A Never Ending Cycle

Lopez is tired of living in the shackles that the rich people put on him. He writes, “My fingers are desperate to unearth the ruins of my countrymen”. Lopez is saying that he wants to see the original buildings that were here before the rich people built on top of them. Small businesses owned by people who actually live in that city are always affected by gentrification. For them that is their way to provide for their families, but they sadly get that stripped away from them. The rich people feel entitled and put themselves in charge to “upgrade” cities. They try to make it seem like they’re doing a good thing for the community, but their really only doing it for money.

The white people just wave a magical wand and buildings fall. In this cycle the rich get rich, and the poor get poorer, with only some escaping the shackles of poverty. Instead of bringing destruction upon small communities, the rich can invest into the community that already exists. This poem resists gentrification because it shows the beauty in small communities and in areas of poverty. This poem also shows that not everything bright and shiny is good.

“More Gentefication, Less Gentrification..”

After rereading the prompt for today’s blog, it reminded me of my favorite Netflix show called, Gentefication. To make it short, Gentefication consists of Mexican-American cousins working together to help support and save their immigrant grandfather’s taqueria from the claws of gentrification.It is not only the taqueria that is in risk of shutting down, but also neighboring grocery stores, bars and corner markets.  This takes place in Boyle Heights, giving insight on how gentrification not only affects the community and its culture, but also the hardship that is yet to come. Gentefication is a play on word of gentrification. ‘Gente’ in Spanish translates to ‘people.’ This show is a replica to what is going now– in real life; in the present.

Antonio Lopez is a victim of gentrification, much like many other families. His craftmanship of poetry is an amazing representation of what it is really like. His poem, Triptych of the Adobe-Cotta Army, delivers and conveys the raw emotions Lopez felt during these tough times. Lopez uses diction that may be considered “foul language” or “inappropriate.” How can one really deem this as “inappropriate” after what has happened to him and his family? A person who has never experience, should not try to have a say in this whatsoever. Lopez begins the poem with strong imagery, “My fingers are desperate / to unearth the ruins / of my countrymen (Lines 1-3.)” The countrymen is a representation of the victims. The second tercet continues what he discovered, “Only to find a Tesla / on the second floor / of our apartments (Lines 4-6),” and line 7, “— now a parking garage.” What was once homes to many families, is now a contributing factor to what has ruined, damaged and perhaps killed the soul, the livelihood, of what made the community great.

Another part of the poem that stood out to me, “Consider the clotheslines as a bandolier (Line 51).” In the poem, line 51 is separated from the following tercet stanza, which builds suspense. The two following, tercets “slung over ruined soldiers, / who’s uniforms still cling /  onto apartment balconies / Quien cedieron sus tierras / to raise the wrinkled flags / of blusas and neon vests (lines 52-57).” A bandolier is a piece of fabric, latched across the chest and body of a solider that carries ammunition. This reminds me of the Mexican-American War that resulted in Mexico handing over the Mexican Cession, and the Treaty of Hidalgo as evidence. Lopez ties the connection between the war and the present, as many families like Lopez’ have to struggle abundantly in order to survive. Many taking most jobs as laborers. It is as if Lopez is comparing gentrification and the community of “Latinidad” to battle of his ancestors and the “white forces” that long fought on the same land– many, many years ago.

Lines 64-66 holds a big impact overall, in my opinion. It goes like this, “All to nurse the newborn / with this vision, / Una vida mejor (Lines 64-66).” Lopez hits the target; the reasoning as to why so many immigrants from Mexico come here to the United States. Children of immigrants parents, are taught at a young age, that living here in the United States is the key to a better life. How can this be a better life if people like Antonio Lopez, are forced to flee their homes because they cannot meet their (those wanting to ‘improve the community) definition of what makes them a responsible citizen? They work day and night, having little to no sleep, to make ends meet and simply that is not enough?

The article published by Los Angeles Times, highly discusses why second-generation or the generation with college education, must give back to the communities they came from. Why our gente should help the community and keep the soul alive, to prevent gentrification from clashing down on the them.

Evelyn Hernandez

Using Poetry to Grasp Your Body

The poet Natalie Diaz has described her struggles being in fully in her body. The idenitites, systematic oppresions, and harships of everyone can have effects on your connection with your body as Diaz shares. Diaz attempts to grasp and feel her body through poetry yes, but more specifically language. In the poem My Brother at 3 A.M, Diaz’s desperate attempt to stay concious is a prime example of how important feeling the body is for this poet.

One of the biggest things I noticed first was the repetition. The first, second, and third stanzas are painting the same picture of the mother opening the door, the father asleep (a quiet house), and the dark night at 3 A.M. Diaz also repeats “he looked over his shoulder” twice (lines 8 and 11) and “He wants to kills me” (lines 4 and 7). This repition goes on throughout the poem, with the scene being painted for us over and over again. The sensation of desperateness, a desperateness to stay aware, to capture every detail, is intensified by this repetiton and can be tied back to the need to feel ones body.

The desperate tone provided by the repeition is aided by the strong imagery in the poem. Line 14, “The sky wasn’t black or blue but the green of a dying night” or Line 20, “His lips flickered with sores”. This imagery does not call for a pretty scene. There is a man who is lost, his body worn out, and a night equally defeated all the while a mother is making sense of her sons ecounter with this devil. In an interview Diaz states “something that has a possibility to be extremely uncomfortable, but also has the possibility to end in joy in some way.” These aspects of the poem are surely uncomfortable, but what is the joy that one could gain?

Perhaps the joy felt as she sees her brother regain sanity, as the sores on his lips go away, as he sits down with them for dinner once again and they know he is safe. But Diaz embraces the importance of these uncomfortable and sad moments in her life, how they shape her identity, how she fought the stay concious through it all and finds painting this dark night as valuable as painting a a bright sky. While many marginalized communites often carry the shame and pain of addiction and poverty, Diaz uses language to take back the strength these moments may have taken from her. In this poem, Diaz lets go of pain and shame and exchanges it for remberance, acceptance, and moving forward.

Darah Carrillo Vargas