Arara was my nickname
© Rossana Reis, 2015
Given by meu pai moreno
Because I liked to talk
Like a macaw
Little did I know
At the time
Arara was from Tupi
So was mandioca
Used in pão de queijo
Little did I know
At the time
Every nutty, fruity, sweet bite
Was from Tupi
Caju, maracujá, goiabada
Little did I know
At the time
The many colors of skin
Were cores de cunhadismo
Little did I know
At the time
The fazendas were stolen lands
Little did I know...
Reflecting back on academia, work and social events in my life, I realize how much I struggled to conform to linear ways of thinking--namely in written English or American Sign Language. I reflect on how much I have been interrupted by white American folks before I could fully express myself, often unrelated to clarification of words or signs. I have often had to code switch or relegate myself to the keyboard because these breaks of my being left me unable to express myself during these moments.
© Rossana Reis, 2015
In order to survive, I code switched to writing in straight lines--introduction, body, then conclusion--to make it easier for white American English readers to understand me. For white Deaf signers, I sign in a diamond shape fashion-- the introductory topic/thesis, expand, then conclude. I did not realize how much I have internalized linear ways of expressing until I found myself warning other Deaf folks of color to do the same. Otherwise, those workplaces, classes, or events--predominantly white--will interrupt them repeatedly before they could fully express themselves. And this, I had to unlearn and encourage others to find their own ways of expressing themselves.
When I'm around folks who appreciate and value my unlinear way of expressing myself, I dance, glide across and twirl...a beautiful dance. A beautiful image. Sometimes, I "set the stage," "paint the picture," hooking them into suspense until a powerful or humorous finale is revealed. Other times, I "zigzag" like telling a story, going off track for background, then getting back on track. This is the Latina part of me. As a Neurodivergent, I sometimes thank my oppressors because I have an array of expressive tools not only available to me but also with those who may need alternative/ accessible ways of processing. And so I arrive, full circle...grateful for the zigzag, the linear and all ways inbetween.
Raise fists for the underloved...
© Rossana Reis, 2015
Black Mamas fighting for their dignity and Black Lives to Matter. Every. Single. Day.
Displaced Indigenous Mamas endlessly fighting to protect their land, water and air for now and generations to come
UndocuMamas separated from their families and fighting to reunite with their loved ones
Queer and TransMamas of Color fighting extreme poverty and access to employment, housing, and healthcare services
Sex Working Mamas who do it so their kids can eat or simply because they love their jobs
Sick, Disabled, Neurodivergent, Deaf, DeafBlind, DeafDisabled, Hard of hearing Mamas fighting for their rights to be and to be treated as Mamas
Human trafficked, domestic violence and sexual assault Mama Survivors facing a lifetime of trauma and healing
Grieving imprisoned Mamas separated from their newly born children
Mamas with multiple intersecting identities and experiences named above
And the list goes on...
Moonlight up-down stairs routines
© Rossana Reis, 2015
and dancing laundry machines
Afternoon telenovelas e cafés
and nightly solitaire and Marlboro smokes
So many funny sleepwalking stories
from the oldest to youngest, even pai
Roupas sewn with many agulhas
through her tried and true arthritic thumb
Mochilas e bolsas sewn together
from manchas coloridas of faux leather
Backyard jardim de legumes
tomatoes, scallions and squash
Visitas from her precious deer friends
and excited calls to crianças
to witness these beautiful beings
Front yard medley of marigolds
monarch butterflies and beehives
Danças de samba na cozinha
to Prince's Little Red Corvette
as she made Brazilian quibes
Orange wrap around pink rollers
in her long jet black cabelo
Shimmery green eyeshadows
and patone of red batons
Abraçãos e beijãos tattooed
all over minhas bochechas
Brazilian Portuguese glossary:
abraçãos- slang for big hugs
agulhas- needles
batons- lipsticks
beijãos- slang for big kisses
bolsas- handbags
cabelo- hair
cafés- literally coffees but a play on words
to mean afternoon breakfasts (cafés de manhãs)
coloridas- colorful
crianças- kids/children
danças de sambas- samba dances
jardim de legumes- vegetable garden
mamãe- mom
manchas- patches
mementos- mementos
memórias- memories
minhas bochechas- my cheeks
mochilas- backpacks
na cozinha- in the kitchen
pai- short for papai, dad
quibe- fried/baked croquette usually made w/ bulgar
wheat, minced lamb & other ingredients; kibbeh dish
introduced to Brazil by Levantine immigrants
roupas- clothes
telenovelas- soap operas
visitas- visits
My heart sinks
© Rossana Reis, 2015
when you say
we are not ready
to include you
We do not have the
caring currencies
I long await for replies
to my calls n emails
The sting of these
empty actions
and bitter words
pierce my heart
many times over
When I am included
information requests
are not honored
I am left to create
my own storylines
I get nervous pats
shifting heads
to other voices
brief smiles n exchanges
as if offered sweet candies
only to be yo yo'd back
I sometimes don't know
who is here even though
I receive finger spelled names
in the palm of my hands
I am not able to memorize
and connect them
with unfelt presences
pláticas passed over
desexualized and disposable
my fierce femme flame
reduced to access issues
I sit in the corner as
a weight not a warrior
left to mingle with
tactile ASL interpreters
I hunger for meaningful
and sustaining connections
I am just another body
filling up empty seats
I am just here
Instead I want
your shifting heads
and voices to
ACKNOWLEDGE
the space we share
honor AUTHENTICITY
MUTUAL EXCHANGE
of mad gifts of love
art and knowledge
I want us to
SHARE this CIRCLE
HOLD SACRED SPACE
for each other to
LISTEN, LEARN, LOVE
and do better
STARTING TODAY
you, me
TOGETHER
this is an
INTIMATE
PROCESS
A POSSIBILITY
for a LASTING
CONNECTION