A poem, a song, and a painting…
An essay…
Sometimes I avoid talking about my work. It means too much. Explaining it out loud chokes my voice. However, it is often unavoidable. No matter how much I practice going over the slides or coming up with a light explanation, in the most unsuspected moments, I can feel my voice crack. My mind prays that no one notices.
This last week, I gave a presentation of my student work and my professional work. I curated the images and designed the presentation to show aspects of both areas that were significant to me both personally and professionally. Among the student work, I selected a video of my student Ashlyn (I know you are reading this!), rolling on the floor with her pants soaked in ink which brought joyful memories to me and the audience laughed. Among the professional work I selected the artwork shown above because it was published in a watercolor magazine titled The Best of Watercolor: Splash 22 Art Competition in 2020, I think. See below.
Speaking in public is sometimes unpredictable. A script might have been learned and memorized but in the moment, the vibe, the energy, and the group reaction to you can take you in one or another direction. When the slide of this work came up and it was time to talk about this work, there was a pause. I paused. Something about seeing it on the screen reminded me why I painted it.
In 2019 the news were flooded with incidents of migrant children being detained in cages. Among the incidents, there was one news post that caught my attention and left me thinking. It was about the little girl, Angie Valeria, who died in her father’s arms crossing the river. The two stories reminded me of the poem La Muralla, written by Nicolás Guillén made into a song that I liked very much growing up.
Guillén was a Cuban poet leading the Afro-Cuban movement in Cuba and a member of the communist party. He and other poets wrote to bring attention to racial, social, and economic inequalities in the country. Exiled by Batista due to their differences of ideologies, he returned later when Castro was in power to continue to advocate for the causes he believed in.
The link to the poem provided above will show you the poem in Spanish, I am posting below my poor translation in English.
The Wall or The Gate by Nicolás Guillén
To build this wall
Bring me all the hands
The black, their black hands
The whites, their white hands
A wall that goes from the beach to the hill
From the hill to the beach
Over there by the horizon
Knock knock
Who is it?
A rose and a carnation
Open the gate
Knock knock
Who is it?
The colonel’s sword
Shut the gate
Knock knock
Who is it?
The dove and the laurel
Open the gate
Knock knock
Who is it
The scorpion and the centipede
Shut the gate
To the friend’s heart
Open the gate
To the poison and the knife
Shut the gate
To the mirth and the spearmint
Open the gate
To the snake’s tooth
Shut the gate
To the nightingale on the flower
Open the gate
Let us raise the wall
Gathering all hands
The blacks, their black hands
The whites their white hands
A wall that goes from the beach to the hill
From the hill to the beach
Over there by the horizon
For you, my friend, to understand, why I choked up a little, I need to explain the poem, the song, and the artwork.
In the mid 1970s and well into the 1980s, nova trova took over the music in Puerto Rico. One famous group called Haciendo Punto en Otro Son (Making a Point in Another Rythm) performed a wide range of songs that made them very famous. Some of the songs were romantic, satirical, joyful, silly, and poetry. One of the songs was, you guessed it, La Muralla. You can see the video on the link. I can’t embed it here. The music is contagious, easy to sing along, and its message is of course meaningful. If you do decide to listen to it, use the translation I provided you above.
In light of recent events and news reports regarding deportation methods and choices, I have been concerned. I do understand that my concern or shall we call it trepidation, is not shared by everyone or is even experienced by everyone. It is not my intention to convince you of one position over another. That is your choice. I however, do not seem to have a choice. My looks and my accent do mark me as a Latina or Hispanic. And though I was born a US citizen, that does not seem as powerful to everyone in the same measure.
The recent rhetoric around immigration—regardless of political positions— is dehumanizing and degrading. The jokes, the comments, the conversations, the attitudes, the form in which certain process are conducted, and the climate seem to indicate a particular sense of disdain. We might justify a certain sense of superiority in light of others’ status but we are only fooling ourselves if we think that is enough. And quite frankly for those of us who look a certain way, well, it is concerning.
So, yes, I choke up a little but recovered quickly. I do not think anyone caught it. The poem and the song captured in the artwork reminded me of the many layers in it and what it represented and still represents to me.
Love,
Alma