I have found my voice

Months after my previous post, I have found my voice after losing it.
A lot has happened since the last post.
It has been about a month since returning to New York City.
It feels weird, like I have been neglecting my family, friends, and comrades from NYC.
I also feel like I am abandoning my new friends and comrades from Detroit.
It is not easy leaving a place once called home.
I guess the nostalgia will pass with time, but it pains me to think that all I have now are memories of the good and bad times.
Change is good, right?
Thank you St. Anthony of Padua!

Yo La Tengo-Live!

I went to Ann Arbor to see Yo La Tengo perform with Bill, a new amigo from Michigan. To be honest, I've never heard them perform before. It reminded me of my new favorite band/artist/electronic music (not sure what to call it) Gnarls Barkley. Three down to earth musicians rocking inside a quaint movie theatre. Some of the sets were off the hook. Santana style guitar solos with funky, electronic melodies. I had some trouble listening to the lyrics, but I'm also not used to hearing live rock bands. These indie-rock stars brought a chilled atmosphere from Jersey and engaged the crowd with Tigers-Yankees banter and silly, Jay Leno street interview-style "how are you doing?" questions. Bill said it best that it is hard to find down to earth performers who rock out with their guitars. Sleep tried to hit me hard throughout the show, but I stayed awake. If you don't know me, I sleep through movies, board games, and parties. Thank Bill for exposing me to Yo La Tengo.

Risk, Emotions, Revolution

At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality.

Che Guevara, Man and Socialism in Cuba (1965)

It feels selfish writing into a blog about where I am at right now. Personal and out in the open. Diary entries about school, life, how I see the world around me, my gut reaction to the TV, individual (re)actions based in many communities so separate, you dare not keep them together. Code-switching [Thanks Doc for helping me remember!] between activism, family, neighborhood, friendship, collegiality, and partnerships. Reminds me of A Day in the Life Of... MTV style. Titillating the brain and regurgitating ideas, thoughts, emotions. This blog is a risk I am willing to take, with the same type of love, compassion, and (un)just emotions that come out from activism. Gavillero Words is a personal reflection on where I am at in the world, pushing me to think, write, feel out loud. Feels good to have our own version of inhaling/exhaling Cohiba smoke to get us through another day in personal struggle.

It scares me not being a part of a large community in struggle for peace and justice. Dearborn is smack dab in the middle of the suburbs outside of Detroit. Yes, I know universities promote the sense of individual response to the world without any promotion of action, change, or hope, but can we begin to think differently about where we are, where we live, where we want to be? It is always done in abstract (like my post) terms without challenging anything specific. This is my attempt to {creatively} narrate daily life right now as a student, family member, friend, book activist, and lover. Anything else would be a lie. Pontification of the Navel some might say. I just want to write again!

Gavillero Words

ga·vi·lle·ro
m. - stack (or row) of sheaves

INFLECTED FORMS:

gavillera - m. gavilleras - m. gavilleros - m.

http://yahooligans.yahoo.com/reference/
dict_en_es/entry?lb=e&p=num%3As11186

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Dominican Republic

OCCUPATION BY THE UNITED STATES, 1916-24

The most intense opposition to the occupation arose in the eastern provinces of El Seibo and San Pedro de Macorís. From 1917 to 1921, the United States forces battled a guerrilla movement in that area known as the gavilleros. The guerrillas enjoyed considerable support among the population, and they benefited from a superior knowledge of the terrain. The movement survived the capture and the execution of its leader, Vicente Evangelista, and some initially fierce encounters with the Marines. However, the gavilleros eventually yielded to the occupying forces' superior firepower, air power (a squadron of six Curtis Jennies), and determined (often brutal) counterinsurgent methods.

http://www.country-data.com/cgi-bin/query/r-3790.html

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Dominicans know what occupation means to them. Colonized by French and Spanish settlers, then the United States military (1916-1924 and 1965), murdered and destroyed in the name of saving innocent lives. The excuses: communism, barbarism, negritude. 2006: Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan, Lebanon. Attempt(ing/ed) in Venezuela, Cuba. All in the name of progress / stability / peace / open markets, justice fails to enter picture-falls flat on face. Like rows of sharp sheaves, communities rise from ashes like haunting ghosts. Alive with spirit, dead children in hand, blood fills Massacre River flow. Dajabón, Ouanaminthe, and the edges of soldiers' footprints. Samarra, Hamdania, Haditha, Mahmudiyah, and the sounds of bombs surrounding towns. All in the name of a nation.