Editor,
I was impressed by page seven of La Voz of Feb. 15. The now well known “mug” picture of Al Joseph DeGuzman was balanced by comments from neighbors, friends, and college staff. In its centered position, page seven became heart to the paper that opened with a pictorial drama of the evacuation and police presence. The mindful editorial staff permitted their readers, those of us who populate De Anza, to furnish our own word accompaniment to the cover photo essay that tracked our campus’ then growing desolation. Related articles both led and followed the profile page.
One of the comments on that profile page noted the horrible situation of the media’s portrayal of DeGuzman as a Filipino monster and the woman who contacted the police as a white hero. There is an economy of thought that utilizes language to reduce situations too quick conclusion packets at the service of some favored perspective. These packets may then be accepted as truth bearers that “support” more complicated constructs. We begin to hear that De Anza’s case would be equal to or greater than all the emotional luggage of Columbine High School were it not that our smiling hero saved us from that irrational and irresponsible Filipino parental upbringing that attempts to respect an adult son’s privacy. I mean, our heroine can’t be equated to the hero we say she is unless she stopped a monster. A guilty monster. And you know that shyster is going to get him off for less than when you failed to properly display your parking sticker.
It isn’t that I am some brainless innocent who can’t conceive of someone practicing his or her special brand of violence on us. I just read a biographical note by a Navajo weaver artist, Brenda Spencer, who claims that when she weaves as the female, the Navajo, and the artist that she is, she weaves. She then has the additional task of dealing with what white feminist women think that a female rug craftsperson (weavers aren’t artists, you see) should convey in the practice of her craft.
I am currently a student editor for the De Anza literary magazine, Red Wheelbarrow. I am a Xicano. On occasions while discussing the merits of a manuscript, in the time it takes to take a “mug” shot, I feel like I’ve shape shifted into an Americano (or is it un-Americano?) while everybody else has remained true blue (blooded?) descendants of the Mayflower. That poem is about Ponce de Leon as some Shakespearean Greek tragedy hero looking for El Dorado? I thought it was about conquistadores slaughtering people in the name of Jesus for their gold. No, the Mexican pronunciation of “Jesus” does not contain a foreign hidden plot meaning to undermine Christianity by purposely rendering it as “Hey Zeus.” Now, did I say this took place at Red Wheelbarrow? No. I just said I sometimes feel like it does. While I weave, I’m also woven.
Gracias La Voz and Brenda Spencer for allowing me to word my reaction to the recent campus and media event.
Audón Maldonado
De Anza student
