Negrita Chronicles: resentment

i am disturbed and frequently feel isolated because my existence as a black dominicana is constantly neglected or silenced within formal and informal spaces.

i am troubled by the realities of most latinas like myself who are underrepresented in the U.S. depending on where we live.especially where i live. i feel shame admitting it. but there are times i resent my closest hermanas. "i resent her for the access she has to her culture, her people, and her experiences as a Chicana, Boricua, Dominicana. but i cant be mad at her or her privilege to this form of access. i have the right to be mad but she still is my sister.sometimes i am troubled by her failure to recognize my silence." over time i learned that i must turn this anger into transformative action. this anger, this silence into something that matters. madness only drives you to do 'crazy' things. and i now just need to learn from this experience and move forward. i felt shame feeling resentment. and this shame led me to silence myself for fear of exposing my vulnerability to the ways in which internalized forms of oppression affect communities of color.

this is why i can relate to gloria anzaldua's "las fronteras" ( the borderlands) i am confined by these imaginary lines of demarcation that attempt to deny or neglect my experience. sometimes i dont know what to do. there are moments when i am angry, sad, frustrated, and most times i just want to scream. i am so sick of having to explain myself or feeling the need to explain myself. it is upsetting and so dehumanizing. at times i am more upset at the fact that people of color treat me worse than whites. i never feel quite at home when i am in a space that should be "home." but anzaldua has helped me understand that in some ways i may never be home. that home is what you make it. and not in the physical sense. but home lies within me. i reject those patriarchal notions of home. "home is where your (nuclear/heterosexual) family is?" Shit, home is where love is. and love is more than a feeling. it is an action and intention. love is not a physical place neither is home. i also learned that  being an outsider is not necessarily a bad thing. trying to fit in and be seen is not the goal. i must love me! i must accept me! i must know that i am worthy. while some dominicans will not accept me. and most latinas will reject me and my blackness. all that matters is that i accept me. it's about love. it is the willingness to extend yourself for another person's spiritual growth and vice versa. in this vein, home (love) begins inside of me. 

while there are these lived realities that shape our sociopolitical experiences that i cannot avoid or deny. i must find peace/love/comfort within before i can take action on the structures and institutions that continue to dehumanize us. i must work to let go of my baggage before i can work to overthrow years and years of institutional and ideological baggage.  

with courage,

rebel p.