My first largely published work will be dedicated to La Mapu and pennies.
My mother and father will forgive me and Katie will understand.
But the first one goes to La Mapu because
We threw a party and no body came.
We threw a party and we ran from work, and counted pennies and lifted chairs , and baked cupcakes , and fought with strollers, and
nobody came.
And when I saw La Mapu , my first thought was ” why is she here” . My second” YES SHE IS HERE”
because we wanted to show her something.
because we believed that people who said they would come would come.
because we believed that even though every ” working on it white woman” who couldn’t find their way to a decent link or even a respectful rsvp couldn’t stop us
because having to bed people who quote you to treat you with even a MODICUM of respect or swallowing the bile again this time because maybe you might get enough money to live
because we didn’t have to be flashy or “cool” or with it or “hip”to be respected .
That for one night she could see us being loved and listened to for who we are.
That was not the night.
we waited as it settled chasing Poroto , giggling , laughing, fighting it back watching two hours slip away
No one was coming
No one wanted to show Mapu that.
We are sistas with brown skin we knew that from jump.
How no one could understand what it was like to work and grit your teeth against every ” Why are you here? ” question. Even when asked with love because until someone else wants to pay your loans, mothers health insurance, fathers upkeep and deal with your bad teeth, tired soul, and old eyes in a young face the wonder at the “wasting of your life” is just one more judgement you don’t need.
To be a mami and wonder exactly how many times you gotta rob Peter to pay Paul and how in the hell did these muhfuggers get your money anywho?
To read how amazing you are , while no one gives a damn about mitigating your pain , your suffering or even finding out what your history is?
or can even say your name when they talk about how amazing you are.
to wonder if this silence this ignoring this “forgetfulness ” is planned or just the final realization that while talking about you is sufficient, privilege and entitlement means you can be ignored pretty fully and suffer no consequences , because someone is always eager to take your place?
and you ‘ve no idea which is worse.
we wanted to show her something different and this was not the night.
And I cried myself to sleep for three days , and rediscovered my habit of wiping my dry face to remember not to cry
and promising my first work to La Mapu and the pennies that were counted to get her there.
So I can promise nothing more of “fight” in me for a while but this CD , this thing that is such a danger that is such a myth that it’s existence is whispered ignored or written out of hat as the raving of “those women”
and we still believe .
if nothing else we show her that.
