a Fiesta Floral Spray
poured a Peach Margarita, offered a 7 layer Nacho dip and Enchilada Casserole,
and asked to opine on illegals, Frida Kahlo, Selena, Like Water For Chocolate.
Then non-chalantly returned to the social curio cabinet
atop an ashtray that says Recuerdo de Mazatlan
next to the huarache key chain and below the chipped plaster Quinto Sol.
chanclas - - thongs
jale (HA-lay) - - job, gig
La Guerita Chicana - - The light skinned Chicana
La Chicana que limpia casas - -The Chicana that cleans houses
mujer jale - - womans job
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