A Note on my perceived anger and bitterness. Silence, Release, Conviction and Standing in my Power

After a note from a friend, I decided to respond to a woman who sent me an email through my website. At first I wasn't going to write back because of the tone and level of assumption, but then after reflection and a chat with my friend about comunity to write back. Usually I wouldn't think it necessary to address a person's assumptions about me, but I felt it a good exercise for my future as a writer who writes about issues that may make me seem "angry" and "bitter" to many folks. I feel many of us bloggers, journalists, writers and artists who use our work as a form of expression come into contact with folks who might misunderstand our work or who may write us off because of their perceptions of us. 

There are a lot of assumptions made about writers based on the tone of articles. I'd like to challenge folks to be mindful of your assumptions and expectations. A few articles and your perceptions on who that person must be does not allow for the reality of who that person actually is. We shouldn't be so quick to write someone off or assume that they are "just angry". I am glad that she wrote me though because in writing her back, I felt self-affirmation of who I am and what I'm here to do and how I'm here to do it.


M's email:

" Hey Doll, I think you are so cute but why are you so angry.I really think living in Texas would make anyone bitter.I am a Certified Herbalist,have been since 2011.I am also a Certfied Personal Trainer and soon to be Raw Chef.Adopting this lifestyle has made me a lot calmer.As a black woman I know of the pain and suffering my people had to go through.It's time to let go.It's HISTORTY not our FUTURE.Let's heal ourselves mentally...Be safe and Take care...I would love to make a donation to your site... M"

My Note back:


"Hi M...,


Thanks for taking the time to reach out. At first I was hurt by words I'd never expect to see from a person in our community...words that confirmed the stereotype of being an "angry black person." But then, I sat in reflection and thought about the fact that you may not have read many of my other writings where I talk about healing, community, and empowerment. I also thought about the fact that you may not have read about my own personal healing journey and the fact that you don't know about my committment to a plant-based diet.

I have spent much time working on ancestral healing and understanding my history and my place as an organizer within marginalized communities. There is much trauma in our communities and I believe that the mere act of letting go is not enough. Though it is key, there is much to work through spiritually, emotionally, psychologically and physically. There are patterns deep in our DNA that we must work through and release, as you've expressed. We also need to understand systems of oppression and the ways they affect us physiologically, emotionally and psychologically and what we must do to heal internally from external oppression and childhood and ancestral trauma.

Writing is a form of healing for me and I write with conviction. Some of my writing is fiery and some is soothing. I've reflected on some folks' reaction to my writing, and I believe that a lot of it is rooted in how we have been socialized to speak (or not speak) about our oppression. If we do decide to speak about it, we must sugar coat it- so as to attract bees with honey. Dr. King didn't do this. Malcolm X and the Panthers didn't do this. Gandhi and Mandela didn't do this. We have to be real and speak our Truth, regardless of what others may think of us. Many white folks and even our own people thought that the leaders I mentioned were angry and bitter and disturbing the peace. Maybe even rocking the boat.

Despite what some may think or assume, I am not a person brimming with anger. I am a person who sits in meditation and goes to annual silent retreats. I am a person who sits with plants and trees and spends time cultivating inner peace. I am a mediator, I believe in non-violence and peace activism (and understand the need for other tactics). I am a child of Obbatala and Oshun. I'm also a person who was voiceless for many years, like many other female-bodied people of color. Part of this letting go that you speak of, for me, is the healing inherent in writing the Truth and speaking out, which culminates in taking action against injustice. There is no liberation in suffering in silence. Audre Lorde speaks about that. Sometimes the "letting go" folks speak about really has to do with not holding space for the expression of our anger or sadness caused by violence committed against us. And this is disempowering and damaging. Lorde said that this silence will not protect us. This idea of not acknowledging what systems are externally causing us pain and being expected to just release emotions tied to our oppression seems anti-liberatory.

I believe there is a place for anger (and sadness). Thich Nhat Hanh talks about this. Many spiritual leaders have. Anger can move us to action, as long as we don't remain in this state for prolonged periods. It can consume and destroy us if we do so. But we can't remain in a state of bliss either. As with anything, there must be balance. We can choose how to channel our emotions toward liberation.

Thank you for your email which has caused me to really reflect on others perceptions, and in doing so, remain firm in my convictions about the work I'm here to do and the ways I do it: with compassion, conviction, and unapologetically- all the while hoping for, and taking action to co-create the healing of our communities.


Healing and Wisdom,

Toi "

Building with Boricuas at the D'el Otro La'o colloquium in Puerto Rico

Puerto Rico was such an amazing experience that it almost hurts to be back. As I left the island for the third time I felt a sadness come over me. I met so many beautiful spirits at the Del Otro La'o conference who are doing phenomenal work in their communities. The experience was healing for me after all I had been going through here in Austin. I'd really been doubting the way I've been walking on this path. I was ready to change the perspective I was writing from and be more "objective" and possibly write about things that I wasn't as passionate about to pay the bills. I was ready to compromise who I've become because I thought it was necessary to my survival. How many of us have to do that on the daily?

When I got to San Juan, a good friend cooked delicious meals and showed me around Old San Juan and gave me new perspective on the city I'd always tried to avoid (because of tourists and the neo-colonial aesthetic). I also got a tour of Rio Piedras and visited a really inspiring coop called, La Chiwinha.

To Lares, Holy Land, we must enter on our knees.  - Don Pedro Albizu Campos


The town of Lares symbolizes the struggle for Puerto Rican liberty and national identity. On September 23 of 1868, after loosing hopes of acquiring a change in the political situation of the island through peaceful means, a group of Patriots, acting under the leadership of Don Ramón Emeterio Betances, took up arms against the Spanish colonial government. Their goal was to rescue our national sovereignty and to proclaim the independence of Puerto Rico. In the mountains of the towns of Lares and San Sebastian, the cry of "Patria y Libertad" was heard. This glorious historical event is known as "El Grito de Lares", for it was in that town that the Republic of Puerto Rico was declared after the up-rising.

Sometime at the end of May or the beginning of June of 1868, Don Manuel Rojas presented to the Revolutionary Committee Centro Bravo in Lares the original design of a flag conceived by Betances himself. This flag was formed by a white Latin cross in the center, two bleu squares situated above the arms of the cross, two red squares situated below, and a white five-pointed star situated in the upper left square. This design served as the model for the first Puerto Rican flag, sewn by Doña Mariana Braceti. The cry of "¡Viva Puerto Rico Libre!" and this flag became the symbols of the revolution and of the first _expression of national identity in Puerto Rico. During the Grito de Lares, two other flags were used, a red flag, and a white flag with the inscription "Libertad o Muerte, Año de 1868" (Liberty or Death, Year 1868).

It was the flag with the white cross (the Lares flag) the one which became the symbol of the Puerto Rican revolutionary movement until the end of the 19th century. This flag was an adaptation of the flag of the Dominican Republic, the first Spanish speaking country in the Antilles to gain its independence from Spain. Dr. Ramón Emeterio Betances’ family on his father’s side was of Dominican descent. The flag symbolizes the bond of the Puerto Rican revolutionary movement with the Dominican struggle for independence.

Back in August I got to know Santurce (a gentrifying neighborhood in San Juan)  a bit better and I got to hang out with some folks who were all about food and environmental justice, anti-authoritarianism, and economic justice and sovereignty. I also visited Mayaguez and couchsurfed with an agroecologist who had a business helping coffee growers in Central and South America improve the quality of their coffee and business and sell internationally.

This time I visited Mayaguez in a different capacity. I was there as a presenter and panelist at an LGBT colloquium/conference that's been happening for 5 years at the university. I had no idea how life changing and affirming this gathering would be for me. That second day while sitting on the race, racialization, and queer sexualities panel with the awesome and aspiring Yolanda Arroyo Pizarro (poet,author,educator,activist), out gay boxer Oscar "Fenomeno" Cruz, and activist and journalist Dania Lebron- I began to see that this trip had greater significance than I could have ever imagined. Here I was in Puerto Rico with Afro-Boricuas talking about our experiences with blackness and its intersection with our queerness. This doesn't happen a lot folks. There is much silence about racism and anti-blackness and colorism on the island though it is entrenched in every day interactions and in the makeup of certain areas of the island. Loiza is where a lot of black boricuas live on the island and it is one of the most impoverished towns.

Race, Racialization and Queer Sexualities Panelists

Yolanda Arroyo Pizarro y yo

During the coloquio there were  plays and music performances, films, workshops on queer writing, presentations on transwomen in latin america, a panel on sexuality and polyamory and many, many more. Our "Austin contingent" presented on different projects and activism they've been a part of for reproductive justice here in Texas. They gave a much broader definition of reproductive justice (yes, more than abortions) and talked about the importance of expanding it from the white, hetero-, cis-female, middle class narrative  and centering experiences of transmen and women, folks with disabilities, and queer and POC communities. You can check out some of the presentation here.

What was so moving and powerful was the committment that each of the presenters,panelists, and attendees had to the LGBTQI/queer movement and to the expansion of our organizing and activism beyond just the right to marry. The folks at UPR were really committed to using their positionality in the university and/or as artists and activists to further the movement and be involved with intersecting movements happening not just on the island but internationally.

I met Rashidi Williams from Nigeria who is doing incredible work within the LGBT movement there with the organization Queer Alliance Nigeria which also partners with the Queer African Youth Network, the first lesbian‐led LGBTQ regional organization in West Africa, with the aim to become the hub for LGBTQ youth activists and youth-led movement building. It  was humbling to share dialog with him about how to incite people to join the movement and organize across issues. I can't wait to learn and share more with him. Building internationally is necessary for the revolution we seek to create.

And speaking of resistance and revolution- (when am I ever not?) I've decided to make my presentation on Putting Down the Master's Tools into a zine, so be looking out for that in the next few weeks. Prezi just isn't my thing but an e-zine I can do. Sharing about the origins of my activism, my coming into my various identities, and the ways that I've chosen to walk this path as an artivist and a visionary organizer felt so fulfilling and healing during my talk. To see people truly moved after sharing my sometimes painful stories and the work I've been honored to be a part of makes me feel that I must continue with this work. Even when I want to walk away because I feel that it's not financially sustaining me. Even when I feel wounded, misunderstood or alone. It's not really completely my decision to make. This work is bigger than me. That's what I continue to find out as I present, do workshops, or go on tours. And traveling and meeting so many beautiful spirits helps me to see that I'm not alone after all. And I know my place now- my place is showing our people a sense of their power by helping our communities reclaim their suppressed histories and knowledge. My place is helping our people find ways to heal, envision, and create  our own autonomy and, if not a world  free of oppression and marginalization based on our identities, at least communities that are free.

I hope that you'll find ways to heal yourself, your family, your communities. Remember that liberation starts with something as seemingly small as feeding yourself healthy food and taking care of your mind, body and spirit. If we aren't whole, neither are our communities.

Healing and Solidarity,
AGQ