This issue of Huehuetitlan is in celebration of the 1981-1989 tenure
of Henry Gabriel Cisneros as mayor of the city of San Antonio. In a
decade dominated by the ominous storm clouds of conservative WASP politics,
Henry has been a ray of sunlight for minorities all over the country,
proof positive that intelligence and energy could surmount all obstacles.
Proof positive that young Americans of any ethnic group could still
dare to dream the American Dream—and not find it a nightmare of
prejudice. Like Jesse Jackson's famous refrain, Henry Cisneros's success
encourages these young Americans to "keep hope alive."
Most of the poems in this issue were written by San Antonio poets during
the period of Henry's tenure as mayor. They celebrate many things, but
all have a certain flavor which is identifiable San Antonio. Had we
not had a progressive, visionary, intelligent, artistically cognizant,
Hispanic mayor during the decade of the 1980s, the political and economic
climate which allowed the flourishing of Hispanic and non-Hispanic arts
alike in San Antonio would in all likelihood not have existed. Of course
arts funding could have been greater—but then it could have been
absent altogether. Or it could have been channeled exclusively into
mainstream organizations, the ethnic diversity of which has always been
limited at best. Under Henry, it was neither absent nor exclusive.
Henry practically grew up in the print shop of his uncles, Ruben and
Romulo Munguia, where he learned early on the power of the printed word.
We hope he enjoys this sampling.
—Bryce Milligan Book critic, San Antonio Light
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Mi pueblo prohibido
mudo creció
con su ronco quejido
preso en la garganta
luego aprendió de ti
tu grito ¡viva Aztlan liberado!
y camina hoy contigo
hecho un toro de resistencia
que brama por todo lo que ha callado
...ya no hay fuerza que lo detenga.
—Angela de Hoyos
11 enero 1983
(Excerpt from the poem "Poemanaya: 3 Voces",
first published in Confluencia:
Revista Hispanica de Cultura y Literatura,
Spring 1986, Vol.l,No.2,
University of Northern Colorado, Greeley, CO.)
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RIBBON-CUTTING NIGHT
AT THE
TEATRO GUADALUPE
. . . never saw so many dignitaries
in one place
lookt like all of City Hall
upon the stage!
CouncilMembers like majestic
cedars smiling, happily
transplanted for the event. . .
I.
El nuevo Teatro Guadalupe
ya me pertenece. Precisamente hoy,
a las 18 horas, día 22 de Marzo, tiempo telúrico
yo lo bautizé
comiendo popcorn gratis
sentada muy feliz
rodeada de los niños
y los ciudadanos del barrio
listening to
Gerente Eduardo Díaz
Director Ejecutivo Pedro A. Rodriguez
Councilman Bernardo Eureste
Mayor Henry Cisneros
y Marta Tijerina
-animadora par excellence -
con su melo-diosa voz
de linda cantarina
cada quien a su vez
initiate what they predict
will be the cultural renaissance
of WestSide San Antonio.
II.
Es la cara de lo nuevo
en la hechura de lo viejo, dice Max.
Es más, querido amigo, es un sueño
hecho carne-realidad
Es la historia positive del chicano
que desde la cuna
trae fame de artista-artesano
- que a lo mejor
as a showcase of ethnic culture
Teatro Guadalupe
might someday
rival
el Alamo!
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III.
Ay de lo que te perdiste
el día que te fuiste...
La noche fue poesía:
Se hizo recuerdo
de cuando se dieron los primeros pasos
- en los jugos de la mente
una semilla nace, una idea,
y se inicia la tarea
de renovar el viejo teatro -
ingenieros arquitectos visionarios
singing in the dark
to the dilapidated building
deprived of love.
Se dijo amor, y el amor brilló
sobre la condición humana:
El Alcalde presentó - dizque exercising
his poe(li)tic(al) license -
a Don Melesio Sánchez
venerado poeta del barrio
who spoke 'con letras de oro y
punto de diamante'
invoking amor y paz.
IV.
You would have liked the ribbon-cutting
ritual. So unique:
A film strip was unrolled the full
length of the stage, and at the
stroke of eight, the Mayor himself
cut the celluloid and
ZZZI IIINNNNNGGGGGG! !!
up curled someone's picture-story
like a surrealistic eel.
And the grand finale! oh yes the
great goodnight:
Cuando el Coro Guadalupano
empezó a canter
se hizo una luz complete. .
del cielo llovieron roses blancas
y me sentí como Juan Diego
en el cerro de Tepeyac.
Angela de Hoyos ©
22 March 1984
(first published in TONANTZIN JOURNAL
Guadalupe Cultural Arts Center, July 1984)
Art work: RUDY “GRAPHICS" GONZALEZ
(ART WORK NOT INCLUDED HERE)
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POEM FOR THE END OF
THE CENTURY
"Wars ago, wars ago,"
said Phillip Booth,
and,
"the sun came under cloud
up and into,
men waded ashore
on some June beach
to die."
To die!
To die!
And still in war to die.
At the century's turn,
and on the third.
And to celebrate the half,
and
2/3's
in the middle,
and way out west;
and in Ire-land
and Southeast Asia
and dark lost lands.
And with 15 to go
in sacred Maya country;
while the tide rises
with every drop
of blood.
- José Montalvo
San Antonio, TX
(from the book BLACK HAT POEMS)
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WEST SIDE
In certain neighborhoods
the air is paved with names.
Domingo, Monico, Francisco,
shining rivulets of sound.
Names opening wet circles
inside the mouth,
sprinkling bright vowels
across the deserts of
Bill, Bob, John.
The names are worn
on silver linked chains.
Maria lives in Pablo Alley,
Esperanza rides the Santiago bus!
They click together like charms.
O save us from the boarded-up windows,
the pistol crack in a dark backyard,
save us from the leaky roof,
the rattled textbook which never smiles.
Let the names be verses
in a city that sings!
—Naomi Shihab Nye ©
San Antonio, TX
(From the book Hugging the Jukebox)
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