Season 1. Ep. 3 Latinas and Literature

(Intro Music)

RR: Bienvenidos! This is a podcast that explores Latinx media and culture in its many forms. I am Dr. Rojo Robles.

RS: And I am Dr. Rebecca L. Salois. And we are Latinx and Latin American Studies professors at Baruch College in New York City. In this podcast, we will analyze Latinx film, television, literature, art, and cultures.

RR: We will consider how these works are perceived, analyze them, and investigate the real-world reflections and implications of that work on Latinx cultures in the US and beyond.

RS: Welcome to Latinx Visions!

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RS: Welcome back, everyone! How are you doing, Rojo? How's your semester so far?

RR: So yesterday was my first in-person session. So that was like a really great. Like to come back to the classroom and actually see my students and engage with them, and I think it was a great first in-person class. Yeah, we have been for so long on Zoom that it feels good to be present on the same space and see each other and noticing the nods.

RS: Oh. Yeah! Oh absolutely.

RS: Right, you know that they're actually engaged in not just the black box that they've walked away from.

RR: Yeah, we did like a little circle. Yeah, so it was like more of a conversation among all of us. But I missed that, right?

RS: Yeah, I bet.

RR: We're gonna be doing like some classes on; still we're still like doing some classes online, but definitely like it's good to start experiencing the transition back to the classroom.

RS: Yeah, just for those moments, you know, I know I had a lot of students who would be like, they wouldn't necessarily stick around and ask you a question on Zoom, but might do that in person. And even just like you said, seeing their reactions, their nods, all of that. Yeah.

RR: Yeah, and you, how have you been?  

RS: I'm good. You know, I went to New York Comic Con last weekend, so that was pretty busy.

RR: Yeah, that's fun.

RS: It was a lot of fun. And it actually got to go to a couple of panels on Latinx comics and Latinx representation in pop culture. So I think that could be fun to do an episode on in the future.

RR: Yeah, that should be fun for us. Yeah, I like that idea. Yeah, we should plan something on covering the combination of visual arts, literature, all that, right?

RS: Absolutely. Absolutely. I think we can definitely work that into one of our art episodes in the future.

RR: Yeah, looking forward to that. Yeah, let's plan for that.

RS: All right. What about this episode, though?

RR: Yeah, so in this episode, we will be considering Elizabeth Acevedo's 2020 novel in verse Clap When You Land. 

RS: Yes, we'll provide a brief background on the author, as well as the historical event that inspired parts of the book.

RR: We will then discuss the art of storytelling through verse.

RS: Then talk about some of the family relationship dynamics that are addressed in the book, including those between parent and child and those between siblings.

RR: And finally, we will look at her exploration of the theme of neocolonialism and its relationship to tourism.

RS: Absolutely. Towards the end of the episode, just like we've done in the past, we'll provide recommendations of other Latinx poetry and or YA books that we think are worth checking out. Let's talk a little bit about the author. Elizabeth Acevedo is the author of Clap When You Land, and she is a Dominican-American author and poet who lives in Washington, D.C.

RR: She was raised in Harlem, New York, and performed in her first poetry slam at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe at the age of 14.

RS: That's pretty impressive. Performing there, in general, is impressive, but at 14?

RR: Yeah, and her first novel, The Poet X, precisely described that environment of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe and then celebrates its culture, right? She's like a person who is always reflecting on her subjectivity as an Afro-Latina woman.

RS: Absolutely. It shines through in all of her books. I've read all three of them, and you absolutely see that. So aside from The Poet X and of course this one, Clap When You Land, she also wrote The Fire on High, and this is a book with a Puerto Rican protagonist who deals with teen pregnancy and the resourcefulness of Caribbean women. And the book was named Best Book of the Year by New York Public Library, NPR, and more.

And of course, you know, as we mentioned before, we're going to do today's book, Clap When You Land. I want to share this quote from Acevedo's National Endowment for the Arts interview from 2016. It's an excellent, listen, you can listen to it. You can also read the transcript of it as well. She wrote, “Write the stories you've always wanted to read. Allow yourself to be the main character of your narrative. Become both the window and the mirror for those who read your work. Lean into fear. Write the hard poem.” So I'm curious: what are your thoughts on this this quote?

RR: Yeah, I think that from her early slam poems, she's like, she has like some that are like very famous, such as Afro-Latina and Hair that are like really popular on YouTube, the performances. Yeah, check them out. Two or three novels. The one that we mentioned, Clap When You Land, definitely, and The Poet X and With the Fire on High. Acevedo has been definitely a champion showcasing Afro-Caribbean, Afro-Dominican, Afro-Latinx culture and Black feminist thoughts.

RS: Yeah, very intersectional.

RR: Yeah. Her project could be described as a continuation of the transnational black power poetics of the late 60s and early 70s. It's no coincidence that her poems are included in the Haymarket poetry series, The Breakbeat Poets, and in a specific in the volume, Black Girl Magic. Yeah. I'm talking about this idea of Black and Brown Girlhood. I have noticed constantly how her experiences as we were talking about The Poet X teaching her poetry to teens, translating to her fiction. Right? She was a teacher before becoming an author and we can see that like the importance she plays in Afro-Diesporic girlhood, Afro-Latina girlhood, Dominican girlhood. And she's interested in telling young Afro-Latinas that their experiences count and that their lives are beautiful, significant, but also poetic.

RS: Yeah. Honestly, this is so true and so important. You know, I know that when my students read the book last semester, it really resonated with so many of them. They devoured it. You know, we spread the reading of it over two weeks and some of them came that first week. It was like, I couldn't stop. I couldn't put it down. I just kept going. I think for many of them, it was the first time they really engaged with poetry in a positive and meaningful way. And so many of the students in my Latina's course are Latinas themselves. So seeing parts of themselves and their stories represented in Acevedo's work was really encouraging for them. You know, it's not necessarily their own story, but they could see elements that they connected with, which they hadn't come across in a lot of young adult literature prior.

RR: Yes. Students of mine also have read them, yeah, in their reflections, in their class reflection, how important, you know, the fact of reading a story in which they see themselves reflected, something like it's really positive from the course, right?

RS: Yeah. So let's tell everyone a little bit about the book.

RR: Yeah. So Clap When You Land is a novel in verse, as we mentioned, that explores the complication and intricacies of love, mourning, family, and sisterhood. Yeah, as a social backdrop, the reader discovers issues of poverty, access to healthcare, neocolonialism, through tourism, something that we're going to talk about today, and the taking of the Caribbean coastline. Also, the statelessness of the Haitian population and the Dominican Republic. Yeah. So the novel is very complex. And in terms of storyline, the novel tells the story of Camino and Yahaira, two sisters who discover one another after the death of their father in a tragic plane accident. And they learn the truth about their father, themselves, and each other throughout the book.

RS: Yeah. In the words of Isabella Pilotta Gois, I'm going to say Gois because my last name is Salois. And so that makes sense to me. In her review of the book for Latino Book Review, she writes, “Clap When You Land is an affecting novel, one that portrays themes of grief, sexual assault, sisterhood, betrayal, cultural identity, and family with great care and empathy. It is written in alternating points of view, a technique that allows for a thorough exploration of the protagonists’ inner lives. Heartfelt and raw, Acevedo's verse is deft at sifting through the complicated emotions that arise in the wake of great loss, and particularly poignant in those moments when it's not afraid to linger on the character's imperfections. A powerful and vibrant work that will leave you thinking long after you've put it down.”

RR: Yeah, I'm interested in that phrase, the thinking long after, right? Because in a recent video interview, Acevedo mentions how a real life crash that we will discuss ahead, ignited precisely her passion for research and writing. And since she was a teenager, she knew that she wanted to write about the larger narrative around this moment.

RS: Yeah, yeah. So let's actually, let's talk a little bit about that moment.

RR: Yeah. So in the author's note at the end of the novel, Acevedo writes about a real life plane crash that served as a point of inspiration for Clap When You Land.

RS: Yes, on November 12, 2001, when Acevedo was only 13 years old, a passenger flight, American Airlines Flight 587, flying from JFK in New York to Santo Domingo crashed in Bell Harbor, Queens, so not far from the airport, right? It happened at 9:16 a.m. minutes after takeoff. All 260 people on board, 251 passengers, and nine crew were killed. And five people on the ground also lost their lives. 90% of those on board were Dominican.

RR: Yeah.

RS: That's a, I think that's a really important factor to keep in mind.

RR: Yeah. And while there were initial concerns of a terrorist attack, and we have to remember that this was only two months after 9-11, the crash was caused by stress on a vertical stabilizer, which snapped off the aircraft. Additionally, the engine separated from the plane prior to impact.

RS: Right. So about the crash, Acevedo states, “there was so much confusion around the November crash, I remember the special mass held at church. The bewilderment my father expressed as he read Dominican newspapers for more information. The candlelight vigils held outside the apartment buildings where passengers on that flight had lived. I also remember how this little crash was remembered when it was determined it was not terrorism. How quickly the news trickled off, how it seemed the larger societal memory had moved on, even though the collective memory of my community was still wrestling with the loss.”

RR: So as Acevedo was doing her research, she came across countless stories of individuals and families, some of which were people with multiple families. And these secrets were exposed with the death of those individuals. And this is what she brought to Clap When You Land.

RS: Right. You know, the crash in Clap When You Land is not the same one. The story takes place more recently. I think the story takes place in 2020 or 2019. You know, it's very, very recent anyway. But there are similarities in the results and the impact on the different surviving family members. And that's key to keep in mind.

RR: We already presented a context about the novel and the real event that inspired the novel. But let's talk a little bit about how the novel was written and the poetics of it. So definitely what we have here is storytelling in verse, right? What we have is a collection of poems, right? And although the poems are telling a story, we can also, at times, we can also like read them separately, right?

RS: Yes.Yes.

RR: What I have identified in this book is that she uses a counterpoint poetics, in una poética del contrapunteo, right? So let's define, let's define what counterpoint poetics is. So the Miriam Webster Dictionary defines counterpoint as follow. And I'm going to give you like a couple of definitions, all of them relevant to Acevedo's Poetics. The first one is a complimenting or contrasting item. A counterpoint as a complimenting or contrasting item. In the novel, Acevedo not only presents both the complimenting and contrasting narrative of two sisters, but also two contrasting spaces. A Caribbean homeland, the Dominican Republic, la República Dominicana, and its diaspora in New York City.

RS: Yeah, we really can't have one without the other and still understand the full story. We would miss so much of the picture if we only had one.

RR: Yeah, so in this case, New York City is also a Caribbean space, right? Yeah, so the second definition will be the use, yeah, counterpoint as the use of interplay of elements in a work of fiction. And Acevedo's book, the interplay is between the narrator's point of view, yes, but beyond that, between the issues that come with neocolonialism, exploitation, and scarcity in the Caribbean, and those of alienation, dispersal, and identity crisis in the diaspora.

RS: Absolutely. Okay.

RS:Yeah, I mean, both young women go through experiences that are relatable to one another, yet so unique because of these distinct spaces and their relationships with these concepts. I'm thinking in particular of the sexual harassment and assault that both of them deal with, but there are more examples.  

RR: Yeah, so the third definition will be the combination of two or more independent melodies into a single harmonic texture or polyphony, right? In Clap When You Land, Acevedo explores two distinct poetics connected to the environment. Yahira's poetry is grounded in urban Dominican/Latinx queer experiences and images. Meanwhile, Camino's poetics displays deep connection with her natural ecosystem, the ocean, la playa. And if on the one hand, Yahira's perspective is more cynical and practical, on the other hand, with Camino, we see as in African spiritual system, a deep interrelation between humans and the natural world, represented by the Orishas and syncretic saints. Yeah, Yahira and Camino find each other through social media, and that becomes a third abstract, but highly contemporary space with its own rules and lingo, and all of this comes together in a polyphonic novel, a novel about many voices, muchas voices.

RS: Yeah, and even when it comes to the structure of the poetry itself, right, we have Camino's verses written in tercets, tercios. Sometimes Spanish is easier. Well, Yahira's are written in couplets, and I don't think I picked up on that the first time I read through the book, but you know, going back through it, I was like, oh, okay, yep. It really does provide a different rhythm for each young woman. You have a different feel for them because of this poetic structure. And even just visually, we can recognize the differences with each character, which is really important when we get to the final section of the book, where it just jumps back and forth without telling you specifically who the narrator is.

RR: And this characterization through the through birth is also like something that allowed us to experience the different flows of the character, right? And we have to remember that Acevedo is a slam poet, so flow is very important in her work, right? By the way, I will recommend listening to the audiobook version because Acevedo herself plays Yahira, and it's like really great because the flows, the rhythms that we're talking about are very like clear, right? And the way she performs the character gives another layer to a very complex and rich story.

RS: I always feel much more attachment to poetry when I hear it than when I just read it on the page, absolutely. So I think this is a perfect example of that. And if you can, yeah, like you said, get the audiobook.

RR: Yeah, so we definitely can see the element of performance, poetry in the novel as well, right? So, let's talk about other poetic practices we're not going to discuss all of them.

RS: Yeah, No, we'll be here all day.

RR: We're not going to be here forever, right? But some techniques that she uses throughout the book, right? One of them is theme and variation, tema y variación, right?

In this case, I want to highlight how the book starts, right? And it starts with the repetition of the word “mud”, yeah? Fango, maybe it's a translation, right? The poem that opens the book is very telling about the use of this technique, yeah, of theme of repetition. Yeah, I say that all users and repeats the word and here when I am saying word is also a concept, right? “Mud” many times, yeah? I know too much of “mud”. That's the opening line and it keeps going

RS: Yes.

RR: from there, right? In the poem, mud implies a language of survival. It is also a mark of Dominicanidad, of third world poetics and as I said, it calls them that, right? We can also say like global South poetics, right? Using like more contemporary theoretical terms, right?

But also like mud is a signifier of poverty and lack of services of women's exploitation and the processes of marginalization implied in tourism, yeah? Acevedo and poets all over the world use these techniques to unpack important concepts or images that are central to their concerns as writers. Acevedo does something similar with the word chess or with images related, yeah? to the game chess, right? And also with La Playa, The Ocean, The Sea, right? There's a constant referring to the symbolism of the game chess in the case of Yahaira and La Playa, The Ocean, in the case of Camino as a way to interpret what is happening to them, right? She refers to these images and metaphorical concepts to explore also the mental states and reflections of the sister about their relationship with Papi, yeah?

RS: To the game,

RR: Their dad, yeah? But also and I think like here like the idea of padre, el padre es importante la patria, y la patria en español signifies the fatherland. So there are also like coming to terms with the fatherland, yeah? With the Dominican Republic as a patriarchal society.

RS: Yeah. These are two huge characters in the novel, right? Papi and the patria.

Yet neither of them speak. We know exactly the impact that they've had. You know, and I do think it's interesting because I don't think I consciously picked up on these repetitions, but when I think back on them, they really played such important roles throughout the novel. They I might not have noticed that I was noticing them, but they I internalized them as I was reading.

RR: The polyphony happens because of those concepts, right? Because of those definition and because of both of them coming back, yeah? And tracing back to their experiences to those concepts, right? The concept of mud or the concept of chess, the concept of the sea, and the concept of flying, yeah? We haven't mentioned flying, but it's very interesting because at times they think about flying through the ocean, right? Through chess and through what happened when you were like playing chess.

RS: Right. It's all woven together.

RR: Definitely, yeah. Another technique that is so important in this novel is the use, the poetics of lests or enumeration. And I want to bring back just like we did last time with Mosquito y Mari when we were talking about Mosquito y Mari bringing some ideas from our students. As you know, right? We're also very inspired by the dialogues that are happening in our classroom. So we want to keep like exploring that and integrating these thoughts and reflection from our students. So my student, Christi Thomas, commented on these poetic techniques and she says, “Poems from both Yahira and Camino's perspectives are written like their thoughts.

RS: Yeah.

RR: On page 91, for instance, the audience sees how Yahira's family is dealing with the remains of her father and she lists the times when each family member arrives. Yahira also lists the things her Tia Mabel is doing and she states, and this is from Acevedo, “she calls a cousin about flowers, a childhood neighbor about cascades cost. She calls a church a few blocks away to have his name read at morning mass for a week.” And that's the end of the quote from Acevedo. And then Christi Thomas says, the blonde language paints a picture of the family quietly getting themselves and funeral arrangement together.” What Christi illuminates here is the fact that list with importance function to show complex action sequences and its quicks effects on the people who are doing or are being interpolated by these actions.

RS:Yeah. Yeah. I mean, honestly, what a way to say so much with so few words. It really can have a tremendous impact on the reader, just this list. There's a weightiness to a list, I think, that especially in the example she provided really does, you can feel it.

RR: Yeah. And then we see the importance of detail observation, especially in the Cothinian realm. So another very important technique, poetic technique that Acevedo employs in the novel is the spacing of words on the page.

RS: Yeah. So you were talking about we should listen to it so we can get that feel that Acevedo was looking for. But honestly, seeing it on the page and the art of the visual on the page, I think is really important as well. So maybe a side by side listening while you read along.

RR: Yeah. Or doing both of them, both of those things. Actually have discovered different layers by first listening to it and then looking at the poems and see how she emphasizes some words or a concept by placing them in a very specific way on the page.

RS: On the page, yeah.

RR: So another student, Sven Larson, recently wrote in relation to the poem “Four Day After”. And he says, “Yahaira's poem is even more the defamiliarizing, yeah, opting to be more of a collage of words than a coherent, typical piece, yeah, laced with fragments of closest and jargon like “anthropological forensics”, “Four Days Afters”, confronts the very real emotion of not actually wanting to confront emotion. I like that observation.

RS:Yeah.

RR: Yeah. The splatter of words serves as an avatar for Yahaira to process the new reality and constant news coverage. That initial hit of trauma from the first date evolves until it reaches a point where there is little need for space and air.

The positioning and name of “Four Days After”  fits perfectly considering Yahaira has now spent almost 100 hours hit by the shock of the accident and is coming to terms that the aftershock is forever.” And I'm finishing that quote there.

RS: That's pretty heavy. Yeah. That's a great observation though.

RR: Yeah. He went deep in this observation. And what Sven is driving at is that Acevedo as a poet uses and takes advantage of empty spaces to signal silences and heavy thoughts, reflection, right? She uses these breaks and ruptures on the page visually, right? But in terms of also of  the meaning of what is happening along with words in Spanish and iconic representation drawings in the book, you're going to see a lot of airplanes, for instance. Yeah. To indicate cultural background. Yeah. In the case, for example, of Spanish words, but also psychic, emotional states. And also what we were talking about, the movements, the travels, the flows, and change in narrators.

RS: Yes. And this really stands out to me towards the end of the novel. In particular, I'm thinking of the, it's the second poem under 51 days after. It's on pages 338 and 339 in the hardcover edition. But when we see the conversation between the two sisters within the same poem, they're having a dialogue back and forth. The short stanzas, the empty spaces, all this really drives home the mood of the conversation in a way that I don't think prose would do. It wouldn't have the same impact. Not to say it wouldn't be effective as prose, but it wouldn't have the same impact, the same weight.

RR: It requires a different type of readership.

RS:Yeah. Yeah.

RR: Definitely.

RS: So I want to talk a little bit about relationships within this novel and I'm going to start out with the parent-child relationships. And so I'm going to go through, I want to talk about each of the sisters in relation to their father, but also in relation to the adult women in their lives. So first, Camino and Papi, right? The jacket cover of the book tells us that Camino Rios lives for the summers when her father visits her in the Dominican Republic. You know, like just that, just that knowing that tiny piece, that's when she sees him, right? She even skipped school on the day that he's set to arrive so that she can meet him at the airport. And that's not something she just does slightly. You know, she knows he doesn't want her to skip school, but she also says, and this is from the book, I also know Papi will be secretly elated. He loves to be loved and his favorite girl waiting at the airport with a sign and a smile. What better homecoming? And that's just page nine.

RR: They have a positive relationship in this way, but we do discover that there are some strains. Yeah, he won't let her come to the US and want to explain why. And he pays off El Cerro, a pimp who recruits local girls as sex workers to serve tourists and who would otherwise assault Camino. And as we see later, does attempt to assault Camino. And of course, he's only there three months, Papi. Yeah, not El Cerro, but El Cerro is always there. He's always there. El Cerro is like a ghostly presence, right? But in the case of Papi, that is also a ghostly presence. He's only there three months a year and never once mentioned that he has another family.

RS: Yeah, like what is this? You know, oh, he's just working in the US and she thinks he's away because he's working to support the family. With Yahaira and Papi, her relationship with their father seems a bit more complicated.

Like they had been super close. They embody a black affirming father, daughter love. But when she decided to stop playing chess, it put a strain on their relationship. And there's many, like I don't want to go into spoiling why she steps away from chess and all of this, but it's sort of like a domino effect to bring in another game that has their relationship at odds with one another.  

RR:Yeah, so Yahaira plays chess for her Papi. She knew it was something he loved and she did it to be close to him. And she even says, and this is from the book as well, “I did chess.

I was obsessed with winning, but never loved. It was her weight of being close to her father.” Yeah, something that was shared between just the two of them.

RS: Yeah, yeah. But you know, one summer Yahyra is, well, she's assaulted on the subway. And while trying to find a way to contact Papi in the Dominican Republic to tell him about what happened at the train in Finesolus, she discovers Papi's truth, or at least part of it. She learns that he had another wife in the Dominican Republic and she feels like she has to protect her mother from this knowledge, which is really interesting, right? This secret and the fact that Papi never answered her distress calls to share her painful experience really plays into breaking the bond between the two of them. When we talk about the women in their lives, they each have someone different, although I suppose you could argue that Papi was a different Papi for each of them. Camino has her aunt, right, Tia. Camino and Tia have a very close relationship. Well, Camino's mother died when she was much younger. Her Tia Solana has always been there for her. When she speaks about her relationship with Tia, she says, since I could total, I would tag after Tia, even when Mama was still alive. Tia and I are easy with each other. I do not chafe at her rules. She does not impose unnecessary ones.

So, you know, clearly you can see this closeness established in this relationship. In an interview with Audible, Elizabeth Acevedo says the following about Tia. She is the embodiment of collective wisdom. I love that. Thea embodies Afrodisporic spirituality and healing. She cares, gives life, literally. She's like a doula or a comadrona and is respected by her community. These sacred practices create a bond between Camino and her Tia and between these two women and their immediate community. You know, you see that when they go out to the other homes.

RR: But there are strains and secrets in this relationship, too. One thing in particular relates to El Cerro. Yeah, and it's important to unpack a little bit that name. Yeah, El Cerro is also short for carnicero.

RS:Yeah, that was Acevedo's intention, apparently.  

RR: Yeah, though, and carnicero, it's the one that deals with flesh, right? It also means the zero, yeah, or a person that amounts to nothing, right? So El Cerro keeps coming around, expressing his interest in Camino. And when Camino tries to talk about this with Tia, Tia's response is to warn Camino not to associate with him, thinking that she's doing so by choice, or at least that others will perceive it that way.

RS: Yeah, it's strange. It's never this like, what is he doing to you? It's what is this going? How is this going to reflect on you that he's coming around to see you?

RR: What people are going to say about your interactions with El Cerro?

RS: El Chisme.

RR: Yeah, El Chisme  is very present in the novel as well.

RS: With Yahaira, she has her mommy, right? This relationship is a complicated one. Well, Yahaira has always been closer to her papi, like we talked about, largely in part because of the chest. Her relationship with her mommy has been complicated. Soila, that's the mother's name, seems to carry an anger that Yahaira can't understand, at least not until much later in the story. And as a result, she finds it difficult to connect with her, right? They don't have this open communication.

RR:Yeah, then when Papi dies, mommy gets a settlement. And of course, family and so-called friends start coming out of the woodworks, asking for a little something here and there, or sometimes more.

RS: Yeah.

RR: Yahaira can't stand it and she doesn't understand why mommy gives into it. And they're grieving differently, but they don't understand where the other is coming from.  

RS: There's so much anger held within these two women, but because they haven't talked about their issues, right? Yahaira is a soul, mommy's knowledge of Camino and her mother, you know. And so the anger just keeps building between these two.

RR: Yeah. So we need to talk about family secrets here. Yeah. So the big secret, of course, is Papi's two families. Yeah. While Soila and Tia Solana know the truth, and this is something that we learn along the way. Neither Camino nor Yahaira have any idea that the other exists. And even when Yahaira learns that Papi has another wife in the Dominican Republic, she still remains unaware that she has a half sister.

RS: Yeah. Even after learning that the other exists, both young women are hesitant to reach out to the other or have a conversation with the adults in their life about the truth, right? Even when they do reach out to one another, eventually they do it secretly without addressing it with the women in their life. So why the secrets? Right? This is one thing that my students often bring up or they often brought up when we were talking about it. The secrets and the lack of communication lead to more trouble than the truth. They discuss their understanding of why parents might need, like, feel that need to protect their children, but how in the end it can do more damage than anything else.

RR: So the tragedy released the truth, yeah? And here's the big question. Will Yahaira and Camino have ever learned about one another if not for Papi's death? Yeah. How long did he and Soila and Solana think they could keep the secret?

RS: Right? You know, you've got to wonder about that, right? There are consequences to secret keeping because the truth almost always will be revealed. There is a breakdown before there can be a rebuilding. Mommy and Yahaira's relationship gets worse before it gets better. And the sisters, well, they don't trust one another immediately. Yahaira actually runs off to the Dominican Republic, like she just buys her own plane ticket, like lies about her age so she can get on a flight without parental permission. But even the so-called little secrets have consequences. And I put little in quotation marks there because they're pretty big deals. Yahaira's sexual assault, Camino's run-ins with El Cerro. Both of these young women are afraid to speak up about these things to the adults in their life. And the lack of communication along the way has taught them, you know, in their lives prior to these events, it has taught them whether intentionally or not that it's better to keep quiet and just be, you know, good girls. Like don't cause any more trouble. Don't put yourself out there.

RR: Yeah, that is good girls in a patriarchal sense.

RS: Oh, absolutely.

RR: Yeah. As Aveda writes in her author's note at the end of the book, and I'm quoting her, “Most family are messy. Most parents will fail to live up to the hero worship of their children.

In Clap When You Land, I wanted to write a story that considers who matters and deserves attention in the media, as well as a more intimate portrayal of what it means to discover secrets, to discover family, to discover the depth of your own character in the face of great love and gain.”

RS: Yeah, I mean, Yahaira is the one who matters. Camino matters. Mommy and Dia Solana matter. The stories of their survivors are what matter. They are complex, complicated,

RR: And they absolutely hold value. And using that image again, they're full of mud.

RS: Yeah, yeah, bringing it back to the mud from the very first line.

RR: Yeah.

RS: Now, we talk a little bit about sibling relationships because this is a book about sisters. And in the acknowledgement section of the book, Asevedo writes that her initial idea for the story had only one main character and that it was a recommendation of fellow author, Ibi Soboi, that she voiced both sisters. Soboi told her, you've got to get the second sister.

We have to hear the other voice. I mean, I can't imagine this book only from Yahaira's perspective.

RR: Yeah, it's so central. The counterpoint, poetic is so central to the book that it's difficult to think of it out of that structure.

RS: Yeah, yeah, so exactly. You know, instead of just one side of the story, we get the back and forth between Kamino and Yahaira, at least the first two thirds of the book anyway. And about 320 pages in, we notice that the two are now joined. Their verses still often alternate, or sometimes we'll get both voices within the same poem. But at this point, we've learned their voices. We've learned their rhythms. We can tell which sister is which without having to read a label declaring which one is which, right? They're together in the same space. They're together in a way that they hadn't been before. Honestly, sibling relationships can be complicated, especially when you don't come up together, right?

Like if you weren't raised as siblings. And I love that about Clap When You Land, you know, Kamino and Yahaira aren't instant friends. They have this brief moment of like, oh, maybe this is my new best friend, but like, there is still not the trust. They don't have the bond that you might have with a sibling that you grew up with. And they have reservations about one another. They're asking things like to themselves, like, what does this one know about Papi that I don't? You know, what does the other one know about the first? Like, what does Camino know about Yahaira? What does Yahaira know about Camino? We don't know. They don't know. You know, how to deal with the privileges that many times come with living, studying and making money in the diaspora. These are all questions and doubts that run through their heads. But as much as it is about the struggles that these two sisters face with and without one another, it's also about that sisterly bond. That's what holds them together in the end. That's what brings them to protect one another when it really counts and to hold one another up.

RR: The final line of the book sums it up perfectly. Of all the ways it could end, it ends not with us in the sky or the water, but together on solid earth, safely grounded.

RS: Love that, right? They're grounded in one another. It may have been a tragedy that brought them together, but it's hope that we'll keep them there.

RR: Yeah, so we need also like to talk about what we already covered, right? Or discuss some entry points into understanding the family dynamics, but also like there's a bigger picture in the book that we need to also or that we would like to unpack a little bit as well. Right? And it's Acevedo's portrayal of neo-colonialism and sexual tourism. Yeah. In the famous essay from 1988, A Small Place, writer Jamaica Kincaid from Antigua sardonically described how tourism to the Caribbean and the service industries are reprisal of colonialism and anti-blackness. It involves exploitative economies and the disregard from the part of US, American and European tourists of the lives, needs and struggles of the local population. Yeah, tourism to the Caribbean requires the construction of secluded fantasy islands within the islands as Puerto Rican cultural critic Ed Morales also calls them, to erase the drawbacks of previous and former colonial relationships and its injustice.

RS: Yeah, that idea of islands within the island, I think is really vivid to me, you know, just because they do create sort of these tourist pockets.

RR: And we see like in the case of Camino and Tia, their community is right beside La Playa and right and we have a resort right there as well that is employing some of the locals but it's also building an underground community based on sexual services for the tourists and El Cerro plays a big part on that dynamic.

RS: Absolutely.

RR: To this respect, my student Jazz commented accurately, “in reading Clap When You Land, I was struck by a particular passage on page 159, as Envedo laments quite powerfully, the exploitation of the Dominican Republic at the hands of foreign tourism. Yeah, the first sequence, “I am from a playground place, our oceans that we need for fish are clear up so estrangeiros can kite surf,” it's so tragic. The fresh “playground place” is so evocative and harkens me back to just a few months ago when residents of Hawaii plated with tourists to not visit the islands during a particularly bad drought in order to preserve water for the locals. It was heartbreaking but not surprising to see tourists completely disregard their pleas and splash around in resort pools and golf. Jazz quotes this line, “our land lush and green is bought and sold to foreign powers so they can build luxury hotels for others to rest their heads.” And he says that, as Acevedo points out, that countries like the Dominican Republic are the first to bear the brunt of the climate crisis, despite global warming being caused by those in power in the developed world. Jazz ended his post asking, where will the rich play when all of the islands are gone? What will any of us do then?”

RS: This is such an excellent question and one that challenges how those of us in the United States should think about these islands. But I'd suggest it even goes beyond that within our own city, within New York. The gentrification of areas that have traditionally been populated by immigrant communities is also a factor in an attempt at the destruction of these communities and not not always intentionally so or actively so by the people coming in. The tourists don't think about the island beyond their little pocket island and the gentrifiers don't think anything beyond like, oh, where can I get cheap housing?

RR: But this mindlessness is also very problematic but also it carries a lot of pain and brings a lot of struggle to the locals. And to the survival and the well-being of the locals. A student, Jessenia, had a tackle the question about the islands as a playground, the question about Latin America as a baggier of the United States and of Europe as well. And she said, tourists don't realize how when they arrive at a tourist place, even when asked not to, they cause a whole lot of damage just by the single fact of arriving there. That makes me think about how many Puerto Ricans were asking people not to come recently because of how tourism was increasing the COVID numbers. Adding on to the example Jazz provided from Hawaii residents asking tourists not to go and visit during the time because it was hurting them, it's very selfish of tourists because what tourist place will ask you not to visit if you benefit them economically. Only if they're in a really bad situation will something like this really be asked of. And these are things we don't take into consideration when traveling.

These are all questions that also Jamaica Kincaid brings in her very famous essay, A Small Place. We know we're hurting the earth we live in but we'll still manage to ignore it. Also the fact that as a vet otoshes the topic of sex, tourism, and with the quote, even the women, girls like me, our mothers and theas, our bodies are banded, jungle gyms, says a lot of how unhuman we can be. Why go to another place and use women is so monstrous and wicked that it needs to be brought to more of people's attention and create more awareness of it. That was just Sanya talking.

RS: Yeah, I mean, I couldn't agree more. I really don't have anything to add to that because she really spoke to so much of what the problem is.

RR:Yeah, it was a very lively conversation, a very important one that happened on our class blog. The students were talking to each other and engaging with this difficult background, a historical and social political background that is also part of the novel. And I want to just wrap up this section on neocolonialism. Of course, there's a lot more to say, but this is just like one introduction, one introduction to the topic. But I want to wrap up this section by reading a poem written by student Emily Robles using direct lines from Acevedo's novel.

RS: I love that.

RR: She did like a remix of Acevedo's piece. And I think the poem summarizes both Camino and Yahira's mental state after facing sexual abuse and the systemic links between tourism, patriarchy, ya la patria, in la patria, right? And Caribbean exploitation. I'm gonna read her poem.

RS: All right. Yeah, I'm looking forward to this.

RR: Yeah. Her voice is stripped of any emotion. I haven't done anything wrong. Our mothers and theas, our bodies, our branded jungle gyms. None of those things matter. Her voice is stripped of any emotions. Because in this moment, I am a girl, a man stares at. He just shows up grinning. Somehow his talking has turned into something I must have done. And when I felt a squeeze on my leg, my skin vibrates, electric to the touch. Never let anyone see you sweat. Her voice is stripped of any emotions. And when I felt a squeeze on my leg, I became a feast of anger. I pray myself free, not us, not me.

RS: All right. So we're gonna wrap up with a few recommendations. Like you said, this is a mix. We've got some poetry, some YA, a little bit of both. But recommendations for other works that you might want to check out.

RR: Yeah. So I want to start by recommending Ordinary Girls by Jaquita Diaz. This is a memoir that delves into displacement and the Puerto Rican diaspora in Florida. It analyzes issues that are affecting the community like access to mental health treatments, drug and alcohol addictions, and the criminalization of black and brown girls in the US educational system. The memoir celebrates 90s R&B and hip hop culture and brilliantly rejects exploitative pathological lenses and observes instead how these systemic issues are connected to coloniality, just like Acevedo does.

RS: I love that. You know, yeah, because the, you know, Acevedo's book is fictional. It's a novel in verse, but we can dig into some of these same issues in a memoir style as well.

I'm going to recommend We Set the Dark on Fire by Taylor K. Machia. And this is a YA novel set in a dystopian future. Basically, so you have these distinguished young women who attend this Medio school for girls, where they're trained for one of two roles. Depending on the specialization, a girl will, a graduate of this school will one day run a husband's household, she'll be the primera, or raise his children, the segunda. So all these distinguished men have two wives, one who's like the brains and one who's the baby.

Like they're not allowed to be both for some reason. Both paths promise a life of comfort and luxury far from the frequent political uprisings of the lower class. In the first book, Daniela Vargas is the school's top student, but her future depends on noone discovering her darkest secret, that her pedigree is a lie. Her parents sacrificed everything to obtain forged identification papers so Dani could rise above her station. Now that her marriage to an important political son is fast approaching, she must keep the truth hidden or be sent back to the fringes of society where famine and poverty rule supreme.

RR: Yeah, and that reminds me also of the subplot about Camino's on the private school, right? And her dealings with the privileged boys in the private school, right? That is something also that allows us to understand the economic needs that Camino has and Tia has, right? And the discrepancy, the socioeconomic discrepancy.

RS: Yeah.Between her community and her own experiences.

RR: Yeah, so my other recommendation today is Leventeno, Yola York, Dominican York by Dominican author, poet and performer Josefina Baez. This is a Spanglish tour of wars that uses a building in uptown Manhattan as a representation of the Dominican diaspora and the internal and external state that she names El Nie or the in-between. Yeah, in this novel with multiple narrative perspective Baez portrays the lives, joys or Bible skills and chismes, the gossip of many of the buildings and habitants, most of them are women. In sync with Acevedo is also a text that critiques patriarchal structures and its effects and Dominican unidentities.

RS: Yeah, that idea of digging into the diaspora in a way where it's like, you know, if you have this one building that is the entirety of this community, then there's sort of an isolatedness, but they're still in the context of this larger.

RR: Yeah, so the building becomes a microcosmos, yeah, of the diaspora.

RS: Yeah, The other one I'll recommend is called Don't Ask Me Where I'm From and it's by Jennifer De Leon and it tells the story of Liliana, a high school sophomore and first generation American from Boston. What they really like to is that she's Central American in particular and so we're looking at an individual who's not just like from Mexico, from Puerto Rico, from the, you know, like we're exploring other parts of Latin America. Just as the new school year begins, she finds out she's been accepted into a program that will transfer her to a wealthy white suburban high school 20 miles away. Now, I grew up in this area and we had students from Boston that came to our school to do this program. The list of reasons not to join the program is as long as the bus ride, but Liliana's mother won't let her pass up the opportunities the richer school can provide. Her father's also been gone for a long time with no explanation, so making ends meet and taking care of two younger siblings doesn't make things any easier. When Liliana learns the truth about her father, she starts to take a hard look at who she is, where she belongs, what's in her way, and how to get around anything blocking her path.

RR: Yeah, so another take on those secrets and lies.

RS: Absolutely. Oh, and it's just like, it's such a big secret that I can't believe that that Mommy, like the Mommy in this book thinks she can really keep that secret. Anyway, yeah, so just a few things that you all can check out if you're interested in going beyond Clap When You Land and Acevedo's other works.

RR: Yeah, so that's all for this episode. Thanks for joining us.

RS: What do you think? Share your thoughts with us. Have you read any of Acevedo's work? Let us know your opinions about novels in verse or anything else we covered today.

RR: Follow the podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LatinxVision. Send us a message or email us at latinexvision@gmail.com. We'd love to include your thoughts in a future episode.

RS: Subscribe on Spotify, Stitcher, Apple Podcast, Google Podcast, basically wherever you get your podcasts. Share us with your friends and family. Subscribe and leave a review on whatever platform you're using.

RR: Yeah, estamos a la escucha, cuídense.

RS: Dale, until next time.

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