What does "my body, my choice" mean when I live in fear of my own body? When I am afraid of the stretch marks that decorate my belly; when I fear the mole adorned on my face; when the hairy back i inherited from my colonizing ancestors agitates me. What type of choices am I left, when I fear my own body. 2010 marks the beginning of a new chapter in my life, a phase in which I was able to emancipate myself from thoughts that bonded me for what I was beginning to believe would be forever.
Learning to appreciate MY voice has been one of the most difficult tasks I have embarked on. It is the same gay voice I was teased for when I was younger. The same gay voice that crumbled my mother when I told her I was a fucking fag. The same gay voice that screamed as loud as possible after being shoved across the hall in school. The same gay voice that demanded I be treated with dignity and respect. The same gay voice I am beginning to reclaim.
I have always been afraid of myself. Afraid of my full potential. Never knew what it mean to be me. I've been forced to live in a world that denies my existence as a joto, yet coheres my brown body to be the object of sexual desire to fulfill White men's colonial fantasies. I have always been afraid of my thoughts. Afraid because I had trouble annunciating my opinions in the English language. I've been forced to silence my queer thoughts for they said made no sense. I have always been afraid of my family. Afraid because "coming out," meant taking the risk of loosing the only people who have always genuinely cared for me. I have always been afraid of loving. Afraid of loving because I have been broken; broken by friends, family, institutions, broken by love itself. I have always been afraid of crying, because that's all I ever did. I cried because it was the easiest option. Taking my life would mean I had to inflict pain on myself. I have always been afraid of pain. I've been beaten up before, not by my parents, but beaten up before--I know of pain.
But this year, 2010, has shown me the most important thing--that my life, the life I live every day, is of importance, if not to many, to myself. Leaving the person I love[d], has taught me that my life has value on its own. Looking back at this year, I am grateful for everything, in particular for every tear I cried.
I remember the first day of 2010. My mother's 49th birthday. I left my mom to save what was then the most important relationship in my life. I spent the first day of the year crying, asking for forgiveness. I had once again hurt the person who I thought cared about me the most. I promised loyalty and honesty.
The year continued as I found myself a new academic/scholar/researcher identity. Brown, academic, queer, public intellectual, Chicano researcher, faggot, scholar, wetback, nerd. Identities I was forced to jerk around with. I found pleasure in being labeled something I never imagined. But took harsh criticism from many closed friends and loved ones. "Traitor." Fuck you! Stop demanding access to the institution and its resources, yet you refuse to let me take advantage of the them. I carry the traitor burden of jotos from the past. Cocksucker, white-lover, traitor, malinche, joto, chingado, mal cojido, del otro lado. Si, soy del otro lado, pero tambien del lado tuyo. Being called a traitor, a teacher's pet, a kiss-ass is nothing new. I've been forced to survive, by any means necessary. This is my life as a queer person of color. You wouldn't know, you benefit from your fucking straight-privilege. I was criticized because I apparently did not share the resources to those unable to gain access to this type of information. I offered my help, you ignored my call. "Elitist." If trying to make the world a better place for myself, my family, my community, for you, makes me an elitist, then what are you? Selfish? Brown on Brown violence. You are doing the colonizers job. Whose the fucking traitor now?
The academic year ended to what I realized I was surrounded by too much of campus politics hypocrisy. My potential was not deemed worth by a few. While they say I remain upset over the results, I am satisfied that life played with my cards the way it did. I learned from my mistakes, grew from that experience, and have found a better understanding and a more clear appreciation for what is organizing on campus. It is something I constantly wonder. Had things turned out the same had what we originally envisioned came true? I will never know. But I am relieved for what is now. I have found a purpose in my current position as a queer student of color, mentor, friend, supervisor, roommate, jerk-off buddy, brother, fuck buddy, and privileged Honors student. Don't take this the wrong way, but next year I promise to challenge you, make you feel more uncomfortable. I yearn to make YOU grow. I yield for YOUR best. But don't get this confused--this is not about me, nor should it be about YOU or YOUR future. This is about OUR communities, families, brothers/sisters/cousins/comrades, nuestro futuro. I want to use my body, my thoughts, my voice -- to make your body, your thoughts, your voice, wider, stronger, louder.
This year, I had the opportunity to travel across the country. I was in Washington D.C. followed by a few days in New York. I went with the person I thought I would be with forever. I held his hand across Manhattan, cuddled with during the cold nights in New York, and held tight in our small hotel room. I went to Oregon with the love that will never leave me--my passion for a libre joteria. And I went to Cabo San Lucas to find the love that I have been missing the most, the love of myself.
Tonantzin, Guadalupe, Virgencita, abuelito, guide my words carefully. Coyolxauhqui, I see your broken body and I feel you guiding me as I piece my own life together. Patriarchy shattered you into pieces. Pain, fueled by the same force, demolished me into fractions of a broken-hearted joto.
After what seemed to have the worst moment in my entire life--caught in the middle of lies, betrayal, hate, alcohol, cheating, love, broken promises, nervous breakdowns, I had to flee from the core of it. I left the United States and found myself in a country that was once mine, but I could no longer relate to. The natives knew I was a visitor, the White tourists thought I was for their pleasure. I went with one purpose--to find myself again. I lost myself in that relationship. I thought I knew who I was. But i was misguided for what I became to believe was love. A bitter resentful type of love that had me chasing an uncertain future filled with a dark past. I lost myself because I cheated on myself. Compromised who I was, swallowed my ideologies, lost MY BODY, MY CHOICE! I was no longer myself. But I could not see that until much later, until fleeing that phase in my life. Today, I look back. Grateful for everything he gave me, everything he took, and everything I lost. Thankful because that relationship taught me the most beautiful lessons, I learned how to love. Forever in debt because that relationship taught me how to be myself. That relationship, although not completely, helped lift the chains that held me back to reach my full potential. I did not leave jaded, worried that I would never love again.
On the contrary, I await 2011 with open arms because I know love is here. The events following the closure of that chapter in my life helped me realize who my true friends are, it brought to the limelight who really have my bests interest. It was unfortunate, but I realize that my true friends would be willing to share, help me ameliorate, that onus in my life. They know who they are. There is no need to publicly thank them. I do not think I can thank you enough because you all helped me come out, again. Come out a strong, beautiful joto.
It is this new joto that I take with me to 2011.
I know some of you will ask why I wrote this, perchance you will be disappointed in my decision to do so, but as Audre Lorde said, "I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood." I have found the voice I was looking for, it is time I use it to share my story with you.
I've recently met some amazing people that I grow more and more impatient every day to get to know better. <3 This new future will bring us closer.
2011 is also the last year of my undergraduate career. I remain in such a nepantla stage unknowing of what the future will bring. I have no clue where I will be in 6 months. But I am thrilled to find out what life has for me next.
Creator, you will always be with me. Abuelito, angelito de mi guardia, I know that whereever I end up, you will protect me. Thank you for the beautiful 2010 blessings. I await for the 2011 changes, challenges, successes, and soon to be amazing memories. A toast to you all.
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