there might be another way: sexuality, spirituality, mothering, feminism, environmentalism

The Many Me(s)



Lest you suggest I’m crazy,
I’ll have you know
you possess as many you(s)
as I do me(s)…

Dreamer, thinker, lover, leader, robot me
all operate simultaneously
’til I’m the one wonderin’ about
my own sanity.

First let’s discuss
the lines that define
the who of me and you.

The most blurry of these lines happens to be the one we call consciousness. It implies we think and that we’re awake – two entirely different, even diametrically opposed entities.

I don’t know about you,
but I can and do think in my sleep.
It’s called lucid dreaming
where I think (therefore I know?)
I’m dreaming suggesting I’m awake
until I actually do wake up
as when I rise (or descend?)
out of that mysterious state
and open my eyes.

Come on! Please keep up. This train of thought won’t wait, which is a whole other point entirely, or do I speak of the same? Train that is – the one that runs nonstop, out of control, seemingly linear, most likely random, running amok through the unobserved mind.
Like mine.

There it is.
My runaway mind
that doesn’t halt
’til my head hits the pillow.
I’ll call it anything
BUT conscious.

Then I own the overtones and undercurrents.
The ones medieval and modern mystics master.
Conscious is best defined as the overtone
soaring above, observing the train of thought.
Sub-conscious would be the undercurrents
flowing below, greasing the tracks.

Back to the realm of thought if I may
and when an I think becomes an I know
– not as in intellectually, but intuitively.
Yet another layer, level of intelligence entirely.

You’d think that higher (or would it be deeper) level implies a conscious eye as it’s fully capable of seeing ahead, foreboding beyond the hill, or around the corner, but the more I think about it, I or third eye can find two levels of otherworldly knowing – higher and deeper – otherwise known as intuition and instinct.

Intuition is the third eye
oft blurred by the mind’s
thoughts that get in the way
and obscure the perfect view.

Instinct doesn’t see.
It’s in the gut –
when my belly tells me
I’m in the presence of
friend or enemy.

Tells me. Imagine that. Bellybutton as metaphorical mouth, mystical umbilical to metaphysical Mother who would not have you cavorting, consorting with such riff-raff. Ever protecting you from places or people who would do you harm.

So if bellybutton is mouth, where’s my ear to hear the warning of danger near? Surely that ear is the inner curve of my gut that clenches and twists in the midst of uneasiness. The queasiness that tells me when something is just not right.

Speaking of mouths,
let’s go down to the Holy Yoni
lest you think the penis
is the only appendage below
with a mind of its own.

Clearly a man in heat makes a point, but just as sure, a woman’s yoni knows when she yens. She’ll swell, she’ll flow, the other may never know.

My point is
that’s merely another
part of me with as much
a mind of its own as a man’s.

Just when you thought I might be done, I’m only ready to take count…

Two minds, one above, one below,
plus conscious & subconscious
make four.
Add up intuition & instinct
equal six.
I’m going for seven.

The last and most assuredly not least
are my feelings.
My heart
prone to swell or break,
ache, fake an affection
so as not to insult yours.

My feelings factor into every decision I make, setting me apart from my inner animal…uh-oh, have I found an eighth? Wild side? No. I think that fits in nicely with instinctual me. Sorry to digress – a perfect example of the many times my mind talks over my feelings. The mind being yet another mouth, always running, making meditation the metaphorical sock. Ha!

Back to heart
It really is so hard
to feel these days.

Is our current state any surprise? What am I to expect until I elevate the value I place on my feminine feeling to the level of my mental masculine…a part of me that surely knows the value of equanimity.


It’s not that I’m not grateful for my maternal line.
It’s not that, as a mother, I don’t want to be appreciated.
It’s just the irony of Mother’s Day – It’s So. Damned. Patronizing.

Don’t buy me flowers.
Plant me a garden.
And in the interest of our Mother, Earth,
make sure it’s GMO and Monsanto-free!

There is no perfect greeting card to quantify all I do.
So save some fucking trees
And pen a thank you note in the dirt
And a love poem…across my back.

Don’t take me out to an extravagant brunch.
Help me make a simple dinner every night.
And for heaven and earth’s sake,
Let’s minimize or eliminate meat from our diet.

Don’t subject me to the movies.
Most of them won’t appeal to me.
Agree to boycott media that objectifies and
Sensationalizes violence against women.

Forget the salon or a spa.
There’s freedom in my unkempt mane and unpainted nails.
May we teach our children the beauty of the natural world.

I don’t want this day off.
And tomorrow, I don’t want to do it alone.
Let’s raise this family and change this world together.

Joint Community Statement

Equilibrio Norte

Joint Community Statement                                                                                                  02/27/2015

PODER, Raza Roundtable, Resistencia, NAACP and Equilibrio

In response to the illegal demolition of Piñatas Jumpolín located at 4101 E. Cesar Chavez by the F&F Real Estate Ventures, owned by Darius Fisher and Jordan French.

On behalf of the owners of Pinatas Jumpolin, we call on the City of Austin to respond with condemnation and to treat this demolition as a criminal act, and to support the community affected by this racist and illegal act.

We call upon the City and APD to treat this as a criminal act and bring charges against F&F and any others who…

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I just googled “women standing up to men.” Every search result is of men standing up for women (which is awesome btw), but this is the virtual equivalent of “DID I STUTTER!?”

I expected to see search results including Malala Yousafzai, the Gulabi Gang, and the Badass in this video that went viral a few years ago. You see the look on that woman’s face? YES. You see the look on that guy’s face? THAT is what happens when men are publicly called out.

Woman calls out subway flasher

Clearly, we need to provide the world (and thus, google) with more references!

Lately, I’ve taken to publicly humiliating/calling out men that are behaving badly. I reciprocate cat-calls with vomit sound effects. I will shoot daggers at any man caught leering, raise my voice, and order them to “STOP.”

It works.

The slime on their face hits the floor. My internal dialogue is “You can’t objectify me any more because I just humanized you. You’re welcome.”

You know how gentrification happened when white people stopped being afraid of brown people? It’s like that! (Not that that’s entirely a good thing.)


As soon as women stop fearing men, then true fraternity can happen – fraternity as in Germaine Greer’s quote, “The opposite to patriarchy is not matriarchy but fraternity, yet I think it’s women who are going to have to break this spiral of power and find the trick of cooperation.”

This is my solemn vow to defend myself, my daughters, my sisters, my mothers. This is my solemn vow to humanize every man that dares objectify me. This is my solemn vow to do everything in my power to break this spiral of power and seek the magic of cooperation.

My Abortion Story

Las week when the call went out to send more abortion stories to fuel Wendy Davis’ filibuster, I thought that since I never had an abortion, I didn’t have a story. But I do.

Freshman year at MIT and the condom broke. The morning after pill did not yet exist. When the pregnancy test came back positive, I consulted with my mentor and my doctor. They didn’t judge me. They weren’t even phased. My devastation was treated as par for the (college) course. No big deal. Have an abortion, duh. That’s what college women do. The baby’s biological father, another MIT student, emphatically agreed. So emphatically, he would have put a gun to my head to make me have an abortion if he could have. So emphatically, he threatened to abduct the baby after birth and send it to be raised by his mother outside the country.

Young and naïve as I was, I convinced myself that I could appeal to the church to allow an abortion in this one instance. (Pause for laughter.) Hispanic teen moms were abundant and embarrassing. I was a rarity – a promising, proud, double-minority at the world’s top engineering school. I was always in the top academic percent. I did not belong in the common teen mom column.

Too embarrassed to consult with the priest on MIT’s campus, I walked the long mile to Harvard’s Catholic Church and spilled my guts. Again with the “no big deal” bit. The priest listened with great compassion but little affect. And then…I didn’t ask my religion’s permission. The priest’s ear, his presence, his tranquility calmed my terrified heart. In an instant, I grew the fierce and fearless fortitude necessary to defend my baby, defend my life, defend my choice. I made up my own mind, in that very moment, to have the baby. In an instant, I fell boundlessly in love with my child.

With my newfound strength and bravery, I defied the bullies that were my boyfriend and mentor and doctor, and I CHOSE life.


I moved back home to face my family and my community. MY CHOICE meant that I had to hold my head up high when my parents cried, my friends gossiped, and my doctor shook her head in seeming disgust and disappointment. MY CHOICE meant I had to hold my head up high at the welfare office. MY CHOICE meant I had to take full responsibility for my life and the well-being of my child. MY CHOICE meant taking accountability for my nutrition and emotional well-being to ensure a healthy pregnancy and birth. MY CHOICE empowered me to be the mother I am today. I can’t imagine the devastating emotional and psychic consequences of a forced pregnancy as much as I can’t imagine a forced abortion or forced adoption.

You who would defy my right to choose are no better than the people who tried to force me to have an abortion. I DEFIED THEM. I DEFY YOU.

I DEFEND my right to choose life or abortion because MOTHERS must go CONSCIOUSLY AND OF THEIR OWN FREE WILL into the decision to nurture and raise a human life. Their effectiveness as a loving, protective mother DEPENDS ON IT. And unwilling WOMEN ARE NOT INCUBATORS for adoptive parents.

BEWARE Right-to-Lifers. At present, the GOP’s observation of the 6th Commandment is selective and hypocritical; consider the death penalty! Granting the government dominion over women’s bodies can not be selective. If the government can FORCE you to incubate a baby, they can also FORCE you to abort a baby. Pro-Life legislation equates to INVOLUNTARILY INCUBATION. Does the government then get to legislate your prenatal nutrition and medical treatment? It is said that it takes great love to put a child up for adoption. What if an unfit mother doesn’t choose adoption? What of them? Shall we take away that choice too!?


once, in a dance hall
alcohol induced dance trance
i was spinning, turning, whirling
channeling my inner dervish
my beautiful ballerina, my exotic latin
dancing circles around and around my center
til gravity brought me down
i fell from grace…gracefully
not even the floor could break my tall
couldn’t force my centripetal
motion kept going on the ground
i kept rolling over and over
even a toppled top keeps spinning
but even a rolling stone comes to a stop
…my moss betrays me
i haven’t been dancing in a while

Wild Woman Lost

When a loved one dies
Their immortal soul…consoles.
Where then is my solace when
My beloved friend’s spirit…expires?

Shallow grave of a live body and mind
Left behind.
Rude reminder of the wild women
Dropping before my eyes.

How am I to survive
One more woman selling her soul
Whoring her way to security
Well-worn path of obscurity

Settling down for a sickened society
Self-medicating with tv, coffee, consumerism
Prescription for an overdose of consumption
Drugs to mask authentic self-satisfaction

Wild Woman
Please don’t close your eyes
Beat back civility with all your might
Fight for your wildlife

For a woman is surely lost
Without her wilderness
If you’d open your eyes you’d find
The Sacred Union you seek exists within

Best to bring your insides out
Blaze a brazen path
Share your wild ideas
Passions, Purpose, Soul

Sure to enlighten, brighten
Shake-up humanity, your Man-to-be