Tag Archives: Cristina Rivera

11/4/21

The War on Children

The horrors of mutilated dead bodies on display in a city are real and severe. I lived in Mexico though 2005-2016. Personally, I had never witnessed any of these bodies. However, some of my friends had. They never really explained it or spoke about it, but you could tell their demeanor had changed. Stories of children being kidnapped and ransomed by the cartel were also fairly common. No one I knew, but friends of friends of friends. The threat was real, but I never really understood the extent of it.

There were some moments in which it became clearer. I would see military vehicles often on my way to school. They served as a reminder of the war on drugs. Even 10-year-olds knew there was a high likely hood the government officials were on their payroll. Being a kid I didn’t pay much attention to it outside of when it directly affected me or those I knew. My parents did a good job of sheltering me from it. 

Reading Rivera’s depiction of the horrors and terrorism of the cartel-run state, my perspective has been broadened. I haven’t really heard stories with any first-person perspective or with vivid imagery until this reading. To a degree, I resented the lack of freedom I had as a kid. It was difficult for me to understand why I couldn’t go to the Oxxo (the dominant corner store chain in the country) a few blocks away from my compound with my friends. The claimant open-end my eyes as to the fear my parents had given the situation. The poem oozes the sorrow and grief the mother must feel and I have grown thankful for my parent’s protection of me. Poems can help make sense of your own life.

11/4/21

My Body Belongs to the State

Through the excerpts of Grieving, Cristina Rivera voices the tiredness of simply existing in a state whose interests lie in the profit of your suffering (pg. 22). As Mexican citizens, our dignity, and sovereignty are robbed through violent means to enrich a few. Our path is laid out before even being born, our body will not belong to us but to the Mexican Narco-State. We do not get to dictate our safety and define our bodily autonomy. Instead, violence infiltrates both public and private spheres. There is no corner of Mexico where one can isolate from corruption and its exercise of violence. Equally, there is no corner where justice can be found (pg. 21). Furthermore, we do not hold ownership over our labour, and we are constantly robbed of self-sufficiency (pg 4-5). Thus, the State simultaneously deprives us of justice while not allowing us to access alternatives outside State structures (pg. 4). Our integrity and bodily autonomy are non-existent, and despite the different cycles of historical and political contexts, the outcome is the same: our bodies do not belong to us. The body is the most personal and only ‘guaranteed’ form of ownership that follows us until death. Yet, the Mexican Narco-State and corrupted allies have found ways in which to infringe our last resort of dignity.  

Additionally, intersecting gender identities further creates the helplessness that Rivera speaks about. The State embodies patriarchal and capitalist notions of power, which trickle down to everyday violence, with women and gender non-conforming identities being primary targets. We are defenceless to the State’s “Why Should I Care?” attitude (pg. 5). While providing the example of Señorita Signatory, Rivera says, “her organs were a question of the state” (pg. 20). Although the example is from 1939, 80 years later, the conditions in which Mexican society finds itself are the same. Our bodies and the autonomy associated with simply ‘being’ are continually violated to accommodate State interests while leaving the rest of us in an agonizing state of survival.