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<\/a><\/p>\nAs I read for coloured girls<\/em> by Shange, I was saddened by the idea that I hadn\u2019t found her before. Before, when my curling hair and espa\u00f1ol didn\u2019t fit in my mouth, didn\u2019t fit in my writing, in my thoughts. When my own identity alienated me from my conceived self, a self that was white-passing (at least in South Jamaica, where white was just skin), and desired a white family and white traditions. As I read Shange, 21 and no longer desiring a white<\/p>\n identity, but desperately clinging to the aspects of my identity that are deeply Latina and give me culture, sabor<\/em> at Barnard, I am deeply moved by her words. I annotated her work, as pictured, expressing the way my heart stopped when her stanzas did, or when it left me full of something unrecognizable \u2013 was it love for myself, or the people I identify with? Shange\u2019s writing is not just feminist writing, it is not just transnational and globalized, it is not just about culture and music and movement, it is about humanity as its core. It is about empathy and love and passion, pain, and healing and for these reasons, for the shared experiences Shange expresses in for coloured girls\u00b8<\/em> I am able to tie myself to a story that is not necessarily, explicitly my own.<\/p>\n we deal wit emotion too much<\/p>\n so why don\u2019t we go on ahead & be white then\/<\/p>\n & make everythin dry & abstract wit no rhythm & no<\/p>\n reelin for sheer sensual pleasure\/ yes let\u2019s go on & be white. (58-59)<\/p>\n — and I wanted to be white, for so long, because, as Shange expresses, maybe being white means not having to address the idea of the woman of color that is too sensitive, too concerned about herself. Maybe this was a way to remove myself from myself? But as Shange states, \u201cbein alive & bein a woman & bein colored is a metaphysical dilemma \/ i havent conquered yet\u201d (59). Haven\u2019t conquered because I refuse to view myself as separate, fragmented pieces, at least not anymore.<\/p>\n Now, as I read other literary works, I search for myself. I don\u2019t search for a regurgitated image of what others think<\/em> I am, because I am too complicated, too sanctified, too magic, too music (60-61) to be one thing.<\/p>\n El espa\u00f1ol de Shange, the reference to the music of my childhood, merengue, immediately reminded me of Fefita\u2019s performance of Vamo Hablar Ingles; watching as a woman dominate a stage, surrounded by music and movement and culture \/ my culture adopted a new meaning. A song that only in asserting to \u201chablar ingles\u201d is adopting the same transnational, global connections that Shange evokes, and in a sense, it\u2019s all tied together.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n