La Sombra of Who I Am

La Sombra of Who I Am

Excerpt of poem:

 

I miss my grandmother's hands

watching them

as she washed the grape leaves

mixed the lamb with lemon juice

kneading with both hands in a large bowl.

Watching her hands

turn the pages of my herstory

to her nightlight as we slept,

I,

in the bed of my dead grandfather.

Watching sus manos

work endless cross word puzzles

not knowing how to love me

or even if she should

things she loved had a tendency to die.

Contact me for copy of full version of poem.

The shadow, the shade.  Se sento a la sombra del olivo.   

The poem “La Sombra of Who I Am” is multi-layered and encompasses many themes.  It speaks to the female legacy and culture handed down to the new generation. It reflects my longing to know my ancestors and attempt to reconcile that with my lesbianism. Growing up within one of the Southern California Latino communities, I grew up with Spanish-speaking friends and their families. Through the use of English, Spanish and Arabic, I have weaved together the fragmented pieces of culture that are buried within me to create an integrated experience.  In an attempt to bring my history clearly into the present moment I've strived within the context of this history to find future hope of new discovery and self-definition.

It was written on the eve before my trip to Palestine in 1994. I was writing about my feelings and expectations for the trip. I was going to meet and stay with my family in Ramallah, Palestine. Being Arab-American (as well as many other things), I did not expect to be welcomed into their world.  I did not plan on telling them that I was gay because being gay and being a gay parent can be very inflammatory. I was young and did not want to create any misunderstandings. It was a hard decision for an out-lesbian to make, but I wanted to ensure that I could find out more about my history and get to know my family first.    

My maternal grandfather was born in Palestine.  He and his brother sold bread, learned English at a Quaker school, and worked hard to purchase tickets to come to America.  Here my grandfather met my grandmother who was also from the Middle East.

This poem is a multi-faceted reflection of how I have lived in the shadow of my family, my ancestry, and sometimes in the shadow of myself. 

--- Micaela Kaibni Raen

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Note:  The full poem has been reprinted, on the Mitakuye Oyasin website:

 http://mitakuyeoyasinn.blogspot.com/2009/09/michaela-raen.html

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Artistic Authenticity

Artistic Authenticity

     True authenticity selects words of truth rather than protecting its own interest. It chooses to honor the ideas of the speaker rather than only what others want to hear. Authenticity for an Arab-American writer is often a pain staking struggle to find just the right definition of the chosen word…a meaning that is not easy to the tongue…chosen words that most often boomerang back in a twisted echo of malformed meaning.

     Being an Arab-American Lesbian Author who maintains authenticity is an artistic challenge when others do not want to hear what is being said. Being authentic emotionally in my work has been a lifetime struggle because authenticity does not include external or internal censorship.  

     Even well thought out words woven together to create a beautiful authentic tapestry, may  stream off the tongue only to  enter many different worlds….pushing through filters that only echo intended meaning.  Echoes…twisting my words instead of listening to them…. playing with the meaning to suit their needs and to meet their stereotypes. They assign meaning vocabulary in order to defend their already immovable positions.  Never once thinking that what I am saying is about me…my authentic thoughts…not about them or what they need to justify.

     My words are not anyone’s justification. Justifiers cannot bury me underneath their own words to build a foundation for their feet; my words were care-fully chosen and are not to be dug down to create a path under their shoes.  What I have to say…. may be sometimes unexpected and unwelcome; may be truthful and hard to hear; may point out the suffering of others that many do not want to see;  and may require fixed minds to be patient and flexible in thought.  

     The intention behind my words is to increase understanding and compassion between those inhabiting the space of opposition. I think authenticity is a journey that creates a richer artistic work, deeper and more understanding human relationships and that our authentic voices can out-speak the echoes to inspire others to be authentic as well.

Is it the right time to push for change?

When people ask me... Why are you advocating for international LGBT human rights...when we have many fights here in the U.S. like marriage equality, the dissolving of voting rights act protections, discrimination and trans inclusion, the right for LGBT parents to adopt through government systems?  It is not the right time for this discussion."

Is it ever the 'right time' to advocate for civil or human rights?  If activists of the past had decided to wait for the best time to protest many great movements, that have moved countries forward toward progress, would never had happened.  I advocate through my writing because the cause is something that I deeply care about and because the cause is just.  The effort to liberate others who are living in oppressive environments is central to creating a new vision of society that is built on equality.  The struggle is a touchstone for all of us, as a global society, if we are to move forward.

Personally, I work toward these ends because I can and many others can't for fear of violent retribution.  I make a choice to care about a discrimination that seems so overwhelming and impervious to change.  I have always believed in the power of peaceful social movements which put the needs of the whole above the needs of the one.  Maybe we are not global yet but I believe we will be someday so until then my message may help to build a foundation for future action.

Is it the right time to push for change?  We may never know; but in my view...it is always the right time to teach appreciation for diversity and to stand by a human ethic of equality and justice.


(Written on the day of the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington.)

A Voice for Peace

A Voice for Peace

One Writer:  Many Communities

     I see myself as…as an author whose work reflects a voice for peace; as an Arab-American woman speaking out for global human rights; as a mother promoting healthy living conditions for poor women and children; and as a lesbian advocating international equality for LGBT people.  The process of living in so many communities can be very tricky.

     Sometimes I don’t know which is more stressful: being “out” as a lesbian in the Arab -American community; being open about being of Arab descent in my local American community; being the “other mother” in the lesbian community; or being a writer about issues that affect poor women and children in the affluent profit-based world of publishing.

     In day-to-day life it as if people see me walking towards them and many labels, cultural assumptions, prejudices, judgments, and other misunderstandings hit me like a freight train.  Upon meeting someone it may take a while for them to get to know me or at least who I am in life.   I see my role in this situation as one that begets patience, compassion and repetition in educating others about me, about my diverse family structure and my cultural communities.   For example:

• In the heterosexual world, I often say things like, “No, I am not my son’s step mom, or the new wife of the ex-husband of his other mother. Well, my son has two mothers because I was married to his other mother.”

• In the LGBT community, I often say things like, “I was not married to a man. I have been a lesbian all of my life. I am both a lesbian and a mother.”

• In the Arab community, I say things like, “I can’t be quiet. I am a writer. That is what I do. Arab-American lesbians can live openly and publically if they chose too. It is their choice.  My parents accept and love me as I am. “

      I am not saying that everyone should live openly today. How we chose to live is a deeply personal choice that each person must make individually.  I only know that this is right for me.  No matter what the consequence I will face it when it comes. I feel that being honest about who I am is essential to my growth as a writer which affects the quality of the literary work I will eventually produce.  More than that, I believe that we need many small voices, artists and activists to be working toward the same goal so that one day our efforts will weave together providing the momentum to push our society forward…forward into a future path lined with peace, equality and compassionate human values.

   That means that I will write about topics unpopular and mix cultural themes in ways that upset some people. I may combine Palestinian themes with lesbian love stories, feature poems about refugee children going to school against farm crops being plowed over by Israeli bull dozers, or write about parenting in poverty and LGBT homeless youth in America. I cannot deny who I am when I write.

Writing Poetry in D.C.

Excerpt:
[For the full version of the poem, contact the author.]

Diaspora Winds

we, the sun-chasers, bound to the light

and zionist curfew the same

fight to chant the sun to rise over mountain

our love brought to life by the sun’s defiant reign

her lips inhale legacy’s inheritance

weighed down with

blood, grief, love

my heart sits closed as

sand slips through her fingers making a way to forgiveness

her exhale of air pushes slowly slipping passed the Hassidim’s sway

her prayer weaving what is left

into a somber brew of hope…less…ness

despair tinting the canvas of brutality, emerging

never accepting the moon

I fall into her

like thick mist between winter trees

when there were trees

she pushing the horizon’s light through shade

my breasts skim the expanse of her back

as my tongue finds her neck

she turns…

as the zahar brings hued-brilliance in defiance to wilting air

 

Clench

Clench

If flying fists of stone, once thrown,   
could talk like bullets...*

Excerpt:

 

IV.

disorder

discord

anomaly

anarchy

disunion

confusion

you are confused

muddled

mishmash

agitation

convolution

convulsion

melee

tumultuous

uproar

rumpus

revolution

we are revolution

 

*Note: Unarmed Palestinians try to protect themselves by throwing stones at the soldiers with machine guns. This poem was written from the point of view of the stone that was thrown.

[For the full version of the poem, contact the author.]

     Stones are often thrown by unarmed Palestinian children. The children are throwing stones and pieces of rubble from demolished homes for many reasons that are as personal as they are political. Some perhaps do it in protest to their current situation, some may think it will stop the sickening gas attacks, some do it as a way to honor those who have died, and some out of frustration with occupation and oppression. No matter what the personal or political reason, it takes courage to throw a stone at an armored tank or a machine gun bearing soldier just as it takes courage to fight for justice…and Palestinian children are born full of courage. 

     This poem is not just a series of words, but the words give voice to those who are silenced by others….and it is written from the perspective of the stone that was thrown. In many religions, we are taught that our emotions and thoughts go into our prayers. If our negative emotions can enter into our spiritual life, than it may also be true that those same emotions can enter into the natural world as energy. Building on this idea, it could be that before a stone is thrown it may have absorbed the energies of the one who has thrown it. The perspective of the stone that was thrown is explicated in this poem.

     Some of the imagery will bring the reader back to what it means to be human and part of larger humanity. For example, as you clench your fist, it looks like a stone -- you can throw it like a stone, like throwing a punch. The stone can symbolize the extension of the human body. You also have to clench your fist around the stone to throw it.  So the stone itself is like a clenched fist representing the fate of a displaced people. The stone, like a fist, is very symbolic; it echoes the release of anger, grief, land, loss and family.

     There are four parts to the poem.  In each section the stone is being thrown in a certain direction. The stone takes on the issues of the person throwing it -- of being dislocated, being evicted, being made homeless, becoming prey for the predator, and revolting against current injustice to hope for change…for peace.

     Ultimately, it is not just a stone…it is the muted voice of an occupied people. In the poem, the people do not have a voice but the stone does and it is given center stage to speak to the reader. Stones are more than a cry for help, a plea for a brighter future, or a symbol of courage and rebellion from oppression. The stones are prayers, the prayers of children for a better and brighter future; a future filled with hope. A future as of yet denied to them.

     In order to change their future, there needs to be a global revolution in everyone’s thinking on every side of colonization, occupation and peace. For the colonizer to free an occupied people, a change starting inside each one of us must reach out with compassion, understanding and grace. We must start listening to the prayers of children and learn from their wisdom.

Poetry Friends

Micaela Kaibni Raen and poet Dee Norwood discussing poetry in motion as the "other" mom

 
I am seemingly lost in poetry today with my friend, the poet, Dee Norwood.  We have a lot in common being lesbian parents, budding poets and community change agents working to make the world a better place each and every day.  I admire her tenacity, persistence and ability to laugh no matter what is going on around her.  Many poets have strong spirits but she is also a heroine in love .... for she is one of the most loving mothers I have ever seen and ever so patient with her children  The expansive ability to love and to laugh comes across in her poetics exhibiting a great talent that, over and over again, brings to us the important messages of our day.

Dee Norwood poem:

Upon the Occasion of our Falling in Love

We stand at the
Edge of a
Compatible cliff
Not knowing if
Our thick cord
Of commonalities
Will unravel into
Weak strands of coincidences
-a farce-
(the product of our fast forward into
everything we ever wanted)

And on a cue
That was never
Discussed we
Step softly off
And know we
Are falling into
Perfection

Fearless

Many people ask me if I am afraid of the public's reaction to my work, being lesbian, a mother, Arab-American, speaking out about the plight of Palestinian children...and more. The truth is that I have to believe that I am "me" for a reason and that reason is something of value to the world. Any act that can both integrate the fragmented pieces of myself and simultaneously empower and educate others is irresistible to me because that is the path that has unfolded in front of me. I must trust that path...that is my destiny. 

In an interview with NPR in 2013, internationally acclaimed author Manil Suri was asked about how he prepares to write a character like Jaz (the characterr is very sexual male who is also gay and Muslim) and whether he worries about backlash. Suri replied, "I sort of think — and this is something that is true of all novelists, hopefully — that writers have to be somewhat fearless."

Hearing this inspired me because I feel like, to walk on my authentic path, I will have to be fearless...have to be fearless over and over and over again.

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[Background note - Manil Suri's new novel, The City of Devi, opens with India and Pakistan on the verge of nuclear war. India is roiled by factional violence between Hindus and Muslims. Bombers strafe citizens, vigilantes settle scores, and terrorists set off dirty bombs around the country as Mumbai boils over with fear and fury. And if that's not enough, it's also a sex comedy.]        http://m.npr.org/news/Books/170585603