“imma take u grandpa style imma take your grandpa style”
idk maybe my grandpa donated his shit to a thrift shop with the hope that someone less fortunate than he could purchase those clothes and feel the comfort he felt not for some alt middle class white boy to take up and rap about
It’s one of my favorite things to do. Regardless of the colonial ties of our idioma, us Chican@s (and many other Latin@s) have still kept our indigenous roots with certain words, customs, foods, etc.
But that’s not what this post is about.
This post is about me and my particular history with speaking Spanish. It hasn’t really been until pretty recently that I was proud of speaking Spanish. I remember comin’ back from Ayutla, Jalisco (where all of my abuel@s and both of my padres are from) my junior year of high school and finally feeling proud of speaking Spanish. It was that look in my abuelas eyes as she saw me as a grown kid and almost a man. She saw my hair 14 inches long and just smiled and all she wanted to do was brush it. She knew I was finally starting to define myself and be me. Not givin’ any care to whatever anyone else was saying. I was much more conscious of myself and I had been really goin’ through depression hard for several years but when I was in México I felt free. I felt like I was where I wanted and needed to be. With my familia. But capítal y economicos has changed that shit for my family.
Take a step back and talk about growin’ up as a Chicano in a school predominantly with Black/Arab/White/Latin@ and a few Native students. Latin@s all stuck together really, I knew people from El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras, but mostly México. I was always sat next to the White kids and one of the biggest things I remember from everyone, teachers and students alike (unless they were Arab or Latin@) would never be able to pronunce my name. I had to shorten my name so they were able to pronounce it and so it wouldn’t bother me.Tenia orgullo en la pronunciación de mi nombre. But kids would make fun of me for it if they weren’t Latin@ and it was usually the White students. They would make fun of my nose and said that it was big because I picked it all the time. They made fun of my clothes being baggy and said I looked ghetto. Every time I would speak Spanish teachers or other students who didn’t have a second language in the home would discourage it. Especially in the classroom. People told me all kinds of things. But most of all, us Latin@s were picked on all the time for our use of language but never when we brought our food on the off chance that we were able to afford to bring it and weren’t using the free breakfast/lunch program.
In middle school I moved into a wealthier suburb and my family managed to get out of homelessness and I was transferred into a new school. Mostly White kids basically. I had no one to speak Spanish to other than my family and that shit was either fetishized hella hard or I was told to “speak English cuz this is America.” So I refused to speak it unless it was Spanish class which I took then in High School which was more diverse ethnically, but extremely segregated when it came to non-AP/Honors kids. My parents taught me how to speak Spanish, but nothing grammatically and no one ever corrected me really. Especially since my mom only had up to an Elementary School education in México and my pops did up to High School but in the south side of Chicago.
I hated it when teachers criticized my lack of understanding of basic grammatical concepts when it came to the written form but could do it in a snap in talking form. I still do. Shit bugs me all the time. It still bugs me that I go to a University where I can’t really talk to people in Spanish because they’re mostly White folks and unless I feel comfortable with someone, I don’t do it because I’ve had way too much of a history of White people condescending me for shit and acting like they “know Spanish more than I do.”
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any accent really (other than a strange Mexican/Argentinian mix) when I speak it. I’ve always kept that pride within my language within me though because of my familia.
Spanish to me is so much more than just some shit you use to make your resume look good or feel like it’s a necessity cuz “you might as well b/c I’m in Southern California.” It ain’t some shit to use to try and sound sexy. It’s a marker. A marker of the colonial impact on mi gente y la gente de America Latina. A means of resistance when I speak the language that has been denied so many Chican@s and Latin@s here because they felt or their parents felt like they needed to lose their culture to survive Amerikkka. It’s poetic, the emotions I express en español no puede comparar como yo lo digo en ingles. It’s the language of my abuel@s. My abuela who defended me from her own children when they called me a faggot in her own home and showed me that familia goes deeper than geographic location. My abuelo who showed me what it meant to work all your life and live a life of resistance through storytelling.
There’s a lot of shit Spanish is to me. But especially when it comes from Chican@s and other Latin@s it’s a lot more to me than just their fuckin’ grammar.
oh beyonce i think i love you more and more each day
why more people dont pick you as their feminist icon i’ll never know
It’s really going against everything we’re taught industry-wise - that there’s a certain type of black film that people want. They want comedies. They want historical dramas, but they don’t want contemporary representations - we know that’s not true. We’re told that independent film lovers like yourself, folks that are used to watching art house films, won’t come out and see a film with black people in it. I’ve been told that in rooms, big rooms, studio rooms, and I know that’s not true.
Do white queer men ever stop and think that maybe the reason they think there’s so much in a Black woman’s life for them to identify with is because so much of white queer culture is appropriated from Black existence?
It’s like pillaging someone’s wardrobe and then assuming you have a deep bond of mutual respect and affirmation because you obviously have the same taste in clothing.
My dad always tells me about his mother’s naani (my great great grandmother?) and how she used to have her piercings all around her ear. badass.
HELL FUCKING YEAH. THIS IS WHAT COLONIALISM AND “POSTCOLONIALISM” ARE DOING TO US. MAKING US FUCKING ASHAMED FOR ALL OF OUR SHIT.
MY GREAT-GRANDMA HAD THIS SHIT AND TATTOOS AND EVERYTHING. NOW “LOOKING LIKE A TRIBAL” IN MIDDLE CLASS INDIA IS SEEN LIKE A PROBLEM
I GOT LIKE 11 PIERCINGS AND A TATTOO
FUCK WITH ME
My grandmother has more tattoos than piercings, on her stomach, her right leg and up her arms.
Now every Nigerian parent wants to act like tattoos are evil and demonic, when in some cases their parents have tattoos.
that’s why i just hate it when people act as if body art is something so white or so “backwards”. your parents probably had some, their parents too.
when they act like our POC skin cant take it. and theyre the end all be all subjects for all bodymods. you just gotta laugh at the absurdity of whiteness.
always adorn yo culture on your skin.
fuck those fools who make you feel shameful
whoa i posted this photo haha glad people are discussing this. maybe i should show this to my mum and she’ll be ok with me getting more ear piercings. after all, most women in my family have up to 6 piercings on each ear.
HELL YEAH WOC BE DOING IT BEFORE ALL YALL WHITE HIPSTERS
Im gonna wait until I move out and pierce whatever the fuck I want to pierce as part of my ~decolonizashun process~ bc fuck you this is what generations of brown women before me looked like too before the white colonizer convinced them that it was an image of backwardness.
I don’t care if Judith Butler is your homegirl and Foucault gave you a rimjob in a past life. A brilliant message in humble form trumps grad school catchphrases any fucking day of the week.*
* Posted because it seems like academics been stunting on some fuckery on Tumblr this week, and in turn getting their behinds handed to them. Or maybe it’s just my dash?
reblogging bc i seriously need to remember this.