[NEW PAMILYA TO SUPPORT]
doreen kramer (b.y.o.b. yoga)
believes that the reality of social justice is
manifested through the holistic health

imi rashid: accountant
serving people who create social justice
activism and anti-oppression work

[aug. 29, 2008]
things soon:
-9/5: rivers of honey feature.
-9/15: my born day!
-9/21: naascon / sulu feature.
-9/24: beloved's born day!
-10/9: dyke-mic chicago feature.
-10/11: equilibrium project @ the loft.

is the summer really sneaking around?
where has she disappeared to?
can i eat enough cobbler to fill me all winter?
should i make preserves right before harvest?
have i sent in my press kits?

i'm already layering clothes, ready to
buckle down and re-fashion myself
in relation to the heat. my scarves are
eager, knowing i check them out from the
corner of my eye. i've been unpacking more
boxes, separating piles for storage, for
keeps, for cleaning up. the best is when
i find a photo of myself as a small thing.
maybe my dad has propped me up against
a 80's plaid couch in a trailer in the
midwest and you can see my body tilt
like the side of a mountain. another
shows me stuffing raspberries in
my face, my hands in a less jovial
world look a bloody mess. my ma is
laughing in her summer dress, trying to
clean me up and behind her, all the
trees in full green-- exuberant and full.

currently, people are having babies. like
my friend bea for instance. congratulations
to her, her journey with her child who is
all brand new and handsome/beautiful
as a seedling, already with a frohawk,
already making demands in his basic
rights--food, sleep, shelter....we all know
how much i love the babies.

and now some thing older, yes? yes:
things that i wrote/scribbled 4 years ago:
(july 24, 2004)
today i took the kimball bus and
before that, walked three blocks.
the ankle became a football or softball
sized(take your pick) swelling. but
i did manage to count the patriotic
u.s. flags on the house on belmont and
kimball. there are 18 total cascaded
with bumper stickers, flags, ribbons.
oh you have only 16 on your house?
terrorist.

(july 26, 2004)
story:
a filipino queer acquaintance of mine
was beaten up in boystown by another
queer person who was white. the police
arrived and questioned the perpetraitor's
friend who was a witness, but did not
document the statement from my friend whose
leg was swollen and bleeding... that
is until he called the police from the
hospital and the same cops arrived again.
along with the halsted 3, i am wondering
how police brutality, racism & queer hate
persists unrecognized and without
law enforcement accountability.

(august 10, 2004)
writing was dangerous, like making
love the way you should.
-eduardo galeano.

(august 24, 2004)
rhoda says to john (age 3) in a
motherly cooing:
oh look, you have new balance
shoes like your papa! they used
to be based in the U.S as unionized
workers & now they moved to exploit
in china!

---------------------------------------

[aug. 24, 2008]

awwwwww watch out now! i'm featuring
with many splendid and gifted queer
women & trans people of color at
Rivers of Honey. greet all the
virgo spirits with your applause.
we'd love it if you came out and kicked it!
on my end, expect some new pieces. i
will also be receiving cupcakes,
recipes, and any kinds of delights
for my upcoming born day. have a lovely
night y'all and a belated happy
jersey city pride!

---------------------------------------

[aug. 12, 2008]
hey fabulous peoples;
back from boston and reveling in my home
in jersey city. thanks to everyone at:
Queer Asian Pacific Alliance
QWOC+Boston
Truth Serum Productions

all your support and hard work were
a good welcoming and everyone had a dope
time! QWOC Week had a turn out that was
amazing and it was hopeful to see queers
of color stepping up, embracing our own
stories, and to see boston in a clearer
browner/blacker way.

i featured with dope people like the
good asian drivers during
this trip as well as letta neely, judah
dorington, and of course the fly ignacio
rivera.

the night was lit by some fierce songs
performed by judah, whose voice looked
wonderful in a genderqueer and drag body.
teddy p. sounded very bold, smooth,
and queer! who can ask for anything more?
i. mean. really.

the good asian drivers ripped it!
i am familiar with their work and though
this was the first time seeing them live,
i was happy to co-feature and share stage
with gifted queer/trans asians! what a concept.
i love the truth that music brings and when
you combine that with some fine slam poetry,
it is a very good time.

as we all know, ignacio rivera knows
how to shock and shake and engage a crowd.
with his sharp stylings and honest monologue,
the show was full of hungry faces in the crowd who
deserved more trans voice and luckily, got it with
excerpts from ignacio's previous production.

forgive the blurry:

the line up.

the lovely crowd @ middlesex!

ignacio tearin' it up!

the performers!

me & liz -- pin@y queers unite! jessica, kay, kit right after performance!

biba, kay, jessica: APIA social justice educators are awesome.

the night followed by a weird discussion with peoples
about dancecrews, shane sparks' homophobic
commentary and more on APIA women and queer's
depiction in the mainstream. this is all chugged
down with what else, but late night pizza.

also, part of my boston trip was brunch @ a
joint in dorchester that had tasty vegetarian
vietnamese food. however, there was some curious
coffee processes happening with mellisa li, as shown
here:



the day went into empty plates and happily
full bellies here:


and last aspects of my trip included dancing
dancing all over the place, my partner's late
night dropping by via super long roadtrip, and
also the open-mic at:


in a crowded room, steamy and packed with books,
some rapped, beatboxed, read from children's
books, and shared personal story. ed bok lee
was the feature and without a doubt, took
some breath away. there is something about craft
and the sheer elegance of language in his work
that i admire. so pleased to have seen him live.
it was like a long-awaited present after all
the work this week and this summer has demanded.
please see him online: edboklee.com

ahhhhhh, over all, a lovely trip to boston.
thanks to jessica's home & outright hospitality
that made this trip fun and welcoming. thanks
to amanda for dancing and hanging out, eating
pasta late into the the night. thanks to
QWOC+Boston for support. thanks to my lovely
partner & puppy for the road trip.

my closing thoughts:
white people step back! queers of color STEP UP!

*mighty all over,
k.

---------------------------------------

[aug. 2, 2008]
come by! we're gonna be off the chain,
so support please.



---------------------------------------

[july 26, 2008]
makers & growers;
the summertime has sent offerings that renew
me, build this community into change,
bringing joy big big stretches that make
the months of june & july rich and warm
in my heart! i am thankful for these:

- people via boston & chicago bringing kindness
and soul spirit real good via beach, sun, food,
love for my puppy.
- rebecca(my person) bringing east coast some
midwest comfort with baked goods, laughter,
old stories, well put together outfits.
- new recipes for collard greens, peach cobbler,
and in every way farmer's markets that make my
heart flutter.
- brunches that swell into testimony, limeade, the good
kind of gossip, and political upheaval.
- working on submissions for projects i am glad to
be a part.
- loving my partner deep.
- cornbread the puppy graduating from basic training
and well on z's way to becoming a therapy pet!

i'm headed to boston in beginning of august people for
QWOC+ Boston event and feature. those of you out
there, please give a shout and join QWOC+Boston for
their fly events.

*love all the way,
k.

---------------------------------------

[july 23, 2008]
hey beautiful peoples;
please read the below and circulate widely.
leah and cherry do amazing work and i am proud
to have worked with them during the 2007 mangos
w/ chili tour.

SUPPORT Queer People of Color Art!
Donate what you can and if send some good
intentions.

thanks for your time, friends. hope your
summers are swinging you spirit into
rejoice and collective ruckus.

*ever in love with summer,
k.

-----------------------
MANGOS WITH CHILI the floating cabaret of queer and trans POC bliss, dreams, sweat, sweets & nightmares “writing ourselves into history since 2006”

Dear Community Members, Lovers, Fighters and Friends,

Maybe you’ve seen us on a stage near you. Maybe we’ve shaken our asses next to yours on the dancefloor at Bibi or Butta. Maybe we’ve celebrated a birthday together, held each other through loss, laughed together in backstage dressing rooms, fed each other, or swapped resources. In short, we’re writing you because we consider you part of our larger family in the Bay Area and beyond. And although you may know us in one of these, or many of these capacities, we write to you today as the Co-Founders and Directors of Mangos With Chili.

Founded in 2006 by us, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha and Ms. Cherry Gallete, Mangos With Chili began as an annual touring cabaret of queer and trans people of color performance artists. Our breakout 2007 tour took 8 queer and trans performers of color to cities and stages throughout the Northeastern United States and Canada. With no core funding and mostly grassroots publicity, Mangos With Chili was a phenomenally successful tour. We raised our budget through grassroots fundraising and door revenue, and were able to pay artists a fair wage, in addition to covering all travel and housing costs. The show packed world class theaters, underground performance spaces, and campus halls, including Buddies in Bad Times Theatre in Toronto, C-Space in Cleveland, Swarthmore College, Cattyshack in New York, The Black Repertory Theater of Providence, Theatre Juste por Rire in Quebec, and more. Audiences everywhere thanked us for both the high caliber of work and the life-saving importance of the testimonies we shared through our art.

In our scant two years of existence, we’ve done incredibly well. In June 2009 we will present a powerhouse showcase of new performance by QTPOC artists in conjunction with SF Pride 2009, and will be presenting an event in collaboration with local organizations on queer immigration this fall. Our 2008 Queer Borderlands tour will take us down the California coast and across the Southwest from October 10-26. Featured artists will create new work addressing the themes of border transgression, migrations, deportations, relocation, displacement, legacy and the struggle to create new worlds. Our 2008 Mangos superstars are: Qwo-Li Driskill, Zuleikha Mahmood, Vixen Noir, Nar, Chica Boom, Tre Vasquez, Nico Dacumos, Ms. Cherry Gallete and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha.All are extraordinary artists and trailblazers in their own right with impressive work and credits to their names.

We write to you today because we need your support to continue thriving. This year we secured fiscal sponsorship through CounterPulse, an awesome performance space based in San Francisco. This means that we can now apply for grants as a 501(c)3 organization. Unfortunately our 2008 tour is soon approaching and we will not receive any funds until after the tour is complete. We need funds now to cover initial tour costs such as buying artists plane tickets to the Bay, renting a van, and paying for promo.

We’re reaching out to you because we know you believe in the power of art to save and transform lives, because you love and support queer and trans people of color in the arts, and because you understand the importance of community institutions. Community institutions like Kitchen Table Press, Aunt Lute Books, Bamboo Girl, Sister Vision Press, Audre Lorde Project- all of them profoundly saved and transformed QTPOC lives. They also were grassroots projects that inherently survived because of community support – because people in their supporting communities refused to not let them survive. We know some of you have a little. We know some of you may have a little more. We welcome whatever you have, from $5 to $50 to $500 to $5000 and more.

You can make your tax-deductible donation at:
http://www.counterpulse.org/donate.shtml.
Please enter “Mangos with Chili” in the Project Designation field. You may also mail checks made out to CounterPulse with “Mangos with Chili” in the Memo Line to:

Mangos with Chili c/o Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha 336 40th St., #4 Oakland CA 94609

In 2008 Mangos with Chili remains the nation’s only traveling cabaret of QTPOC artists. We have received positive media coverage from Bitch and Make/Shift magazines (making Bitch’s Summer 2008, “Bitchlist: Things We Love”) as well as in independent and campus media and raves from audience members for reflecting the lives and stories of queer and trans people of color. In the coming year Mangos with Chili is also working to establish itself as an Oakland based arts organization. In doing so we will create a home for queer and trans of color art in Oakland, create a cultural institution that gives QTPOC artists opportunities to create new work and reach new audiences, and inspire, nurture and support future generations of QTPOC artists, while celebrating the incredible presence, contributions, resiliency and survival of queer and trans people of color in Oakland.

We need your support to continue doing this work!!! Together, through community based arts we can speak out in response to the daily struggles around silence, homophobia and violence that QTPOC of all ages in all corners of the world face. Together we will write ourselves into history, and make sure the lives and stories of queer and trans people of color are documented, treasured and remembered. And together we can, and we will save and transform lives. Please contact us at mangos.with.chili@gmail.com with any questions, booking queries, requests for more info, or ideas about how you can help support our necessary work.

In love, lip gloss and revolution,
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha
Ms. Cherry Gallete

---------------------------------------

[june 29, 2008]
hey my peoples;
the week has been overflowing with queerness,
collective growth, and mainly taking in
my new home amidst the queer holidays.
i went to NYC Trans Day of Action for
Social and Economic Justice w/ a dope
person and also new east coast transplant, tj.
to see his work as it manifests or to
contribute see: brotheroutsider.org
look forward to photos and reflections soon!

in a brief rundown:
-it was nice to see old folx i've known from
back in the baby queer days and see that we
are still doing good work for ourselves &
our communities.
-it was fulfilling, spiritually & politically
to be around and centered by trans people
of color. it is something i have never
witnessed or contributed to in the midwest.
transness is very white as far as political
exposure and vision, so to see trans
women of color and immigrants doin' their
thang is something mighty for me.
-the speakers including imani henry and
people various organzations like fierce!
were powerful, complex, and excellent
nourish.
- yo props out to all my trans of color
fam in chicago..you know who you are!
i was carrying you with me.

alright homies, i'm going to give you
a more serious update with detailed
deliciousness soon. be safe as you
party and celebrate our brilliance and
over all fabulousness as LGBTQ community.

*in solidarity & ruckus,
k.

---------------------------------------


[june 18, 2008]
happy happy pride!
as in queer, as in trans, as in gay.

many thanks yous to SULU Series:
Asian Queer Spectacular for the
lovely people, poetry, music, and laughter.
it was homofied and fabulously reppin'
people of color.

summuh summuh time offerings:
1) i was accepted in this anthology:
Kicked Out Anthology

2) venus zine: reader of the week--kay barrett

also, a random act of cuteness:

me and a.joy's kid, cornbread siopao.
some of you are aware of this, but i believe
that my puppy looks like the of color
version of the luck dragon named "falkor"
from the film neverending story.
---------------------------------------


[may 4, 2008]
again with the tug of chicago, back
and forth. i have chosen pamilya here
who need little explanations for my quirks,
who sit well with scattered goals over
another tostada or another sigh of missing
someone i've lost. i can make my treaties
without words in these safer spaces. i can
be big here, be someone to be believed in
and not so lonely all the time.

17 days in chicago and my partner has
given countless reiki treatments. see her
website---allisonjoy reiki.

reciprocity fits her, wakes her up with
purposeful grins.

more later once i am back in jersey city.
back to airports and luggage dragging.
---------------------------------------


[march 28, 2008]

yo y’all;
a belated spring equinox to you
and women’s international day. thanks
again to columbia college and to all
of the people who came out to show love,
support, and dialogue afterwards.

things about chicago that make me swoon:
-tacos, any kind, any time. mexican food
don’t play in the chi-il.
-walking in the sun in humboldt park.
-mentors.
-warm walls in sarwat’s home.
-knowing exactly where to go.
-blackberry pie a la mode.
-high high ceilings.
-emotional and spiritual landmarks.
-remembering my ma.
-deep house music until 3am.
-kickin’ performance pieces to people who
truly understand the references & the growth.
---------------------------------------


[feb. 13, 2008]
hey peoples;
been movin up in the world by writing
as much as i can, unfurling my body and my
aches word for word. a belated happy lunar
new year! we had siopao, bok choy, all kinds
of delicious root vegetables, all kinds of round
shaped desserts for the new year. it just so
happens that i am feeling my age this winter.
as i take walks more and stretch more, this
upcoming year must be a challenge because
it's already so apparent. one breath, two breath,
three breaths. again, i have lost another person
vital to my life and again, i am thinking about
death and how we shift our lives to live, despite
the wars, the silence, the resentment, the missing.

look out for new projects with creative counsel
and their 1000 voices project, as well as a
couple performances in the good ol' chi-il
including a "queer in color" showcase at
columbia college MARCH 17th.

i'm maneuvering my heart and how my last
two years-- this grief of loss as managed to
thin me out, hurt the people that i love.
what do you do when unexpected obstacles
make it hard to recover? i make recipes and
write late into night. i made a shake that
shakes my blues away-- temporarily:

-1/8 cup frozen/ripe raspberries.
-1/8 cup frozen/ripe blackberries
-1 cup soy milk
-1/4 cup water
-2 tblesp. heavycream
-pinch of brown sugar
-4 icecubes
-two organic truffles/ 2 squares of ghirardelli
dark chocolate.

mix well in blender and serve.
serves 2

send me love and intentions. i send you
this recipe. expect a newsletter soon.
*k.

---------------------------------------


[dec. 26, 2007]
UPDATED KAY on NPR/Chicago Amplified.

peace & in solidarity, happy kwanzaa.



i'm striving to understand collective,
what it means to rise within and
without. i'm seeing these days as
repair and realization. there's no
snow in the 40 degrees of jersey city.
global warming only brings us spring-
like weather as raindrops mist parols
leaning against window panes. they sit
still and i count them, there are over 11
on my block. i don't generally observe
the christian aspect of them, but the
craftmanship and artful radiance i think
they bring. peace on & on, y'all.

---------------------------------------


[dec. 19, 2007]
heyyyy peoples! to ease your winter blues,
sniffly noses, and heavy hearts i send you
some KAY on NPR/Chicago Amplified.

just getting back in the swing of things
i write more now and try to craft what
happens inside me into something tangible,
powerful. we'll see what winter and the
2008 brings.

---------------------------------------


[dec. 7, 2007]
thank you many times to christine goodman
& arthouse productions for welcoming me
jersey city-style! i kicked some new
stuff and saw old kasamas who trekked
from the city to jersey city. i'm blessed
to have that kind of support. no nunchaku
injuries as of yet, keep your fingers crossed.

got a new hat. instead of getting a new life
or getting drastic changes hauled into my days,
i decided to start small and get a new hat.
photos of the arthouse performance and of the
new snazzy hat coming soon.

i don't know what i have been doing to
honor death fully and seriously or even
loss for that matter. i've lamented over
chicago in ways that surpass food-- i know,
didn't think it could be done. ah, but my
newest food crush: ROTI BOTI SHEEHAN
in jackson heights, queens. their gulab
jamun is nearly perfect. nothing is better
than open 24 hrs. a day & delectable garlic
naan.

i miss my former students who i
worked with at senn high school and
at the chicago freedom school.
sometimes i even get moments of teary eyes
thinking about my old slam team i co-coached.
i miss being an educator who felt truly
supported. i miss the poems made re-write
after re-write and no longer forging the pen
into discipline, but looking up to a roomful
of youth who drink their own words, who
thirst and savor syllables and who are upset
by the words "times up." i haven't gotten that
here. being so busy with polite and reserved
forms of teaching and having to educate
my boss, co-workers, etc. on homophobia/sexism
is a disservice to the youth. i'm calling
universe to grant me some truth for the
work i was set to do here. i'm calling on
grit to have busy back-to-back projects
that feed more than my bills.

my friend margarita is visiting from batanes,
philippines and i've been akin to reuniting
her gradually to the belly ways of gluttonous
north amerika. when i visited PI last summer
we had the opportunity to be in alaminos &
eat the most delectable seafood. the homeland
does it so right. jersey city diner diner food
and "the spud" are ridiculously satiating,
but i want to teleport out of here sometimes,
only to land at a summer picnic table
or at my uncle's house in pangasinan with
perfect tortang talong every morning.

random thought lately:
been thinking about what sharon bridgeforth
had mentioned during my oberlin visit last
november. how i've let it sit within me.
she says she asks her students to examine
their relationships to their mother, then their
mother's mother. when i think of my lola
i only remember a lonely lost face in
middle michigan. i remember her expression
when she fell on the icy sidewalk after
church mass, the blood a scorching contrast
to the pale snow crawling from her ear. i remember
her popping raw rice grains in a bowl of
water as i shivered from nightmares, her
prayers wafting above my head, her magic
and coconut oil massaged onto my sleepy
belly. i fought her healing ways, undid the
curses i couldn't dare to fathom only to
make truce over gameshows like 'family
feud.' my lola and i would forge a bond
'over wheel of fortune,' share snacks
during commericial breaks without a
word exchanged.

i'm steadily trying to honor my losses,
press them upto my skin this winter &
love the glory of their mourning, of ache,
of hibernation. i'm prepping for the altar
i am to put away. a letter from my ma
propped upon candlewax and malong cloth,
if it's cold enough, death will take my
tears again this winter.

*to healing again,
k.

---------------------------------------


[nov. 24, 2007]
ohh oberlin! thank you juli, jack, TAG, &
everyone for showing me kind spirit
for the trans day of remembrance event.
watch out now! i did nunchaku on stage
and people didn't flinch..hahaha.
performance art can be mad dangerous yo.
it was wonderful to step back from the
citylife and organize my thoughts.
i built altar, let silence in, feeling grounded
so far away from home. i used to travel
too often with my partner in another
city, with mango tribe, as well as my
own solo gigs. now i feel as though even
performing out of state is a vacation.
besides, on the plane i like being called
a "nice young man." by the passenger next to
me.

do you ever forget how you got to where
you are? seldom moments hit me and
i have trouble navigating exactly what
happened to motivate my choices...
then i remember OH! thaaaat's right, you
are queerphobic or racist or whatever multiple
oppressions mainstream people like to
minimize. truths at random: i think i'm losing
faith in my elders, in the people who consider
themselves to be "pioneering." i'm having less
hope in books and more in my pots, pans,
the letters & postcards i have yet to send.
lastly, listening to luther(as in vandross)
makes me ache the secrets of myself right
out. how could someone be so gifted &
so painfully contained?

well kasamas & peoples, i have thus far
eaten about three bowls of mashed potatoes.
these are the ever important chronicles of
a social justice spoken word homo, like
myself. be as good to yourself as possible, yes.
also, if you want leftovers, at my house is
the best possible pecan pie there ever was.
you better believe it!(struts toward the kitchen)

---------------------------------------



[nov. 12, 2007]
1.
yooo everyone! see y'all in ohio &
also in staten island. trans day
of remembrance is november 20th.
let's honor our trans pamilya and
ourselves. like many other oppressed
peoples, it takes more than a day
to commemorate our dopeness &
survival.

1.56
thanks to everyone at the YELL!
Coalition for the opportunity to
facilitate a self-defense 101 work-
shop last saturday. BGLTQQ of
color people are in dire
need of different forms self-defense.
i consider protesting, organizing,
lobbying, music, poeticizing, perf-
orming, being, socializing, all of that
some form of resistance. there is
room to truly enhance our strength,
especially in terms of self-care.
let me be clear-- i don't teach
violence. conversely, we have to
understand that our beings are
at war. hate crimes and attacks
are rampant and in times of the
NEWARK 4, we must delve into
creating of color queerhood that
is safe, that claims, that grows,
that reminds us that we deserve
safety. in what ways can we be at
peace within our bodies?

2.
i'm now the teacher with a small
cubicle at my workplace. i wince
at heteronormativity and homo-
phobia swallowed by other of color
youth and adults... all the time.
i must learn to rid this,
to expel colonization out
of me, to remain loving and
compassionate, yet stern and
knowledgable in moments even when
they are "just words." i have to
explain to every student who
gives a queasy glance at my desk
that allisonjoy is my life partner.
we're not bestfriends or like
sisters, no- she's not related
to me. often you can look over
to my desk and see students
dizzily walking away, as if they
were just struck with something
hard and unfamiliar. eventhough
befuddled faces make for good
conversation, the occasional
student who passes by unstunned
by some framed photos, eases the
day.

3.
almost like a countdown, ten
days of what would've been my
ma's birthday. i'm squeezing my
heart shut. on day of the dead my
chosen pamilya and i made circle
and altar, made quiet candlelit
silence learning acceptance.

---------------------------------------



[oct 8, 2007]
i am not getting mail at my new
address.the plight of moving may
include many things like lost
packages, letters, even lost bills.
noone can give me an honest answer
about where anything is, as i dragged
myself to 3 different post offices.
decidedly since my move i have
gained a deeper respect for "midwest
nice." customer service is a funny
thing as i bumble around with my 'please'
and 'thank yous,' as my brazen sweeps
along my words faster than this
leaving summer.

i have no exciting news for you all.
it's autumn now and today might be
the last day to peak in the late
80's. i like new york city's china-
town. i call o and ask her to meet me
there after work, after long days
trying to understand how i fit or
how i don't. the chicago exodus of
friends keeps me aware of my move,
acknowledges my roots as i seem to
re-fashion myself again and again.

my birthday happened with a sore
mouth and i was surrounded in home-
cooked food, singing late into the
night. we did not have a magic-mic
so we made do without the terrible
backdrops. i don't feel 26. i feel
more like 14, or 17 without the body
or the necessity to jump off of
things.

i will write something else soon.
please pass me autumn recipes as
my diet has comprised of mostly desi
food from restaurants and buffets.
i want to begin cooking again...
however do expect some restaurant
reviews and critiques coming this
way soon.

holla back,
k.

---------------------------------------



[Sep 7, 2007]
new jersey windchimes are no different,
small bells spinning to wind and tree
song. don't know how catastrophically
different the midwest is over the east
coast even though o and i sit hunching
heavy long days in union square. the sky
is smaller here & the world seems as
crumpled and slim as the millions of tiny
apartments crowd landscape. i hear salsa
y merengue everywhere here, just like
chicago. i pace brooklyn after filling out
paperwork for my new job, hovering
over summer street festivals, mofongo
in tins. i scan hipsters in their smooth
bicycles and call e saying disheartedly,
"are we somewhere in between?"

she's in the cusp of chicago to LA,
binding notes and immersions and
articles for a panel she's presenting at the
tongue to tongue conference. i
don't tell her to scoop me up once her plane
is on its way. i just reply with headnods
as i galavant expensive organic food markets.

JOMA is detained now and i'm picking
up salad dressings, comparing prices, hold
up boxes of granola to note protein counts.
my furniture is somewhere snug in a
truck in careening new england and
i read the news for updates of hope.
GMA is laughing in her sleep. GMA is
laughing in her sleep. me forgetting woes
and worries in grocery aisles, others paying
so much worse.

i am not buying any of these brand names:
Knorr, Becel/Flora, Bertolli, Lipton, Blue Band,
Rama, Country Crock, Doriana, Heartbrand,
Hellman’s, Amora, Calvé, Wish-Bone,
Slim·Fast, Cif, Comfort, Domestos, Omo,
Radiant, Sunlight, Surf, Axe, Dove, Lifebuoy,
Lux, Rexona, Pond’s, Signal, Close Up,
Sunsilk, and Vaseline.

they are connected to the dutch industries that
have deep motivating interest in U.S.-Philippine
politics. these corporations impacts push Jose
Maria Sison (JOMA) into netherlands law enforce-
ment.

please read more:

dutch-philippine relations,
the ties that bind.

i miss my pamilya in the midwest and
wandering about chinatown for quiet.

*pouring change & wanting to fast forward,
k.

---------------------------------------
[Aug 20, 2007]

goddess build me with integrity to build
hope. goddess manifest joy within
my communities & within myself.
for real goddess, let me claim what
i deserve to give to my pamilyas.

i've always considered myself to be
at the very least, an honest & authentic
person. even if i hurt people or
myself, i have tried to sharpen
the tools to be present in my ways.
sometimes, people give you props,
ask you to speak longwindedly
on panels, encourage your voice.
other times, not so much. this is
where i sit down with my chili and
corn muffin accepting convictions
as raindrops tilt along the glass pane.

the Chicago Freedom School Ceremony
flowed smoothly last friday. all the
students brought force, generated such
dope performance. the concerns in
their communities had breadth and
voice that uplifted their families, the
staff, their friends. it was the first institute,
with many kinks and difficulties that
were hardly visible on that stage. i loved
to just swim in the students' findings,
their responses the filling questions
into the auditorium.

in nujeru now after a short trip to
boston. allisonjoy sung for her grrl's
wedding and she added such goodness,
such love ruckus with that voice of hers.
i am not musical-- not formally or currently,
so people like her amaze me with my
jumbled discordant fast feet. we stayed with
our homegrrl jessica who was utterly
sweet. she opened up her home after
just meeting at the summit. sometimes i
wish i could portal to cities chicago or
boston for the wee pamilya we build,
but i know that the moments in between
are worth the couple of hours on the
plane. i like the sound of having
another place to land. i like the sound
of offering my home and nourish to
people who are powerful spirits.

gonna be lugging around boxes as soon
as i get back to chicago. gonna sieve
through old pamphlets, doodads, keepsakes
and disposables. gonna realize a new
apartment in the east coast surrounded in
filipino restaurants! we had the first meal
at my apartment. we laid down a malong,
said blessings, cupped rice with our hands,
i asked goddess to give our movements
strength, to hold elvira as she gets the u.s.
government's brunt-- all their corrupt
pushing her to tijuana. i asked for all the rest
of us brown/queer/immigrant survivors,
being pared down to size, down to
an unbearable quiet. how we are threatened
as our pamilyas are given statutes or blank
authorizations by strangers. how our lovers
or daughters hold the blows of distance
like chants-- roaring over and over.
i ate my adobo and tortang talong
while laughing skipping the green
walls, into the heads of my pamilya
in this new space. it was just the 3 of us,
scraping food by fingertip. we do as we
can to create new homes. we box up
our possessions and store them with unlit
inspirations and altar mumblings like spurt
rainstorms on dry soil. sometimes
having a roof over our head in the
rain is the only answer we have.

chicago, i am leaving you soon.


---------------------------------------
[July 21, 2007]
what's good peoples?!

been rustling my way from new york city and back, re-orienting myself as far as classrooms, the usual summer.

thanks to everyone who made it out
to dyke mic 2.0 @ Center on
Halstead. the gayborhood in chicago
has a huge space-- basketball
courts, theater, kitchen, all
beautious & in the heart of boystown.
the crowd at the dyke mic was
bountiful and as the rain
poured onto the roof, i thanked
goddess for whatever she spins
my way. i thanked her for the
poems she offers to breathe within
and for the patience to carry them.
some poems people kicked were raw.
a favorite thing: watching queer
folks of color perform and roll their
energy onto the stage. so good.

i'm making lists about to do as i
leave chicago. that's right. i said
it, i'm leaving. as is my sista
olivia. lastnight we sang loud loud,
near a projector and made collages and
ate tres leches cake. could it be
better than that? could learning
about my homeland & about womyn/queer
fierce get any better than this?
this is the chicago i write poems for.
she's got my back and passes the
hotsauce before i make reach. she
photocopies poems & curriculums
late into morning for cheap. she
makes hardwood sounds to remind
me spirits are about whether the
altar is lit or not.

the journey of staying and going:
i have decided to rigorously clean
every room once every 2/3 days.
it is time for packing and ridding.
how do you shed and distinguish
what stays and goes? 16 years is
plenty of time develop your story,
it's artifacts fixed and growing in
numbers. give me moving tips.
seriously, how do you move from
somewhere you have been all of your
life? it's finished. the decision
is made, but exactly how? i'm open
to ideas or theories. feel free
to email me:

info@kaybarrett.net



---------------------------------------
[July 2, 2007]
new poem to be revised

once there was a palm reader,
a fortune teller.
on a summer night she took my mother's
folded money to deliver this advice:


"you will die in water, you will
be surrounded and unable to
escape."


later it would be me in orange
floaties hugged at the bicep,
showing my mama my moves as
she clapped from a fair distance.


much later, fluid complication
in the lungs, esophogus as
zealous as a water hose,
arteries as determined as rainclouds.


it would be hospital room 203 at
the brink of rainy season in
dagupan city.


i wonder if she could see the
window pane rifle a rhythm
she hadn't seen since childhood.


i wonder as the i.v. dripped a
slow beat, as she poured into
her own self


if thunder was song enough,
if she understood
--she was finally home.



---------------------------------------
[June 20, 2007]

1.
they have me sticking tongue
depressors (a.k.a giant popsicle sticks)
between my teeth. about 4 interns
at NYU School of Dentistry and a
faculty member hovered over me
to see how many i "could do".
my mouth extension is pitiful. i've
had multiple infections and doped
up by prescription medication that i
stink of it from the pores. my
mouth muscles are sore.
crunchy things hurt to eat, so i
am eating fruit like honeydew all
the time. though i love honey dew,
i love salty and savory foods,
most of which are crunchy.
i'd do anything for a garlic bagel
chip.

1.5
my partner is super mighty and
grounds and loves and
warms me. due to mouthstupid
(which is what i will call it from now on),
i haven't been exciting, engaging, mostly
drugged and recovering from the
philippines. besides this, we laugh
over movie nights and switch glances
when we both agree that something
is wack or annoying, partners move
a language unsaid. her hands on my
head is a miracle of a feeling.

2.
going back home was a mess of beautiful
confusion. it's different to be guarded
everywhere you go in the provinces
and then hold hands with your partner
on a tricycle in manila. i had several
mangosteens, santol, and mangoes.
i learned about herbs and healing in
my mother tongue in quezon city. i
held my breath in tarlac. i swam and
swam and snorkled and swam.

3.
my deepest apologies to everyone
who went to homolatte in chicago(yesterday)
or to the community renewal project
conference(tomorrow). because of
mouthstupid i have to cancel speaking
engagements and performances. i can
hardly take a bite out of an apple
versus perform a full set or sit on a
panel


---------------------------------------
[May 14, 2007]

Vote for the GABRIELA WOMEN"S PARTYLIST!

[May 12, 2007]

fact:
in august 1977 cesar chavez, the president
of the UFW (United Farm Workers Movement)
went on a trip to the philippines funded
by the Marcos dictatorship. he chatted,
visited, and received a Special Presidential
Award from marcos himself. if chavez at
all understood international labor movements
in countries like the philippines, if he
built an understanding with the manongs in
UFW, he'd realize that his trip erased his
filipino constituents. after all, filipinos
only started the farmworker's movement,
before dolores huerta even set foot as vice
president.

fact:
Filipino/as are the second largest
immigrant population in the united
states and growing.

fact:
2/3 of the immigrant population in
this nation is woman-identified.

fact:
filipina women remit over $12 billion
a year as they are abroad in hong
kong, u.s., canada, greece, you name it.


i know my her/history.
i can list facts, i've trained myself
to arm myself, load them on the words
i write and spit out statistics like
other people are supposed to understand
teh breadth of numbers.

but they don't.

my mayday was ridiculous. i waited almost
FOUR hours for a promised speaking
engagement at the Chicago MAYDAY rally.

but instead of being maturely notified,
i waited, without any organizer, volunteer,
emcee telling me and after the third
time of inquiring when i was scheduled,
i was told i was cut from the program.

in all the speeches, no one made any
effort to name the Asian-Pacific Islander
community. They did name the Irish however
and had Daly talk about his big huge
plan to infiltrate teh southside of
chicago with the 2016 and what diversity
that is!

there were no women-led, women based
organizations. all the performances were
young straight men, with exception to
the azteca dancers. there was not-- I REPEAT
not one Asian-Pacific Islander
group or collective represented through
out the program.

Asians don't exist! Pacific Islanders?
what's that? the city of chicago has the
largest filipina medical nurse population
in the entire country and not one APIA
person to speak for it? not one APIA
person to discuss how this country's
depleting policies are affecting us by
the thousands?

in chicago asian and pacific-islander
people are not brown. in chicago asian-
pacific islander people are not valid in
leftist politics. in chicago we work and
toil, but our struggles are only valid to
us.

i see now that coalitioning is a hard
effort in this city, especially with
straight biological male leadership in
most of the immigrant organizing.

chicago, for so many reasons, i am
divorcing you and i do not have the energy
in me to work with you any longer.




---------------------------------------
[MayDay, 2007]

this will be difficult.

i remember clearly last year, how
the core felt when we chanted, when
it was chicago mangotribe and close
friends, the ache of urgency we felt,
we still feel. our poems were more
than some spit canon, ammunition, more
than what puts food on the table. we,
a part of a swarm, a mass of moving
thriving bodies that wanted more from
this country.

and we still do. some moments i know
the chants are pent up, stuck at the
kidney, lodged around a rib, our
childhoods or mother's stories, our
evidence of hard work and circles around
the eyes; we are going to march and
protest and everyday speak about the
corruption we face, our neighborhoods,
our friends, our families have faced.

last year i was asked by a fox news anchor:
when did this all start? i mean alot
of you are very passionate.

like our efforts of protest can be
pathologized or single, or this one time
we got off our asses. we've been working
our asses off all our lives, learned
this by trade of our parents, grandparents,
and resistance happens everyday.

wiping your tables, sewing your clothes,
teaching your kids, growing your food,
watching over the baby, cracking knuckles
over factory metal, washing dishes, you
know that amerika can't function without
us and still, people just become a cheap
labor force.

my ma last year couldn't attend mayday
because she was sleeping for a 9 hour shift
at some bank where she would stuff
envelopes, pass the checks around of richer
people, she slept with the touch of other
people's earnings. she died being too tired
and too silenced by the amerikan dream.
not given the resources to speak up, doing
work that was not honest to her spirit,
not being paid enough for it, working
for one hospital bill to the next.
this country killed her. i wrote it
last year, i will write it again. on the
petty side, i made more in college part time.

i know there are queer people out there
who can't risk their jobs and mothers
who've got to get to work on time, or
girls whose bosses are closed doors
late paychecks, friends who will work
all their lives and who are forced out,
workers with families who need the health
resources here to survive, or people
who never are allowed to negotiate
their value or time or work conditions.
from the slightly annoyed to the
completely ridiculed and exploited, people
who for some reason by choice or immediacy
can march today, we march for everyone.

that's right.
i'm queer
i'm filipina
i was raised working class
i'm 2nd generation immigrant
and oh yes, there are thousands more.

.....BOO!



---------------------------------------
[29, April 2007]

after two scoops of icecream(coffee &
butter pecan)w/raspberry topping & hot
fudge, one grilled cheese, and a
16 oz. bottle of aloe vera
beverage, i am hyped to say that
my mood has confusing aaaalllll day.

today i made tape and cardboard
kiss, to help a good friend move out of
her logan square apartment. difficult
foreshadowing this was, newspapers
crumpled in boxes stacked to a height
as high as my forehead. i will miss
chicago when i go, miss how it smells,
how the wind is determined to lift
you up from the balls of your feet, to
give us humans humility.

thank you to everyone who made it out
to the hothouse this 26th for YWCA's
She Speaks Volumes! y'all were
into poems and honored some really
pivotal womyn in the Chicago Anti-Violence
movement. thanks to YWCA for letting me
move about the stage and intro some
interesting and accomplished people.
hot house was ofcourse such a treat
to work in, it's as if it is chicago's
better performance spaces. the Institute
for the Study of Women and Gender in the
Arts and Media, Columbia College was
also a treat to collaborate with.

had papa caché with some friends
yesterday. this is a chicago recommend-
ation. there are few moments of outright
endorsement on this site, but papa caché
is delicious. meat eaters, the chicken
is succulant, the jibaritos are dream worthy.
talkin' the politiks of observation; do
you believe in objectivity? in neutrality?
see me & jami seem to think that there
isn't such a thing. a person of color
is gonna see something different than
a white person, or to be complicated,
everyone's conditioning and life experi-
ence shape multiple views, yes? well
over tostones crisping in our mouths,
that's what we decided.

moving on, come on now, who doesn't
love the aroma of garlic after a meal?
an aroma emitting from every single
pore of your body. oh yes! thank
goddess allisonjoy and i are in
love and heart garlic, cause it would
be tacky to be sleeping next to someone
who you thought was odious. nope we sleep
content and garlic-coated.(in reference
to papa caché's food)

tomorrow i sit with my sisters and
talk about globalization and political
economics-- migrant women workers and
the affect of U.S. military in the
Philippines. we load our days with
post-its. we teach each other. we high-
light paragraphs & wince a little.
we align the theory with throatfuls
of concoctions we do on the fly or
were raised with since the creation
of our sense of taste. we tally up stats:
1/10 filipinas leave the homeland, 3/5
arrive back to the philippines in coffins.
they/we work to a sublime degree only
to hardly survive by an economy that
contorts heroism and pain to caucophonies
of paper, where us scholars and activist
do-gooders try to cross out every lie
we learned in amerikan public education,
every lie suppressed of our culture, we
chew rice grains and can hardly swallow.

morning time will be a hot shower,
a cup of tea, a sweeping of the living
room floors, i will pass the altar
for my mother and move half tip-toe
around an apartment i've had for years.
i will greet my friends/sisters/comrades
in cheek kisses, croon over potluck
jubilation and then, we will get down
to the business of re-learning.

what lies do you unlearn, let
decompose so the exploration can
peek its head into reality? that
sounded weird. what i meant to say
is, when you strip the racist,
sexist, queerphobic lies off of you,
how do you make sure they don't
get back in?

reading isn't enough. it
drives me apathetic or mindless.

i love ending my journals with such
uplifting messages. it's a gift, i know.

*k.

ps. i have never gotten into the "L"
Word. i am only on season 1 & though
the absence of color pisses me off,
i think bette has redeeming qualities.

[24, April 2007]

hello summer hunger;
my teaching season has ended in rogers
park. senn high school was a flurry
of swinging words and flickering
anger. no, literally. i couldn't stand
the word like razor-thin, faggot.
not on the tongue of a girl student
as her face gets gnarled by said-fag
they already in too deep, they
already black and criminalized,
thirsty of a blank journal page.
so he chucked in slut and
whore for good measure. their
eyes bloodshot. their eyes in havoc
by fear. three instructors and a
couple security guards later, my class
is rubbing the words off, not able
to get back to poem, to the group
pieces due the following week.

sis, i know you were mad, but the
anger isn't supposed to let you
loose unstoppable as you scream
words you don't understand. right?
i was holding her back, telling
her she better stop her rage, her
two faggot teachers, don't approve of
that language.

admittance:
a boy wanted to kiss, more like
exoticize a girlfriend and i--
imagine 1990's. you know the song,
straight boys sing when they are
all about lesbians... he taunted us
every class we had, now i see it was
sexual assault, but he was endless with
graphic 'descriptions' about what
he would do to us, what could
turn us straight. i tripped
him once. the opportunity came
and he had sped down the stairs
next to me, all packing, shuffling
to hurry on to trig, gym, or chem,
i managed to trip him down the stairs.

a milli-second after he whispered
dyke. it's evil. my fists were
used to punching skin. i wanted payback.
years and years of rage, of not fitting,
of hushed bold, of teasing, and of
institutional everything--racism, sexism,
poverty, silence.

i'm not gonna say the poems are
always gonna keep you, console you,
even harbor you. but there are other ways.

2007:
the cops were paddywagon ready, the
doors all hungry to swallow up the
black fag and black whore, respectively.
they didn't want to know what trigg-
ered the incident, they didn't care.
just more of color youth to fill the
handcuffs. there will be no therapy,
no trainings on anger or racism or
homophobia, you bet no supportive
counseling. just keep them off of
school grounds, so the cops can arrest
them another time, so they can have
their guardians beat them, or they can
be judged by another nice white staff
member who writes the discipline
reports and shakes their head to
another black teen, of course wayward.

this is why i am careful with my
tools, these words. this is why i
cherish the friendships and family
i create because we have to stick
together, for our own justice, because
we were raised ornery and without
resources to urge the ornery and
it's not as simple as oops, that was
a bad word.

the final closing ceremony for my
students pulled through wonderfully.
group pieces were on-point and cue,
they centered and projected and
let their stories weave into the
bellies of their audience. they
each stepped up their delivered
all the mighty within. they gave
props, laughed, gave each other
radiance. i still felt the student we
missed. i wanted to her to see that
the words are worth it, that you can
manifest something more durable, more
world-bound than fear and fists.

i am flying kites to heal, celebrating
my partner's ways as she grows as a
healer, letting the sunlight in.

what have you done to string yourself
together? let's swap notes.

*to feet on land & resistance awake,
k.


---------------------------------------
[8, April 2007]

what's good peoples;
my many thanks to providence and boston
audiences as the mangos w/chili tour swept
new england with glamor, stanzas, and
good spirits.

providence:
i've never been to providence before,
only know this part of amerika by way of
television and hearsay, so it was dope to
receive support from people in a city
i've never met before. love to adam for
lending us your home space, your
stories and open insights. the black
repertory theater was a personal and
smaller venue, made me feel closer
to the crowd, made it feel like cipher
intimate. the show was quicker, the
tour members on top of cues and over
all, i dug this night. providence
is small, mostly white. every city,
an adventure, yes?

boston:
thank you amanda for the best seafood
of my entire life!

i have been missing the phone calls
from mile to mile. last year this time,
i was all over philly, gigging east
again, blending pangasinan and tagalog
with odd colonial formal names like
'swarthmore.' no matter what, i could
call my ma, she'd be concerned per
usual with parental curiousities---
have i eaten, where am i, who am i with
am i having a good time, did i feel
good when i performed, am i happy...
everytime i seem to land at a new
theater, hear a new poem lit from the
stage, i feel drawn to call her, give
her updates, tell her about seafood
restaurants or which crowd i felt the
closest to. i have not been too closeknit
with other poets/performers on this
tour because in the last year i have
become such a closed person. i guess
now that i don't have someone to call
i reserve all my mighty for the stage

spontaneous celebrations was a gorgeous
community space, the murals and wood
everywhere kinda reminded me of insight
arts and albizu-campos combined. i wish
i could've spent more time in the space,
looked at workshops and programs offered,
it annoys me how performers sweep in
and out of cities without touching
pulse or communal rejoice.

in boston, the poems were rich. i loved
watching audience respond to the range
and difference of each person's work.
from the thick prose of victor, to the
intricate narratives that dulani offered,
to ignacio's brazen and to tom's bold
use of space, i like queers of color
holding their own. what was unsuprising,
was the presence of white people in the
space. in the front rows, all i wanna
see are people of color. after
all it is a show dedicated to queers of
color, so why not step back? during
interviews i've been constantly asked
'who is my audience?' well to answer
that question: queer filipino/as and
queers of color. this doesn't mean that
other communities or identities cannot
make connections with my work, but i am
meant to nourish my own. in college,
i was always tokenized by straight brown
people for being a homo/woman-identified
and in white feminist communities for
being brown. naturally, i've hated this
exoticized way, this oriental gaze on me.

going back to chicago tomorrow, going
to get back to loud classrooms and
students extracting metaphors from lyrics
and epistles and group poems. i miss my
own bed. i miss the simplicity of
chicago, i miss jibaritos and cheap
horchata when i want it. i will miss
cardplaying and diner food with my
partner, true i will miss the turon
and tagalog across the corner, but i'll
soon be all in the east coast for good.
might as well lavish in the midwest this
spring, the parts i wanna fall hard for
always make their way by summer.

*to diner pancakes done right,
k. ulanday barrett.


---------------------------------------
[2, April 2007]

gorgeous shifters;

thank you thank you for coming out
to swarthmore college and to
galapagos for mango tribe's 5 year
anniversary!

1)
i love energy to eat things up,
harness focus on so many words
entering this universe for power,
i love it.
2)
the hustle, the on-the-road hustle
and gas station pauses before perf-
orming are hella comical. i've been
feeling sick, outta my own range,
coughing too much for any performer.
but the prince's musicology album is
good to me with the volume up with the
obligational roadtrip sun are good
decongestants.
2.3)
i love performing 'rhythm is a dancer.'
mostly because people think that because
a piece has upbeat discussions about
dancing, it can't possibly incite
racism or fear or displacement-- never
these issues in white gay liberal
politics. ha. suuurrrpprrriiiise!
3)
the intensely nasty and unprofessional
tech issues (clearly in theater, lights,
sound, and projection are intrinsic
to the art)during the swarthmore
performance was a hard first step.
i don't want to ever have one of my
peers be unsupported in that way, there's
no integrity about it, no collective,
no support. performing is serious, our
work is warrior blood, our stories
feed our bellies and elate hearts.
in future shows, i need to see stronger
tech support and logistical support.
4)
been eating filipino food hella.
mmmmmmmmMMM. SO. good.
5)
again i am falling in love with the
east coast, but i wish my midwest pamilya
could see all this commotion. i miss them.
oh and a belated happy born-day to my
grrl olivia.
6) oh. more on mango tribe later yes?
yes yes y'all. i'm going to write
more soon, but first, some more filipino
food. this cannot be good for my colon.

*love without a blink,
k.


---------------------------------------
[31, March 2007]

peoples of the world;
TODAY:
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Lang Concert Hall at Swarthmore College
(500 College Ave, Swarthmore PA)
7:30 PM- 9:30 PM
Free admission!!!

also catch me scurry from
williamsburg for the Mango Tribe
5th Anniversary Show -- RE:TELLING.

the mighty flyness of these combined
brooklyn fiascos make me speechless.

honestly, i could just be tired.
i did however write an eloquently grandeur
journal entry, but this computer in
jersey city gobbled it up for early
morning breakfast. i will see you all
later of course, right? riiiiiight.

*to being & claiming,
k.


---------------------------------------
[21, March 2007]

hello peoples;

here's some footage from the university
of wisconsin performance for women's
month!

here i lay the truth-- i can dance
AND move for performance. i have this
awkward story about being age 7 or so
dressed as a bumblebee in a ballet
recital, long story short, i fell in
the orchestra pit. it was more like
i was pushed by the hot pink wearing
blonde kiss up, tracy something. she
busted my stinger in front of everyone!
trauma and drama with bumblebee wings.

anyway:




after sharing the bumble bee incident,
i expect to see you all at my shows
end of this month, yes?

my students writing prompts today
were: we can slowly take control
of our lives... and/or amerika
slowly comes to see...

the words they came up with are sheer
goodness.

*to early morning kisses,
k.


---------------------------------------
[15, March 2007]

hello peoples;

a happy belated international womyn's
day (march 8th) to all of you. may
our ancestors and mamas and cousins
and all of us grow harmony and
ferocity. may we come correct for
our spirits and this universe.
may we create justice in our stories,
relationships, movements, and laughter.

chicago has it's way of having bright
sun right about when i need it,
right about when i get too sunken.

mango tribe performed at university
of milwaukee as their kick-off for
international womyn's day and let
me say, we did real well. the audience
an amalgam of old grandparents and
undergraduate college students. the crowd
could have been bigger, but wisconsin
had it's way with snowstorms that
evening. my energy was fiery, hungry
to embody the stories and give them
freely, to spin and dance and move
melt my body into circles and arcs,
spit the words clear and full. the
energy my mangotribe sisters and i
create is fundamental to me, grounding
and giving, stretching my stuck parts
as they deserve.

what do you do to get into your body?
yes, we all wander and neutrally understand
our basic movements- spoon to the mouth,
walking left foot forward then right,
your fingers locking up the buttons to
the neck. but how do you re-discover
shapes or dancing in your body?

gonna put up some gigs happening all
first week of april. oh the east coast,
i'm traveling and kicking poems all over
you this spring. hopefully i will run
into some good peoples. if you know any
friends, girlfriends, homies, & the like
in philly, new york, boston, providence, &
northampton tell them something real
brown and real queer is burning through.

*to strengths within that want out,
k. ulanday barrett


-------------------------------------------
[8, February 2007] hello pamilya;

have some working gigs potentially
in the air. have been pushin' some
spirit to get work full on my plate.
have about ninemillion layers on
in the process.

check out some live poems
recorded by AAC Films. the
footage includes a reading of
"for^in" and "since my body." enjoy
them with to your poet hungry
indulgence& leisure.

been writing so much on random things
like rosie o'donnell (i know stereotypical),
lilac bushes, unfinished letters(which i
may never send), and also a letter to my
future puppy, whose name will be
cornbread.

i am trying to alleviate this flu
cough that's up to no good with my body.
when i was younger my father used to
hack up and i thought it was his
usual nicotine ways. he was a leather
jacket greaser with motorcycle, so
cigarettes were a part of his "cool."
my ma upto her last years coughed
tremendously, her chest spoke
tidal wave. for her years of who
knows- racism, work, lonely, her homo
for kid, selfless and selfishness
fought inside her, until her body
gave up. same with my dad... but different.
that's another story entirely, yes?
needless to say, i loathe coughing

i have started teaching poetry
afterschool this winter. the
students are poem gulping, they get in
on time, they challenge their voices
and they laugh at my jokes. so far, so
lovely. i do miss coaching pedro albízu-
campos high school slam team. it will be my first year not to do it and i am
reminiscing... take care ya'll. don't overdose on
lozenges, please.

*oh goodness & oh justice,
k. ulanday barrett.


-----------------------------------------
[22, January 2007]

happy new year everyone;

winter has proved to be stupidly warm until
now. at least that is how chicago is doing.
spent some of my holiday in jersey city/nyc/
harlem with family out there who made me
delicious platefuls of perfect plantain,
coconut rice, & yucca. my belly was quite
satisfied perusing the usual food joints
of my desire.

for people who do not know me, food
is a vice of mine. i can be the glutton
if so encouraged.

healing bulletin: black sesame and lychee
icecream have been fighting against
my missing my ma and winter blues.

**********Keep y'head up:

1) my presskit will be ready with some
suprises by this march too.

2) University of Milwaukee, WI is
bringing mango tribe in to kick our
regular fierce and sample some
work with the students on March 1st. 3) look out for new poems in the next week.
your clue: gays on public transportation.

4) a new project called "mangoes with chili"
is planned to perform in boston,
oakland, and east coast this April
2007. go on, check it out--
myspace.com/mangoswithchili

i am happy to be a part of this
brown queer gala of sorts.
we're still planning the tour,
so contact us.

*to love & light everyone,
k. ulanday barrett



-----------------------------------
[13, December 2006]

friends & people adorned in winter hats;

got tremendous makings during these
wee winter hours. also, a belated love
to everyone on International Human Rights
Day (Dec. 10th) and a holla to my sis,
rebecca on her birthday.

gotta gig tomorrow.. have some new pieces
in my pocket, let's see what happens.

curiousity:
do you ever feel absolutely stuck?
too much internet, too many letters
from the homeland that hurt, too many
poems that ache, a few students making
attempts at poems to shake nightmares,
you feel your art stagnant, & other
people almost ridiculously insulting,
plus we all know the gloom of chicago's
winters aren't the most chipper of climates. aside from usual spendthrift or
wasteful trappings...what do you do?

make a list of aspects that grow you,
pile them up, ration your laughter
entangled moments, your favorite
bites of meals, the breath of a lover
within you and find something that
engulfs... something that honors you,
takes your sacred and brings you back
to yourself, allows your roots to
magnify and celebrate.

thank you to the dope artists that
restore, my students that revive,
my all kinds of pamilya that hold,
my partner that is mighty, the earth
for her patience, the universe for goin'
on & on, and you for your own bravado.
reciprocity people, ya heard?!

*to all kinds of nutrients,
k.


------------------------------------
[20, October 2006]

shakers & movers;



i have two works published in the We Got Issues compilation. new yorkers, scurry
to bluestockings! run everyone! to your local
bookstore!

others in the book:
GirlStory, Suheir Hammad, Sarah Little Crow
Russell, Aya de Léon, Allisonjoy, Yvonne O.
Etaghene, & Jen Cendaña Armas

thank you everyone for the support and push for my work. (journal) students are magical and future see-ers.
they tell you their lives like a page
written jittery is more than confession.
only three weeks into it and their puffed
jackets and popped collars look teachers
in the eye like past lives, give us
acknowledgement, mix ink and tear,
the careful chemists, we handle explosions
everyday and everyday there is an
element in there stanzas that have
the potential to explode hearts.

*to pumpkin seeds & warm selves,
kay.


-----------------------------------------
[15, September 2006]

"we arrived at my mother's island
to find your mother's maiden name in stone
we did not need to go to the graveyard
for affirmation
our own geneologies
the language of childhood wars...
-audre lorde, Home

it was my first birthday since my ma
passed. i don't think the word "died" has
an ability in my mouth.

in addition to rambling with insurance
companies that do not where the
philippines is located, i did have my
share of glorious food with pamilya
& friends along with the vivacious
hours of board gaming with my partner.

tradition was broken: no pretend-to-be
-upwardly-middleclass and eat at
Red Lobster for my birthday. a
convention brought early on by my mother.
i would've probably damn near cried in
my crableg bib, anyway. best to shed
tears of mixed emotion in the
home. best to do so with a partner who
writes and sings you a blues song.

questions are bundling up now, it is
autumn. plans for my poetry and work
are on the accelerated path now that i
am both teaching and gigging again.

thank you to everyone for your support,
your spirit in the struggle, your
hope.

---------------------------------------
[11, August 2006]

"Just do what you got to do; if that
don’t work, then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, biter,
flame-ignitor, crowd-exciter
Or you wanna jus’ get high, then
just say it
But then if you a liar-liar,
pants on fire, wolf-crier,
agent wit’ a wire
I’m gon’ know it when I play it.."
-- dead prez, hip-hop



my friends, poet-ers, & homies all around;

i am exhausted. what about you?
what do you say to someone who
says this in your community?
"well, we can't really prove what
happened. we don't know this person,
these are just allegations."

when we live in a world that silences
brown people's voices, youth testimony
as valid and informative, AND
minimizes women's empowerment
----i will eliminate these cuttings
of our lives. i will not reinforce
complacency or give power to spaces of
privilege. i will hold a young brown
woman's voice to support the room, the
utmost validity, the choice, the struggle
that it takes to honor actions. we can
only offer our integrity. marginalized
people are again and again caught
in harmful trappings that deplete our
truths, that conquer and divide us.

question: can we afford not to believe her?
our art means nothing if it is not honest
and supportive to the people it serves.
she is not alone, rape cannot be
pathologized. we see it as a tool
of war damaging our peoples
demonstrated by the current rape trial
in subic bay by way of the the u.s.
military, as some of us teachers/mentors/
students are survivors of sexual assault &
violence. if we name it, this violence,
if we name it, as it infests our artistic
and activist communities, i promise
it can be stopped.

-to community accountability,
k.

resources:
http://www.rapevictimadvocates.org/
http://www.mujereslatinasenaccion.org/
http://www.icasa.org/
http://bulatlat.com/news/5-40/5-40-rape.htm
http://bulatlat.com/news/5-40/5-40-marines.htm


----------------------------------------

[New Poem- 19, July 2006]

Our middlenames: a letter to Maria Clara
by k. ulanday barrett 2006


Maria Clara---
Every other Filipina
in the world bores your sounds,
customarily a middle name

Some mary, most marie
both make their way to your
curse of hard heart softened
by the blows of your male counter parts

as they lifted your skirt,
dirtied linens can be stained and rinsed,
where our middle names sit on the muck-raked
pages we read
and
we want nothing to do with it.

how can we be pure
if we are split open gashes by everyone--
spain, our brothers,
page 54, that painting,

your name, maria,
makes my sisters teeth grind
in their sleep.

warding off the rosaries
slivering round throats,
does not matter if we womyn live
does not matter if we womyn think
as long as we pray.
And your man, josé rizal
has not died in all his languages.

b-boys embellish the same tongue of rebellion,
university students sprinkled in tabaos grip
placards so fresh the paint still weeps,

josé in all radical clamor
and some beautiful men
use every teaching
write womens lives for them.

So he wrote, in his novel Ch. 5:

"an Oriental decoration,
her eyes. . . always downcast,"

you, doncella as a sweetheart
not a word from you,
limbs not for raised fists
or armed rifle or for dancer or poet hours.

Our men have learned his ways

Made Baton out of books,
beating us stupid with subservience.
José got us crying all the damn time.

Telling us to
step back, photocopy this,
stay with the kids
Womens concerns have nothing to do w/ the movement.

When the Messiah of the Revolution
said a true Filipina must be
Well-educated

did he roll over
your India hair until it quietly convulsed,
the curls only dreams now.
your old tongue banished by conquistador splinters
broken village twang
forced
proper-like.

The Spaniard friars with their pious and
their collegíos
crossed out the homegrown
machetes and oceans and words awake in you.

Did you toss and turn at night until
the babaylan priestesses
sung ritual as blanket ?

Did you know what a nightmare you would become?

Maria--
What did you say?
What notes on the margins of your books
stung your husband in secrecy?
What part of the sacrifice did you just want to
walk away from?

when they take you away and
hundreds of years from now
you are only
but a few
sentences in
the true Filipino novel,
----we understand.

Your well-traveled name
varnishes girls in suburban station wagons to
the florescent lights in the malls of dagupan, manila,
san francisco.

Customarily a middle name
Some Mary, most Marie.

we are raising our voices,
re-writing your epigram as daily as
boiling rice grains and prayer,

as you watch over us, ancestor wit
yo kinked hair,
your barrio banter blazin
mountain thick with resource and brown.

We marias and maries and marys
are writing our own stories,
so when you welcome us, after all the hard work is done

we will quote ourselves
we will sing our names
we will walk honoring you and all our pamilyas
we will not become fiction

and we warn this world
to never misspell our legacies again.