Interview of Juliana Aragón Fatula by
Xánath Caraza
Juliana
Aragón Fatula’s, three books of poetry are Crazy
Chicana in Catholic City (2nd edition), Red
Canyon Falling on Churches, winner of the High Plains Book Award for Poetry
2016, (Conundrum Press), and a chapbook, The
Road I Ride Bleeds (Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press). She has been
anthologized as a poet in Open Windows III, El Tecolote, Trance, and broadcast
on Colorado Public Radio’s Colorado Matters. She teaches writing workshops for
Bridging Borders and Writers in the Schools and believes in the power of
education to change lives. She is currently writing a mystery, The Colorado
Sisters.
Who is Juliana?
That’s
heavy. My mind goes crazy thinking of answers, but the truth is I’m a
small-town girl, raised in a large family, very poor, but not as poor as my
ancestors. My paternal great-grandfather was a Navajo sheep herder in Villa
Nueva, New Mexico in a village outside of Santa Fe. My maternal Navajo
great-grandfather was sold to the Gomez family in Alamosa, Colorado for food
and a horse when he was four-years-old.
I
was raised a Mexican-Americana, Mestiza, Mexica, Aztec in Southern Colorado. In
the seventies, I marched with the Denver Brown Berets and heard the civil
rights organizer, Corky Gonzales, speak as a political activist. I claimed the
label Chicana, Xicana, Xicanx. I honor my indigenous roots, my mestizaje, my
culture and history. I write about living between two worlds.
My
beginning as a poet. I embrace my mestizaje and spirituality as a true
American, indigenous. I remember where I come from. What’s the dicho, “How can
we know where we’re going, until we know where we’ve been?”
I drove
to Villa Nueva, New Mexico to gather stones and put my feet in the Pecos Rio. I
met locals and heard their stories. I entered the church where my
great-grandparents were married and my father baptized in 1917.
My
father’s homeland, like mine in Southern Colorado; has the same trees, soil,
grasses, herbal medicine, religion, language, culture. He landed in Tortilla
Flats. My second book, Red Canyon Falling on Churches, comes from those
cuentos, those stories, poemas. Born forty years apart: 1917 and 1957, we were
both brown skinned, brown eyed, brown hair, mestizo nose, Navajo and Mexicano
culture and language, religion and spirituality. My DNA is indigenous to this
land.
I
grew up with ten kids and one bike. We had to share. Growing up in Southern Colorado
with grandparents from Villa Nueva, New Mexico and Alamosa, Colorado in el
valle, I inherited brown skin, my last name, Aragón, my Spanglish, my culture
and myths.
We
never crossed the border, the border crossed us. My father migrated to Colorado
from New Mexico when he was ten and went to work; he had brothers and sisters
depending on him. My grandparents died very young and my father raised his
siblings. He was a loved father figure. My mother was the strongest and most
generous woman I ever knew. She grew up next to the river and rail road tracks
in a shack with dirt floors. My parents taught me to give back to my community.
How do you define yourself as a poet?
I define myself as a confessional poet and as
a member of the Macondo Foundation I follow the mission statement: a community
of poets, novelists, journalists, performance artists, and creative writers of
all genres whose work is socially engaged. Their work and talents are part of a
large task of community building and under-served communities through their
writing.
I
write about my truth, nature, addiction, creation stories with tricksters and
desert creatures. I aim to make my audience laugh, cry, and dream. The first
decade as a writer was an experiment. Now that I'm 'seasoned,' I teach writing
workshops, write blogs on writing, conduct literary interviews, and review my
favorite books. I feel like it's ok to call myself a writer now.
As a child, who first introduced you to
reading? Who guided you through your
first readings?
I was
introduced to reading by my older sister, Irena. She was ten years older than
me and since our family was so large, she was given the responsibility to watch
over me. She took me to the library for my books. I never imagined someday I
would be a writer. My sister has been my guardian angel for my entire life.
Even now she sends me blessings from heaven. I often wonder what her life could
have been like if she had the same choices I had.
I
was the first in my family to graduate college. She would have been incredibly
proud of me as would my parents. They believed in me even when I lacked
confidence in myself; they knew I had special talents and power to change
things with an education. There’s nothing more powerful than an educated
Chicana. I am Chicana Woman, hear me as I raise some hell.
How did you first become a poet?
I
was born a poet. I have a very twisted sense of humor and sometimes strangers
think I’m sonsa, but it’s just an act. I’m always acting. I’m odd. I’m
mysterious. I’m curious. I’m telepathic. I’m psychic and psycho. Ja ja aja ja.
I crack myself up when I get on a roll. I’m ridiculous and irreverent and
righteous and rotten and refined and riddled with guilt. But my writing; my
poems are my salvation. They are my medicine. I’ve been healed with the power
of words.
My
path has always been about beauty and truth. I probably shouldn’t tell you
this, but, I didn’t write poetry until I was fifty. Ten years ago, I enrolled at Colorado State
University-Pueblo, to become a Language Arts teacher in my hometown. I chose
creative writing as my minor and began my introduction to Ethnic Literature. I
read poetry by the icons, Sandra Cisneros, Joy Harjo, Leslie Marmon Silko,
Sherman Alexie, Lorna Dee Cervantes, Maya Angelou and many others, but it was
the poems written by Chicanas that inspired me to write about my culture,
language, and heritage. I grew in four years of Chicanx Literature, Ethnic
Studies, Shakespeare, Creative Writing: Drama, Poetry, Fiction, and Non-Fiction
Nature Writing.
Where were your first poems written?
If
I’m honest they were written when I was in junior high school. I didn’t know
how funny I used to be until my best prima/soul sister gave me the notes I
passed to her every day in the halls at school. I was hilarious. It was like
getting in a time machine and going back to my teens. I was wild and
unconcerned about what anyone said about me. I wore what I wanted, I walked
where I wanted to go, and I said what I wanted to say. I was the character from
Crazy Chicana in Catholic City. I wrote in my journal every day. I was a young
woman in love with being in love. I kept all the letters from my loved ones and
when I read them now, I always cry tears of joy at the memories of them in my
heart. I’ve been very blessed.
My
first poems were published in the literary magazine at CSU-Pueblo, The Hungry
Eye, and on the webpage for CSU Pueblo’s Hispanic Cultural Experience: A
Collection of Poetry, Essays, and Short Stories from Pueblo, Colorado. These
poems began as performance pieces for the Denver Indian Thespians and El Centro
Su Teatro in 1992. Those stories morphed into poems.
When did you start to publish? And, what impact did seeing your first
publications have on you?
I
published in literary magazines in college, won poetry contests, and published
several poems in anthologies. Several of those poems were later published in my
first book of poetry, Crazy Chicana in
Catholic City. My first book of poems was published because of an
independent study course I took with my mentor, David Keplinger. Never did I
imagine the publisher would send me a contract and publish my manuscript, but I
gained confidence with each publication and grew to be a prolific writer.
My
first book arrived on my doorstep; I realized how much hard work I put into it
and how taking risks had proved successful.
I decided to write my second manuscript, Red Canyon Falling on Churches. My publisher, Caleb Seeling and
editor, Sonya Unrein, at Conundrum Press in Denver promoted my books, arranged
readings, and gave me a voice. Being published changed my perception of myself
and gave me courage to help other beginning writers. It gave me the incentive
to teach writing workshops to at-risk-youth, like the Bridging Borders
Workshops I teach in Pueblo.
Do you have any favorite poems by other
authors? Or stanzas? Could you share some verses along with your
reflection of what drew you toward that poem/those stanzas?
Maya
Angelou inspired me with “Phenomenal Woman.” One of my favorite verses:
Now
you understand/Just why my head’s not bowed. /I don’t shout or jump about/Or
have to talk real loud. /When you see, me passing, /It ought to make you proud.
“And
Still I Rise”, and “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” and her quote is engrained
in my head, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will
forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
An
essay written by Gloria Anzaldúa, “Linguistic Terrorism” awoke in me a rebellious
voice. “...We are your linguistic nightmare, your linguistic aberration, your
linguistic mestizaje, the subject of your bruja. Because we speak with tongues
of fire we are culturally crucified. Racial1y, cultural1y, and linguistically
somas huerfanos - we speak an orphan tongue.
“Chicanas
who grew up speaking Chicano Spanish have internalized the belief that we speak
poor Spanish. It is illegitimate, a bastard language. And because we
internalize how our language has been used against us by the dominant culture,
we use our language differences against each other.”
Shakespeare
changed the way I write, “We know what we are, but know not what we might be.”
And Sherman Alexie inspired me to interject humor into my writing. “In the
Great American Indian novel, when it is finally written, all of the white
people will be Indians and all of the Indians will be ghosts.”
A
letter I received from Sandra Cisneros last year after she read my second book,
Red Canyon Falling on Churches, changed my life in small and big ways; she
wrote to me, “…Think what light you are transmitting to others as you walk your
own path. A lantern leading others on their path. This is sacred work. May you
always be this light. Abrazos.” Sandra.
I cried when I read that line. She moved me. I changed. I grew. She
inspired me to work with other writers.
I
was invited to join The Stiletto Gang, a group of women writers on a mission to
bring mystery, romance, humor, and high heels to the world; and Women Who Write
the Rockies, literary women writing in the shadow of the Rockies: a community
of like-minded women sharing news, readings, publications, and reviews. I’m
learning from these women how to write for an internet audience on these
websites. I’m enjoying the blog experience and reaching a new group of readers
who might not otherwise ever know my work.
What is a day of creative writing like for
you? Where do you write? How often?
It’s
midnight and I’m in my kitchen writing, listening to Bob Marley. My muse
refuses to let me sleep during full moons. It’s a red moon tonight. I’ve tried
staying in bed but I toss and toss until I get up and go to work.
My
writing space: I love writing in hotel rooms, coffee shops, in my back yard, in
the wilderness in my twenty-four-foot camper. My husband, Vince, and I go
camping in the Colorado wilderness with our Border Collie, Big Bad Baby Boy
Bear. My husband hikes with Bear and gives me my space to write or read.
I
write in my back yard under the grape arbor, and my sun/moon room are also
favorites spots. I have my Chicana Garden with fruit trees, ivy and wood vine
climbing the fences. The backyard is filled with birdhouses, bird baths, bird feeders.
The wind blows the twenty-five chimes for each year we’ve been married, and
birds sing along. It’s a magical place. Colorado fresh air and sunshine, even
on winter days. I make a fire in the woodstove, heat up the porch, brew some
chai, read a book, and watch the snow fall.
If
I'm real lucky, I escape to the mountains and the wilderness of the Rocky
Mountains and the Continental Divide. Up there, no phones, cell service,
television, nosy neighbors or worries. I write, read, nap, eat, sleep, wander
through fields of wildflowers. Watch the fish jump in the lake. And I write and
write and write and write. I’m hypnotized. I fall into a pattern of waking and
writing and writing until I can't keep my eyes open every night. I feel like a
writer. I feel productive. I feel fierce.
When do you know when a poem is ready to
be read?
I
always read my work out loud. Sometimes I record it and listen to it playback
several times. I ask friends if I can try a poem out on them for their
reaction. I read their body language. Sometimes it’s positive feedback,
sometimes, not so much. If I hear the poem and it sounds like music, if it has
the power to move someone to laugh or cry, if it makes me want to perform it on
stage in front of an audience, I know in my heart it’s ready.
Could you describe your activities as
poet?
I won
the High Plains Book Award for poetry, 2016, in Billings Montana. My husband
and I drove to Montana with an invitation as a finalist. I met some great poets
and writers and fell in love with Billings. If I hadn’t won the prize, I still
would have come out a winner because of the experience. It elevated me to a new
high. The feedback from the judges allowed me to accept that I am an
award-winning poet.
I
had just had knee replacement surgery; however, I didn’t let that stop me from
attending and when I won, I dropped my cane and danced up on stage like a
lunatic. The audience laughed at my enthusiasm and cheered for my first win as
a published poet.
It
gave me confidence to submit a third manuscript, a memoir of poems: Gathering
Momentum. It’s unpublished but I’m proud to have finished it; it was the most
difficult thing I ever wrote. I included my Mother’s recipes so they would
never be forgotten. I’m preserving my family’s histories.
I
love performing and maybe that’s why I didn’t begin writing until I was in my
fifties. I was having too much fun being on stage. My writing began as a
performance artist. I wrote short cuentos about my family. Some sad, some
funny, some tragic, some hopeful. I never felt like a poet. I felt like a
storyteller.
In
the nineties, I worked with El Centro Su Teatro in Denver, Colorado. I learned
the tradition of taking the word to the people. I became very active in the Chicano
community. Su Teatro organized and attended protests carrying picket signs;
Justice for Janitors, Amnesty International, and of course the United Farm
Workers. We sang protest songs; they had Aztec dancers in full regalia. One
time we drove from Denver to Pueblo, Colorado and joined the American Indian
Movement to protest Columbus Day.
In
1995, I joined the Latin Locomotions, Sherry Coca Candelaria and Manuel Roybal,
Sr. from Su Teatro. We traveled to the Persian Gulf to perform for the troops.
We toured five weeks and entertained in Sicily, the Azores, Diego Garcia, and
the United Arab Emirates. It was my first time out of the country. I dreamed of
traveling all my life and now I was being loaded on cargo planes and flying
across the Atlantic, the Mediterranean, the Persian Gulf, and the Indian
Ocean. The Department of Defense paid me
to sing, dance, and tell stories for Hispanic Awareness in the Military.
What’s something that helped to shape your
outlook to life?
The
good and bad experiences molded me in to a strong, independent, out-spoken
woman who is fearless. I’ve faced hard times and remained a survivor, never a
victim. As a teenager, I was headed for prison or death. I was loud, rebellious, a tomboy; many of my closest
friends I grew up with are dead from their lifestyle choices.
I
chose to have a baby at fifteen, drop out of high-school, go to work and thanks
to Planned Parenthood, I raised my son as a single parent and had pre-natal
healthcare. My son is in his early forties; I turn sixty this year. Having
access to healthcare through Planned Parenthood changed me. It shaped my
future.
With
an education, I became independent with a job and a steady income. I worked for
many decades in Denver and climbed the corporate ladder. I was not corporate
material. I’m a performance artist. I wanted more than a job and a desk. I
never gave up on that dream. I made it happen. Pure will power.
I
returned to school and graduated from Colorado State University – Pueblo in
2008 and became an educated Chicana. My son claims I should have a Ph.D.
because I’ve been going to school his entire life. That’s not a fact; but it is
true. Not an alternative fact, but a
truth. I love learning and I am a
lifelong learner. I love teaching and I teach my students to love learning.
My
son gave me a purpose and made me rock steady. I became focused and escaped the
cycle of poverty. My husband would say, “We’re poor, but we have love and
kindness in us.” We’ve both been sober
for twenty-seven years. We support each other; we are best friends.
Could you comment on your life as a
cultural activist?
I’m extremely proud of my activism with
at-risk-teens. I’ve taught hundreds of students in Southern Colorado through
the Writers in the Schools Program with Colorado Humanities. Some are in high
school and college now. I remain close with many of them through social media. Gotta
love Facebook, que no? Sometimes they ask me for advice. They lovingly call me,
Mama Fatula. I don’t have grandchildren, so I gave all the love inside me to my
students. Many of them hugged me every day. I listened to them. Some of them
needed more than a teacher. I mentored many students who bravely walked out of
the closet and into the sunshine as proud members of the LGBTQ community. I’m so
proud of them. I’m proud of the students who invited me to their high school
graduation. They’re in college now; they are the future of this country. They
changed me. They taught me more than I taught them.
I
tell my students about my first protest.
I led the first-sit in to protest the school’s policy of forbidding the
female students to wear blue jeans. In 1852, Emma Snodgrass was arrested for
wearing pants. Women protested until women were allowed to wear pants. When I
tell my students this they are shocked.
In
1972, my fellow female students protested to wear blue jeans instead of
pantsuits. I lead the female students and they followed me; I didn’t know then
I was leading. Today, I understand the power of being able to express myself
and communicate my reality through spoken word.
What project/s are you working on that you
would like to share?
I’m
a storyteller; and a very good listener. I’m writing my first murder mystery
because I love a challenge. I’ve been writing The Colorado Sisters for the last
year. I wanted to see what else there
was inside my head. Turns out there’s plenty. But getting up every day and
making something out of nothing takes dedication, work, and talent. I learned that you can’t write a book, if you
don’t sit down and write.
I’m
creative and weave stories and characters like a movie inside my head. I love
writing dialogue and using humor in my writing to curb the edge of the murder,
the nitty gritty of the story, the dark secrets we all have, the criminal
element of detective work, and finally the investigative work can’t be just
evidence, testimony, and undercover work; there must be balance with the
characters’ lives because in real life, we have up and down days and have funny
things happen all around us, if we pay attention.
What advice do you have for other poets?
My
good friend, Manuel, always says, “Everywhere you go; there you are.” Never
forget that bit of wisdom. It might save your life someday. Surround yourself
with smart, talented, generous people like Manuel, who have a social conscience
and are activists. My writing gives me a voice and a medium to reach people. It’s
the same for my writer friends. Read lots of books and write lots of poems and
then read books about writing poems and write poems and read books written by
poets you admire and then write more poems.
One
piece of advice, don’t ever change your voice or your truth to make someone
else happy. Don’t change a word if you feel it is your truth. You’re not
writing for you parents, siblings, partner, children. Write for yourself and
write the kind of poems you want to read. And attend lots of book readings,
writing conferences and writing workshops, and network with everyone you meet.
Keep those connections current through social media. Share your story with new
writers and encourage them to write from the heart not the head.
Remember
you can’t please everyone; and not everyone will like you, or your poems. But
for those who do appreciate your writing, you tell them how much their feedback
feeds your soul. You meet your readers and audience and share your stories
about how you became a writer. You teach poetry writing workshops to others and
encourage young and old to write, write, write.
What else would you like to share?
I
have fears: I’m afraid of drowning. I’m scared of la Llorona and el Cucuy, I’m
afraid of the future under a misogynist, xenophobic, racist, President and
cabinet. I’m frightened by the racism that exists in our country. And finally,
I’m afraid of Climate Change and the future of our Mother Earth. However, I
have faith in the young people; I have faith, and like Maya Angelou sings, “And
still I rise.”
Meet the three protagonists of this excellent novel: Pajarita, Eva and Salomé.
