November 2010 MACONDO WRITER PROFILE

Jessica Helen Lopez

by Sara Marie Ortiz

Jessica Helen Lopez is a three-time member of the City of Albuquerque Slam Team and the 2008 National Champion Winning UNM Lobo Slam Team. She is a Poetry and Creative Writing Instructor at Robert F. Kennedy Charter High School. Mother to a vivacious eight year-old daughter, Lopez's work has been published in UNM Press's, A Bigger Boat: The Unlikely Success of the Albuquerque Slam Scene, Chicago Open Mic America Vol I, Feminism Now, Poetic Diversity, The Pedestal and Destructible Heart Press's, Albumar Familia. Additionally, she was the co-editor for Earthships: A New Mecca Poetry Collection 2007. Lopez is a member of the Macondo Foundation. Founded by Sandra Cisneros, it is an association of socially-engaged writers united to advance creativity, foster generosity, and honor community. Some other activities and panels she has been apart of are the National Hispanic Cultural Center’s VOCES: A Writing Institute for Youth, Feature/Workshop Instructor for the 12th Annual Las Mujeres 2007 Conference in Madison, Wisconsin, and has also provided Poesia sin Fronteras workshops/performances for the Verse/Converse Taos Poetry Bout and Festival 2009 and 2010. She is the defending champion of the Silver Tongue Taos Poetry Slam. Lopez continues to organize not-for-profit poetic events and projects in and around Albuquerque, NM. She currently works as the poetry intern at UNM’s literary magazine, Blue Mesa Review, a seminal New Mexican publication founded by Southwestern literary giant Rudolfo Anaya. The review is currently accepting submissions in poetry, fiction, and non-fiction. More information on submitting to Blue Mesa Review is on the website at: http://www.unm.edu/~bluemesa/

SMO: How’d you get started writing? Tell us a little bit about your background.

JHL: I’ve always been a reader, an avid reader as a child; when I was younger I would write raps. Usually the raps were “dis raps,” on kids that lived down the street, usually guys that I had crushes on, and I was dissing them.

But really, as a disciplined writer, I started about five years ago, and I was a returning student, an unconventional student, because I was a single mom; I enrolled in an introductory poetry class, at CNM (Central New Mexico Community College; Albuquerque, NM), what was then TVI (Technical Vocational Institute).

Merimee Moffitt was my professor, and she is still a very close friend and mentor of mine; she gave me enough motivation to keep doing what I was doing and she told me to go out to a reading that was required by my syllabus, so I went out to Central Avenue, hosted by Dale Harris, here in Albuquerque.

Merimee is now the Editor of The Rag (a local publication). But it was because of the second reading that I went to, which was a SLAM, at “Poetry and Beer” that was hosted at The District (now The Blackbird Buvette)—at the end of 2005. But at this reading, one of the first readings that I’d ever went to, I was very nervous, I had two poems that I’d work-shopped, that I’d never written in that style, in that disciplined workshop manner, and I was given a flyer by the Slam-master at the time, Don McIver (also a very, very good friend and mentor of mine), to go to “Poetry and Beer,” and I went that Wednesday, and I was hooked.

SMO: So, before you started writing in earnest, what first inspired you to write? Any favorite writers or creative influences?

JHL: As far as writers, it was Sandra Cisneros. I was something like twenty years old; this was years before my first poetry workshop. One of my friends was moving out of her dorm, and there was a box full with books, and melted candles, and I took out a book called Loose Woman, read that, and that was the first time I ever really enjoyed poetry.

I always loved my language arts classes, and English, but it was more prose; I didn’t really understand poetry for many, many years. I just didn’t get it. I didn’t get that the lines might wrap around, or what a metaphor was, or things like that. That was the first book, or collection of poetry that really, really inspired me, and ultimately it was her poems that resulted in my becoming a Macondista.

SMO: Tell us a little about where Jessica Helen Lopez is from, where you were raised, how you were raised, etcetera.

JHL: I was born in Paramount, CA and I lived in Long Beach until I was about eleven, and then my family moved to Deming, New Mexico, a very small, southern, border town. A lot of my writing is inspired around that time. I was going through puberty and in a place where there was a major culture clash; being from California. I’m used to these big sprawling cities, and then suddenly I’m in this little “dirt town.” I graduated high school from Deming and moved, just three days after graduation, to Las Cruces, New Mexico and studied journalism for several years at NMSU (New Mexico State University), which actually really helped me in my poetry later, I saw, because of the brevity of the work that you need to do in journalism. Different genres, and different styles of writing mean different purposes, of course, but it really helped with the mechanical structure of my poetry. I didn’t know it then. But I realized it later.

Then I dropped out, because I wasn’t a very good student; I had a lot of emotional turmoil in my early twenties. This was around ’96, ’97. Then I moved to Albuquerque and waited tables. I was a waitress for a whole of ten years. I then decided to go back to school after the birth of my daughter; she was born in 2002. I started going back to school, changed my major from journalism to creative writing, and then discovered the SLAM scene here, which opened up opportunities that I never would have even fathomed existed.

SMO: You mentioned your daughter. What’s her name? Tell us a little bit about how the experience of motherhood has influenced your writing.

JHL: Her name is Mia Helena Riverra. I call her Mia Mia Sopapilla. I write a lot about my daughter. In general, I write confessional poetry. The only time I don’t write confessional poetry is when I’m on a SLAM team and we’re writing for the purpose of competition, which is a whole other thing in its entirety. But my daughter does influence a lot of the writing. The last two poems, in fact, that I’ve written recently, she’s been in there—motherhood, my daughter, our relationship, my relationship with my mother.

SMO: So, for all the mothers and fellow writers, or aspiring writers who are also mothers, out there, trying to make a go of it, and trying to write in earnest, do you have any advice for them on how one might go about it?

JHL: (laughing) Technically, I wrote a lot when she was asleep, or while she was at school, or in-between my shifts at the restaurant, so I was just writing whenever I could. And—because I don’t think I really could have done it any other way—I’ve tried to write a lot about the realities of motherhood; because a lot of it is very beautiful and otherworldly and is abstract, but I write a lot about the pain and the angst that comes with being a single mom. And also writing about the idea of separating myself as a mother but also as an individual—& making a connection between the two, or there are disparities sometimes; there are also disparities, so I write about that as well.

SMO: On SLAM, Spoken Word, & that scene in particular—can you speak a little bit about working specifically in that way? Do you consider yourself, a “SLAM Poet”? Also tell us a little bit about current/future projects, what you’re branching out into, and how you’d like to evolve as a writer in the future?

JHL: Well, in the beginning, when I first started slamming that’s where I went; & I did do other open mics that were more academic. Fortunately for me in this town, they were both welcoming, and I was also taking classes at the time. I think that, for me, they’re all interconnected. I definitely put on a different hat when I slam. And when I say slam, I mean in the competition, the actual judges, etc., whether it be a local slam, regional slam, or a national slam. And then I can also put on the hat where I’m reading at UNM (University of New Mexico), or the Harwood Art Center, or the National Hispanic Cultural Center. But they go together, they meld together, they go hand in hand. I’m always going to be a performance artist though, which is so hard to define.

Current projects. I was working at Robert F. Kennedy Charter High School as the poet in residence and as a SLAM coach for a little over two years. I was mentoring young poets who didn’t really think what they were writing was poetry (but it’s all poetry right!?); & I got involved just by meeting people here in my community and other communities in things like Strength Vibration, which was a collective of female poets mostly, who were advocating on behalf of domestic violence issues, and bringing awareness about these issues, contributing; fundraisers and things similar to this, projects, similar to that, which I’ve done, and will continue to do—like working with Firestorm, which is another all-women’s organization, working with & on behalf of single mothers and mothers in general—all women—so it’s a very safe place to be, as a woman writer.

SMO: So, with a little more light shed on the future narrative of things, is there anything in particular you’d like to work on in the future, or anyone/any organization you’d like to work with? Also, is there anything, anyone, or any issue you’d like to spread awareness about?

JHL: Domestic violence. I’m doing another panel soon with Bill Nevins, Hakim Bellamy, and a couple other poets, hosted at UNM next month. Also engaging youth to work with spoken word, music, graffiti art—I’ve worked with a lot of muralists, though I’m not a muralist myself, I think they (poetry/mural + graf art) go hand in hand.

Well there’s Strength Vibrations. I am working with the One Million Bones Project. Also Prophetess, an ongoing project with the local Rape Crisis Center, a collection of poets and photographers, coming together, where we emulated strong women—past, present—& ourselves.

I’m also currently working with John Crawford at West End Press to get my manuscript together because I’d like to go on tour. It’s something I haven’t done yet; it’s a new frontier. As a single mom, I can’t just get up and go wherever I want, so it’s all very planned out. I’m going to do a short stint in November, hopefully when the book is done, early next year; I’ll go on a longer tour in the summer, mostly in the Southwest, California, Denver, Texas, etcetera.

SMO: How can people learn even more about what you do, check out your performances, read your work, buy CDs, check out anything streaming online, etc.?

JHL: I’m sort of all over the place. I’ve been published in the Pedestal Magazine (webzine; www.pedestalmagazine.com ), which allows you to put your checks on there, as well as your recorded work. So one can listen to the poem and then can also read the poem online. Check out Duke City Fix. I have been published there several times. I am included in many regional anthologies including Adobe Walls published by Kenneth Gurney. I work a lot in Silver City, New Mexico with a project called Poetry Bread. They’ve got a really awesome youth scene there, all cultivated by the youth and their mentors who are also the adult slammers ( the project being headed up by Sam Castello and Damien Davies).

I also host poets that come through. I just hosted an Open House at my house on Monday, where I invited musicians and poets to come together. You know, grassroots; you don’t always have to be asked to be booked for something, or hope that you are. Create it yourself, is what I say. I perform at Black Market Goods (I might go there later tonight!); I perform at various galleries and venues around town, like “Poetry and Beer,” Mas Poetry, or Warehouse 508.

SMO: Tell me how you came to be a part of Macondo and how you are supporting the Macondo mission and vision with your work.

JHL: Levi Romero, fellow Macondista, was a professor of mine and he taught a really cool class at UNM called Writers/Poets in the Community (unfortunately they’ve now pulled the class); it was only that one semester. We were to go out into the community, into the schools, & the prisons—we actually tried to go into the prison that semester and the warden wasn’t down for it, they had just pulled the library from the women’s prison here. This was around 2007 or 2008.

But the way I became involved with Macondo was because of Levi. He’s no longer with the UNM English Department, but at that time we had a reading together at The Tree House, hosted by Adam Rubenstein—a Pablo Neruda reading—and we went out for burgers and beers afterward, and he told me that there was this foundation called Macondo, asked me if I’d be interested, told me that I’d be a really good applicant, I said yes, and then got my manuscript together.

It was the first time I’d ever done that, got all my work and put it all together. And then when I went to Macondo, all the workshops, & the support from all the other writers is what helped me to get my manuscript together now—for West End Press—and hopefully coming out in the beginning of next year.

Macondo was a beautiful experience for me. I wish I could have done it this year, but I was at Nationals (The National Poetry Slam).

SMO: And since, part of the Macondo mission/vision, as I understand it, is supporting writers of color and writers from communities which are under-served, under or misrepresented, how do you think you and others might support this aspect of the Macondo mission/vision in particular?

JHL: I went out there (San Antonio) at the beginning of the summer in 2009; I was invited, with Kristin Naca and we did some workshops with the Guadalupe Cultural Arts Center & we went into the classroom of Anel Flores, I believe that’s her last name, and worked with her students there at her charter school. And then we all did a reading together. And that culminated the end of the weekend, which was awesome to just see those kids go up there, and feel so empowered. They’d worked with Anel in an after school program, which is great. To get kids to come after school, to do an hour’s worth of writing and reading and then talk with each other about it, to work out the kinks of their poems and then their performances. And when I say performances, you know, I don’t necessarily mean these grandiose spectacles of SLAM; that’s just something that’s an arm of poetry in general. It’s just the idea of young people getting up and feeling confident about their work and speaking to audiences, and sharing their art, and expressing, and that they can continue to do that. And hopefully it will feed them.

SMO: What do you say to all those writers out there, especially multi-cultural writers, representing, all those working in underserved communities out there, who are trying to find their voice, and to those who may have already found their voice but are struggling—based on the lack of support for the arts, the lack of publishing opportunities, and all the many difficulties resulting from the bad economy, etc.—who are at their wit's end and ready to give up?

JHL: Self-publish! Self-publish. Create your own chapbooks. Go to Kinkos. Go to Lulu.com; there are various websites online, where you can get on and publish yourself. Record your own CD! It really doesn’t have to be high-tech either. I think that’s where it’s at really. You don’t want to wait around too long. I mean, what’s an agent? Do it yourself! Go to readings. Organize readings. Lots of communities support each other. Go to readings, gain experience, network, and then you have these viable communities that support and sustain themselves.

SMO: Our writers and our artists are, and thus feel, so undervalued in this country, particularly by government supported arts programs. Though there’s some limited support for the arts, writers and artists feel, for the most part, that they’re out there working on their own; even though we as writers/artists know in our hearts the value of the arts to our communities, often in teaching positions, or in general, artists find themselves feeling as though they’re undervalued. Can you speak to this and the value of the arts & writing in society?

JHL: I really do think the arts are undervalued; that’s why I think it’s so important to cultivate that dialogue between those that feel the same way, and create instead. So, if you’re waiting, & for all those out there that are waiting, for something to happen: create it instead. Again, self-publish. Start a workshop. Invite young people to come, because their vibrancy, you know, you can’t bottle it. It just keeps going on. That’s the sustainability of it. As long as it’s grassroots, it’s not going to go away. It’s never going to go away. Even if it’s undervalued. You do it, until it is valued. I’ve seen pockets of that.

SMO: anything else you’d like to share?

JHL: I think there should be cross-pollination between genres. If you’re a musician, if you’re a poet, if you’re a thespian, if you’re a muralist or graf artist, a B-boy, or a B-girl—I’ve seen that kind of cross-pollination happen and those wonderful collaborations that happen. They’re unexpected sometimes but then unexpected work comes out of that. And then you’re living off of that, that whole organic, natural high (laughing); I know that sounds very hippie-ish, but it’s true, and then you work with the hippies too!

SMO: Lastly, is there anything about this community, in particular, (Albuquerque, New Mexico) that you’d like to say, anything that makes it special, or dynamic, or even about the challenges of working and creating here?

JHL: This community is so special, just because of where we’re imbedded culturally, and where we’re imbedded geographically; I think there’s something very healing about Albuquerque, Deming, Silver City, Santa Fe, Embudo, Española, Taos, and other smaller cities that we can bring into this whole collective force. I think there’s just something in the earth. I’ve always been very, very, very proud of New Mexico.

Some challenges? Getting to our disenchanted youth; they go through a lot. And if you can reach them, if you have patience and the time enough to do it, it’s so well worth it. It really is. I think the challenges are that we sometimes think that, oh well, the youth aren’t into it. But that’s not so. They just haven’t been given the opportunity to express themselves. Creating those opportunities for the young people? I think that’s where it’s at.

*

Sara Marie Ortiz is a young Acoma Pueblo memoirist, poet, aspiring filmmaker, scholar, Indigenous peoples advocate, youth mentor/trainer, a graduate of the Institute of American Indian Arts, with her BFA in creative writing (2006), and a recent graduate of Antioch University Los Angeles (MFA, 2009) with a concentration in creative nonfiction. She is the former co-coach of the Santa Fe Indian School Spoken Word Team (featured on HBO's Brave New Voices and in the New York Times). She is a Native New Mexican, a full-time writer living and working in Santa Fe, New Mexico, traveling widely across the U.S. and abroad, presenting on her own work and the power of Indigenous literature, film, and creative enterprise. She is currently completing work on her first book of prose, poems, vignettes, and essays and is directing and co-producing a feature-length documentary on the life and legacy of her father, Acoma Pueblo Pushcart Prize winning poet, scholar, author, and professor Simon J. Ortiz, with Cheyenne/Arapaho director Chris Eyre. She can be contacted on Facebook, & Twitter. View her blog a @ http://nativescientist.typepad.com/blog/

Comments

[Merimee Moffitt]

Well, it's the hat--the magic hat. You're in it, wearing it, you're where it's at. Good interview--I love the ass-kicking to just PUBLISH it!! I am, Jess. It is harder than giving birth for some unGodly unknown reason, but my first tiny chapbook is about to get printed. Thanks for all you do. You are on the path! Your voice rings true-- xoxoxox mm talk soon about a coupla things going on--

[Sara Marie Ortiz]

Wonderful, Merimee! Thanks so much for all of your support! You: are a gift.

~~s