Latine poet panel discusses cultural identity through poetic craft
October 18, 2023 by Jimmy Hu in Student Life - Washington University in St. Louis
The Center for the Study of Race, Ethnicity, and Equity invited several Latine poets for a panel discussion on Latine identity titled “¿Quién soy? y ¿Quiénes somos?” (“Who am I? Who are we?”) in celebration of Latine Heritage month, Oct. 12.
The panel featured Honduran-American poet Roy Guzman — whose poem collection “Catrachos” tells Central American stories of pain, solidarity, and resilience — and Chicano poet Matt Sedillo, named the “best political poet in America.” Poet Yesenia Montilla was invited but was unable to attend.
These poets’ distinct Latin American identities brought diverse perspectives into their viewpoints. They dissected the Hispanic identity via their poems and stories on Latin American loss, suffering, and inequity. They affirmed the identity of the Latine community on campus and gave students outside of the community an opportunity to learn more about Hispanic culture and history.
Roy Guzman started the discussion by reading “My Great Grandmother’s Egg Thief,” an English poem in “Catrachos.” Sprinkled throughout with Spanish words, the poem ends with the nostalgic phrase “all of us hungering for love,” telling the Latin American experience of loss and sufferance with references to cultural traditions.
Matt Sedillo recited his poem “Pilgrim,” which ties the Chicano experiences to a larger context of immigration, drawing inspiration from events in U.S-Mexican history to demonstrate how “mexicanidad” is defined in the U.S.
The discussion segued into an analysis of the title itself, as the two poets shared insights on how the Latine community should interpret its identity.
Sedillo recounted his experience of researching “the national interpretation of Chicanos in Mexico,” in which he saw his Latine identity redefined through the lens of Mexican nationals.
“For [Latines], we are always trying to become more Mexican — or basically, our more authentic self,” he said.
Upon interacting with more and more Mexican nationals, he confirmed that Mexicans are indeed contemplating Chicano identity in the U.S. He jokingly attributed his Chicano identity to this contemplation, saying, “they think about me, therefore I am.”
Guzman shared a poem, which he wrote on his plane ride while contemplating the issue of Latine identity.
“‘Bueno, soy Roy’ (Well, I am Roy) / that trill ‘r’ / I’m that,” he read. In this first line of the poem, he emphasized the Spanish pronunciation of his name, which features the “r”-trill, and recognized this special sound as the quintessence of his Latine identity.
“I’m one of the caretakers of sounds, rhythms, and ways of dancing in the world,” he recited. His poem called the Latine people the caretakers of the “past,” of the “future, of the ‘mariposas’ [butterflies] that haven’t yet transformed, that haven’t found their wings.”
“I continued to learn,” he said. “I want to be able to think about who I am, to dream about who we are, without ever assuming our identities.”
Tila Neguse, the director of the Center, proceeded to ask the two poets to comment on their books’ dedication to different people.
According to Sedillo, he dedicated his book to his mother, as “she was the one that opened my eyes to the world of books or literature, to the idea that I could be anywhere.”
Guzman said that his collection “Catrachos” started without the plural “s” at the end.
“As I started revising the book, I realized that this book was populated by so many people,” he said. “It wasn’t just my story — it was also the people that I have encountered.”
“Catrachos” is a slang term for Honduran people. The addition of “s” at the end marks the plurality of the different Honduran experiences in the collection.
At the end of the conversation, the two poets again recited their poems to the audience.
Guzman picked a poem from “Catrachos” called “Amor Eterno” (“Eternal Love”) that recounts stories of death, suffering, and torture of people in Latin America.
“How many brown bodies will give up their bodies / so that other brown bodies might live,” he read.
Sedillo, by reading his poem “El Sereno” (“The Serene”), narrated memories of anguish for Chicanos in East Los Angeles.
“I / like you / am made of stars / You / like me / so full of pain / are brimming with genius / Listen to no one / who would make you feel different,” he recited at the end of his piece.
Stressing the current plight of the Latine community in terms of representation and socioeconomic status, Sedillo advocated for the collective effort from Latine people to combat the plight.
“I cannot fully thrive in my career if we don’t all fully thrive,” he said. “We have the same struggle, and we have the same conditions — I owe it to you to be the best I can be, and you owe it to me to be the best you can be.”