Fall 2010

representing latinos and latino culture through prose, poetry, nonfiction,and visual art

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PROSE & POETRY

2 Morir sonando,Jose Rodriguez'12 4 Silencios,Juan Ruiz Toro'12 6 Todo te lo diera, Rocio Bravo '11 GS 8 El balcon de mi alma, Daniella Ponce '13 12 Play Me In Reverse, Nicole Parrish '12 14 Untitled, Emily Gonzalez'13 18 A Minha decisao,Ana Almeida'12 19 Sexual Tension,Ayoosh Pareek'12 21 Acuestase.mi reina, Andrea McWilliams '12 22 Las hermanas desilusion y alegria, Esther Escotto 24 El cumpleanos, CrystalVance '11 27 El tianguis, Crystal Vance'11 28 Peer Edit, David Romero '14 30 Unidos contra o deus.Geraldo Dutra '11

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

5 Como te extraho corazon.Juan Carranza '12 7 Dad, David Hernandez'11 9 Boring.Whatever. Let's go play x-box., Kate Carlisle 10 Cape Cod, Angel Mojarro'11 11 BSAThunderbold,Angel Mojarro'11 13 Huerfano Valley, CO,Angel Mojarro '11 16 Brown Gendo Taiko, Angel Mojarro '11 20 Matthew 5:14, Emily Gonzalez'13 23 Zebra Watermelon, Kimberly Arredondo '11 25 Our Rain, Not Yours-A socioeconomic Endemic, Kate Carlisle 26 Mary at the Portuguese Market, Michelle Jolliffe '12 29 Read My Eyes, Kate Carlisle 31 Hueco Tanks, Kimberly Arredondo'11

MORIRSONANDO

I met Mario during the blizzard that paralyzed New York. A bath of snow came down on the city; the flakes covered the whole landscape. Each flake held what we called the "newcomer disease," the crisis in confidence that could break down and reshape identities. When the snow fell, we Dominicans were especially at risk-this weather was foreign and unaccommodating. City-dwellers lack the option of skiing, and making a snowman was beyond our age. We thought we were too "cool"for those things anyway.

Mario befriended me througha mutual friend,Maicol Moreno.Mario had just arrived; he had never seen the flakes. The day of the blizzard,Maicol and I made our usual stop at Pablo's Grocery Store, bringing Mario along. Maicoland I grabbed two Powerades,anticipating our inevitable thirst during the upcoming basketball game. Mario,went for a morir sonando (a mixture of milk and orange juice), which,literally translates to: to die while dreaming."Mario went aheadof us,asking Pablo if he could buyon credit,a typical practicein the Dominican Republic.

Pablo responded warmly,"Mi hijo aqui no se vende asi."

Maicolwhispered,"Did Pablo actuallyjust callMario son?"

Yes," I responded.The sign over the counter read,

Today we don't sell on credit, perhaps tomorrow.

"Maicol,"I pointed tothe sign,"it's inEnglish.Mario did not understand it."

We paid for Mario and left the store, making a path through the six inches of accumulated snow that waited outside.While we walked,Mario drank his morir sohando. The weather was so cold that it cut our skin, but Mario walkedin defianceof thewind,his jacket unbuttoned,as if he were superior to the cold. Our shoveling job was goingto bea challenge,so we decided to pass through a friend's house to borrow three shovels.

The basketball court wassubmerged in soft white snow. It seemed that clearing it would be a simple task. We divided the court into three sections. Maicol and I gave Mario the easiest section. As Mario began to shovel,he cleared the top layer without much trouble. Maicol and I had troublesome sections filled with rough ice and we observed in envy how painless Mario's task was.

Mario drank his morir sohando, the precious liquid that reminded him of home and gave him strength. As Mario drank the last drop, his section of the court revealed a layer of hard ice. Mario dug at it for an hour. With each minute came a change of expression, a change of posture, and a change in the way he held the shovel. At first, Mario had held the shovel with

strength,firmness, and determination.As the time and struggle progressed, he held it with weakness,his authority challenged by the ice. Finally, Mario dropped the shovel.The ice was consuming his handswith frost bite. He slumped, head down, hands in his pockets. These were all symptoms of the "newcomer disease," and we witnessed Mario's surrender to it.

We didnot playthe game.Maicoland I had cleared our side, but Mario had given up, infected by the disease that was brought by the snow. It challenged his drive, corrupted his will, and contained his strength. We all walked home differently after our experiences on the basketball court that day. Maicol stepped with confidence on the ground; I walked with disappointment, unhappy with the day's events. But Mario sauntered, thug-like, down the street. It was the effect of the disease: he had to compensate for his earlier failure,frustration,and embarrassment.

Dominicans move to our neighborhood with confidence, character, and values; but the disease can change them. Some survive, others are immune, but some surrender to it entirely. It erases their will,their drive.It fillsthem with embarrassment and frustration. It turns them into a stereotype of machismo. That day, the disease had become visible in Mario the moment that he had zipped up his coat.

SILENCIOS

Mi amoryyo hemos sido enLoquecidos por La distancia del tiempo ydel espacio, por La soledad humana, por la ausencia de nuestro amor. Hemos sido enLoquecidos por la Lluvia que se supone nos ha Lavado Los pecados que nos dejaron casi muertos acurrullados contra una pared, ensordecidos por el silencio.

TODO TE LO DIERA

Si pudiera, borrarfa esas lagrimasyte regalan'a una sonrisa aliviarfa tus penas e hiciera realidad tussuenos eliminarfa ese dolor y te darfa solo felicidad si yo pudiera.

Si pudiera,te evitarfa sentir tristezas secarfa la lluvia y alumbraria tus dfas de luz borrarfa las nubes yte acercarfa las estrellas si yo pudiera.

Si pudiera, quitarfa de tus pensamientos la desilusion cambiarfa la duda en tu mente porfortaleza y reemplazarfa esas cicatrices con medallas de honor si yo pudiera.

Si por mi fuera nunca supieras lo que es la soledad nunca sabrfas lo que es llorar ni entenderfas lo que esfracasar.

Si por mf fuera,tu camino nunca se desviarfa tu corazon nunca se quebrarfa y tu fe jamasse desvanecerfa.

EL BALCON DE MI ALMA

Fue la caida del muroal final de la frontera, Si'.esos fueron tus besos.

Fueron las olas del mar sobre mi piel, sobre elcuerpo que te siente llegar.yquete anhela antesde despertar.

Si, esas fueron tus caricias. Fueron las acciones que mueven montanas para llegar a la cumbre, Sin saber que la cima no es un lugar, Sino un estado; un estado Esperando interpretacion, Respirando furor, Anhelando compresion. Si.asi me has entregado tu amor. Fueron las risas de unos ninos jugando, Si,esas son las miradas de una pareja coqueteando. Fueron todas las barreras derrumbadas, Si, esas son las demostraciones de la construccion de nuestro amor.

Son, la base de una obra.y elfruto de una union, Las columnas de una diosa vindicada portu amor, Y Seran la estampa en la sombra del sol, Cuando volvamosa creer y de nuevo arder de amor.

PLAY ME IN REVERSE

We skirted around wet asphalt, the sound of rain a symphony pounding final cadences on the windshield and the skipping fins of ice-sharp rainfall emerging from under our tires. The world was silenced save for the slow crescendo of God's magnum opus Symphony in the key of the Rainy Midwest. Adrenaline put the video screen outside our window on mute. Cue slow motion skidding. We flew,and when the cosmos decided to take the remote control of our lives and turn up thevolume just in time, we could hearthe explosion, and the windshield rain sliced through our clothes. It was a rainy Midwestern day in the ditch. The news reporter would gloss over the event, mentioning a couple of undesirables, but focusing mainly on the weather it wasa rainy day in the Midwest that morning. Play me in reverse and it might be true. The ground was raising watery hell, and we two undesirables were chasing down good, upstanding citizens because that's just what young inner-city kids do something in the geneticmakeup of those coloured kids' gave us a predisposition to invade the lives of the more civilised' people.

Play me in reverse, so take becomes give and we let go of the generosityof the State, managed to go hungrydespite the magnanimity.

Play it all backwards so kill becomes Llik/Lick up a plate full of food and mis primos are finally gaining some weight. So please, play me in reverse like maybe we might have been born on the street, equipped by old age and grow younger in the comfort of our homr grow down to better days. Play me in reverse so falling becomes flying and no matter the direction we'll still be in the racecar; the road ocean ahead of us leaping into the air so we could pass by safely. Play me in reverse and see how my body pours forth crystalfragments like pieces of my soul in worship,creating windshield barriers; and send me up into the clouds so undesirable becomes untouchable; then play the tape again and see It was a sunny day in the Midwest thatmorn

BlJH 1

UNTITLED

by emily gonzalez'13

I never liked feet.

10 midget fingersattached to two elongated palms.

I use them so much Bagging them inside my desperately seekingFebreeze pair of chucks

My first pair, Owned as a symbol Of the beginning of myrebellion Exiting my yellow-walled,Hello Kitty overpopulated.Tweety-infested nursery, Standing outside my own gate, Outstretched hands, Waving goodbye.

I walked. Hesitantly. I arose to face a new set of gates. Feeling a bit like one of those Telemundo novelas where the pretty rubia Who looks nothing like me turns to the camera and Gasps.

The thoughts slide through my mind. Stuck between the thoughts That Ileft my home behind My tracks appear in the dust, The plume of the garbage smoke Burning a few blocks from my hood. Nothing good comes out of here.

"Sigue andando el camino por toda su vida."

Respira.

I wouldlike to know that Iam solid. Segura.

To me everything crosses each other's path in the universeand flows

All the paths are written outto me

And I have to tryto figure out what it allmeans.

Independently.

I wouldlike to know that Iam enduring. To know that my path in life

Cannot be swept up like onions peels for the sazon. Stinging my eyes at the start but soon Forgotten.

Like my Language. When I talk to Mami on the phone. Talking like "Si, estoy fine y you?"

Like my history Unaware of those Who stood behind metaL gates so that I could pass through these.

would like to know that I am distinguished I say I behave no prouder that the status I establish my own self outwardly.

"My name is Emily. I belong here." The first to go, I walk for my mom who can't, But who uses her hands to push me along.

Memories fill my past. Define my present. Inspire my future.

Sonrisas shape the crease of my cheeks, the ones Papi pinches the moment I open the red minivan he bought for 50 bucks.

Emanating from the bounce of my cafe stained corkscrews. Grazing my /ecfteskin. Desiring, but fearful of losing my step, I make a conscious decision to walk.

Dropping azucar as pass so I won't forget. So that as I go I leave a path of sweetness Not dust.

My foothold here is tenon'd and secure In the ripples on the floor as stomp,and glide to my plena,twirl to the ballad of my salsa.-"Azucar\"

A MINHA DECISAO

Eu nao sei o quefazer Estou ficando doida Cada dia que passa sinto-me morrendo mais Nao sei o que fazer 0 mundo esta desabando em cima da minha cabega Boom, boom

Sera que vou morrer? Sera que vou poder? Desistir nao e uma opcao Nao posso voltar atras Terei perdao de Deus?

Quern nao acredita em Deus nao precisa do seu perdao Mas quern nao acredita de verdade?

Eu gostaria de acreditar Gostaria de sonhar De querer De voar De dangar De brincar

Eu gostaria de olhar para frente e continuar Porque voltar atras nao e uma opgao Ficar no meio e incertidao.

Ir para frente e a minha decisao.

SEXUAL TENSION

I told her we were too far, to be in love.

I'm sure I breathe out in the direction that would carry my scent to Providence, She says.

Walking down her patio, I can't help but give my feet a mean stare to slow down In the smells of sundried tomato wraps filled with scrambled eggs and guacamole.

You and are like the yolk and the white. We flow with fluidity inside the shell, But when things come to a boil, We can't help but separate.

ACUESTASE, MI REINA

Her love is not like a rose. In fact,her love can challenge any rose's beauty, andwin. A love so generous, It could make Madre Teresa's life seem selfish.

Her strongest desire was to walk out of her 10-hour waitressing shift, So she could be home with my sisters and me. I know that now.

When Ithink back to Life in our small two bedroom apartment, I think of thenights she lay down next to me. When it was timeto go mimis, She'd attempt to forget the struggles of her Life, If only fora night.

She'd gently run her fingers through my hair and say, 'Acuestase, mi reina," As if she wished she could give me more. Perhaps a king-sized bed fit for a queen, Rather than the twin-sized bedwe shared But with those words,she gave me comfort. She gave me her self-less love. And I realized, That's allI have ever needed.

LAS HERMANAS DESILUSION Y ALEGRIA

by esther escotto Pi-cv^ • - 4 •!

Dicen que en el cinturon deL cuerpo humano se cargan las altas y las bajas de la vida iLas altas y las bajas, que sera eso?

Bueno.empieza por los intestinos que estan dentro de tu cintura ELLos llevan las alegrias y Los sufrimientos

Alii se disminuye todo o se crea otra cosa

Alii sube para arriba o baja para abajo todo; todos tus sentimientos, remordimientos,sufrimientos, hasta La desilusion

dNadie tiene una desilusion completa alfin de ese proceso?

No, la desilusion no es completa

Te puede llevar por caminos no pensados

Te puede girar a otras decisiones

Te puede instalar otros pensamientos en tu mente y corazon

La desilusion te da el poder, el querer, la determinacion, el li'mite final, la otra oportunidad de hacer o deshacer lo que sea

La desilusion no conoce lo bueno ni lo malo.a hombre ni a mujer, nino o nina. Mas bien, no Le interesa.

Su papel no tiene barreras.

Te la describo detalladamente para que la vayas conociendo.

dY que de la alegria?

Bueno,ella si que es completa, pero ella se queda por momentos, por ratos.por epoca y aun tiene sus altas y bajas

La alegria es coqueta.a veces enganadora y de vez en cuando loca tambien. Es poderosa porque sana.y muchisimas veces, salva. Sf.salva a uno de la depre.de las quejas.de un disgusto, Nos libera de la tristeza.y nos ayuda a olvidarnos de nuestros sufrimientos, calores insoportables yfrios desagradables

Asi es eLla> la fieL am'ga.a^gre senora, que no descansa y nunca, nunca se queda en su casa.

No se sabe quien Llega primero si la desilusion o La alegria dNo te das cuenta que les gusta la competencia?

qinn' ^ t[jS^za y La ale9ria Weguen a tu casa.aunque les quieras serrar la puerta.no Loh; Al desDedirte ripple 0 S3rva as bien para ^ue Puedas conocer quien es quien y entiendas por que dan

EL CUMPLEANOS

by crystal vance '11

...Dale dale dale, no pierdas el tiro, porque si lo pierdes, pierdes el camino...

El giierito esta en el centro. Arriba de el cuelga una pinata. Tiene un palo tan largo como es alto. Alrededor las ninas y ninos fijan su mirada en el, ansiosos por estar en su lugar. La cumpleanera se pierde mirando la pinata. Le parece una estrella fugaz y le pide un deseo. Cumple siete anos y ya se siente grande.fuerte. Ve la pinata y se imagina un paraiso adentro: dulces y juguetes para todos y talvez hasta un pajaro. Eso es lo que queria en verdad, un pajaro rojo y lo imagina salir volando de la pinata.

£ltiene sus ojos tapadoscon un paliacateazul. En realidad no es tan chico, pero es el consentido o mas bien el griton,pensaba la nina. Empieza su ataque sin haber dado vueltas (no sedejo) pero nadie le dice nada. No se espera a escuchar la pinata,no como las ninas y ninos que se paran pacientemente tratando de ubicar el crujir del papel en la obscuridad. Arroja golpe tras golpe confiando en su fuerza a pesar de su ceguera. La nina lo ve con ojos grandes y piensa en su pobre pajarito. ^Saldra vivo?

...Ya le diste uno, ya le diste dos, ya le diste tres y tu tiempo se acabo...

Pero el nino no para. 'Duro, duro mijo" le dice su papa, su voz alzandose sobre las quejas de los otros. La esperanza de tener un turno desvanece con cada palotazo.

"Mami,,;por que no para?"

"Hay que ser paciente chiquita, hay que esperar."

"Pero si es mi turno y ademas mi cumpleanos."

"Paciencia.es un invitado.hay que ser cortes."

£l nunca deja a nadie mas intentar y lo sabes."

"Tal vez esta vez si..."

La pinata ya no parece una estrella pero todavia

permanece la esfera de baro intacta. Solo se escucha como agita lo de adentro con los golpes. Si no rompe la pinata va a romper todo lo de adentro intentando, piensa la nina, una de los dos, asi siempre pasa. Pero esta vez no. Alza su voz y le dice alnino: "Ya se acabo tu turno."

El nino no la escucha o la ignora. "jYa se acabo tu turno!"

El padre del nino amenaza a la madre con sumirada. Ella intenta calmar a su hija pero los otros ninos y ninas empiezan a aplaudir y gritar tambien. "jDeja de golpear!""jTambien nos toca a nosotros!""jSiempre destruyes todo!""jNo es todo para ti!""jYo si puedo!"

Gritan pero no se acercan. El todavia tieneel palo y lo sigue usando. La nina mira hacia arriba y le pide a su abuela y abuelo que alcen la cuerda. Ellosvena los ninos y ninas descontentos y desesperados y laalzan. EL nino no sabe porque ya no encuentra la pina'j. Sigue con sus ojos tapados, buscando con golpes a pinata. Da vueltas yvueltas perono la encuentra. Frustrado,se quita el paliacate. Los ojos de las otras nina: y ninos lo rodean.Ve la pinata colgando arriba deeL habia sido vencido. No podia taparse los ojos otravei no podia fingir no escuchar o defenderse con no saber Su turno se acabo.

La nina se acerca y toma el palo de sus manes El nino resiste, pero los ojos de Los otros lo obligan a soltarlo y a que se saiga del centro. El papa Lotomace los hombros y salen de la casa azotando la puerta. U abueLa y elabuelo bajan la pinata y con un movimient. la nina parte la pinata en dos. Los duLces y juguetecaen brillando a su alrededor. Todos esperan hastac.: se vacie. Lo ultimo que sale es un silbato rojo enfo^ de un pajaro. La nina lo recoge y sopla.

ELTIANGUIS

Era la manana. El se habi'a levantado como siempre a as cuatro para leer. Se desesperaba de dormir Laenddopedia de Mexico era su libro preferido para atenuar las noches largas. La tiene frente de Sjsca suapellido: Guerra. No existe guerra en si, soloen relacion:GUERRA CIVIL, GUERRA DE CASTAS, GUERRADE EAAMEXICO...

k volvio a dormir, pensando a que se refiere su aoeiiido.Tienedos hijos;ambos estandel otro Lado:uno enelnorteyel otroen el cielo. Ningunoes papa. <;Que pasaracon sunombre, Guerra? ,;Desaparecera o solo seperdera?

Selevanta a prepararel jugo de naranja. Es mas por :ostumbrequeporgusto. Pero se volvio costumbre por sJSto,oesocree,ysigue exprimiendo mitades. Llena :resvasos. Madre,hija y el viejo canijo"y se rie de sus sropiaspalabras.

h^evosa la mexicana hechos con demasiado aceite y al Siempre sepasa desde que los doctores Le dijeron 3uesecuidara.Baja su esposa y ve el desayuno. "^Que, oaprendes?" Yempieza a calentar tortillas.

*" aceip su hiJa a la mesa. Ya es mujer, nunca se ^'ra como tu padre hizo el desayuno otra - La hija nodice nada.Sabe que ella esta frustrada --.3 mismo.delode siempre. "Pues ya, asi lo hice y ya echo. Siquieres algo diferente, hazlo tu."

de COmer y el se va a la sala. Prende la R /e Part'do. 0-1. Eltiempo corre pero el 3aballeros°-haCe' 01 ^ S£ aC3b° ^ partido damas Y eshora Papa.vamorios."

* sabe ranguis;sorpresa semanalgarantizada. Nunca ~:-ndo dif0n S6 Va troPezar> cac)a puesto es un Snte de , erente' ^etiene el carrito del mandado en " - ^verdurasy se apoya en el. Pide todo de

memoria. olvidado. 7Y flor de calabaza?" Ah, si, se le habi'a

Jala el carrito lleno de hierbas y verduras. "Deja eso alii papa.yo lo hago." Cuatro infartos y ya no le dejan hacer nada sin miedo. <<Para que sirven los viejos entonces? Piensa de su victoria sobre la muerte...

El diablo no estaba.

Pero sabeque la victoria no es mas que una advertencia.

{Que va estar? si no fue su tiempo.

Pero pronto lo sera,se contesta.

Siempre dice "hay que chingarle en la vida," para asegurarse que eltiempo no quede en el olvido. Nada es para siempre. El hacer es La unica manera de ser.de vivir. "Necio" Le dice su hija.

Camina con el carrito ya pesado con mandado. Ve los elotes brotando, el brillo de Los chiles secos; huele el acido-dulce del tamarindo, el musgo del huitlacoche. Siente como sus pies se despegan del suelo y escucha musica en la distancia...rayando el sol, me despedL. Sus sentidos se mezclan con el calor y su mareo Lo hace sentir ligero. Mira hacia arriba y sonde. ALcanza ver las nubes por los huecos de los hules colorados, respira...

Gritos.

"jSenor, senorUEsta bien?" No los escucha. "jPapa!, jpapa!" Tal vez esta sonando. Dos jovenes lo levantan. La gente aLrededor no lo ven y siguen su camino. Abrazandolo, colgando un brazo en cada hombro,cabeza inclinada, Losacan del caos.

Lo unico cierto en La vida es la muerte,decia. El tiempo tiene su tiempo. Hay que vivir.

PEER EDIT

"You know how you're awkward and strange with people and everyone thinks you're weird? That's what I think she's kind of Like too."

I couldn't have disagreed more... with the second part; I was conscious of my awkwardness. This girl in front of me, my shamelessly honest neighbor and occasional confidant-summed me up spot on, evaluated me, in the ruthless way that only she could. I had learned to take such criticism with gritted teeth; it bugged me, but I wanted her help in this matter of the heart.My neighbor would tell me how to get my crush to notice me,evenif itmeant swallowing the bitter pill of her cruel yet well-meaning honesty.

"You should just go for it! This is college! Try new things; you can do it!"

Ugh. I groaned. The girl in question, the one my blunt neighbor and I were talking about, was tailormade to make me fancy her: sweet voiced, un-pretentious, self-aware (but not awkward as my neighbor suggested, perhaps to make me think that I have a chance with said girl), studious, goofy, intelligent, and not Mexican-American. I wasn't sure how that last one influenced my feelings for her. She was White and studying Russian,not the ideal language and ethnicity combo that I had in mind. But even though my Ideal Girl spoke Spanish and had the same skintone as me,I never really talked about my heritage or about any sort of struggle of ethnic identity with anyone; I just knew

that her not being Latina.or Chicana or whatever didn't make me feel any lessfor her.

Admittedly I had had fantasies ofmarrying a Mexican-American chica,of my wife and I getting married in Yucatan or Durango or Jalisco, or Oaxaca or Chihuahua, celebrating the way Mexicans do,whatever that means. Of her speaking to Mom (MAH-um,as I called herina sort of made up Spanglishpronunciation) in thatbeautiful language without hesitation and redeeming my own hestitant speech and grammatical ignorance ofel sustantivo,of having Spanish Saturdays wherelittle David Jr.(or Juan or Ocatvio, if we were bold) would learn ElHimno Nacionalright beforewatching ElPartido.Asl awkwardly sat in my neighbor's dorm complainingthai I just couldn't make the first move and that I would surely make a fool of myself,I only knew one thingfor sure.

I just knew I hadn't felt this way in a long time: only academic essays had kept me up at night so fa, not thoughts about girls.

I thought of the color brown,not like the color: my school but of my skin, a color that was differen: much darker than hers.

"Tell me you'll go for it; you have to now tha. you've told me allof this!Take a risk! Man up andgrow some balls."

I promise to at least try...Lo prometo.

UNIDOS CONTRA O DEUS

0 primeiro passo para o inferno e a criagao de um deus. Com o poder que Lhe e dado pelo consenso sobre sua onipotencia, o recem-denominado deus cria. Cria luz, cria casas, cria bolsas. E assim, de obra em obra, o deus aumenta seu status.

E na cabega de Fabiano, cuja Vida passa a ser menos Seca por causa das obras, deus se torna cada vez mais deus.Sua logica e indutiva, porque na sua situagao, ele ve nao com os olhos, mas com a barriga. Ouem lhe enche a barriga e o seu deus.

0 problema nao sao as obras do novo deus, mas sim que lhe sao atribuidas. As obras sao necessarias, pois como sociedade decidimos que nao queremos que Baleia morra de fome, nao queremos que A Hora Da Estrela de Macabeia seja causada por sua morte. 0 problema e que esse deus, o deus que cria, utiliza de poderes que lhe sao concedidos para seu proprio espolio, politico ou economico. ELe diz que tern monopolio sobre as bolsas, que so ele as tern, quer e as pode distribuir.A substancia da bolsa, no entanto, nao e dele,nao vem dele. ELe ganha fama a custo nosso.

Cada vez mais famoso, deus vai criando, criando, criando. Ao mesmo tempo, o deus vai semeando discordia, usando seus Soldados AmareLos para jogar Fabiano contra tudo e todos. E assim, o deus cria o mundo que ele antes de virar deus acreditava que existia: um mundo em que classes se confrontam, onde a uniao nao existe. O deus.enfim, nos leva a um inferno.

obrigaqao e comegar a sair deste inferno, o primeiro passo sendo a reconstrugao do nosso conceito de deus. 0 verdadeiro Deus, nao deve ser um ser fisico, concrete. 0 verdadeiro Deus, esta na forca da uniao, na multiplicagao da Fe.Quando um ou mais estiverem reunidos em torno de um objetivo, Deusestara P Este objetivo ja existe e e de criar um futuro melhor, mais digno,e mais

0 Brasil e melhor que isso.e unido pode mais.

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS

SOMOS Latino Literary Magazine was established in the 1990s by a group of students who, like us, shared the vision of creating a medium that would bridge the gaps between communities that share Latino experiences. Unfortunately, for a short time, SOMOS was discontinued,but it was revived six years ago and has since endeavored to give voice to the Latino population at Brown and in Providence.

Nicole Parrish gives an account of a car accident in the "Rainy Midwest," using language of music and remote control to communicate the power of a situation and its telling.

"El cumpleanos," a short story by Crystal Vance, tells of a young girl who is frustrated to no end by "el guerito [que] estd en el centro] the littleboy who won't stop hitting her pinata.

Rocio Bravo writes of all that she would do to make things right if only she could. The haunting repetition of "si pudiera" in "Todo te lo diem" emphasizes the disempowerment of a situation in which you would,if onlyyou could.

In Morir Sonondo," Jose Rodriguez mourns the newcomer disease" that paralyzes recent Dominican immigrants. He symbolizes this "disease" through snow-the snow that holds "the crisis in confidence that could break down and reshape identities."

The range of art submissions from photography o graphite drawings to watercolor to pastel offer exciting re-imaginings of common subjects. David Hernandez paints his father in a watercolor with a vision "p iT^ °f C0L°rS that produces a surreal vision. Emily Gonzalez draws the Virgen deGuadalupe with a votive candle, creating the illuminating glow of the candle and the virgin herself, with different rokes and effects. The beauty of this semester's ubm.ssionslies'ntheunconventi^ai^p^e^ation of these and other subjects.

We are delighted and honored to present this semester's issue of SOMOS.