Xicana en Narcolandia

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
William Congreve


For the past seven years I have been on this magical and intoxicating ride. When I first began this I was so confused and had no clue how it was going to look or be. It was just this idea, not even a concept, rather, it was just this illusion of what ifs and what nots. But, slowly, it began to form into the vision I had imagined. Perhaps. Here though two published books later, numerous conferences I have shown it, one documentary done and in my second production. I share with you a piece of this world I am in.

It wasn't easy. If people assume it was, if people think it was easy for me, it would be a terrible assumption. One whole year, entirely devoted to reading all and everything I could on this topic. Boxes and cases that still fill one of my storage rooms. Once in a while, I will remember something and go through the boxes, finding the one article or notes I wrote on xyz paper.

Memories of so many times I either successfully completed an interview, or spent hours out in a venue waiting for nothing to come out of it. Times when I was so tired but I never found a way to set up the interview (s) and so I had to go there and see if they would even allow me to get close enough to ask. Times I spent alone. Hours on the road. Running on the adrenaline that pushed me because I knew I was a woman, I was the type of woman who hated to lose.

How many times did I change the questions, how many times did the questions even seem relevant. Each memory sticking into my memory bank. I can tell you about each and every experience. My first time speaking to Javier Rosas. How shitty my spanish was. How I spent a long time on my phone looking up the words in spanish. How one of my best friend was there to see me do this nonsense for the first time. How significant it was for her to be there to see me begin this incredible work. And how much I appreciated the way they all had patience with this crazy Xicana. Who was all over the place.

No, this is by far not easy. It was not easy, but, it was with a lot of sweat, tears and determination that I was able to gather what I wanted to. And more. So much more.

The day I interviewed Jorge Valenzuela, he greeted me with this infectious smile. It touched his eyes. It made me smile. We laughed a lot, we took breaks. It was outside a venue here in Tucson. A cold and chilly night. While he laughed and we talked about so many things. I laughed. We joked. I inhaled his scent when he hugged me goodbye. Every so often he would send me a message asking me how my project was going, say something positive like "Ya vera, que le va a salir bien machin." Or he would simply ask me how I was and how things were going. When he passed away in that terrible car accident. I cried. I closed myself from the world for a couple of days and I thought of my friend Jorge. Who had just collaborated with Kevin Ortiz. And who was such a nice and talented young man. I mourned his passing.

As I was putting together the film, I got to his footage. While adding it I blurrily saw his face and smile while he spoke on this topic. With a heavy heart and tears spilling down my face, I smiled and hoped my friend Jorge was in a better place singing with other great artists.

So, this has been hard.

I suppose draining on the spirit and soul at times. Especially when people attack this cultural production and the performers. This is what angers me the most. To hear the way people make these assumptions or comments about these figures that they more than likely have never spoken to or tried to hear or know about their works. But they just say things matter of fact.

Momma bear Angie.

Have I ever told you about my brothers. La Septima Banda. Brothers. I never had any. Just a sister. A sister, whom in recent years has become my biggest supporter and who I admire for being an incredible woman who has endured cancer and has grown into her role as a grade school teacher. But never had I had a brother. So, now I had all these brothers. Whom I love with all my heart.

The type of friendship that goes beyond. With respect and admiration. I never miss any of their shows. I can't tell you how we became so close and how I loved them it just became. Or how much their support and their opinion matters. I go to them. I ask them to tell me if they find the work I am doing to be productive. Whether they feel I have captured what the message is. Or, if they think it should have more. Less.

Or my Tony. The ex-vocalist of La Septima, who is now creating his own path and way. How many times has this brother of mine picked me up. Told me to get my shit together. Or simply been someone who I can count on. He is one of the most humble and amazing human beings I have ever met in this world. I continue to be in awe of everything he is and everything he will make.

Firmes.

A word simply unknown to me until I began this work. "Siempre firmes." These words fall heavily on my shoulders. They sit there and remind me of these friendships and mutual respect and love I have grown into with these human beings who are not just my academic subjects. To say they are simply that is to discredit the concept of research. To deny the extent this work has done. To diminish the knowledge and the friendships we have formed.

So, maybe you might criticize this work. Maybe you might even hate it. And that's okay. But, if you ever assume or think I have not worked hard to gather this work or you think I have no idea what I am saying or want to convey. I will not accept it.

This work might challenge you. It might make you see the work of these great artists in a different light. Hell, it might even make you like the damn music. And if so. Thank you. The music sounds better with a beer, the music will incite you to dance. It will make you sing along. But above all, it will pull you in and it wont let you go.