Blog 1: Chicana Feminism

I decided to do my project on Chicana feminism because it is a rich subject that has had a lot of light shed on it throughout this course. A lot of the characters we have met in readings have been Chicana women who face hardship in regards to social oppression, challenges to gain identity/gender identity, racism, sexism, and more. In fact, Chicana literature is a vital aspect of the Chicana femenism, also known as “Xicanisma”, movement as it allows women to share their experiences and projects their voices in an intellectual, creative, and expressive way.

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A Chicana is a Mexican-American woman who faces the threat of being treated as a minority in her own homeland while struggling to establish her own identity and voice within her most intimate community. The status of an outcast also applies to the gothic aspect of this course as well. She embodies the clash of her Mexican roots and her parallel American culture as she identifies her inequalities, most commonly related to gender inequalities, within both of these societies. Nicole Thompson of Xicanisma: The Chicana Feminist & Her Movement from the Latin Post states, “ Chicana feminists made it known that they did not want to be pigeonholed into stereotypical roles such as child-bearers, homemakers and caregivers. Nor, did they want to continue to suffer mistreatment at the hands of domineering fathers, brothers or husbands.” A lot of the hardships that Chicana women face lies in gender inequality and the affects of stereotyping the female gender. Much of the movements of Chicana feminism works to create a role for women that empowers and celebrates them.

Sources:

“Xicanisma: The Chicana Feminist & Her Movement.” Latin Post RSS. N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Apr. 2014.

Impact of the draft on Turtle and Luiz Lil Lizard within Their Dogs Came With Them

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Within Their Dogs Came With Them there is a constant recurring motif of isolation throughout the novel amongst all characters and situations. Segregation of communities created by the freeways and helicopters, the loss of parents, siblings, and friends is consistent with this theme of isolation. For this searcher post, I am examining the parallels and ramifications the lottery had on Turtle with the departure of her brother, Luis Lil Lizard, and how the draft may be the reason for Turtle’s homelessness and defiance.

First, it is important to cite the draft was discriminately aimed at lower class citizens, usually minorities, and more so specifically in impoverished areas that had less political representation. This was one of the main reasons why the draft was rescinded.

As Ku Bia writes in an analysis of the lottery,

“A lot of draft-age men received deferments were from wealthy and educated families. Highly prominent political figures who were accused of improperly avoiding the draft includes Bill Clinton and Dick Cheney.”

We may see Luiz Lil Lizard as fitting the bill for a draftee because of his ethnicity, his location in East Los Angeles, and his living situation, being that he was not in college or married. We see other examples of this inequality such as within Gods Go Begging, as Jesse describes his fellow soldiers as Mexicans, Blacks, coming from low income families, with little to no education whatsoever (one reason Jesse sticks out is because of his education).

“American forces in Vietnam included twenty-five percent poor, fifty-five percent working-class, twenty percent middle-class men, but very few came from upper-classes families. Many soldiers came from rural towns and farming communities”

There are many parallels between Turtle and her brother during the time of the draft. Lizard was taken away, into a foreign, unknown land. Being in Vietnam, as we saw in Gods Go Beginning, one must persistently pursue survival lest be killed during treacherous firefights and guerilla warfare. Whereas Lizard’s life changed substantially — leaving his home, his family, his friends, his protection, Turtle acts in a similar manner. Turtle voluntarily leaves the McBride gang, takes it upon herself to live without a home, without familiar faces, and without protection. Turtle finds herself in an increasingly dark, hostile community with rival gangs always on the lookout. Like her brother, Turtle fights to survive, albeit not in a foreign country, Turtle still finds herself in an entirely new situation — finding food, shelter, water, and a place to sleep at night are all obstacles Turtle must overcome daily. Likewise, Lizard, being away in Vietnam, must have been enduring similar situations of survival.

Having grown up together, Turtle, in a symbolic way, follows her brother’s steps — both characters abandoning their known life into a new, uncertain, dangerous living situation. This may be accredited to a sense of solidarity Turtle feels, being that since she may be enduring similar events as her brother, may bring them closer in some way.

Cited:

Bia, Ku. “Vietnam War Draft – The Vietnam War.” The Vietnam War. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Apr. 2014.

The Forgotten Buried in East L.A.

 

 

This Los Angeles Times article follows the search for the final resting place of a Jewish Yiddish author named Lamed Shapiro.  He is buried at Mount Zion Jewish cemetery in East Los Angeles.  This cemetery was a place for poor Jews to be buried and is mostly cement and tombstones.  The cemetery is described as being abandoned and vandalized.  No one knows who even owns it anymore and it hasn’t had a funeral in over six years. The writings of Shapiro are described as being graphically violent but beautiful.  It is interesting that this author whose writings are describe d as being gothic lays to rest in a cemetery of forgotten.

This article is interesting because it shows how important the cemeteries are to the cultural history of East L.A. The article describes East Los Angeles as a type of Ellis Island where many cultural groups have passed and the cemeteries serve as markers of this diverse history.  The presence of this cemetery in East L.A. is very abject because it has essentially been cast off by the Jewish community.  No one is claiming it and while there is minimal maintenance done to the area it is ultimately destined to become ruins.  This article ties back to Their Dogs Came with Them because Turtle sleeps in a cemetery.  Turtle, like Mount Zion is a somewhat unclaimed and abandoned character.  She has no clear definition of her sexuality or place in the world, just as Mount Zion has no clear owner.  While Turtle can claim her affiliation with the McBride boys and Mount Zion can find affiliation with the Jewish community both are still outcasts in those groups as well.

http://www.latimes.com/news/columnone/la-me-jewish-cemetery-html-20130328-dto,0,4355412.htmlstory#axzz2ztwFurGO

Bonded Labor: The Past of Tranquilina’s Parents Still Afflicts Over 21 Million Workers

05-Bonded-LabourTheir Dogs came with Them is an emotive story that  describes the maladies assaulting the lives of the inhabitants of a forgotten, yet resiliently vibrant, East LA neighborhood.  Amid the racism, poverty and violence of a “world that had nothing … to award”, Viramontes’ characters must also struggle with real and metaphorical conditions of bondage                     (Viramontes, 41).  Turtle is consumed by her desire to become the companion her brother always hoped for and thus she is imprisoned in a double identity without knowing which gender truly suits her.  Ermilina is seen by her family as being tainted by her mother’s mistakes and bounded to follow her fate. Ana sacrifices her life for troubled brother Ben. Although she is not forced to do this, her sisterly love and charitable spirit confine her in a prison of her own kindness.  Yet, the most obvious and horrifying example of bondage can be found in Tranquilina’s first POV chapter, where her mother tells her about their time as indentured servants.

This form of slavery is preserved for generations through overwhelmingly growing loans that are passed from parents to children.  As Tranquilina’s mother reflects, “one always had to be accountable to history” despite how unjust that system might seem ( Viramontes, 41). The victims are told they are free to go as soon as they are able to pay back the money they owe. The workers become initially dependent on their patrons for shelter, food, working tools and they must compensate for these expenses through their labor. In other cases people get loans for personal reasons, thinking that they could easily pay them. But they soon realize that this decision to borrow money has costed them their entire lives. Sometimes migrant workers must pay for the cost of transportation after  relocating to a new country with the promise of  a better future. “The value of their work becomes invariably greater than the original sum of money borrowed” the Anti-Slavery organization explains, and yet their masters never seem to be satisfied with their efforts. This industry owners are willing to exploit their workers until they have nothing left to give. This debt system traps entire families into a lifetime of slavery. Although we often associate this evil practices with the past, this form of bondage is a current social illness.  In this small passage, Viramontes sheds light on a rarely discussed issue that affects over 21 million people around the world.

Viramontes talks very briefly about Rancho Paradiso. However, the small passage dedicated to the suffering of Tranquilina’s parents touched me very deeply because it vividly illustrated the utter disregard for human dignity felt by the perpetrators of this system and the humiliation experienced by the victims of their avarice. The author creates a perfect picture of submission in the seemingly ordinary scene where Horseback is getting his feet measured for a new pair of shoes. Papa works with great skill to please his master who sits lazily while eating mangos from Mother’s heavy basket. Mama is forced to unnecessarily hold the basket despite its weight and the long time Tomas will be working with their patron. This task causes her great pain, “ [the] basket cut against the flesh of her open aching palms”, but she endures this symbolic suffering without complain (Viramontes,41). She knows to stay silent and in her designated place of subjugation.  For Horseback, having a fragile young woman hold such a burden when she could have easily placed it on the ground seems normal because he has no consideration for her. He sees her simply as subdued emblem of his wealth and influence. Although he regards Tomas with greater affection for he admires his talent for shoemaking, he still ignores the cruel irony of having a discalced man make his comfortable shoes.  The scenes takes a more sinister character if we speculate that this kind of humiliation was a daily aspect of life as a slave in the Rancho Paradiso.

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 Despite its illicit status, government officials do very little to end this immoral form of labor ; unfortunately, this profitable industry easily buys the silence of the authorities.  Bounded labor forces adults to work alongside children and seniors. This practice has been condemned as slavery by the United Nation and is therefore considered illegal under the UN’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Yet legislative restrictions seem incapable of liberating the millions of people who work everyday to pay off their insatiable masters.

Pakistan perfectly illustrates the massive influence and spread of bonded labor. The Pakistani constitution prohibits any form of enslave work or indentured servitude and protects children under the age of fourteen from working. Yet, over one million workers are victims of this system. These enslaved laborers constitute 90 % of the brick industry (“Bonded Slaves: A 21st Century Evil”). In this labor camps the workers are constantly monitored with gunned men to prevent escapes and guarantee maximum production. These people are not allowed to leave the company’s premises. Women are forced to work during their entire pregnancies. Employers physically and sexually abuse of their workers. Not even illness can save these victims of bondage from a day of exhausting work. Desperate, many workers make dangerous decisions to pay off their debts, giving up kidneys and other organs as forms of payment.

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Ashraf, a Pakistani bonded laborer, says that they are only given two hours of rest and explains that if their work declines, their employers “swears at us and beats us”. This man shares the labor with his two young sons and his father to pay off a debt of 1600 dollars (Bonded Slaves a 21st Century Evil).  He tragically summarizes the crushing experience of being a bonded worker in his statement:

“ I’m neither living or dying. I have no way out of this … we are slaves, we are not free”. 

Here’s a link to a short documentary addressing this issue:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8tmpgMykcs

And an article explaining how slaved labor is a hidden part of our life:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/globe-debate/they-walk-among-us-slavery-in-the-21st-century-takes-many-forms/article14924976/

 

Works Cited:

Viramontes, Helena María. Their Dogs Came with Them: A Novel. New York: Atria, 2007.Print.

 

Omaar, Rageh. “Bonded Slaves: A 21st Century Evil.” YouTube. Al Jazeera, 27 Oct. 2011. Web. 24 Apr. 2014.

“Bonded Labour.” Anti-Slavery. N.p., n.d. Web. 24 Apr. 2014.

“Slavery: A 21st Century Evil.” Slavery: A 21st Century Evil. AlJazeera, n.d. Web.

Their Dogs Came With Them-Searcher

http://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/la-me-ln-sheriff-no-big-brother-compton-air-surveillance-20140423,0,5648220.story#axzz2zl3KTZQ1

During one of my frequent daily check-ups of the Times, I came across this particular article that caught my interest. The title read: “Sheriff’s official: No ‘Big Brother’ with Compton air surveillance”. As I read further into the article, I began to relate it to Their Dogs Came With Them, specifically the Quarantine Authority. The unfathomable part of this story is that the citizens of Compton were not notified that they were being watched by what many view as “Big Brother”. Department officials stated “Compton was chosen, in part, because it features 10 square miles of flat topography.” To be frank, I don’t believe this at all. They said that it was a “part” of the reason, if anything it was a very small part. In my eyes, the larger reason was similar to that of the city in the novel placing the QA in East Los Angeles. Compton and much of South LA have similar societal and economic difficulties to that of the Eastside, both representing racial minorities. I feel that the QA and this air surveillance were conducted for the same reason, however both having very political answers given by the city as to the reason for their existence: one saying for rabies control and the latter saying because Compton had the ideal topography. I find this article uneasy, especially being an Angeleno, that the city thinks it has the right to essentially spy on its citizens. Lets hope city officials didn’t read this novel in a literal sense and actually enjoy the thought and possibility of the QA.

 

 

Their Dogs Came with Them- Searcher

The life of the author of the novel Their Dogs Came with Them is equally as Fascinating as the book. Her life in academia, motherhood and an artist have garnered much respect and admiration. Begging her academic life in Immaculate Heart College with a B.A. in English she worked her was up to become a professor at Cornell University. Here is the link to an article I found that lauds the writer and her works.

http://www.library.ucsb.edu/special-collections/cema/viramontes_helena

Its Not Just a Leave

As an active member of the first generation college student (hereby referred to as “first-gen”) community, I have come to see a lot of my expereinces through this lens. Before it used to be an unconscious observation, merely me living my life not really thinking or analyzing the course of events or the decisions I have made based off of this one area of identity. That is not to say that every decision I make now is because I am first-gen. On the contrary, I still rarely consciously look at the world through these particular glasses. But now I do take the time to analyze these decisions and experiences.

The Chicana aspect is a given for I am Chicana. My own culture and the way I embrace it finds its way into my work and shows my view as a Chicana student. What I really tried to focus in this project was the gothic perspective of being a first generation college student as seen through these expereinces that I have had within the last two years. Told in the form of diary entries, it is split into three parts (no particular order) and shall be posted in such way so as to mimic the old Victorian serialization publication method.

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April 4, 2014

 A few days ago, I spoke on a panel for incoming Latino students. Not my first panel, and as a sophomore, I know it will not be my last. In the back part of my mind, I expected certain questions to be asked of me: what life would like on campus, how easy it would be to make friends, how long does it take to get over homesickness? (Surprisingly, since I was speaking in front of parents only, I still suspected these questions to be at the top of the list.) Of course, I cannot forget the one question that haunted even my mind as I was off trying to make friends at this potential school during my Latino Overnight: finances. As I sat down the table from my dad, I could feel his empathetic sigh when a parent asked him about how we pay for college. Memories of my freshman year—countless tears, staring at a screen displaying the 20k I had no way of paying off, and the constant praying that the number would just go away by some miracle of God—instantly replayed in my mind, not a fresh wound but more like an ever present fog in my life. I can always see the light and its end but it never fails to hover and remind me that I’m here but only through struggle.

It’s not a topic I’m uncomfortable with. I’ve constantly written about it—a small collection of my poems are dedicated to being forced to leave LMU, dollar billed shackles pulling down on my wrists as I walked off campus, guilt and shame bleeding into my eyes. But there is something about feeling the words come out of my mouth that leaves a foul taste. Like a coffee after taste; or how when you’re sick with enflamed tonsils, this post-hangover dry taste lingers in the back of your throat that you just can’t wash out no matter how many times you brush your teeth or gargle mouth wash. It’s a taste that I can never get used to and just want out. Even if I want to stay quiet about it, however, I know I can’t be. There are too many asking me to tell it. Too many people asking me how I did it.

I don’t know.

How do you explain the truth? That you have no idea as to how you managed to make everything happen. That it was by some miracle of God that I managed to find the money. That it was luck that an old settlement finally came in and that helped pay a good majority of my debt.

Yet, when those parents came up to me after the panel, asking me the age old question, How did you do it? I had to be honest.

It was a combination of luck and faith. Constant contact with financial aid. Here’s the number of my counselor. But don’t be disappointed if it’s not meant to be. It almost wasn’t for me.

 Money.

Money has always been the problem. I thought my financial aid package from LMU was one of the biggest. It covered three-fourths of my tuition; if I would’ve looked closer at my other packages, I would’ve chosen either Cal State Long Beach or UC Irvine. The numbers were smaller, but then again so was the tuition.

The concept of a private university won me over, though. Being able to say of how I went to this small, private university right after high school—it was a luxury, a privilege that I felt I deserved having pulled all the all-nighters in high school. Especially after Overnight. How could I say no to a community that made me feel like I was at home? To friends that were already imagining our first year together?

You can’t register for classes until you have paid off the semester.

I first asked my dad about payments in August. His response was simple: I am not paying for your school. I can’t afford it.

When I was younger I used to think that the ocean rumbled because it was screaming out of heartache. The ocean’s cry could not have overshadowed the way my heart started crying. The literal breaking I felt as I sat in the back of the car as I was getting dropped off at my dorm. I didn’t say anything else; stayed quiet as I took down my weekend bag filled with freshly done laundry.

It wasn’t until my parents left and my newest closest friend came in that I let the waves rumble on.

It’s not uncommon for first-gen students to face financial issues.

 It was with two checkboxes that I started realizing that maybe things were going to be different for me in college. I remember in high school already starting to use the term “first-gen” as a part of my identity. It was going to be my gateway to scholarships and college in general. I embraced this. I embraced the “benefits” that I thought would come with accepting this identity.

I never thought of what it truly meant to be first-gen. I never thought of how other students might have knowledge that I didn’t. I never thought that maybe I was missing pieces to the puzzle. In my mind, I had figured it all out. All on my own. My own well-earned bragging right.

It’s why I held my head in shame. Why I hated that I let the situation get the way it was. Why it was hard for me to go to bed at night because of this constant migraine that I couldn’t shake off no matter what I tried. Why I ended up hospitalized for a few hours. Stress-related heart condition, the doctor had said.

I know, you really didn’t need to tell me twice.

No te preocupes, papi. Me salgo por el semestre. Regreso cuando la hora llegue.

It was right before my debt went to collections. I finished the online application. The words “Leave of Absence” blaring brighter than the lights of New York City. I could see the sympathy in my parents’ eyes. Later, I would learn how my dad felt like he had failed me because he couldn’t afford the school of my dreams.

Hi Genesis, my name is Linda Rojas*. My parents met you at Latino Overnight and said that you can help me. I love LMU and I want to go there with all my heart, but it’s the issue of financial aid. How did you do it?

Everyone assured me that I was making the right decision. That I wasn’t failing because I decided to take the leave. But that didn’t mean I felt content with my decision. I felt the detachment from my friends. I still kept in contact with them but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel left out on some level.

By the end of winter break, I could feel myself questioning my identity. I couldn’t help but think “if I wasn’t first-gen then this wouldn’t have happened.” How can I say that for sure? I have met students that are not first-gen yet they have also been faced with the same issue as me. It wasn’t just a “me” or “first-gen” issue; I just didn’t see it that way. The world was a vortex of me and my issues. The only ones that rang through to me were the ones tied to people from the same background or similar issues to mine.

It was my honest belief at the time.

Hi Linda. I’m going to be honest: luck was my captain, faith was my anchor. I’m going to tell you how to do this, at least how it worked for me. But please, if at the end of the day, you realize you can’t despite all the resources you have used, don’t feel like a failure. You’ll find yourself at the school you are meant to be at. 

Legends in Murals and their Origins (Part 2 of 3)

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Driving along Vermont Street in Los Angeles, an amazing wall mural peaks out of a bakeries wall. It’s vibrant, deep colors and content make us feel as if we were in another world. The roots of the Aztecs in this mural are in deep connection to the Mexican-American Angelino standing for the folklore history that has been present in the Mexican community. It’s the past present and future; a million words told in an image.

Here we see an Aztec god called Popocatepetl and an Aztec princess known as Ixtaccihuatl. The respect for these gods today and back then is the within the hope for prosperity. In Aztec times, the fates of the people lay within Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl since they are symbolic of volcanoes whose poisonous gases and explosions have killed many ancestors and caused much destruction, especially to crops. “They saw the God’s and goddesses everywhere. Partly because the world could turn on them suddenly and destructively, they became convinced of the need to honor the gods…Aztecs and Maya feared the anger of the region’s many volcanoes”(Phillips,23). Due to these reasons the Aztecs saw these volcanoes as gods with a tragic love story and placed upon them great significance. “Mesoamericans must have felt deep respect for the untamable power of nature. They lived in one of the most dynamic areas of the Earth for volcanic activity and were familiar with the shudderings of the earth monster and the periodic explosions of the volcanoes that spotted the landscape”(Phillips,25). For this reason a linkable personage became symbolic of the mountain reducing fear and making destruction a sign from the warrior prince and princess fighting. The tallest volcano in Mesoamerica, whose cap remains permanently frozen because of it’s high altitude, “Popocatepetl, whose name means ‘Smoking Mountain’ in the Aztecs’ Nahuatl language, lies 72km (45 miles) to the south-east of the centre of Mexico City, in full view of the spot where the people of Tenochtitlan once raised their great temple pyramid to the glory of Tlaloc and their patron deity Huitzilopochtli”(Philips,26). Throughout their reverence for Popocateptl many gifts as religious devotion have been done to show sacrifice and respect. “Offerings were made to Popocatepetl in Aztec times and shrines to Tlaloc were built on it’s slopes. Popocateptl remains active”(Phillips,26). This mural of Popocateptl and Ixtaccihuatl shows the still present deep reverence for Mexico’s history in today’s Chicano communities.

The legend of Popocateptl’s neighboring volcano is the legend of the Aztec princess called Ixtaccihuatl. “The great mountain’s twin, Ixtaccihuatl, has three snow capped peaks that are said to resemble the head, feet and chest of a reclining woman. An Aztec folktales cast Ixtaccihuatl as a princess mourning the loss of her lover, who had been dispatched by her jealous father to a war in Oaxaca. The volcano is dormant”(Philips,26). These volcanoes where constantly changing and posed a fear to the environment, and any change from them meant either life or death.”The lakes of the Valley of Mexico were formed in prehistoric times when the sacred heights of Popocateptl, Ixtaccihuatl, and other peaks of the transverse volcanic axis rose, damming the south-easterly drainage of the region’s water”(Philips,28). Through changes in landscape the Aztecs believed in signs from their surroundings and had a great respect for nature. This wall mural of Popocateptl and Ixtaccihuatl present to the community a deep sense of understanding and education. “Through the project and the process with the community and, in particular, inner city youth, artists became involved in urban renewal, community organizing, and education”(Kim,15). Murals for Angelino’s have become a great way to experience a communities culture dynamics through images that don’t need a lot of deciphering. One look at Popocateptl and Ixtaccihuatl and one can see the royal headdresses, elaborate clothings made for nobles and their romance story.

This image is ever present in the Chicano’s cultural reservoir by the social conscious artists especially those working in the 1960’s and 1970’s “Among these staple figures…[are] Mexican revolutionary figures; Aztec imagery (Indian princesses, warriors, pyramids); Catholic imagery and figures (crosses, La Virgen de la Guadalupe, Jesus Christ); and the pachuco”(Kim,37). These staple images, which is perhaps most relevant to the Virgin of Guadalupe, have become very common today throughout wall murals.

Wall murals and their origins can be actually traced back to ancient Aztec and Mayan cultures were many frescos and images were done on walls and structures. “Finds of superb murals in the sacred city of Teotihuacan, in Maya cities such as Bonampak and in highland Mexican settlements such as Cacaxtla provide evidence of a highly developed Mesoamerican wall-painting art”(Philips,242). These highly developed murals evolved overtime to fit the changing situations politically, economically, socially and culturally creating what we have come to know as Mexican/Chicano muralism, as we will further see in blog post three.

The processes to make muralism also changed. Today all that is needed is a wall that is unclaimed, or a business that has commissioned you to work, paint brushes, paint cans or spray paints from Sherwin-Williams (or other paint brands) and a protective coat called graffiti-guard, if you want your work to last in an ever changing environment. Compared to the Aztecs wall murals today seem more accessible with only initiative and vision needed. In contrast, for the Aztecs to do this there was much preparation and time involved. First the wall had to be prepped and then painted conscious of prime and composite colors. “The artists first prepared the walls by applying a layer of clay, later adding a coat of lime mixed with sand and quartz. Once the surface was ready, the painters set to work, first applying a red background color then drawing designs in black and a darker red. They filled in additional colors of blue, green and yellow as the last stage in the process”(Philips,243). Through this wall murals were made and evolved into the wall murals we have come to know and love. Wall murals have and will remain central to the arts in Los Angeles proving itself to be artistic achievements, especially for the Chicano community.

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Paintings

Popocateptl and Ixtaccihuatl. Vermont Avenue, Ceylon bakery.

An unfinished mural of Popocateptl catching an avalanche.

 

Works Cited

Philips, Charles. The Aztecs and Maya World: Everyday Life, Society and Culture in Ancient Central America and Mexico. Anness Publishing Ltd, 2005. Print.

We’re not dogs

Tranquilina shouts “We’re not dogs” as her life is in danger. Her cries aren’t heard, or perhaps they are being ignored. This last scene in the book is very thrilling. I feel what Tranquilina is feeling as she runs for her life and tries to save others as well. What interests me a lot about this whole scene is how she shouts “we’re not dogs” hoping that this will save her life. The very end where Tranquilina faces death is a very powerful scene. While running she is terrified and crying and finally when she has no where left to go, she accepts her fate.What I really like about the ending of the book is that it stays true to the character. In her final moments, (although we aren’t 100% sure she is going to die, but we are lead to believe that) Tranquilina still maintains her faith. Her parents advice runs through her mind and she stops crying. In the scene it describes how she looks up at the sky and lets the rain wash away her “grievous exhaustion” (I assume her tears, sweat, and blood) and this can possibly represent the rain washing away any sins she has committed. The rain can mean Tranquilina is being baptized, which means that she is being given another chance at living a new life, having a Christian rite of adoption and admission-Tranquilina’s admission to heaven? Her fighting for her life and being chased like a dog in the cold rain, has a sort of gothic element, mainly on how the events are playing out, but her faith showing in the end of the book can tie in with the strong religious roots that is sometimes portrayed in the Chicano community.