Una Gringa Boliviana
by Tayler Bakotic
New York University
Tayler Bakotic is a graduating senior studying English, Philosophy, and Creative Writing at New York University. She is currently researching feminine rage in horror films. When she isn't reading or writing, she is probably playing the bass guitar, cuddling with her pups, or watching a horror movie.
Una Gringa Boliviana
What does it mean to be Bolivian in America?
It’s difficult to answer that
When I’ve never met another Bolivian in America
Except my maternal family
My mother, Uncle Juan, Aunt Linda, and my abuela
Who all love to joke about my ethnic ambiguity
Saying, through parted smiling lips,
¡Tú eres una gringa… pero al menos una gringa linda!
So it makes sense that my identity eludes me
Because I’ve had more people address me ‘sir’
Than una chica boliviana
And this worries me because I’m not sure what it means to exist as something imperceptible
Uninterpretable as a blurred photo, or a made-up language, or a joke without an obvious punchline
As the philosophers say, to be is to be perceived
And so if I’m perceived as ‘something who knows what’
Am I even here at all?
And I think of my abuela
Who insists that the American dream is true
She tells me about where she grew up in La Paz
She says, in dirt with meat hanging from the clotheslines
And lots of prayers in Catholic churches
She tells me, hundreds of rosaries were prayed
And women didn’t go to school, not really
And sex wasn’t fun, not for the women at least
But, she says, when she came to America, she supported herself and became an independent como un hombre
She says to me, me sentí viva
And though she was brave, bold, and powerful
Nineteen years old and pregnant with my mother, moving to America, a first generation immigrant, seeking opportunities and change
America saw her difference and was ashamed
I remember the day she came to teach my kindergarten class about Bolivia
She was dressed in traditional clothes, a royal blue pleated dress and a black bowler hat, talking to the class about Lake Titicaca with the world map pulled down by its drawstring
My class laughing at her
Mocking her thick Spanish accent
And calling me ‘caca’ the rest of the year like it was my name
I wanted her to leave so badly
I wanted to snatch the hat off her head and drag her out the door
I wanted her to be like them
I wanted to be like them
After she left, the homemade arroz con leche she brought for the class remained on the counter, wrapped tight in its cellophane
Unperceived and untouched
So, perhaps not there at all
Interview with the Author
What pieces inspired you to start writing poetry?
N/A
What theme do you find yourself constantly writing about in your
works?
I find myself constantly writing about my experiences as a woman and the topic of identity and self-hood. What does it mean to be "you", to address myself as "I"? What does it mean to be born into a body that confuses you, that socially defines you? I find these questions fascinating.
What do you think are important elements in thought-provoking poems?
I think the most important element in any thought-provoking poem is a commitment to authentic self-expression. And this isn't something I've mastered or I think is easy to do. In the writing process, I've found that my biggest hurdle is myself: I often catch myself wanting to justify or defend my experiences for the sake of some imagined antagonizer. In other words, I often devalue my own experiences. The thing I've realized is great writers don't write to avoid being perceived but write in spite of perception itself. This is something I hold dear to my heart and desire to have for myself, without shame.
What role do you think poetry has on our society today?
N/A