Tag Archives: Lozada-Oliva

12/15/21

The Desire to Belong: Lozada-Oliva’s Multimedia Exploration of Identity

Amid detective stories and commentaries on mid-20th century politics,
Lozada-Oliva’s writing, centering on the experience of being a second-generation American,
immediately stood out. As a child of immigrants, her description of having simultaneous desires
to assimilate to the predominant culture and to embrace her parents’ cultures (and ultimately, a
desire to simply belong to and be able to identify with one of those cultures) especially resonated
with me. What struck me the most was the contrast between reading and hearing her poems, and
how each form brought a new perspective to her writing yet conveyed the same message—for
example, I found her speaking voice to be more assertive than her writing voice, which seemed
more timid. My paper will compare the differences and similarities in the two forms of poetry,
and how her more casual, almost stream of consciousness tone contributed to the sense of
desperation to belong and the dissonance between her and those around her: both her
Guatemalan mother and her American friends. As well, the devices often used throughout her
poems, such as the inclusion of Spanish or Spanglish words and phrases, the use of irregular
punctuation for emphasis rather than for clarity, and how the themes she focuses on in these two
pieces specifically connect with each other and with the ulterior theme of identity and belonging.
I’ll discuss how her poetry compares to her nonfiction writing and to Sandra Cisneros’ writing,
which she names as her hero in one of her interviews. My biggest challenge will be finding
secondary resources for the historical context of these poems, as her writing is based less on a
specific time period and more on a specific experience. I certainly have a lot in terms of analysis
on the poetic form, her spoken performance, and the themes of the poems themselves, but I will
have to work on backing these opinions up with other sources as well as situating her writing
within historical and cultural context.

12/4/21

Sacrificing a Language

“My Spanish” reflects on Lozada-Oliva’s relationship with the language as she grows up, and as someone in a similar situation as the author, the opening and closing stanzas stood out to me the most, especially “…my Spanish is an itchy phantom limb. / It is reaching for words / and only finding air” (2-4). Though my parents spoke almost exclusively with me in Spanish when I was young, I switched to English soon after beginning school and began to lose my familiarity with Spanish, something I initially regarded as unimportant since we would only speak it at home. As I grew older my inability to connect with my relatives in Mexico pushed me to relearn the language, though I found that I was missing the ease with which I once communicated, and every sentence was a struggle to form in time to keep a conversation⁠—this in turn resulted in me speaking less in Spanish when I could, despite knowing that practice would only improve my fluency, because I felt that sticking with English was easier.

Though I knew that my parents had undoubtedly struggled with the same thing when learning English, it wasn’t until much later that I realized how much effort they had to put in on a daily basis. The end of the ninth and tenth stanzas, where Lozada-Oliva questions their identity as Americans, and then comments on her parents’ accents, also resonated with me for this reason. In an English-speaking country where an accent can be associated with status, I felt a bit sad to think I was so willing to let go of my heritage and my closeness with extended family in favour of what I used to perceive as the more important or relevant language⁠.

12/3/21

Hidden metaphors

When I first listened to/read “How to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse as an 82-year-old Guatemalan Grandmother” I understood the zombie part of it as it was: a grandmother trying to save herself in an apocalypse. But when I started talking to Conor in the small group discussion, he brought up the idea that maybe it’s a metaphor for the grandmother escaping her abusive husband.

Lozada-Oliva describes the woman as a grandmother, but it could be that she’s also referring to her as a younger woman trying to fight society and the toxic people around her. She packs up her things, says goodbye to the bird, gets dressed, and leaves her apartment to become a “warrior” (5). If this is what Lozada-Oliva meant to do, it’s very interesting that she would tell this all at the age that the grandmother is. I found that it added humor to the narration, especially in the verbal version of it: “go back into your apartment because you forgot your diabetes medication” (4).

The connection to the escape from her household is clarified in the 5th stanza of the poem where her strength and dedication to leave her home is described. She was a woman who immigrated to the United States and had to get through many hurdles, including the language barrier, education system, and then alcoholic husband. Despite her mother’s and society’s disappointment, this woman is able to prove herself and put a meal on the table every day for her children.

In the final few lines of the poem, she talks to her granddaughters and maybe even women in general when she says “I’m coming girls”. This could also be an inspirational message to women who are in similar situations to the protagonist, telling them that they too can “push back their sleeves” and make it through anything, even a zombie apocalypse.

12/1/21

My Chinese

Lozada–Oliva’s poem “My Spanish” imparts foresight to what future generations of Chinese might experience here in Canada as well. This is particularly relevant to me due to being a first generation Chinese, Canadian citizen myself. Unlike the author, instead of being born in Canada, I moved here with my family when I was just five years old. In these 14 years in Canada, I have lost so many aspects of my previous cultural practices and traditions. Even now, the loss of the foundation of my original spoken language speaks volumes to the length at which it is lost. Due to this poem, the previously unfathomable thought of the next generation’s personal identity struggles are now in light. Therefore, I emphasize and understand Lozada-Oliva’s struggles and grievances as a 2nd+ generation of Hispanic American, although it may be at a different level. I struggle with the answers whenever someone asks me if I am fluent in Mandarin or Cantonese because I honestly do not know. Just like Lozada-Oliva, my language is a worn out photo of the past. Half of it muscle memory, and the other half gobbled up by the media that I consumed.  Yet, I still remember like a foggy memory of the past, shining like the light at the end of the tunnel, but it is merely the start.