american political poetry in the 21st century - STIBA Malang
american political poetry in the 21st century - STIBA Malang
american political poetry in the 21st century - STIBA Malang
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MIGRATORY AGENCY 137<br />
compar<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> immigrant’s future use of English to parts of <strong>the</strong><br />
Mexican world appears <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last l<strong>in</strong>e of <strong>the</strong> first stanza: “you / can ask<br />
for a raise, cool as <strong>the</strong> Tuxpan River.” Whereas this l<strong>in</strong>e clearly has a<br />
negative connotation, many that follow do not. The speaker claims<br />
that “<strong>in</strong> this class,” <strong>the</strong>y “speak English refrito.” This refried English is<br />
<strong>in</strong>vigorated and transformed by Mexican places and experiences. They<br />
learn to speak English “tuned like a requ<strong>in</strong>to from Uruapan,” “lighted<br />
by Oaxacan dawns,” and “spiked / with mezcal from Juchitan.” These<br />
juxtapositions exclaim a dissident sensibility: Students, English is yours,<br />
take it, make it your own, and do not lose your language and culture.<br />
Speak English like Pancho Villa or Emiliano Zapata, not like George<br />
Wash<strong>in</strong>gton. She suggests that immigrants must reimag<strong>in</strong>e <strong>the</strong><br />
language of Wash<strong>in</strong>gton <strong>in</strong> order to speak it <strong>the</strong>mselves.<br />
The abundance of Mexican place names (Benito Juarez, Zochicalco,<br />
Toluca, Tuxpan River, Teocaltiche, Uruapan, Oaxacan, Juchitan,<br />
Zapotec, Nahuatl, Lake Patzcuaro, and Jalisco) Mexicanize English<br />
and render it accessible to immigrants. More critically, <strong>the</strong> speaker<br />
eventually shifts from what <strong>the</strong> students will be able to do practically<br />
with English to what <strong>the</strong> students will br<strong>in</strong>g to English and how<br />
<strong>the</strong>y will change it—how <strong>the</strong>y will attack it, have fun with it, and stamp<br />
new vibrancies on its syntax, its surfaces. These impulses emerge primarily<br />
from <strong>the</strong> notion that <strong>the</strong>se immigrants/students have <strong>political</strong><br />
agency, as <strong>the</strong> English <strong>the</strong>y will learn to speak will be “poured from /<br />
a clay jug.” As such, it will orig<strong>in</strong>ate with <strong>the</strong>ir histories, experiences,<br />
poverty, and <strong>the</strong>ir sense of <strong>the</strong> earth; it will not be poured <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong>m by<br />
<strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant North American culture (from a Coke bottle, for<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance). The students will do <strong>the</strong> pour<strong>in</strong>g of <strong>the</strong>ir cultures <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong><br />
dom<strong>in</strong>ant one, which suggests both a type of power and <strong>the</strong> potential<br />
danger of <strong>the</strong>ir culture be<strong>in</strong>g swallowed by <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant one.<br />
Valdez might overestimate <strong>the</strong> agency immigrants have <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir transition<br />
between cultures and languages; never<strong>the</strong>less her images of <strong>the</strong><br />
power of <strong>the</strong>se Spanish speakers to transform English are <strong>in</strong>spir<strong>in</strong>g and<br />
<strong>in</strong>clusive. When <strong>the</strong> speaker “welcome(s)” <strong>the</strong> “amigos del sur,” she<br />
encourages <strong>the</strong>m to “br<strong>in</strong>g” a variety of th<strong>in</strong>gs with <strong>the</strong>m, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir “Zapotec tongues” and “Nahuatl tones.” In do<strong>in</strong>g so, she opens<br />
wide <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>guistic and cultural doors of welcome, especially because<br />
even <strong>in</strong> Mexico <strong>in</strong>digenous speakers of Zapotec and Nahuatl (even if<br />
bil<strong>in</strong>gual) are often marg<strong>in</strong>alized from <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong>stream. She also<br />
encourages <strong>the</strong>m to “br<strong>in</strong>g” <strong>the</strong>ir cultural icons with <strong>the</strong>m. If North<br />
American “patron sa<strong>in</strong>ts” are Batman and Wash<strong>in</strong>gton, <strong>the</strong>ir “patron<br />
sa<strong>in</strong>ts” are “Santa Tristeza, Santa Alegria, Santo Todolopuede.” Here<br />
earlier dualisms prevail—if <strong>the</strong>re is a sa<strong>in</strong>t of sadness, <strong>the</strong>re is also one of