Piecing Me Together: Chapters 53–76

para abogar
to advocate

My problem seems trivial now after remembering Natasha Ramsey.

“Mr. Flores has us waking up early to volunteer at a school where we’ll work with children and help out the teachers. We’ll have to write a reflection in Spanish at the end of every day.”

Sam is not a good actress, but I do appreciate that she’s trying to downplay this trip.

Sam’s face contorts into confusion.

My chest heaves and words escape between shallow gasps.

There’s no commotion, but still, I start taking photos.

I pry the bag out of Lee Lee’s hand.

I print the photos I took today. Leave all of them intact, except the ones of the officers, their cars, those merry-go-round lights.

Their names whole and vibrant against the backdrop of black sadness.

Portland’s Esplanade is a path for cyclists and pedestrians, and it goes along the Willamette River.

“And so, I don’t know. I think I internalized all of that.”

"...At school, with my white friends and teachers, there were all these stereotypes I felt I had to dispel, and, with a lot of my black friends, I had to prove that I was black enough—whatever that means. It was complicated,” Maxine says.

Maxine lifts her sunglasses up and nestles them into her hair.

anticiparse
to anticipate

E.J. has a gig deejaying for a new restaurant.

“I like to think of this gallery as the people’s gallery. That means, I curate work that speaks to current issues, that is made by artists from marginalized groups, and I also make it a point not to showcase only well-known artists who you all may learn about in school. I want to introduce audiences to contemporary artists, young artists. Black and Latino artists. And so this exhibit is in line with that.”

“I like to think of this gallery as the people’s gallery. That means, I curate work that speaks to current issues, that is made by artists from marginalized groups, and I also make it a point not to showcase only well-known artists who you all may learn about in school. I want to introduce audiences to contemporary artists, young artists. Black and Latino artists. And so this exhibit is in line with that.”

He’s a contemporary artist, and in this work he used women from the streets of New York City as inspiration and based the poses off historical portraits by painters like Jacques-Louis David and other painters who almost exclusively painted white women.

“Oh, that’s because I wasn’t sure if my question was appropriate to ask right now,” I tell her.

“I get exposure. There are going to be a lot of people there—people with money—and you never know what could happen. Plus, it helps raise money for us to go on all those outings and, of course, it’ll help the scholarship fund. I like being able to say I’m not just getting an opportunity from Woman to Woman, but that I am helping to keep it thriving. Don’t you think that’s a good thing?”

“I absolutely know what you mean. I’ve had to participate in my fair share of fundraisers and gala events. I can give her some tips on what to expect,” Maxine says.

Music from the jazz ensemble playing in the background, servers coming up to me every few seconds with a new offering.

The man with the perfect smile says, “My, I am so impressed. You are so articulate, so well spoken, and—”
Before he can finish his sentence, Gina cuts him off.

I listen to Lee Lee read her poem, and I want to say something more profound, but all I can think of is, “Wow, Lee Lee, that’s really good.”

Lee Lee says, “Should we charge people to get in and give the proceeds to Natasha’s family? I heard there’s some kind of fund where people can donate to help with the cost of medical bills.”

I’ve been combining moments from different photos, blending decades, people, and worlds that don’t belong together. Knitting history into the beautiful, bloody tapestry it is.

redimir
to redeem

Our bodies a mosaic of languages forgotten,
of freedom songs and moaned prayers.

Our bodies no longer
disregarded, objectified, scrutinized.