Alan Chazaro
Alan Chazaro is the author of This Is Not a Frank Ocean Cover Album (Black Lawrence Press, 2019) and the forthcoming Piñata Theory (Black Lawrence Press, 2020). He is a former teacher at Oakland School for the Arts, the former Lawrence Ferlinghetti Fellow at the University of San Francisco, and a June Jordan Poetry for the People alum at UC Berkeley. Currently living in Mexico as a dual citizen, he writes a monthly column, "Pocho Boy Meets World," which explores literary voices throughout Latin America. His work has recently been featured in Palette, Bold Italic, and Alien Magazine. Find him on Twitter @alan_chazaro
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16 Reasons Why a DACA Dreamer Will Be the First Person to Build a Do-It-Yourself Spaceship from Simple Materials
1: Because they already know how to work under atmospheric pressure.
2: Because according to the dictionary, If you describe someone as a dreamer, you mean that they spend a lot of time thinking about and planning for things that they would like to happen but which are improbable or impractical and what’s less practical than being 52,000 altitudes above sea level in a metal box?
3: Because sometimes flying means learning how to lift yourself off the slow-turning surface of a planet with nothing to keep you grounded.
4: Because when Adrian was deported in 2007, he told me he wanted to go far away; and I’m not convinced he meant Mexico City; and I’m not convinced he wanted to leave; and I’m not convinced that after 20 years in this country he wasn’t more American than my blue Levi’s; more American than Max’s all-white Mustang 5.0; more American than listening to the red noise of Jimmy Hendrix’s National Anthem in Guillermo’s bedroom on a school night; I’ve never been convinced.
5: Because how else can you transcend the borders of a burning world?
6: Because they’ve been called aliens since birth. And, well, aliens know how to build spaceships, right?
7: Because our government states, Under this version of the DREAM Act, immigrants could qualify in part, by meeting the following requirements: Be[ing] between the ages of 12 and 35 at the time the Law is enacted [and] arriv[ing] in the United States before the age of 16 as if asking a child to keep dreaming into adulthood isn’t some form of psychological colonization, as if dreamers won’t eventually wake up.
8: Because when bloodlines are derived from Aztec, Mayan, Toltec, Olmec, Incan, and other indigenous civilizations, learning how to translate the universe’s truth can happen while star gazing from a naked rooftop.
9: Because fuck Donald Trump x 3.6 million, one for each Dreamer.
10: Because when Kanye West rapped on his first album, The College Dropout, I’ve been / workin’ this grave shift / and I ain't made shit / I wish I could / buy me a spaceship and fly we’d rap along in the backseat of my brother’s Jetta, blasting Highway 101 with windows open, nothing but Mexican kids learning how to embrace California’s warmth as our own.
11: Because everyone I know who’s a Dreamer has worked 1, 2, or 3 jobs for half, quarter, or minimum pay, and they’ve never rested, and they’ve never complained, and they’ve given and they’ve given and they’ve given.
12: Because as a teenager I remember being at Sergio’s house and seeing his father, uncle, and brothers rise for work like solar bodies determined to circulate a cold planet while the rest of us were falling asleep, drunk and useless. When the buses were too tired and empty to be running. When silence was the only music of the day. When the sky was a thick oil spill of the deepest purples you can imagine, and still, deeper than that.
13: Because in the blindness of space, no one can question the legality of your existence.
14: Because there is already a loss of air and gravity in the U.S.
15: Because Dreamers understand what it means to have an expiration on their humanity: On September 5, 2017, President Trump ordered an end to the Deferred Action on Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program. This program shields young undocumented immigrants —who often arrived at a very young age in circumstances beyond their control—from deportation.
16: Because Dreamers can no longer breathe here; because future spaces are needed; because who else can build an empire in the air besides those who’ve learned to make pyramids from the earth’s mud?
2: Because according to the dictionary, If you describe someone as a dreamer, you mean that they spend a lot of time thinking about and planning for things that they would like to happen but which are improbable or impractical and what’s less practical than being 52,000 altitudes above sea level in a metal box?
3: Because sometimes flying means learning how to lift yourself off the slow-turning surface of a planet with nothing to keep you grounded.
4: Because when Adrian was deported in 2007, he told me he wanted to go far away; and I’m not convinced he meant Mexico City; and I’m not convinced he wanted to leave; and I’m not convinced that after 20 years in this country he wasn’t more American than my blue Levi’s; more American than Max’s all-white Mustang 5.0; more American than listening to the red noise of Jimmy Hendrix’s National Anthem in Guillermo’s bedroom on a school night; I’ve never been convinced.
5: Because how else can you transcend the borders of a burning world?
6: Because they’ve been called aliens since birth. And, well, aliens know how to build spaceships, right?
7: Because our government states, Under this version of the DREAM Act, immigrants could qualify in part, by meeting the following requirements: Be[ing] between the ages of 12 and 35 at the time the Law is enacted [and] arriv[ing] in the United States before the age of 16 as if asking a child to keep dreaming into adulthood isn’t some form of psychological colonization, as if dreamers won’t eventually wake up.
8: Because when bloodlines are derived from Aztec, Mayan, Toltec, Olmec, Incan, and other indigenous civilizations, learning how to translate the universe’s truth can happen while star gazing from a naked rooftop.
9: Because fuck Donald Trump x 3.6 million, one for each Dreamer.
10: Because when Kanye West rapped on his first album, The College Dropout, I’ve been / workin’ this grave shift / and I ain't made shit / I wish I could / buy me a spaceship and fly we’d rap along in the backseat of my brother’s Jetta, blasting Highway 101 with windows open, nothing but Mexican kids learning how to embrace California’s warmth as our own.
11: Because everyone I know who’s a Dreamer has worked 1, 2, or 3 jobs for half, quarter, or minimum pay, and they’ve never rested, and they’ve never complained, and they’ve given and they’ve given and they’ve given.
12: Because as a teenager I remember being at Sergio’s house and seeing his father, uncle, and brothers rise for work like solar bodies determined to circulate a cold planet while the rest of us were falling asleep, drunk and useless. When the buses were too tired and empty to be running. When silence was the only music of the day. When the sky was a thick oil spill of the deepest purples you can imagine, and still, deeper than that.
13: Because in the blindness of space, no one can question the legality of your existence.
14: Because there is already a loss of air and gravity in the U.S.
15: Because Dreamers understand what it means to have an expiration on their humanity: On September 5, 2017, President Trump ordered an end to the Deferred Action on Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program. This program shields young undocumented immigrants —who often arrived at a very young age in circumstances beyond their control—from deportation.
16: Because Dreamers can no longer breathe here; because future spaces are needed; because who else can build an empire in the air besides those who’ve learned to make pyramids from the earth’s mud?
Live Reading
Check out Alan and his students reading this poem HERE!
Commentary
Alan on "16 Reasons Why a DACA Dreamer Will Be the First Person to Build a Do-It-Yourself Spaceship from Simple Materials":
When I was the 10th-grade English teacher at Oakland School for the Arts, the Arts Director approached me to ask if I was interested in being commissioned to write a poem on the themes of home and migration for a school-wide fundraiser to be performed in front of the governor and other state donors. No biggie. Since I was already thinking a lot about outer space and science fiction for a personal creative writing project I was working on, and since there was news coverage about Trump trying to shut down the DACA program back then, I agreed to perform and went into drafting the poem with an open mind about what might alchemize from all those elements colliding. The idea of writing for an audience that included my students, their parents, and state legislators had me thinking about more than just my individual experience--I wanted to say something about the humanity and potential of first-generation youth in California, particularly Dreamers. Having grown up in California with Mexican immigrant parents myself, with many of my closest friends being undocumented and some--unfortunately--even deported, I wanted to get people thinking about those issues and experiences, about what home looks and feels like for me and countless others in our classrooms. I started by researching the government’s websites to more deeply inform myself about the DACA program, and I noticed that the age cut off for being considered a Dreamer is 16. So I took that as a structural concept and gave myself the challenge to think of 16 reasons or narratives about Dreamers, mixed with my upbringing around friends who were Dreamers, and I just started writing. Because I like variety, I tried to come up with different ways to approach the topic--from the macro to the micro, the angry to the joyful--and the format allowed me to do this. Tying in the spaceship element immediately began to feel organic since the hateful language of “illegal aliens” is already something the community has to deal with, but I tried to use these connotations to inform my voice and vision in a positive way instead. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place when I decided to recruit a group of youth from the Latinos Unidos club that met in my classroom once a week during lunch. I wanted them to share the stage with me and to represent the wide range of Latinx experiences I was hoping to convey, to be the faces and the voices of the beautifully diverse and powerful next generation of Latinx leaders that I wanted to the audience to imagine. It ended up being a hella special poem and experience for me, and I was so grateful to have been asked to participate.
EIC Christine Taylor on "16 Reasons Why a DACA Dreamer Will Be the First Person to Build a Do-It-Yourself Spaceship from Simple Materials":
“Because sometimes flying means learning how to lift yourself off the slow-turning surface of a planet with nothing to keep you grounded.”—just wow! When Alan’s poem came over the transom, I quickly became ensnared in the “list” of figurative and literal expressions of the experience of Dreamers in the United States. And I think that poetry plays a crucial role in the work of social justice, and quite obviously this poem is in service to that mission. I’m struck by the way Alan handles a painful subject with a combination of surreal humor, hardline reality, and grace. This is a poem we all need.
When I was the 10th-grade English teacher at Oakland School for the Arts, the Arts Director approached me to ask if I was interested in being commissioned to write a poem on the themes of home and migration for a school-wide fundraiser to be performed in front of the governor and other state donors. No biggie. Since I was already thinking a lot about outer space and science fiction for a personal creative writing project I was working on, and since there was news coverage about Trump trying to shut down the DACA program back then, I agreed to perform and went into drafting the poem with an open mind about what might alchemize from all those elements colliding. The idea of writing for an audience that included my students, their parents, and state legislators had me thinking about more than just my individual experience--I wanted to say something about the humanity and potential of first-generation youth in California, particularly Dreamers. Having grown up in California with Mexican immigrant parents myself, with many of my closest friends being undocumented and some--unfortunately--even deported, I wanted to get people thinking about those issues and experiences, about what home looks and feels like for me and countless others in our classrooms. I started by researching the government’s websites to more deeply inform myself about the DACA program, and I noticed that the age cut off for being considered a Dreamer is 16. So I took that as a structural concept and gave myself the challenge to think of 16 reasons or narratives about Dreamers, mixed with my upbringing around friends who were Dreamers, and I just started writing. Because I like variety, I tried to come up with different ways to approach the topic--from the macro to the micro, the angry to the joyful--and the format allowed me to do this. Tying in the spaceship element immediately began to feel organic since the hateful language of “illegal aliens” is already something the community has to deal with, but I tried to use these connotations to inform my voice and vision in a positive way instead. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place when I decided to recruit a group of youth from the Latinos Unidos club that met in my classroom once a week during lunch. I wanted them to share the stage with me and to represent the wide range of Latinx experiences I was hoping to convey, to be the faces and the voices of the beautifully diverse and powerful next generation of Latinx leaders that I wanted to the audience to imagine. It ended up being a hella special poem and experience for me, and I was so grateful to have been asked to participate.
EIC Christine Taylor on "16 Reasons Why a DACA Dreamer Will Be the First Person to Build a Do-It-Yourself Spaceship from Simple Materials":
“Because sometimes flying means learning how to lift yourself off the slow-turning surface of a planet with nothing to keep you grounded.”—just wow! When Alan’s poem came over the transom, I quickly became ensnared in the “list” of figurative and literal expressions of the experience of Dreamers in the United States. And I think that poetry plays a crucial role in the work of social justice, and quite obviously this poem is in service to that mission. I’m struck by the way Alan handles a painful subject with a combination of surreal humor, hardline reality, and grace. This is a poem we all need.