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Emergence Magazine Podcast

The Stories I Haven’t Been Told – Jamie Figueroa

Emergence Magazine Podcast

Emergence Magazine

Natural Sciences, Religion & Spirituality, Society & Culture, Science, Spirituality

4.7628 Ratings

🗓️ 16 March 2021

⏱️ 49 minutes

🧾️ Download transcript

Summary

In this essay, Boricua author Jamie Figueroa brings her pen to the blank pages of her family’s history, exploring writing as a tool of revelation and healing in confronting a legacy of generational trauma and assimilation into a white colonialist culture. “You’re left with an accumulation of blanks, superficial displays you know better than to trust. I am magnetized to what is behind and beneath. I excavate with my pen.” As she works to uncover the inherited wounds of her ancestors housed in her own bodily cells, she also reaches for a deeper remembering—writing her way into the landscapes and the cultural memories that bring together the pieces of her identity.    Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Transcript

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0:00.0

Welcome to Emergence Magazine's podcast. I'm Emanuel Vaughn Lee, executive editor of Emergence

0:08.1

magazine, located on the unseated ancestral lands of the Coast Mewalk people of present-day

0:14.7

Marin County. Each week, we feature a new interview, narrated essay, or story, exploring the threads connecting ecology, culture, and spirituality.

0:31.6

Jamie Figueroa is Boricua, by way of Ohio, and a longtime resident of northern New Mexico.

0:39.9

She is the author of the new novel, Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer,

0:46.2

just released this month.

0:50.8

In this essay, Jamie brings her pen to the blank pages of her family's history,

0:57.1

exploring writing as a tool of revelation and reclamation

1:00.9

and confronting a legacy of generational trauma and assimilation into white colonialist culture.

1:12.5

This is my archive of silence.

1:16.8

The small, lined notebook in my left hand is cumbersome.

1:21.6

My fingers grip the sides as best they can to steady the pages.

1:26.2

The pencil I use is dull, the soft, blunt, lead digs into the

1:31.8

space between each blue line. On this first page, I am careful to make the stems of the H's and

1:39.0

Ds tall, careful to hook the G in the right direction. I can write a handful of two and three-letter words.

1:47.0

The spiral at the top of the notebook glints,

1:50.0

catching the sun as the wire coil shifts and response to the pressure of my writing.

1:57.0

My mother and my two older sisters lie on a nubly yellow felt blanket in the grass.

2:04.8

The top edge lined in unraveling satin.

2:08.7

Kneeling behind my mother, I study her and my teenage sisters.

2:13.1

Their arms and legs are longer than anything I have yet to experience,

2:19.7

potential in self-possession outstretched, browning darker by the moment. Uninterrupted by trees, the backyard is vast. It rolls

...

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