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Under the Rosemary

Into Action Pop-Up Exhibition

Into Action is a pop-up art exhibition celebrating community power and cultural resistance. This collective of artivists (activists, artists, community and cultural organizations) highlight social injustices to convert that energy into ideas and ultimately fuel acts of resistance. This free exhibit runs in Downtown Los Angeles until January 21. 

Because a large portion of my job revolves around social media, I was hoping to unplug while in this space. No camera equipment, no notepad, nada. Within seconds of entering the pop-up, it was evident I had made a mistake. All I can offer you, dear reader, are poorly lit iPhone 6 photos, personal anecdotes, and quotes from the evening's featured speaker Dolores Huerta!

"... people of color ... built this country. If we do not start teaching this when children are very small, then the racism will continue and children of color will never know their heritage or be appreciated and our white children, our anglo children, will be fed that poison of white supremacy."

- Dolores Huerta | Into Action Community Stage | January 17, 2018

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"When someone crosses the border without papers, they're not hurting anybody. They make it a felony when people get deported."

- Dolores Huerta | Into Action Community Stage | January 17, 2018

little iron vagina

Little Iron Vagina | Yolanda C. Guerra

In this piece, Guerra writes on wooden panels of an instance in which she challenges a gendered division of labor. The panels surround a wrinkled white shirt and hang above an iron and ironing board with images of vaginas etched throughout it. As a Latina, this piece resonated with me because such labor is so often unquestioned. 

This piece conjured memories of an instance in which I rebelled against gendered labor. I was in Mexico sitting at a table with the women in our family after having served ourselves the day's lunch. As the men began to approach the kitchen, chairs suddenly become empty as the women shifted around preparing for their arrival. My mom's loud and rushed words told me to arrange a plate of food for my dad. 

"Why can't he fix one by himself? That's what we all did," I said. 

I held my breath. I was 12 but vividly aware that I had violated an unspoken norm.