"You should blog more about our food"

L* and I are secretly at work on the Postcolonial Cookbook: a guide for queer people of color reclaiming our foods and our health.

(Should the "queer" really go in there?)

Tonight for dinner, we're having chile beans: organic red, black, and pinto beans, simmered in a crock pot all day with garlic, onions, comino, coriander, paprika (lots), cayenne, oregano, white pepper, salt and a can of organic roasted crushed tomatoes. Serve topped with cilantro, green onions, organic low-fat monterey jack cheese and sliced avocado.



Yum!The food of the ancestors!

L* came up with this recipe when she read that the food HIGHEST in antioxidents was the "small red bean." Since we are partial to pinto and black beans, we had to stretch to incorporate the small red.

From WebMD:

"June 17, 2004 -- Blueberries may be the poster children for antioxidant abundance, but a new study suggests the humble bean may be a more deserving candidate.

The largest and most advanced analysis of the antioxidant content of common foods to date shows that disease-fighting antioxidants may be found in unexpected fruits and vegetables, such as beans, artichokes, and even the much-maligned Russet potato.

Researchers found that small red beans contain more disease-fighting antioxidants than both wild and cultivated blueberries, which have been heralded in recent years for their high antioxidant content. In fact, three of the top five antioxidant-rich foods studied were beans.

The study also shows that nuts and spices, such as ground cloves, cinnamon, and oregano, are rich in antioxidants, although they are generally consumed in much smaller amounts than fruits and vegetables."

Find the entire list of top antioxidant foods here: http://www.webmd.com/diet/guide/20061101/antioxidants-found-unexpected-foods

If your budget can't stretch to cover blueberries at five dollars a half-pint, consider the red bean.

Reclaim your food, people.

Garden day

L* has been in scavenging mood lately: she wants to drive around until she finds a piece of furniture on the side of the road and then bring it home and paint it.

So far, the pickings have been slim. She's acquired a couple of frames, and something that will make a good plant stand or garden altar.

Today she brought home a tire. so we can make a planter for the garden. I'm sure you've seen them!



So, of course, we're googling directions on how to cut these puppies and turn them inside out. And while looking, I found the most beautiful tropical bird planters, also made from tires.

Those girls in Miami have got to see this! It's right up their alley!



The tropical birds are for sale only, no directions. I've also heard rumors of a tire planter that looks like a swan.

Speaking of Those Girls in Miami, L* just got back from Home Depot, where she went to get mounting brackets to put up the most fabulous TRES REYES present from TGiM. It's painted full of love and beauty, and all the joy that L*'s garden represents.



I'll post pictures when it's up.

L*'s other project is to move the geraniums over to the other side of the garden so that she'll have a whole strip where she can plant corn. I can't wait! Our own milpa!

DNA

"We share 25% of our DNA with bananas. Get over yourself." --T-shirt slogan

The local Sangha just sent me a message that started with this slogan.
It made me want a banana.

Alma Lopez is back online

Hey, you know you stop checking somebody's blog for a whole year and you miss out on the resurrection. Alma Lopez is back bloggin for real. I just stumbled (almost literally) across her site: it was originally more of a place holder, with announcements of upcoming shows, but now she's showing you how it's done. Me, I still haven't figured out labels yet.

Alma's entries are really compelling, and really map out more of queer Latin@ health.

Buscando Querido

I'm sorry: writing under the title "Looking for Querido" makes me feel like a big ol' slut. Like Jill Clayburg in Looking for Mr. Goodbar.

But we were out at La Peña last night and ran into Marcia who said--as she does everytime we see her--you know my friend Querido lives in your neighborhood. Have you met Querido yet?" Marcia tells us her friend Querido is about our age, FTM.

We have not met Querido. That there should be a (nother?) Latino FTM on our block, and us not to have met would be just too crazy. If he had any other name, we could perhaps do the Marlon Brando and stand out on the street (in our torn t-shirt and jeans) and bellow out his name: "STELLA!"

But standing out on the street yelling "QUERIDO!" well! it will definitely have the neighborhood talking.

Not to mention starting rumors that one or the other of us is looking for a new Querido.

(Note: We're NOT!)

Side note:

In Bino Realuyo's novel the Umbrella Country the family is always renting out the second bedroom to boarders. The boarders are always women, and they then share in all the family meals, spaces, conversations, etc. At one point, the main character's mother and tía say that the new boarders are queridas. And this is said in the whisper of escándolo. So the first time I read this, I'm thinking....lovers? lesbians? But then it becomes clear: they're not queridas to each other. Each one is the querida of some married man. They're mistresses!

So maybe a neighborhood flyer is the answer. Again, we don't want to put Looking for Querido, because it makes us sound like loose wo/men.

My solution is to make a flyer with a picture of a kitten on it.


HAVE YOU SEEN QUERIDO?

510-555-1212




Then, "Have you seen Querido" will be innocuous to all the other neighbors, and only Querido will know it's directed at him. And he might actually call us. My only fear is that our next door neighbors will recognize L*'s phone number from the flier and worry that we've lost one of our cats.

Getting Strong Now (theme from Rocky)

You know how I say L* is getting a little stronger every day? Today she did a handstand. She's been working with a personal trainer on upper body strength. She wants to build up muscle in her chest before she makes any other decisions about surgery.

I feel like she's just going to fly any day now. Like I'm gonna have to tie a string around her ankle when we go out walking so she doesn't just float off and away.

And it's funny that this all happened this week, which is the same week that she felt within arm's reach of a nervous breakdown.

She went to the INCITE book launch tonight at Mills College and was thrilled by the tranzboi presence

SDSU: Tales from a Chicana Lesbian Detective

The Department of Women’s Studies at San Diego State University Presents

Feminist Research Colloquium
Lesbian Studies
Spring, 2007

Ktrion, Ph.D.

Tales from a Chicana lesbian detective


Monday, March 5, 2007
1-2:30pm, Storm Hall 247

Luis Alfaro

I played several of the pieces from Luis Alfaro's cd DOWNTOWN today, for my Coloring queer class. It's been a long time since I listened to him and it really made my day.

I'd forgotten there were references to tías with cancer, "La bruja maldita" as they call it. The narrator links this with "la bruja maldita" of love and of sorrow that grip him with his first gay relationship and its ending (respectively)

What L* is Giving Up for Lent:

Steak, Chicharrones, Carnitas, and Chicken Nuggets

Okay, obviously she can't afford to give up any foods! In fact, we were strongly considering having her start eating something for Lent. (Fudge Fridays! Red wine Wednesdays)

She's been going to her personal trainer and gym, and is getting stronger. The other day she was bored and waiting for either a television thing or a computer thing, and the next thing I knew she would "drop and give me ten!" Twice! I keep telling her that soon she will be doing pushups with me sitting on her back.

Lent 2007

You know, it's Lent now.

One year, on Ash Wednesday, I asked L* to smudge ashes on my forehead.

I didn't do that this year--the ashes always make my forehead break out--but I did give up sugar and white flour. Mostly because my body has been in mad sugar spiral all semester. I'm currently pumping it full of yerbas and amino acids and live cultures. We'll see how it all turns out.

I am still sweetening my coffee, with a little stevia (sweet leaf). It's got a kind of cloying aftertaste, like real licorice, but I kind of like that. (I can sit there and suck on a licorice twig, so I admit to being a bit of an oddball).

L* and I are putting together our ideas for our presentation on Saturday (see below).

My mom was just in town last weekend for a visit. It was wonderful! L* and I are both wiped out from the museo, dining, cooking, driving, lakewalk, and just the 24-hour presence of a house guest, but it was a great visit. My Mom is just fabulous, and she was really easy to be with. I got her hooked on Octavia Butler's DAWN while she was here, and she left with the trilogy in her luggage.

Driving through Oakland recently, I caught a glimpse of God's Gym out of the corner of my eye. Clearly G@d thinks I should go for a lakewalk today.



In my lit class, we're reading Sherman Alexie. Y'all just know how I love Sherman Alexie! Two of my favorite stories in the whole world are "A Drug Called Tradition" and "Distances." I ended up reading aloud most of "A Drug Called Tradition" to my students in class yesterday. I seem to find something more each time I read it.

This is what struck me yesterday:

The boys sit by the fire and breathe, their visions arrive. They are all carried away to the past, to the moment before any of them took their first drink of alcohol.

Onco-Trans-Género: Breast Cancer, Non-conforming Gender, and the Medical/Industrial Complex

22nd Annual Empowering Women of Color Conference

Our Bodies, Our Souls: Sistahood, Health, and Healing
Saturday, March 3, 2007
MLK Building, UC Berkeley

Workshop Session 3: 2:00-3:00 pm

Presenters: L* and Ktrion

Location: Stephens Lounge

This workshop will use poetry, journal entries, and personal storytelling to discuss the basics of breast cancer and a critique of the gender norms embedded in breast cancer treatment. The workshop will be presented from the point of view of a gender-queer Latina cancer patient and her partner as they navigate the medical/ industrial complex.

How Evil Are You?

How evil are you?

quilt day

Tomorrow is the day that my students turn in quilt blocks.

They have the option of writing a paper, of course, since that's what you're supposed to do in college classes. But I also give them the option of making a quilt block (or other fabric art) inspired by the readings, authors, topics, characters, and themes of the class.

I went digging through my digital files, 'cause I have some photographs from years back.

and I found my first quilt block (four blocks, actually).

I called it "Maria's got a chainsaw"

(L* was in DC that quarter, and so, as you see, I didn't have the benefit of her eye for color)

Gender Trouble

I got in gender trouble today
(can I get an "Amen" from all the Femme Girlfriends out there)

See, I was registering L* and I for a conference,
and I got to the part of the form to indicate gender.

(This itself is the result of a long struggle, so that when new folks join organization, they aren't confronted with the immediate male/female binary)

And the choices are
o-Male
o-Female
o-Other ____________

So after finding out what L* wanted put in her slot, I filled out my own and checked Other, and wrote in "Femme"

Some time later, L* contests, "I don't think you should get to put 'Other'"

It takes me some moments to actually understand what she's saying. Does "you" mean "one"? "people"? "I don't think people should get to put Other"? Or does "you" mean "you, Ktrion"? Indeed, it's the latter:

"I don't think you, Ktrion, femme, should be claiming transgendered space."

I hate being in gender trouble.

"I wasn't intending to appropriate transgendered space," I explain. "I was striving for a multiplicity of genders. In the vein of Anita Tijerina Revilla's research ¹ on the Raza Womyn de UCLA" "In spirit of Solidarity" I add.

L* allows that this might be OK.






¹See "Raza Womyn Re-Constructing Revolution," Ph.D. Dissertation, UCLA: 2004.

Hot flash

L* has been having hot flashes.
She's in chemo-pause, since
the chemo drugs brought her ovarian cycles to a screeching halt.
But sometimes she gets these hot flashes.

Time to bust out the chillow--
this chilly pillow with water in it to help her cool down
Right after we bought it, the weather turned cold
and the hot flashes went away
and the chillow spent the next three months under the bed.

The hot flashes are interrupting her sleep,
she wakes up and throws off all the covers
fanning herself.
(Much to the dismay of the the cold little ktrion, who wraps herself in blankets like an enchilada)

The other morning we were drinking our coffee in bed
and L* was hot flashing. She starts nudging the cats away from her
and flings back the blankets.

Ktrion says, "not for real, but in a story?
It would be funny if you--the character--
thought she was having hot flashes
and it really turned out that it was just the heat
of all the cats
snuggling up against her while she slept."

L* said:
"funny if you've never had a hot flash, maybe."

Meanwhile, back at the ranch....

Since last we posted, many, many things have happened. We're not necessarily ready to go into all the details here and now, but we do want to assure our friends and fellows that we're still kicking.

L* is now teaching a unit on hate speech in her class.

I'm trying to write a poem a week. In two of my classes, I'm currently teaching Beloved and Dawn, and its all starting to blur together in my head. With science fiction, i try to push my students in the "what would you do in her situation" direction.

Oh, Monday, you know, is the day of Remembrance for the internment of Japanese Americans. I use a unit from an old multicultural lit anthology which tells the students to imagine that they're government has just ordered them and their families to report for immediate relocation. (That is--the book I use has some really good material--poetry, photographs, fiction, memoir, government documents--but also includes really stupid "discussion questions.")

I actually tried to use this as a writing prompt back in the day when I was teaching al lit course. Many of my students were young Anglo men. The asserted that they would resist, even unto death. That is, that they would go down fighting. (and take as many as they could with them)

A similar thing happened recently in class discussion of Dawn, where several female students said that if they found themselves in Lilith's situation (captured by aliens who have "saved" humanity only to hybridize it through gene mixing) "I guess I would kill myself" one student after another said. (Actually that happened a little bit last semester, too, when I was teaching Parable of the Sower. Students said that, when confronted with a "hopeless" situation, they would kill themselves. (rather than trying to make a way out of no way). I'm both disheartened and amused. Disheartened that the young people--our hope--are so afraid and hopeless they would rather die than change. Amused because it seems to show how young they are still.

Two people have made the following mistake: they thought Ktrion was the one in the skinny jeans.

Against the cult of thinness

(with apologies to the two friends)

L* is the one in the skinny jeans.

And we rejoice, not because she's skinny--

chemo made her skinny--
chemo is why Ktrion screams at the television
when those diet commercials come on and say
"the pounds will just melt away"
I'll tell you what makes the pounds melt away
cancer and chemotherapy,
yes, the chemotherapy diet can work for you
take that appetite right away
you'll no longer be tempted by chocolate,
by carbs, by forbidden foods
by any foods at all
Ktrion is sweating now and turning red

We rejoice because the skinny jeans fit L*'s new form,
hug her new body, and say here we are in the here and now,
not in the suit, jeans, jacket, shirt that doesn't fit anymore.

We do not follow the cult of thinness
Whatever size L* is wearing (x)
Ktrion is wearing 10+x

We will love whatever size jeans
hug L's body
and give her back her mojo
and put her in the driver's seat

a fridge poem from oakland

a fridge poem, for andie, amy, and L*

La Suegra

L* got home around twelve last night.

As usual, la Suegra surprised us all with her strength and her good sense. She did need to be with her husband last night after the surgery. He was disoriented coming out of the anesthesia, and she was able to comfort him and ground him, and let him know that even in all that confusion, she was there for him and wasn't going anywhere.

I'm constantly amazed by her at times like this. Just in the last six (oh, my god, 6 ?) months I've seen her come through like this, where she goes from being the really nice, well-mannered, friendly nana we all know and love, and it's like she moves aside this curtain and you see the mastermind has really been running the show all along. You might think she's just puttering around in her garden, dispensing amiable advice to a generation who only rarely attends, and then you see that she really is rock solid, and braver and more together than you could possibly feel.

At times like that it seems as if the rest of us go from the sensible practical people we believe ourselves to be, to a slightly hysterical swarm of bees, alighting on one branch and then another, frenzied and confused, and she just shakes her head from behind her beekeeper's veil and goes on with what she has to do.