Tuesday

So the Bilingual Journal I worked on is coming out, and it’s this big deal for my teacher and such, and she has asked me to do a reading, in this event they are having for it in our school. So I am gonna have to get up in front of some people and read a Curtis White poem/translation thing.

Now, I am not nervous but I will be. I don’t think it will be worse than when I presented and read my own translations of Caridad Atencio. Being there in front of my peers and many of the big shots of the school wasn’t that important to me, but the actual author was right by my side. In her Cuban-ness, her humble intellectual nature, she read her works in Spanish, and I did my translations in English; Newcomer virgin-translator-me. It was my ascension into the scholarly world I follow. No pretend intellectualness, no jargon, no discussion of eras or theories, just me, culture dragging, Mexican looking, alumni wannabe. Dr. D has been a huge influence in my life, I would consider her a mentor and a friend and she has helped me out in various forms through my college career, so if she asks I will happily comply with her request.

My name, with an accent in the i, orgulloso, beautiful, in ink, imprinted on a glossy scholarly journal paper, followed by many names who are soon to soar. And I'm as proud as can be.
Anonymous, and I don't care.