The River Never
Happened to Us (ii.)
By Claudia D. Hernandez
By Claudia D. Hernandez
We walked more than a thousand miles to get to the other side of
the Rio Bravo, guided by the Coyote’s howl. We didn’t bathe in the
river.
Instead, we floated like thin paper boats, tanned by the sun.
I don’t remember caressing the surface of any pumice
rock.
I stuck my fingers between cottonwood crevices, their
trunks rooted on opposite sides of the river. We were
bound
to eat desert wind; I was ten. When we reached the other
side, we hid behind bushes; quietly, we sank slowly in the
mud.
When the Coyotes signaled, we walked, no, we ran and our knees
shed broken pieces of mud. No one drowned in the river; no one had
to be
resuscitated from
the mud. Yet we continued to trickle
shards of mud, as if the
river had never happened to us.
The Author
Claudia D. Hernandez was
born and raised in Guatemala. There, she learned to appreciate her
own energy, “when she realized her hands couldn’t keep still.
Tactic’s rich environment nurtured a creative soul, with its
colorful landscape and the cadence of her people’s song.
“I come from a small
town in Guatemala where it rains almost every day; we call this
constant rain el chipi chipi. Tactic, with its emerald mountains
emanating the fresh aroma of pine trees, is my hometown. As the sun
goes down, a dense fog envelops the town. At the break of dawn, mi
gente walk the streets ready to sell or to buy produce in the
mercado.”
(Claudia
D. Hernandez. “A Latina/Chapina Artist Speaks Through Poetry and
Photograph.” Chicana/Latina Studies. Fall 2013.)
Seven-year-old Claudia
woke up one day to find her mother gone, having left for the United
States to flee domestic abuse and pursue economic prosperity. Claudia
and her two older sisters – Consuelo and Sindy – were taken in by
their great aunt and their grandmother, their father no longer in the
picture.
Claudia describes those
three years as “a difficult adjustment – and one where she
experienced sexual abuse by a family member.”
Hernandez explains her
predicament …
“Mothers aren’t
always the ones who give birth to us. In my mother’s case, Tía
Soila raised her when my grandmother abandoned her at the age of 6.
My mother suffers from abandonment issues and how she has trouble
forgiving her mother.
"My grandmother, herself, had her own issues
with her own mother, [who made] her babysit her baby brother at a
young age.
"Me, feeling abandoned when my mother had to flee to the
U.S. from my abusive father. All these emotions bottled up making us
break our mother-daughter bond. But at the end we all search for
forgiveness, for closure, for love.”
Three years later,
Claudia's mother returned for her daughters, and the family began the
month-long journey to El Norte. She employed a series of “coyotes”
to ferry the family from place to place until they reached their
destination. Claudia crossed the Rio Bravo/Rio Grande with her mother
and two older sisters when she was ten years old. They finally
settled in Los Angeles where their tremendous struggle to assimilate
into a new life and culture began.
Claudia encountered
incredible problems assimilating: she didn't speak English, and her
Spanish stuck out as “weird” in their primarily Mexican
neighborhood. When her family returned to Guatemala years later, she
was startled to find she no longer belonged there either.
The complication of her
life itself left Hernandez searching for answers ...
“I admire my mother’s
valor for leaving my abusive father behind. She had to sacrifice her
three daughters by leaving us behind, but like Tía Soila says, 'Your
mother has a backbone like no other woman.' She came back for the
three of us three years later to set off on a journey that would
forever change our lives …
“Motherhood is
difficult and no one teaches you how to be a mother especially when
you’re seventeen years old. This was exactly the case with both my
mother and grandma – young mothers at the age of seventeen. This is
part of knitting the fog. It’s complicated.”
Hernandez's Knitting
the Fog is the complex self-portrait of a
young Chapina girl. Her writing depicts the plight of immigrants who
contend with such obstacles as assimilation, racism, and self-hate.
She also emphasizes the beauty of America Latina’s heritage,
language, and customs.
Claudia Hernandez holds an
MFA in creative writing from Antioch University Los Angeles. She is
now a photographer, a poet, and a bilingual educator in the Los
Angeles area. She writes short stories, children’s stories, and
poetry in Spanish, English, and sometimes she weaves in Poqomchiʼ,
an indigenous language of her Mayan heritage. Her writing subtlety
focuses on social issues that deal with poverty, immigration, gender
issues, language, and race.
Hernandez's poems have
appeared recently in Texas Poetry Calendar, Third Woman Press, The
Acentos Review, Mom
Egg Review, Berkeley
Poetry Review, and elsewhere. She is the
founder of the ongoing project Today's Revolutionary Women of Color.
Claudia says ...
“I wanted to be the
one who told the story about the thousands of Central Americans who
migrate north searching for a better life, looking for a better
opportunity for their families and children. I wanted to give a voice
to those who don’t have a platform to share their stories of
resilience. I think it’s important to have a female Central
American voice that can share her story – a critical story that
captures the hardships of immigrants when they arrive to the U.S.”
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