Tag Archives: week12

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.

12/3/21

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.

12/2/21

Spanish as a living being.

The poem “My Spanish” by Melissa Lozada-Olivia brings into life “Spanish” as more than a language. From my personal view, I interpreted the poem as full of emotions and  very attached to the author’s heritage. Spanish is not only a language, it goes beyond that. She portrays Spanish as a living being who at the same time has grown up with her and has accompanied her during her life journey. Yet, this companion becomes distant with time and the bond between her Spanish and her  seems to be  getting weak since Spanish is becoming a memory of a painful past of her parents. Therefore, I believe she expresses Spanish as an identity that is becoming a shadow, yet, this shadow will never abandon her fully because her heritage cannot be erased. I found beautiful the fact that Melissa gives personification to Spanish to emphasize her roots and how relevant in her life it became. Personally, I found very touching the way she gave life to it, addressing it as if Spanish was a living being. In addition, the emotions were so powerful and moving. All her poem is very rich in metaphors that offer even more symbolisms and representations of “Spanish” beyond limits. Overall, I think “My Spanish” is a powerful poem carried with deep emotions.

12/2/21

listen up!!!!

I wanted to talk about Lozada-Oliva’s spoken word/slam poems for this weeks’ blog post! I loved listening to her pieces in class, because the ways in which viewing the poem versus reading the poem changed the tone of it really stood out for me. Without her intonations, her facial expressions, and even the way she looked around the room at her audience, as well as the shape of her mouth and her particular pronunciations, the *fire* of the poem was gone (in my opinion). Reading the poem on paper gave it a more “somber” tone, and I found myself moving through it at a much slower pace than how Lozada-Oliva read it; the voice inside my head interpreted the poem to be monotone, serious, and much more “flat.” In fact, I had to read it several times in order to grasp what she was saying – in the spoken poem, her underlying “theme” was more evident, simply because of her supercharged presence.

This all made me think about how the genre of slam poetry really is a productive site for making highly charged political or emotional claims. Literature, essays, articles and presentations are effective to an extent – but imagine only READING Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech, instead of hearing him SPEAK it out loud! (alternatively, imagine if professors just posted the transcriptions of all their lectures…) There’s something powerful about the way we can manipulate tone, the cadence of our voice, etc. to produce a response from an audience, and while the written word is powerful, I think the spoken word is more emotive and affective – for those willing to listen.

11/27/21

Luiselli Style

Luiselli has a unique writing style that is unlike any other author we have seen thus far. Luiselli uses humor to relieve tension in the text. Whenever the novel covers a disturbing or tragic piece of nonfiction, there is almost always some kind of humorous jab to go with it. She speaks of irony, giving the reader time to laugh and think, then proceeds to describe the irony in immaculate detail. By doing this, Luiselli stalls the reader long enough to then make them less sensitive to the tragic content that is the target of the irony. Furthermore, unlike other authors, Luiselli does not leave much to be read in between the lines, she tends to extrapolate so much that even the least critical reader has an extremely easy time to understand the points she is trying to convey. She pours out all of her thoughts and feelings of the topic at hand throughout the novel; thus,  it is like how the reader is looking into a glimpse of her mind. The reader, captivated by what she thinks and what she thinks others think, is then pulled into the story that she is trying to portray, the narrative that she is attempting to tell. Although Luiselli’s writing style works wonders for the readers that actually read it, the form is not the best for attracting new audiences or keeping the reader involved, since it is very long compared to other short stories we have read as well as how Luiselli goes off in a tangent of long sentences just like the ones in this post.

11/27/21

The humor of trauma

What stuck with me the most from Luiselli’s text is the amount of humor that she included in it. I’m also a person who deals with stressful situations by laughing at them or trying to play a joke. Although it’s not always the most appropriate response, it’s interesting how people use humor to cope with unknown or intense situations.

I associated the use of this device with standup comedians. Usually, people who joke about their marginalization, racism, and stereotypes, are the biggest example of how humor can loosen tension about these subjects and help start a conversation about the difficulties of navigating their lives as minority groups.

I found that Luiselli was able to not only bring humor into the narration but use it in such a way that it highlighted just how extreme and unfair the system is. By critiquing the people, institutions, and ideologies involved in the immigration crisis, she allows us readers to become a part of the conversation.

11/26/21

Power and its Victims

I found that Tell Me How It Ends is a text that makes parallels with another literary piece that we visited earlier in the term, And We Sold the Rain by Naranjo Carmen. For instance, both introduce a government that has failed to deliver sufficient provision to its residents, causing many to flee. I believe that both pieces call attention to the matter that a power will always step up when there is an opportunity to in their government. In Tell Me How it Ends, that power was gangs. While in And We Sold the Rain, a foreign government chooses to establish economic and financial power over Guatemala. Thus, we can compare the two literary pieces to establish a resemblance that appears in both parties. For example, when there is a vulnerability present with a country, both choose to enact and exploit these vulnerabilities for their own benefit. Regardless of the means through which they choose to enact their power, both, in the end, threaten the well being of the individuals in which they reign over. Hence, this reveals a commonality present in the structure and principles of both groups. Although the two parties (gangs and governments) are separated due to social status and practical procedure, it is possible that their essence is united in harmony. Could this be bought out in anyone when they are given a position of power? This is only limited to certain personalities or is it possible in anybody due to a weakness in human nature?

11/26/21

A Story With No End

The title of Valeria Luiselli’s book, “Tell Me How It Ends,” highlights the human tendency to yearn for cohesion and logical conclusions. Luiselli revealed that it was in fact her daughter that took an interest to the story of two girls travelling together to seek asylum in the US, where she asks “how does it end?” Luiselli herself wants to find out how the story of migrant children ends, thus the title was born through her daughter’s question and her own. However, many Americans don’t have the same sympathy for migrant children, where even publications such as the New York Times describes these children as poor and violent. Little do they know that these causes are deeply rooted in a shared hemispheric history. The irony is that the US government doesn’t attribute the trafficking of arms as a reason for why people flee, or that the US are mass consumers of trafficked drugs which proliferate gang violence, hence if there wouldn’t be demand then there wouldn’t be supply.

Luiselli notes that while Trump has exacerbated the issue, it was poor policies from the past that brought us to where we are today. For instance, under Obama, children who were seeking asylum has under a month to secure legal assistance, in addition to the violence that people seemed to ignore. Additionally, the Clinton administration had already began building the wall between Mexico and the US. The precursors to Trump had normalized the violence and scrutiny of migrant children. It’s incredibly difficult to unpack everything that lead to the situation of illegal immigrants in the states, so that’s why the story is ongoing because we all have much to learn.

11/25/21

the “right” answers

On page 61, Luiselli mentions that for refugee kids to gain recognition of U.S. immigration structures, they need to provide the “right” answers. But what are the “right” answers? Working within an immigration system preying on your trauma and waiting for you to fail cannot bring about the “right” answers. By the time refugee children arrive at the U.S. border, the weight of the journey, leaving what they have always known, their language and the warmth of a culture that they might not even return to, can be a lot to process. In contrast with the literal coldness of ICE, which puts kids in cages of never-ending violence. The paradox of claiming asylum in the U.S. is that the process often brings about more violence. What is supposed to be the place that will provide freedom from the danger you supposedly left behind will make you relive the trauma. Asylum should be a means of escape. Yet, the way U.S. immigration is structured forces kids to re-immerse themselves in what they are trying to forget. The immediately and forcefully demanded “right” answers dehumanize children. Early on, U.S. officials teach them that suffering is the only way to earn a place in U.S. society.

Ultimately, what is most cruel about demanding “right” answers, other than the traumatic responses being weaponized against as the value assigned upon children, is that U.S. officials are complicit in creating the situation which leads to the “right” answers. They know what the kids are fleeing from, they have encouraged the violence and have profited from it too. Yet, U.S. officials still make the kids narrate their trauma as an ultimate assertion of power relations they cannot escape.

11/25/21

A Reflection on Guilt

One aspect I did not expect to be so intriguing while reading Tell Me How it Ends was the idea of guilt of privilege. As we discussed in class, there is a sense of guilt as Luiselli compares her journey to the US with the journeys of the children she interviews. One quote that really struck me was as she described her frustration with explaining her trip to a border patrol agent. She explains, ” we find a country that is as beautiful as it is broken, and we are somehow now part of it, so we are also broken with it, and feel ashamed, confused, and sometimes hopeless, and are trying to figure out how to do something about all that” (24). Her journey to the states has been far less, or if at all, as traumatic compared to the children’s. As she compared the journeys, it becomes clear the questions in which US government asks immigrants; are you smart enough, or traumatized enough for a visa? She recognizes her privilege of having the resources to get her visa, and feels guilty for having an easier journey. On a different note, I think this quote also goes well with our discussion in class of what we, as university students, can do about the problems we discuss in class. While we gain knowledge, we become better equipped to tackle these issues; yet, a feeling of helplessness grows as we learn just how deep rooted these problems are. The conflict between gaining power through knowledge, confusion of how to use the knowledge, and frustration of not knowing where to start weighs heavy on our minds and Luisellis. In conclusion, Tell Me How it Ends evoked an interesting reflection on the guilt we can carry for learning about these topics and what we are to do about it.