“Drop by drop, the world is ending.” While Indigenous water protectors were being attacked in Standing Rock Sioux territory from Spring into Winter, fighting to keep the Dakota Access Pipeline from being built through their lands, the folks at Apogee Journal were curating a folio of literary and visual artwork in solidarity and resistance. The result is a staggering compilation of over 20 voices (including mine) entitled #NoDAPL #StillHere: Native and Anti-Colonial Craft Against Dispossession. It is a must-read, a must-see and a must-share! And it is more timely than ever. An excerpt from my contribution, Article 71, on page 1:
I was hunched over a cup of instant coffee, half-awake after pulling a night shift at the hotel, when I saw half the street in front of the breakfast spot fill with protesters marching, mostly elder campesinxs, Pachakutik flags in hand. Most foreigners confuse them with gay pride flags, since they both weave together the colors of the rainbow, but they’re the flag of the left-wing political party that many Indigenous Ecuadorians see as sellouts, though they can still be seen waving triumphantly across the country. Perhaps this is an ode to the time Pachakutik rallied to change the constitution in 1998, making Ecuador the first country in the world to recognize the Rights of Nature, or Pachamama, amongst other progressive wins. Being queer and mestizx, the Pachakutik flag hangs in my room as a testament to my both-and-neitherness.
Article 71 focuses on Indigenous water struggles in Ecuador and throughout the Andes, my personal experiences with water and some film critique on the issue. Apogee gave me the freedom to transgress genre a bit and I’m honored to have the piece included among so much vital and powerful work, mostly by Indigenous artists. Know that the struggle at Standing Rock is not over. Know that water is life, and must be protected at all costs.
People – yesterday, May 16th marked one month since a catastrophic, devastating, merciless earthquake shook the tierra we call Ecuador. My heart has been broken in ways I’m not ready to recount right now, but I will use this platform to ask you to support my people in our time of need. Just hours after the quake hit, while I was still waiting to hear back from family (they are all alive and well) an ad-hoc team of activist and artist Ecuadorian immigrants and Ecuadorians-in-diaspora organized to form the initiative Chicha Radical, to draw attention to the sociopolitical consequences of this disaster and to fund social justice-minded aid to the communities we know would be further marginalized by such a disaster – the Afro-Ecuadorian, Indigenous, Afro-Indigenous, trans, intersex, femme and sex worker communities living in the affected zones.
I personally coordinate with our activist organizers on the ground in Ecuador to ensure that every cent from our GoFundMe campaign makes it directly into their pockets. We are also funding rebuilding efforts for the Echeverria Guerrero and Menendez Ortiz families who lost everything and are homeless right now, making sure that these individuals, who are workers living in rural areas with kids, elders, babies, etc. aren’t overlooked by the mainstream channels of aid that never quite make it to the people who need it the most. We are still about 11k away from our goal and trust me when I say that the situation is still dire and the need is still urgent. Please donate any amount of money and share our campaign link with your networks. If you have ever traveled to my country as a tourist, it’s now your job to give back. You can read about our sister organizations and collectives in-depth on our GoFundMe page as well as find us on Facebook as Chicha Radical and on Twitter @Chicha_Radical. If you have any questions, feel free to get in touch; my e-mail is on my About page.
And let me just say one last thing: if you see anyone insisting that tourism will somehow benefit the people of Ecuador right now, they are dead motherfucking wrong. This is not the time to capitalize off of our suffering.