Children Passing in the Streets

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of The Roots Our Radicalism

"I learned to make nr,vmind large, as the universe is large, so that tl.rereis room for paradoxes."-Maxine Hong Kingston* We are \\'omen frorn all kinds of childhood streets: the farms ol Puerto Rico, tl-redowntorvr.rstreets of Chinatorvn, tl-rebarrio, cityBronx streets, quiet suburban sidewalks, the plains, and the reserr.'ation. In tl-risfirst section, you rvill find voices from our childhoods, our youth. What lve learnecl about survival -trying to-pass-for-wl-rite, e a s y - t o - p a s s - f o r - r v h i t " s h e c o u l d n ' tp a s s i n a r n i l l i o n y e a r s . "H e r e , e, to we introclr.tce yor.r "color problenr"as it was first introduced to us: the "not rvl'riteenuf, not dark enuf", always up against a color chart that first got erected far outside our families and our neighborhoods,but which ir.naded them both r'r'ithsystematicdetermination. I n s p e a k i n go f c o l o r a n d c l a s s ,T i l l i e O l s e n o n c e s a i d : " T h e r e ' s o n * as sucl.r t].rir.rs passing."* Here are wonren of every shadeof color and grade of classto prove that point. For although sonre of us traveled more easilr'fror.u streetcorner to corner than the sisterrvhosecolor or p o v e r t l ' n r a d e h e r a n e s p e c i a l l l . v i s i b l e a r g e t t o t h e v i o l e n c eo n t h e t street, cr1/ us have been victims of tlie invisible violation r,t,hich of h a p p e n s i n t l o o r s a n d i n s i d e o i . r r s e l v e st:h e s e l f - a b n e g a t i o n , h e t s i l e n c e .t h e c o n s t a n tt h r e a t o f c u l t u r a l o b l i t e r a t i o n . We lvert-born into colored homes. We grew up lvith the inherent contradictions in the color spectrum right inside those iromes: the I i g h t e r s i s t r - r t h e r n i x e d - b l o o dc o u s i n , b e i n g t h e d a r k e s t o n e i n t h e f a n - r i l y . t d o e s n ' tt a k e m a n v y e a r s t o r e a l i z et h e p r i t ' i l e g e s , r l a c k I o t h e r e o f ,a t t a c h e dt o a p a r t i c u l a r s h a d eo f s k i n o r t e x t u r e o f h a i r . I t i s this experience that moves light-skinned or "passable" Third World \\,'ornen put ourselveson the line for our darker sisters.We are all to family. Frou'rthose far-nilies were on the one hand encouragedto we Ieave, to clir.nbup rvhite. Anc'lrvith the other hand, the reins r,vere held t i g h t o n u s , o r l r p a r e n t su n d e r s t a n d i n g h e d a n g e r t h a t b o r d e r e do u r t homes. We learr.red live u'ith these contradictions.This is the root of our to radicalisrl.
' I 1 : r r i r r c 'l l , ) n { K i r ) c s t o n 7 ' l u \ \ ' , t n a t t l t r i l l i o r l N e r v Y o r k : \ ' i n t a g e 1 9 7 7 ) ,p . 3 5 . t - F r o u r i r t a ) k g i v e n a t T l . r r - \ b n r e n s B u i l t i i n g s p o n s o r c db y ' T i r e F e n r i n i s tW r i t c r s \ G u i l c l .S a n l i r a n c i s c o \ o v e n r b e r 1 9 7 9 .

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When I Was Growing Up

NeIIie Wong
I know now that once I longed to be rvhite. How? you ask. Let n-retell you the ways. when I was growing up, people told me I was dark and I believed my own darkness in the mirror, in nry soul,rny own narrow vision when I was growir-rg up, my sisters with fair skin got praised f o r t h e i r b e a r r t va n d i n t h e d a r k I fell further, crushed between high walls when I was grolving up, I read magazines a n d s a w n r o v i e s ,b l o n d e m o v i e s t a r s ,w h i t e s k i n , sensuouslips and to be elevated,to become a \^,oman,a desirable woman, I began to wear irr-ragi nar_v pale ski n rvhen I was growing up, I was proud o f m y E n g l i s h ,m y g r a m n r a r ,m y s p e l l i n g fitting into the group of srnart chilclren s m a r t C h i n e s ec h i l d r e n , f i t t i n g i n , g b e l o n g i n g , e t t i n gi n l i n e u'hen I rvas growing up and went to high school, I discoveredthe rich white girls, a few yellor,t,girls, sweaters their imported cotton dresses,their cashn-rere their curl,v hair and I thought that I too should have what these lucky girls had r,vhenI was grou'ing r.rp,I hr.rngered for Anrerican food, American styles, c o d e d :w h i t e a n d e v e n t o m e , a c h i l d b o r n o f C h i n e s ep a r e n t s ,b e i n g C h i n e s e Iirriting, was feeling foreign, r,r'as was unAmerican

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when l was growing up ar-rd lvhitc ntan \\.iuttL_d a to takc rne out, I thougirt I n,as special, a n e x o t i c q a r d e n i a , n x i o u st o f i t a t h e s t e r e o t y p e f a n o r i e n t a lc h i c k o lr'hen I lvas srolving up, I felt asharnecl of some yellon rnen, their small trones, t h c i r f r a i l L r o d i e st,h e i r s p i t t i n e on the streets,heir cotrghing, t their lying in sunless oonls, r s h o c l t i n gh e n r s e l v e sn t h e a r m s t i

on not bein
mqry hope lee
b e a s n i a r t c h i l c lt r f i n g t o b e d u m b . . . n o t b l k e r r u ft o l o v i n l i i g n o r e .. . not bitter enuf to die at a early age.. .
rrtnz:ke shense+

when I was gro'nvine up, people r,r.ould ask if.I rvere Filipino, polyr-rersian, portngucse. Thev nan.red colors except r,r,hitc., shell all the of ury soul, btrt not r.rrv clark, rough skin wher.rI r,r.as sror,r,ingup, I felt dirtr.. I thought tl"rat goci rriacle n.l.rite people clean anci no n-iattcrhor,r, rnuch I bathecl, I could not change, I could not shcrl my skin in the gray rvater when I vvasgrowir.rg up, I srvore I would run a\^,ayto purplc n,rountains, h o u s e sb 1 ' t h e s e al v i t h n o t h i n q o v e r r r r v h e a d , r n , i t h p a c et o b r e a t h c , s uncongestedrvith t,ellclrvpeoltlc in an arca calleclChinato,"vn, an area I later learned ir.r r v a sa g h e t t o ,o n e o f r l a n v h e a r t s ttf Asian Anrerica

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she never wantecl no never once did she \\ranna be r'vhite/topass darker drear-ned only of beir.r r,r,anted be darker to she not yellorv/not no high bror'r'rtneither but brou'n/n arrl brolvrr she drearned/herbody rnoist earth bror,r't.r she pray'ed/forchocolate tter/su,eet semi/srveet/bi dark chocolatenipples cro\\'nln her sn-rall chestedtits 2 l'relshel'skisses s i t t i ns u ' e e tl i k e t o p o l 2 round scoopsof sn.rooth m i l k c h o c o l a t ei c e c r e a r n ! momma took her outta a l m o s ta l l b l a c k l i n c o l n h i g h cuz sl'reuseta catch hell every da,vin gyrn class t h e o t h e r g i r l s r e a c t i nt o h e r l i k c s h e ' u v a sh e c a u s eo f s o m e t kinda gau'dar,r'ful allergy'they all had c o n t a c tc o u l d b e f a t a l sun'ivors w,oulclbe scarrecl with kindness
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I knorv nolt'that once I longed to be ,uvhrte-. llow r.t'ranyntore rta)'s?,vor-r ask

F{ar,'en't t<,rld I 'ou enor-rgh?

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10 cuz she wasn dark enuf was stnart enuf wasn rowdy enuf had a white girl friend cuz none of them would be beige or buffiecru or chamois jus wasn color/ed enuf to get picked for the softball team wasn sufficient protection 'gainst gettin tripped in the shower she wondered/ would they have treated florence ballard so shabbily I but sheenviedthem all felt every once now and then they just mighta been righteouslyjustified since/afterall they was brown like the sun loved they skin special cuz it warmed'em chestnut bronze copper sepia cinnamon cocoa rnahogany her/shewas drab faded out yellow like a scorchedjuly sky just fore it rains & rinses away tl-rehint of brown fror-r-r smog the sl.rewasn/ no rnaureen peal

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no'high yellorv drearn child' not/dichtY a hex muttered not/hinkty a curse let fly not/saditty like girls rt'as spozedto be did they urent to catholic school or was they frour geruranto$'nor hilis or baldr,,,'in valencia park

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the first one to ask/her he {the rnan she r.trarried/cuz r'r'as else u'ould/said he thought he was gonna bein afraid no body hafta marry hisself rt ltitc cuz/he couldn find him no colored t g i r l w a s / i n - t e l - l i - g e n e - n u f f f / b u t r n ' i t hh e r b e i n t h e n e x t b e s tt h i n g t o w h i t e . .

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Cherrte l\fu;ragtt

For the Color of MY Mother

Cherrie Moraga
mother I am a white girl gonebrown to the bloodcolor of m2the unnamedpart of the mouth speaking her through for muzzleof brou'nwotnetl the wide-arched at two my upper lip split oPen clear to the tip of mY nose it spilled forth a cry that would not yield that travelled down six floors of hospital where doctors wound rne into white bandages only the screaming mouth exPosed the gash sewn back into a snarl wolrld last for years I ant a white girl gone broutn to the blood colu' of mv mother speak[ngfor her at five, her mouth pressedinto a seam a fine blue child's line drawn acrossher face her mouth, pressedinto mouthing english mouthing yes Yes Yes mouthing stooPlift carrY (sweatingwet sighs into the field her red bandana comes loose from under the huge brimmed hat movilrg acrossher uPPerliP) at fourteen, her mouth painted, the ends drawn ttP the rnole in the corner colored in darker larger mouthing yes she praying no no no lips pursed and moving

l'rerrnouth at fortY-five, her ston'rach [i""aing ir-rto gupinggrortirrgrt.-lder if,"-r-tor" pallor father's i""p""i"g nitir rny breaslbotte

r r r o l l l h i 1 't o f i n a l l y s t i t c h e ds n u l V arr irrverted Vera Elvira my mctlher brrtwn tctthe bktod coktrof I am a white girl gitrte speakingfor her as it should be dark lvor'retl col''e to t'"rrrrrr-,, I passthrough their.hands the head of uv nlother painted in claY colors touching each carved feature srvollen eYesand mouth the splitting they understand the explosion n'ithin the fixed expresslon contained open they cradle her siicnce oddi.g to me

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I Am What I Arn
Rosario Morales
I haven'twanted to say it I am what I am and I am U.S. American becauseif I did you'd take away the Puerto Rican but now I say go to hell I am what I arn and you can't take it away with all the lvords I am what I am I am Puerto and sneers at your command Rican I am U.S^ Arnerican I am New York Manhattan and the Bronx I am what I am I'rn not hiding under no stoop beirind no I am what I am I am Boricua as boricuas come from the curtain isle of Manhattan and I croon Carlos Gardel tangoesin my sleep and Afro-Cuban beatsin my blood and Xavier Cugat's lukewarm latin is so familiar and dear sneer dear but he's familiar and dear but not who's a joke becauseI never was a joke I was Carmen Miranda a bit of a sensation See! here's a real true honest-to-god Puerto Rican girl and she'sin college Heyl Mary come here and look she'sfrom right here a South Bronx girl and she'shonest-to-godrn r,r'howould believed it Ain't college now Ain't that something sciencewonderful or sorne such thing a wonder a wonder And someonewho did languages a living stopped me in the subfor I mean there it was way becausehow I spoke was a linguist'streat yiddish and spanisl-rand fine refined college educated english and I haven't It's dusty now irishwhich I mainly keep in my prayers said my prayers in decadesbut try rny Hail Marrrry full of grrrace its all true and its all with the nun's burr with the nun's disdain nre do you know I got an English accent from the BBC I always say For years in the mountains of Puerto Rico when I was22 and24 and 26 all those young years I listened to the BBC and Radio Moscow's English english announcers announce and denounce and then I read Dickens all the way thru three or four times at least and then later I read Dickens aioud in voicesand when I came back to the U.S. I spokemockdickens and mockBritish especiallywhen I rvant to be crisp efficient I know what I am doing and you can't scarerre tough that'swhy I am what I am and I'm a bit of a snob too Shit! why am I calling rlyself names I really really dig the funny way the British speak and it's real it's true and I love too the singing of yiddish sentencesthat go with sirrugs and hands and arms doing

sound and look of yiddisli in I love tl-re nrelancholyor livell'clatlces . ir.rtl-restreets in the English language in tlle boclf i^fr"'rt. so go by the grocer ancl bu'v some fruit so u'hat's tlert' nooo oh and ti"toscu'ords raisele gevalt gcfilte fish thc l "iJ""", d r e d so t t h e n r t t o t t i ' ' ' gt h e e n g l i s h l a n g u a g e i k e r a i s i n s ' , i n htrn tush schn-rata all thosc scl-'leriiiel tuttiX shnook ar.'cl b;;; I an'rrvhat I arn and I'rr sharp things sl'rarp sottnds'o1'".tg soft srveet ioreign anclnelv but Jewish t"u'p i' lertirn-a'tt!'icu" naturalizecl its schmatafarniliar arrdits r'redcars fa.iliar is ord sr.r.,,v Americar.r Thke it or leave me I am I anr rvliett bagelsblintzesanclall ltle alone.

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Dreams of Violence
Naomi Littlebeor
I was awakened by the sound of school children screamingat each other. I thought I heard them beating some one. Loud solid thun-rps quivered in my ears,a hoarsevoice, horribly chanting in rapid succession, "oh my god, oh my god". . . I closed my eyes and sunk into the panic that terrorized my morning. I fiew back in time, somewhere in grade school, walking home with my cousin Virginia. . . I There was an unmistakeable bitter taste in the air around us, forewarning. It was the moment before the actual sight of thern coming that froze our heartswith fear. Suddenly like a stampedeof wild bulls they plumrneted towards us. A half dozen or more boys, a frenzied blur of leatherjackets, screamingwild devils, thrashing at us with the harsh stiff leather, metal teeth zippers battering our bewildered bodies. We ran on rubber band legs; I could hear Virginia calling, "Mama, Mama." In my ears was a sound like the beating of wings, barbed wings that stung rny skin, that made my lip swell in pain, we ran hard thru the obstaclecourse of confusedbodies, their horrifying shrieks of rage thru the rain of leather. By some miracle they scattered,the same force that brought them seemedto snatch them up again and they were scatteredto other dark corners of the barrio. My facewas hot and swollen, i felt my tearsburning rivers down my cheeks.I could still hear Virginia crying for her mother, though now she was just a mass of pain & crying. I could remember my own silence thundering thru my body. As we neared home, my fear increased.I knew what would await me there. I could close my eyes and see the vision a hundred times over. I would siowly approach the door and before my entire body entered, she could smell the mischief, sensethe energy- my grandmother immediately stopped whatever she was doing and demanded a fuil story. But always my story would be cut in mid-sentence. Becausewhatever state i was in, i orovoked it.

been {ighting?""Did you tear your "Why are you Dirty?" "Have you demands and accusationscame threatenar*rZll-u ,rott"y of quick her come towards me' r" -", -uttir'g *" i""f scared'watching "her bonito" as where the razor strap hung "rit reaching over to tn" aoo' to me, strap rn hand. My feet turning she called it. Reachingtowards backing into a corner' Iead. Trying to run au'ay' II me' a vicious pinch could' I fiew But where the strap couldn't reach more leather stings' thru the door being chasedby red criss blocks away, my skin boiling' I ran far, sometlnes two cried that the leather jackets had-made'.I crossesatop the cars thru my "'uttlt"' the shapesoi people and alorrebarery able to make out tears.

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beside me' wondering how I am awake now, my lover still sleeping to mend the holes in our pasts' we can blend our two worlds' How walk away bravely from the nightnares' . within the falseshelter of her Her attacks*"'" ^o" "tUtt"iniaa"n her' her brother was the nighthome; insteadof gutg' olloys chasing U"oayto masturbate with' as she ;"";;;;g-child ly intrusion, "ri"g numb and scaredto speak' closed her eyes too survir"ors though the fears are still We both have no t;;i;; but to be men' my heart tt^Ot there. Whenever I see a crowd of ::':-I^l::l crashing' anger' male nolses' whenever i hear sudden noises'sudden to ears l shrink inside' walk close their very laughter o uUtuti"" to my hide' place to the walls of my soul, i look for a

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Chry'sto's irr tlatrqcr We are both a t l c i e n tI e a r ^{ r'our t t rf i s ho . r r r ) ' ( ) \ t r r ilJutn"a

s t o p p e c l r . . . . . i , , . rr , \ \ \ ' L ' a y e n e [ \ lLrarlllll{ t() \ Now l'rr-r

He Saw
Chrystos
his roots/went back to the reservation old pain/old hunger None of the ghostsrvere there caught He went fisl-ring one or rnore ever)' t<> The fishing is n'irat he r-reeded do day a f t e r y e a r so f s u i t s ,t i c s ' c l o c k s G a t h e r i n gw i l d r i c e , r e r n e n r b e r e d adjustments what he began & left He lvrites me abottt tl'refisl-r I grovl' hungry advantages He gave rne all the lr,l'ritest squarc house, football school, r'vhitemother baking I,vhitebread in a u,hite ovelt to He r,r.anted spare r-nehis pairr didn't shred rage clouds our blood ties Silently our nrisunderstandings wonder u'ho i.reis I stare at his words nitre Lonely recldaddy cradling ghost of his natna died u'hen he r'r'as rt'ithout a father lt'ithout straightiacke-ts pretending he u'as borr.r Daddy you r,r.rite in a painfully practiced scra'uvl a learned learned beaien dor'r,n dying fish you leanrt-d You go back & can't stav Bring me a sack of rice $'arlt the boy lt'ho left ol.ra freight car I war-rtyonr r,r'ildness, I n'ant a boy rvl'rocried becausehis rrrotheris clead & his daddy's gone crazy I r.t'anithe one u'ho gathered lvater & r'r'ood I don't l,"ant this t'ttanrvho cut off ilis hair joined the governnrent to be safc