My New Blog

I found a Feminist blogging site appropriate called Feminist Blogs. It aggregates posts from feminist blogging sites to one location. Its pretty freakin' cool.

I decided I need to get in on this so, I created a new blog that will be dedicated to my flavor of political theory, rather than documenting my life experiences and general thoughts. I'm calling it On Women and Technology. I think my first post will be on what the url means (http://xfuerza.blogspot.com) and the second will my first thoughts on justifying women's leadership in technology.

Just a good day

Frequently I find my life full of unsolicited drama. So I get to days like today when the only things on my plate are a hard days work and some quality time and care for my daughter, I find that I am a bit surprised by the sense of calm and focus I feel.

Today is just a good day and nothing more to say....How freakin' great is that!?!

Myers-Briggs and other forms of astrology

Myers-Briggs : ENFJ : I'm a smooth-talkin' persuader, but I already knew that.

Happy to know I am guided by my heart and moderated by my mind.

Now if my Latina magazine horoscope holds true I'll have to go visit Ines' curandera to finish the healing and fully welcome my new life.

I quote Shakira,

"I'm really a cat you see.
And its not my last life at all.
Hey Hey
Don't bother I won't die of deception."

Question of the Day

?Quien soy?
?Y quien debo hacer?

Muchos anos han pasado....I've asked myself these questions over and over again waiting for a better answer.

La verdad es que ya tengo las repuestas....and I have always had them. The problem is that the answers are fluid como agua y fuerte como fire.

Yo se quien soy.
Yo soy una mujer, chicana y feminista of limitless courage, strength and vision.

X*fuerza, no more.

Como Duele

as presented by Women in World History

Como Duele
by Adaljiza Sosa-Riddell

Ese, vato, I saw you today
en Los y Sacra
en Santa Barbara, Sanfra
and everywhere else.
You walked, Chicano chulo,
eagle on your jacket,
y “carnales y carnalas,”
y “Que Viva la Raza.”

But where were you when
I was looking for myself?
As if I didn’t know.
Where the MAN and
all his pendejadas
sent you,

To Dartmouth, Los Angeles City College,
Barber’s School, La Pinta,
Korea, and Vietnam; too many of you
returned wrapped como enchiladas
in red, white, and blue.

A Chicano at Dartmouth?
I was at Berkeley, where,
there were too few of us
and even less of you.
I’m not even sure
that I really looked for you.

I heard from many rucos
that you
would never make it.
You would hold me back;
From What?
From what we are today?
“Y QUE VIVA”
Pinche, como duele ser Malinche.

My name was changed, por la ley.
Probrecitos, they believed in me,
That I was white enough
to stay forever,
that I would never find you again.

I found you, Chicano,
but only for a moment,
Never para siempre.
Temilotzin died the morning after,
Malinche.
It’s too late.
The world does not wait
for indecision,
neither do Chicanos.

And mis pobres padres
taught me
not to hurt
others too much.
Malinche, pinche,
forever with me;

I was born out of you,
I walk beside you,
bear my children with you,
for sure, I’ll die
alone with you.

Perhaps I died before,
when I said good-bye
al barrio y al Cruiser.
He went to road camp,
por grifo y peleonero.
While I was saved—
for what?

Pinche, como duele ser Malinche.
Pero sabes, ese,
what keeps me from shattering
into a million fragments?
It’s that sometimes,
you are el hijo de la Malinche, too.

Yo Soy La Malinche

as presented on Women of World History

La Malinche
by Carmen Tafolla

Yo soy la Malinche.

My people called me Malintzín Tenepal
the Spaniards called me Doña Marina

I came to be known as Malinche
and Malinche came to mean traitor.

they called me—chingada
Chingada.
(Ha— ¡Chingada! ¡Screwed!)

Of noble ancestry, for whatever that means,
I was sold into slavery by MY ROYAL FAMILY—so
that my brother could get my inheritance.

…And then the omens began—a god, a new civilization,
the downfall of our empire.
And you came.
My dear Hernán Cortés, to share your “civilization”
—to play a god, ... and I began to dream .. .
I saw
and I acted.

I saw our world
And I saw yours
And I saw—
another.

And yes—I helped you—against Emperor Moctezuma
Xocoyotzín himself.
I became Interpreter, Advisor, and lover.
They could not imagine me dealing on a level
with you—so they said I was raped, used,
chingada
¡Chingada!

But I saw our world
and your world
and another.

No one else could see
Beyond one world, none existed.
And you yourself cried the night
the city burned
and burned at your orders.
The most beautiful city on earth
in flames.
You cried broken tears the night you saw
your destruction.

My homeland ached within me
(but I saw another).

Mother world
a world yet to be born.
And our child was born ...
and I was immortalized Chingada!

Years later, you took away my child (my sweet
mestizo new world child)
to raise him in your world
You still didn’t see.
You still didn’t see.
And history would call me
Chingada.

But Chingada I was not.
Not tricked, not screwed, not traitor.
For I was not traitor to myself—
I saw a dream
and I reached it.
Another world………
la raza.
La raaaaa-zaaaaa ...

Yo Soy Joaquin

I Am Joaquin
by Rodolfo Corky Gonzales

Yo soy Joaquín,
perdido en un mundo de confusión,
enganchado en el remolino de una
sociedad gringa,
confundido por las reglas,
despreciado por las actitudes,
sofocado por manipulaciones,
y destrozado por la sociedad moderna.
Mis padres
perdieron la batalla económica
y conquistaron
la lucha de supervivencia cultural.

Y iahora!
yo tengo que escojer
en medio
de la paradoja de
triunfo de espíritu,
a despecho de hambre física,
o
existir en la empuñada
de la neurosis social americana,
esterilización del alma
y un estómago repleto.

I am Joaquin
by Rodolfo Corky Gonzalez

I am Joaquin,
lost in a world of confusion,
caught up in the whirl of a
gringo society,
confused by the rules,
scorned by attitudes,
suppressed by manipulation,
and destroyed by modern society.
My fathers
have lost the economic battle
and won
the struggle of cultural suvival.

And now!
I must choose
between
the paradox of
victory of the spirit,
despite physical hunger,
or
to exist in the grasp
of American social neurosis,
sterilization of the soul
and a full stomach.

Question of the Day

Who will fund the revolution?