Protests are happening in Dallas and Anaheim,
over the police involved deaths of two Latino men.
In both instances, the victim was unarmed.
Nobody can say why he was shot.
The communities are bleeding and shouting for
And in Anaheim, they’ve released the hounds;
hungry for the crowd, starved for a fight.
The officers take up target practice,
and raise hell on Earth, into the night.
Allí en Dallas, backup has been called,
as the squad car radio-chatter wonders:
Perhaps my memory fails me;
But I cannot remember the last time a
Chicano or Latino youth lit up a theater
or a school, with what everyone thought,
at first, were fireworks.
It’s time like these when I don’t know if you’re for me. We’ve been through a lot and after all this I feel like the universe bringing us together again is not just a coincidence.
I fought for so long to keep you close, and when I finally was able to let you go, you came around again. But this time you come with something more for me, with more to offer than wounding blows and more to leave me than stinging scars. I’m still afraid to let you in, to let you take a hold of me again. But this time I know more than to let myself go….because even if you come and I go, I will always have myself to love, respect, and grow.
But if you decide to stay…I’ll show you that my heart is true….
—Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza (1987)
Artist pays homage to L.A.’s unseen workers: Ramiro Gomez’s cardboard cutouts of nannies, gardeners, valets and housekeepers have appeared, in silent tribute, around the wealthy districts of the city.
Most pieces last a day or two if Gomez is lucky. Once, a valet parker he planted outside a lot near the Sunset Strip made it four days.
Gomez writes his contact information on the back of each piece so people can tell him where the art ended up. So far, no one has reached out.
At first it was tough to let go. He’d stand by for a while to see people’s reactions, then take the cutout down and lug it back home.
But then Gomez realized it was not his place to keep public art out of view.
So he learned to walk away.
Photo: Ramiro Gomez attaches his painting of a nanny against a cyclone fence in West Hollywood Park. Credit: Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times
yep I cried… see what I mean