latina liberation

‘Person of Color’

I was shocked the first time I heard it in real life.
As if I was hearing someone repeat a paper written by a kkk member.

I am Mexican, a Hispanic; not a ‘person of color’.
My native ancestors were persecuted for their religion during la Conquesta.
As were my Catholic ancestors, during la guerra Christera.
Neither died as martyrs to be belittled to ‘martyrs’ of color’.

My veins are both rich in Native and Spanish blood,
I refuse to let that be forgotten and replaced with a term, as insulting as: ‘colored blood’.

My skin as white as the snow that falls onto Spainish land during winter. My eyes as dark as the bark on trees in my country, my hair as black as the coal found under my native Mexico.
I refuse to let that be forgotten, and recognized as simply ‘colored traits’.

My last name is a Spanish last name, which I carry as proudly as my first name: A Nahuatl name.
Which is a constant reminder of who I am, and where I come from. I refuse to let my name ever be considered just ‘colored name’.

I am a Mexican, a Hispanic, and I refuse to let that be stripped away and forgotten under a term like ‘person of color’.



Latina of the Day #1: Dolores Huerta

 Dolores Huerta is a civil-rights & farm workers activist. She co-founded the United Farm Workers of America with Cesar Chavez. She helped win fights for ballot access and rights for latinxs and she organized the Delano grape strike. Many latinxs consider her a role model for the community. 

momofmysquad  asked:

I wasn't sure wether we had to sumbit again for round 2, so here it goes name: Julia
age: 14 (15 in 3 months)
gender + pronouns: girl, she/her
sexual + romantic orientation: not sure. Pretty open.
hobbies + likes: webcomics, reading, binging YouTube, and anime.
what you are looking for in a person: someone who I can depend on and they can depend on me. Someone nice and open.
age range dating wise: 13-16
tell a little about yourself: I am Latina, liberal, and pretty motherly.

you and @violetphil seem like a good match !

I…I literally just had to read some horseshit on fb with my own eyes about how the focus of yesterday’s marches would have been more “progressive” if they hadn’t been about women.
This is the kind of shit I expect from anti-feminists and the like but the fact that this was written by a woman who calls herself progressive….
How is telling women not to talk about themselves or their issues suddenly breaking the stats quo? We’ve been silenced for more than long enough, and I’m not interested in any “progressive” movement that wants to maintain that.
Liberals do not give a single shit about women.
I’m thankful every day that I realized that and moved away from it, I hope other women can do the same.


I once proclaimed, “You will stand with me at all of my intersections or none at all.”

Recently, Jennicet Gutierrez stood before the President of the United States and boldly demanded he answer for his administration’s treatment of immigrants within detention centers (in particular those of trans immigrants). We know the stories, we know of the rape, the abuse, the violence that our kin have to suffer. We know, too, that this administration, while doing some good, is also held hostage by white supremacy. As a Black, Trans, African, Cuban, Indigenous woman, as a daughter of an immigrant, as a woman who has found herself in the white house bearing witness to their lack of accountability, I celebrate my sister Jennicet. What she did, no mainstream LGB Org would dare to do for they are typically more concerned with kissing the feet of oppressive systems rather then challenging them and  often their need for validation and privilege trumps anyone’s suffering. What she did, abuser dynamics says should never be done, but she did it anyway, knowing she had the gaze of the world, the responsibility of her people, and the chance of becoming hated by the U.S.

While I can love and adore Jennicet, I can also celebrate the president and admire his continued determination to change as much as he can, while critiquing  his administration and familiar misogynist tactics when he silenced Jenicent. As a black woman, I can see our president, within his intersection as black man, desiring liberation, while recognizing, because of his title as POTUS, he is an overseer of structural oppression. I also notice that now everyone is talking about an issue the White House has had brought to them, time and time again, within the parameters of respectability politics and, until now, has yet to care about. But this blog is not a critique of the White House or even of the mainstream LGB movement that has completely abandoned trans women, LGBTQ homeless youth and elders, and LGBTQ people of color in their quest for marriage equality. This is an observation of a standing trend, of a certain type of white woman who feels it is their duty to critique women of color with little intersectional thought or understanding around the way white women have been wielded by white supremacy and many a white man to silence us, commit acts of violence against us and erase us.

Dawn Ennis’s condemnation of Jennicet’s tactics are not a shock to me, neither is her whiteplaining blog which utilizes “sorry” as a weapon of silencing not accountability, neither is the fact she is a white woman believing her opinion is worthy of consideration in a fight built off the backs of trans women of color, which, by the way, now allow for her to be a trans woman in a position of privilege. Dawn Ennis is the white woman we have seen before. Stands proudly, totting her marginalized intersection as if it will absolve of her of whiteness. Awarded a position while those doing the actual fighting for rights, she now enjoys, continue to be slaughtered by the same system of white supremacy she honors with her respectability politics. Standing, happily, defending the president as if every piece of pro-LGBTQ legislation passed was not purchased by the blood of her TWOC sisters.

Let me be clear, the United States for many of us is a maze full of death traps. For many of us trans women of color, not only do we have to carry the LGBTQ community on our backs, but we must pour countless libations of our tears for the communities housed in our other intersections. We have been told at every turn that if we want change we must be docile and complacent and wait for a white shinning knight to swoop in and speak for us. We have been erased by history books and told our oral histories aren’t valid. We have been accused of being jaded and violent while screaming against a system that is literally tying a noose around our necks. We are told to be grateful to a system that stole our rites/rights from our indigenous ancestors and after we have suffered much, said system throws one or two back at us like scraps. We are told to worship men who mistreat us and abandon our own self worth as to appear more pleasing in their sight. We are told that our deaths don’t matter, time and time again, while mainstream America demands access to our blood, sweat, labor, tears, loyalty, art, anaylsis and sensuality. We are attacked by TERF feminist who themselves desire freedom from misogyny and yet embody those same ideologies misogyny has placed on people of color around “what makes a woman.” We are attacked and asked to be resilient and understanding and find another way to fight all the while our sisters continue to be killed with no national outcry, with no national initiatives, with no national accountability for it’s stake in a system that promotes this violence against us. We are told to allow non trans people to speak for us although we are all capable of speaking for ourselves. We are told to love Ellen DeGeneres and Meryl Streep while being scolded for remembering Weewah, Sylvia Rivera, and Marsha P Johnson. We are told to forget the words of Sojourner Truth who proclaimed “Well, ain’t I a woman” and Beah Richards whose piece “ A Black Woman Speaks” denounced the white racist feminist of her time.

No, Dawn Ennis’s article is not a shock to me, neither is her assumption that she should be able to say anything, out of her mouth, to condemn a woman of color with no retribution. Her “sorry” was a pale imitation of an apology and a way of silencing the oppressed while upholding oppressive systems (She would be able to recognize this if she had even the smallest dose of intersectional thought). “Sorry” is something the United States has wielded time and time again as a tool to absolve themselves of any accountability around historical violence against people of color and this country’s buy in to systems that promote the same violent tactics and anti-blackness here and globally.  “Sorry” is something we are told as black people, latinas, indigenous people, women that we should hear and immediately become complacent around the impact of violence used against us. It is yet another scrap thrown before us to make us go away, and wait for the next axe to fall.

These white women steeped in their privilege and bathed in our blood can not keep demanding our solidarity while buying into systems that continue to kill us, throw us under the bus and  attempt to silence our voices. For too long, many of them have been the whip of oppression telling us we are angry while attempting to police our responses with respectability politics critique. But then again, maybe, I am asking too much from some of these new wave of privileged white trans women riding the coat tails of  their trans ancestors and sisters. So, I will just repeat again, “You will stand with me at all of my intersections or none at all.” Now, run tell that.


“We knew that we would not be victorious but we had to hit our oppressor hard to show our determination to struggle for the independence of Puerto Rico, to the other countries of the world….We sent these troops to attack the [police] headquarters at noon and there and then the shootout began. We ran out of bullets and then seized the headquarters with molotov cocktails…I raised the flag of Puerto Rico and screamed "Viva Puerto Rico Libre” to establish the fact that we had proclaimed the Republic…

I was in jail for 16 years and 10 months, almost 17 years. The empire does not give recognition to the political prisoner. I was treated like a common prisoner. During the first eight months I was incommunicado….Time and time again they tried to destroy my revolutionary spirit and to do away with the love I had for my country and the right to fight for her…

The role of the woman is as important as of the man [in the revolution]. The revolutionary woman must act accordingly with the demands of the revolution, be it to arm herself, educate her people, or whatever is necessary.“

—Puerto Rican resistance leader Blanca Canales, a political prisoner after the Jayuya Uprising of 1950, interviewed in 1970

Via Anti-Imperialist League