Focus on a small press: Pilgrimage

If you're a writer seriously attempting to get your stories or articles an audience, you can easily get drowned by the requirements of the publishing world.

Keeping a log of every story and where, when and how it was received (rejected), or comments an editor or agent might have sent. There are deadlines, submission requirements and heavy questions like: do they want Spanish words italicized or underlined? Or not?

This last week I was even given specs of a novel I should write if I wanted to get published. (None of my five completed MSS fit this person's expectations.) Of course, there are few guarantees in the world of publishing, so even if I were to write such a speced novel, it might only become the sixth to populate my files.

Anyway, in all the mayhem of publishing activities, one can forget what one is doing, what one is part of, and what the whole purpose of this hobby, business or passion is about. It's about writing. Creating. A story or poem that wants to see the light of the printed page. Characters or verse that have a need to let themselves be known, watched, read and maybe even liked.

A small press like Pilgrimage can help set you back on track. It's been around for years doing its thing. It's not a very complicated, deadline-driven, heavily textually demanding thing. It's a print magazine. With stories. Here's the website description.

"Pilgrimage is:

• a small magazine living the big questions

• a community-in-print serving an eclectic fellowship of readers, writers, artists, naturalists, contemplatives, activists, seekers, adventurers, and other kindred spirits

• a place to tell the stories that matter

• an invitation to inward and outward exploration

• and an appreciation of the way home"

"Pilgrimage, founded in 1976, is published three times a year in Pueblo, Colorado. We feature the work of writers and artists in and beyond the Greater Southwest. Help sustain a good thing."

And just because it's a small press, doesn't mean it's of small stature. The editor-publisher Maria Melendez has credentials: Latino Poetry Review and Momotombo Press editorship; Utah State University and Saint Mary's College teacher; community outreach poet-teacher and two anthologies with California Poets in the Schools; writer-in-residence UC Davis Arboretum; founding editor Swan Scythe Press; poetry collection How Long She'll Last in This World (University of Arizona Press, 2006), Honorable Mention 2007 International Latino Book Awards; finalist 2007 PEN Center USA Literary Awards; poetry collection Flexible Bones from University of Arizona Press (2010); her works in Altar, Orion Afield and Isotope, NPR's American Democracy Project, Barrow Street, International Quarterly and Ecological Restoration. You get the picture.

You can click here to visit the website and order current or past issues. The website is as uncomplicated as the magazine: black type on white page, all that writing amounts to, in the end, at least until a reader transforms it. About the only thing I wish is that there were more examples available of poetry and fiction they've published. If you've "lost your way home" or want to "help sustain a god thing," here's the link to their guidelines.

Now I'm going to go back to writing. Something. And take my time.

Es todo, hoy

RudyG

The "They don't want Us here" argument

What's all below doesn't directly reflect the above title, but it came to mind as I composed this.

"They don't want Us here."

The phrase comes up whenever racists, xenophobes, English-onlys and Limbaughers rear their little minds to fill the Internet, town halls or periodicals with opinions inevitably blaming immigrants (legal or otherwise), Spanish-speakers or just plain old U.S.-born, English speaking Chicanos for a laundry list of economic, social or educational failings in this country. On the surface, yes, it sounds, looks and smells like "They don't want Us."

I don't buy the argument, nor the victim-mentality it encourages, because it's a simple reaction to an immediate, specific situation, and no matter how accurate it may be, it fails to include the larger, more complex picture.

They problem lies in the signification They. Without proposing a new conspiracy theory or resurrecting a new one, we tend to throw They around to refer to distinct groups, when we might be better off always thinking of it as the distinct whole--U.S. society, meaning to include the predominant (and some fringe) groups, segments of the population, agencies, governmental bodies, body of law, philosophy and discourse.

When we include all that as They, I'd argue They do want Us here. Someone has to maintain the U.S. hotel toilets, motel bedrooms, Calif. gardens, housing developments and restaurant kitchens at a low enough wage and without drawing down on their tax contributions or good-old-Americans will go without. The food won't get harvested and delivered to those restaurant tables without Us. Manipulating the politics and repressing the economies of Latin America has kept that flow of all types of labor immigrants at an economically profitable level for most of our history.

And after we're here, They still want Us here. The racist, anti-immigrant rhetoric should be interpreted to mean, They want Us here as less-educated scapegoats, the kind that will suffer inhuman abuse in all the verbal, physical and psychological ways that America is so adept at devising. Our norms here are that it's okay to cut off funds to immigrant children, accuse their parents of being members of an ignorant race (sic), while at the same time employing Us at substandard wages without benefits, and even recruiting Us to fight the Iraq-Afghan-Pakistan War.

Homeland Security should erect a monstrous billboard on the border, facing northward, stating:

"Don't leave us. We need your labor and sweat and without you we might realize we're all fokked because we'd have to find new scapegoats and there are enough Muslims around to take all the abuse."

So, the next time your Chicano or mexicano friend says, "They don't want Us here," please try to educate them.

For a good exposure and a set of some real moronic responses, go to "Most Oregon schools slow to get English learners proficient" to see how the Oregon government thinks "punishing" school districts for under serving English language learners can be best implemented by providing even less money for that.

To read about a state notorious for never having understood how to educate Us (Chicano and mexicano kids), and where for years teachers have fought against the myopic standards-based CSAP exam, go to Colorado's new educational standards stress strategic thinking. Dumping the old one doesn't mean a new one will be any better, but the state has at least added the concept of "thinking" to its dialogue. Would they'd extend the concept to Us where education is involved.

Go here for a review/interview of La Bloga's contributor Lydia Gil and her book Mimi's Parranda that's posted on the website Spanglish Baby. It has everything to do with what They should see in Us.

And BTW, you only have today and tomorrow to win a copy of that book!

Almost lastly, Go to the Jim Lopez/Ty Gorton's Antique Children website to read a stranger adult story featuring a kid, written by yours truly. It's not so much about a non-Anglo kid as much as it's about myopic attitudes toward children.
(Click on the menu bar Subjects and scroll down to Fiction.)

A Grain of Sand is the second one.
Leave comments here to let me know your review of that one.

In the spirit of the coming year's-end, and my unsubstantiated ranting above, and your determination to make the new year different, I invite guest posts on that topic. Leave a comment below if you have something to submit.

RudyChG

Silence

How does one prepare for silence? Should one practice for a few hours in the weeks leading up to a retreat? Or is it best to go cold turkey? Will there be withdrawal symptoms? An ensuing case of logorrhea?

I'm an old hand at silence, I tell myself. I beat the sun almost every morning so I can bask in the silence of the pre-dawn hours. Yet I long for this retreat . . . I want to get away from the proximity of technology, from living under the flightpath of a suburban airport, from neighbors mowing the lawn before the school bus shows up, from a voice so sweet and persistent that even writing about wanting to get away from it makes me feel guilty, I want to get away from guilt, from fear, from words.

It feels odd to pack a bag for a retreat. I think that if I just show up, it would be enough. But

I still pack a change of clothes, walking shoes, a shawl and a notebook . . . (So much for wanting to get away from words!)

It's an easy drive to the abbey. Just a couple of hours from Denver, yet a universe away. The nuns gave precise directions because the sign for the abbey seems to mysteriously appear and disappear from the main road. But it's there. Left at the dirt road . . . A sign warns of "gentle cows" on the road. A llama looks up; no cows around.

The abbey is a masterpiece of restraint and simplicity. It is one with the landscape, its walls, the color of dust. The retreat house is almost a mile up the road. There are lots of hiking trails we're told, and lots of rattlesnakes too. I'll be sticking to the dirt road.

At the entrance of the retreat house there's a table with brochures about "Living with Wildlife" and order forms for "Abbey Beef". There's a bowl with bottles of sunscreen, mosquito repellent and badges that read "Keeping silence". All the rooms have names. I choose "Throne of Wisdom" because the linens are yellow and it has two windows. There's a small bed, a desk with a Bible, a closet, and a mirror. I look out the window and see two nuns on an ATV headed for the fields, their white veils flying high, surrendering to nature. It's perfect.

I don't even need to wear the "Keeping silence" badge. There are only three of us here. We know we're not talking. But still, dinnertime is awkward. We sit at a small table where our meal is served. We pass the food to each other, the water, the bread. But we look at the food. To look at each other in silence would've been too weird. I can't stand it and leave early. Silence is much easier when you're alone.

The next morning, at 7am, I get ready for lauds. And so do they. We walk in silence down the dirt road and it feels good. Our feet, such strangers to silence, hush the mind... In the chapel, the prayers are chanted, back and forth, left and right. Sometimes the sisters stand up and bow deeply from the waist, straighten up and sit back down. The rhythm seems to spill into their day. And day into night. It's all so simple, so reassuring. I treasure my time here. Every second of it.

In the end, no rattlesnakes crossed my path. Neither did I see a bear or a coyote, although they're known to roam in the vicinity. There were no great visions or realizations, no epiphanies or apparitions. Yet, I left with a peaceful feeling.

How odd. Looking for silence, I found a rhythm.

Dino tracks, petroglyphs & our kids' eco heritage

This posting is intended for school-age children. Please pass it along or read it to them. Depending on the age of the child, you may want to read it in parts, not in one sitting. It's about our leaving their heritage intact.

Dear American student,
I made this for my Denver first-graders, but I thought other children might enjoy it.

If you like dinosaurs, the American wilderness, bears, pumas and deer, or the Santa Fe Trail, Native American or Southwest history, you might enjoy these photos.

My wife Carmen, my ACD Manchas and I just visited southeast Colorado. In this first photo you can see it's not all flat and empty.

Even the trees like to be photographed or drawn, like this one that I named the Guardian Tree. Does he look like he's trying to protect something? He is--something special I'll tell you about in a minute.

Here's our dog Manchas, which means Spots, after our hot and humid hike. Three Colorado Park Rangers led us into really deep grass to show us petroglyphs the ancient American Indians left here over 4,000 years ago. Manchas had a hard time 'cause he was shorter than the grass and a little too fat.

Here's some petroglyphs we found, but they're hard to see. On the left in the middle of the rock is maybe a snake symbol. In the middle is something like a handprint. To the right and below is maybe a hunting symbol with three prongs, like a fork.

Here's another petroglyph the Ancients left. What does it remind you of?

After Manchas rested and drank tons of water, we got to the top of Picketwire Canyon. It was really called the French word Purgatoire, but the American settlers couldn't pronounce that, so they changed the name.

The French called it Purgatoire, like Purgatory, because some settlers died there. Ask an adult if they can pronounce Purgatoire. (A hint for you: say poo-got-wah real fast.)

Anyway, we started into the canyon. It was hot, over 100 degrees! We wondered if we'd meet a mountain lion and hoped he had already eaten. Manchas especially hoped so.

The first thing we met was the tree I called Leaner. He looked like he was ready to fall asleep in the deep grass.

But all around us were also many living trees like junipers that love growing together on the sides of hills.

This tree I called Pointer was showing us the way to the dinosaur tracks.

This spider was one of the more colorful ones who wanted us to take him home with us, but we left him there.

The next thing we saw was not a mt. lion or a bear, but it did remind me of a swan, so that's what I named him.

We finally made it to these ruins of the Dolores Mexican church built in 1871. It was made from the trees that grow there and from rock. A lot of the places and rivers in this area still have Spanish names like Campo, Carrizo, Tecolote and Chacuaco.

My wife Carmen found a gravestone that had the name Maria de la Cruz Abeyta who was only a baby when she died. There's a sign there that says to leave the cemetery alone, so we did.

Manchas kept trying to leave us to get in the shade but we wouldn't let him 'cause that's where the rattlesnakes like to cool off. But finally we found a rock that the wind or water had hollowed out like a cave. Manchas was very happy to guard our backpacks. We rewarded him with cheese, crackers and ham and some dog treats.

A little later we met a tree I named Armless. He's just like some people who had an accident, but I thought he had a lot of character.

After more than 5 miles, we got to the Purgatoire River. (Did you try to pronounce it correctly? Did you do better than an adult?)

You may be too young to hike 5 miles today, but one day you could get there, if Southeast Colorado hasn't been taken away from us. I'll tell you about that later.

Manchas wasn't the only one who was extremely happy to see the water. We had to carry a gallon for each of us to drink. And we had to carry food, snakebite kit, and stuff for emergencies. Only Manchas could drink from the river. Pick up a gallon of water and think about how hard it would be to carry it for 5 miles.

On our way down we met a man and his son who'd come all the way from Florida to see the dinosaur tracks. The boy told us he was disappointed 'cause there wasn't much to see. These were the prints they saw. They're fossils of where Brontosaurus stepped in mud, and they're huge! Plus they're 65 million years old.

We asked him if they'd crossed the river to see the best ones. He said no. It didn't make sense they had traveled 1600 miles but didn't want to cross 60 feet of river to see the best dinosaur footprints in the United States. What would you have done?

We searched the river to find a safe place to cross. We were lucky because two other people who were there found this spot for us. It wasn't deep if we followed the white line of the foamy water. Can you guess where we stepped?

The prints on that side were much deeper and there were many more than on the first side.

Paleontologists (scientists who study dinos and fossils) think these were made by an Allosaurus. If you don't know what they looked like, find it online or in a book. Look at their feet and see if they match this footprint.

My wife Carmen put her feet into two of the Allosaurus footprints. Hers are maybe bigger than yours but they're tiny compared to the dino's.

She sat down next to one so you can see how big it is.

These next tracks might have been made by a baby brontosaurus maybe your age. The dark parts are from water in the holes.

I really like this print because it reminded me of something. What does it remind you of?

From the shadows we knew it was getting late. We had to leave 'cause there's no overnight camping allowed in the canyon. That's to protect this park from people who want to take the dinosaur prints and petroglyphs from us.

You know what kind of people would do that, don't you?

Guess what? There's also government people who want to do that. It's the Army. I can't explain all that to you here. Your parents or teachers can explain it if they go to this website.

As we left the river, a tree I named Dancer helped us celebrate our completing a great adventure.

Above Dancer, on the hill, I thought I heard a mother bear growling to her cub--3 times! I wasn't scared because bears don't like barking dogs and Manchas can really bark.

We did see deer, rabbits, jackrabbits, beautiful orange orioles, hawks, turkey buzzards. And we heard owls and coyotes when we camped at night. If you've heard them, how did they make you feel?

What I heard and saw were animals that are helpless to stop the Army from taking away this wonderful land from you, the children. Adults can go to the website to see what to do about saving everything wonderful in the area. Maybe you can think of more that even a school child can do.

For instance, you can send a SASE (#10 business size), and they'll send you two bumper stickers for free. Then you can paste them on your new car.
You parents or teachers know what this means and here's the address to write to:
Pinon Canyon Opposition Coalition
P.O. Box 137
Kim, CO 81049

This photo is one of my favorites 'cause it reminds me of how old all these treasures are. We should keep them safe from being bombed or trampled by tanks or helicopters. What do you think?

As we drove home we passed these gigantic wind turbines that provide electricity without adding so much to the pollution. I wondered if even they would be around in a few years.


This was one of the last of many signs that we saw in this part of the country. It shows that many people that live there will not agree to give up their land.

Here is my final photo of the one I call Great Dark Tree. If Americans don't stop the Army from taking over this corner of the state, everything around here may one day look like him.

People make fun of me taking photos of dead trees and giving them names. But the dino prints aren't alive either. Do you think I'm silly for doing that?

We didn't get to see bears or pumas or eagles. Hopefully, you will be able to if this treasured land is saved. And if you get to go, watch out for Dancer, Pointer and my other tree friends. If you're not old enough you can only have your teacher or parent send me a message to let me know. I hope to hear from them.

Rudy Ch. Garcia, teacher

Other websites with historical and scientific info on SE Colorado:
Colorado Tourism Office
The National Trust for Historic Preservation

These next few days are critical if you want to prevent the loss of historical, scientific and environmental treasures of SE Colorado. Go to
http://www.pinoncanyon.com
to see what the U.S. Senate can do to prevent a great loss of our multicultural heritage.