The ThinkND Podcast
The ThinkND Podcast
Letras Latinas, Part 23: A Conversation with Xavier Cavazos
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Episode Topic: A Conversation with Xavier Cavazos
Can sound truly mend a fractured soul? Savor this vibrant dialogue tracing poet Xavier Cavazos’s path from the Columbia Basin’s dust to Manhattan’s poetic fires. Listen in to the collision of Nuyorican energy and academic sanctuary in an oral history interview conducted by Karla Yaritza Maravilla Zaragoza. Witness the crackling energy of a life transformed through metamorphic verse.
Featured Speakers:
- Xavier Cavazos, poet
Read this episode's recap over on the University of Notre Dame's open online learning community platform, ThinkND: https://go.nd.edu/7d987e
This podcast is a part of the ThinkND Series titled Letras Latinas. (https://go.nd.edu/6fe07b)
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Meet the Poet
1Good morning. Today is April 14th, 2026, and we're here in McKenna Hall on the University of Notre Dame. My name is Karla Yalitza Maravilla Zaragoza, an English PhD candidate here at Notre Dame, and I'm here with the poet Javier Cavazos, who in 1995 was the Nuyorican Grand Slam Champion of the Nuyorican Poets Café. He has published three award-winning poetry collections: Barbarian at the Gate, published through the Poetry Society of America; Diamond Grove Slave Tree, published by Ice Cube Press; and The Devil's Workshop, published by the Cleveland State University Poetry Center. His most recent collection, The Devil's Workshop, was the winner of the 2024 Eric Hoffer Medallion Provocateur Award. His poetry has been widely anthologized, included in Best American Experimental Writing and Under the Pomegranate Tree: Best American Latino Erotica. Currently, Cavazos serves as a senior poetry editor for Poetry Northwest and teaches in the Professional and Creative Writing Program at Central Washington University. Thank you for being here today.
Speaker 2Ah, thanks so much, Karla. It's great to reconnect.
1No, no, yeah, like, I'm so happy I was able to bring you here, especially because of our relationship, the fact that you were my mentor back at Central Washington University, and so let's get this started.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1So my task here today is to conduct this interview, which will be archived as part of the Letras Latinas Oral History Project, available for current and future poets and scholars to study and find inspiration. And usually, how I like to begin is I like to begin by asking you questions regarding your origins as a poet, especially in terms of your history as a poet that's deeply rooted in the Pacific Northwest, Washington State more specifically. So- I want to know, what was your relationship to language, poetry, and or art before New York City, before the Nuyorican Poets Cafe? Was there a poem, a teacher, a record, a canvas, a moment when you were growing up that just cracked something open inside you?
Speaker 2Sure. Um, that's good. Let's see. I guess my relationship to language before New York City, um, I would wanna roll it all the way back to the very beginning, you know, um, birth and my language. So I was born second-generation Mexican American, um, in a small town called Moses Lake, Washington during the 1970s when assimilation, American assimilation was a big thing. So, you know, especially if you're an immigrant family, um, coming from Mexico, it was, it was, it was widely thought within our own communities f- to have your children assimilate, so, so to learn, uh, English without an accent. And so, you know, my, my relationship to language was really difficult and complex, similar to, um, I would say that, uh, my relationship to, uh, to language was, uh, a border. Um, it was, it was a barrier between, um, uh, who I am as an American, but also who I really am as a, as a Mexican American. And even though I grew up in a house, uh, that spoke predominantly Spanish, every time I was spoken to, or it definitely, you know, when I would speak back would be in English, and it was a desire to have that, that natural tongue. So language to me has always been very complex. It's been... It's also been, you know, um, uh, taboo. The Spanish language itself in a lot of ways has been taboo to me Thinking of this in a way that, um, Gloria Anzaldúa thinks about borders, and one of the, one of the lines in her book Borderlands is that, you know, that w-we carry, we carry the border with us, uh, uh, like a shell, the way a tur- a turtle would, that we carry a border with us wherever work- we go. But for me, the border was opposite. It wasn't from Mexico trying to get into America. It's from American, and not trying to get into Mexico. It's actually America trying to keep Mexico out. So that's where the complexities of it, that's why, um, you'll often... Some of the, some of the biggest work with heritage speakers, um, which I consider myself a heritage speaker, is if you, if you have a good heritage instructor for the Spanish language, uh, they will first really focus on the trauma of, of what it was to be told that your language is forbidden or your language is incorrect. And so not only did, did language, uh, uh, instigate that, in my own thinking is that, that something beyond that border, something beyond the Mexican border is frightening, is taboo. And so, so assimilation became very e-easy. But the border also represents not just a language border, it also represents, like, a socioeconomic border. So another way that can be expressed with language is, you know, um, we were immigrant families, uh, uh, my mother raising us. You know, my father was definitely present, but also not there. Um, and so, uh, just a typical moment would be maybe just at the grocery store, where, you know, my mother and, and my family would be on food stamps, right? And so food stamps back then, I don't think they're done this way now, but back then you actually had a little booklet- Yeah that w- you know, it was like a little check, when you would rip it out, you know? And so it was a definite visual barrier or wall, so to speak, that identified you right away as an other in some, in some way, right? I, I still remember being in the checkout line with my mom, and one of my best friends who, who a- who also, you know, came from a, a well-to-do family was behind us. And rather than pay with food stamps, which, you know, I'm sure we had very little money at the time, my mom went ahead and, and, and got... opened up her purse and paid with what little bit of cash she had that was maybe gonna go towards something else. But she didn't want me to, to go through that sort of traumatic moment of seeing that, you know? And it also, it shows up in, in, especially in rural America, right? Um, the language itself is another way of showing up, um, you know As a border, even in the act of sports, you know, I remember, um, in Little League, you know, I was always an avid, uh, sports athlete growing up, and, you know, my father wasn't there to advocate for me, where a lot of my c- m- a lot of my friends whose fathers were involved with coaching and, and being involved with the Little League, they're involved in the draft process, right? So then I have no agency as a young Hispanic kid in Moses Lake s- where, where you're not being drafted, you know, or y- your, a father is not there to advocate for you. And then years later, you know, when I had children, and I was able to coach Little League for, for, for my son, you know, then you get to see full circle. The, the insight becomes paramount in that you see just how much of that selection or that sort of agency or entitlement that could happen within athletics for certain athletes, that it happens by having a father present, right? So language itself was this huge wall border, so to speak, that, that... And from my perspective growing up inside and everything else beyond the wall was, um, was taboo.
1Mm-hmm. No, I, I really love the way you were discussing your relationship with language growing up, especially in connection with being second generation, the fact that this was a definitely a period of assimilation where most families were attempting to make their children be more integrated. Mm-hmm. Because especially coming from, like, the parents' perspective, it was, it was really about ensuring that their children had a, had better opportunities than, th- than what they were really afforded. And so it, it made me think about my own relationship with language, especially with you looking at language as a border, something to kind of cross, this, like, taboo linea, so to speak. Um, when I was younger, I actually didn't speak, um, English or Spanish, and that was because, um, I was just really slow in terms of developing. And so my mother was really worried because I would communicate with my hands.
Speaker 2Mm-hmm.
1Not like sign language- Yeah per se, but, like, I had invented my own language with, like, my hands and with, like, sounds, and that only my mother could really communicate with me. And so growing up, it was actually really difficult in order to speak English or Spanish. And going to school, I felt like I would get reprimanded a lot in terms of not being able to really communicate with anyone. And I think in a lot of ways it taught me to be Independent, to have greater agency. 'Cause even though my mother and my father were a big part of my life, um, because they only spoke Spanish, my dad spoke a little bit of English, but he was never confident in his English, um, they actually were very separate or distinct from my life at school to my life at home.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1And so I really do feel like in terms of, like, the way that we develop relationships with language has a lot to do with the formation of our personalities.
Speaker 2Absolutely.
1Some studies have shown that apparently, depending on what language we're speaking, we actually do have a different personality because of the way that it works with, like, the brain and the neurotransmitter links. And I have to say, I'm very funny in Spanish- and very shy and reserved in English, which is interesting.
Speaker 2Yeah, I mean, I have a complete different personality when I'm speaking Spanish to English.
Finding Words Beyond Words
Speaker 2But, you know, but that brings up a really good point about this invention of language and, and sort of the vortex of the unknown in that sense. Uh, one of my favorite poets, and someone who I was able to study with very young, was a poet named Lucille Clifton. And in one of her poems, it's in the book Quilting, uh, she says, "Say rather, I imagine myself in a place before language imprisoned itself with words." Right? And I, I've always used that as... I was exposed to Lucille Clifton early on in high school as maybe a 15, 16-year-old poet And, um, so say rather, I imagine myself in a place before language imprisoned itself with words. So right away I knew that this thing, whatever was going on with me, my inability or, uh, or, or, uh, or ability or, you know, anxiety or, um, you know, lack of confidence within it, that, that it was a system to be broken because it was f- it was not infinite. That there was only certain amount of words we could u- use to describe that certain pain. And, you know, everything coming from, you know, m- uh, my background, a lot of the work even early on because of things that's, has sort of had happened to me as a child and just the situations that were thrown into in this world, that, um, I was always looking how, how to express something that there, there, that there's no language for, right? How to ar- how to voice that thing and, and when I was little, the only thing I could ever think of was, like, this, "Ah!" You know, it's a, it's, it's, it's just this, it's, uh, it's, it's a sound, right? It's some sonic ability because there's no word there that actually captures the depth or the intensity of the pain or the experience, you know? You say, "Oh, I'm so excited," or, "Oh, that... I'm so sad," but that word doesn't really capture the, the excitement of a, of a, of a really awesome experience, and sadness doesn't capture the pain that the heart feels inside of a body when it's, when it's broken.
1Mm-hmm. I had actually talked a lot about language and words as symbols, um, to my students where I'm teaching your poetry collection, The Devil's Workshop. I'd even told them a little bit about Ferdinand de Saussure in terms of, like, the signifier and the signified, because we were talking a lot about Richard Hugo in terms of, like, depending on the sound of words to kind of make, you know, meaning in order to kind of translate, like, a feeling or a meaning or a message or an emotion or an identity that just words can't express or contain. So I really appreciate that.
Speaker 2Nice.
1Moving on to the next question. You grew up in Moses Lake, Washington. It's a small town-
Speaker 2Small town
1nestled in the flat rural desert of the Columbia Basin that had a consistent population of 10,000 and less when you were growing up. Mm-hmm. I looked that up. But at some point in your early 20s, you decided to uproot yourself to the biggest city in the United States, New York City, population 8 million in the early '90s. Right now it's 8.8 million, so it hasn't Grown, grown, but it's, it's a sufficient shift in the early '90s. And you moved to New York City with nothing but $500 in your pocket, and this is just incredulous to me, but what made you decide to risk it all and move to New York?
Speaker 2You know, um, I-- well, first of all, I always felt that, that I was an artist. I always felt that I wanted to do some artistic thing. I didn't know what yet. I didn't know if it was gonna be poetry or film or photography or playwriting. But, um, early on there in Washington State, you know, I became very interested in Spike Lee's work, um, in, in filmmaking. And I remember-- I can't remember where I was, but somewhere they were selling a book, and it was like, uh, Do the Right Thing screenplay. And so I bought the book, and I was still in high school, and, um, I remember reading it and just kinda seeing, like, the curtain, you know, the, like, the curtain drawn and, you know, like, in Oz, like, and then you see that there's no mighty... And that's the thing about motion pictures is the suspension of disbelief because it's moving pictures. And actually, it's-- goes into my deep-rooted philosophy about how I teach poetics is to create that motion, uh, the suspension of disbelief by m- by having that many moving images and cutting. But at the, at the, at the back of that book, there was actually, like, um his information. It was like his production house, 50 Acres and a Mule. Mm-hmm. And it was-- And it had an address, and it was in Brooklyn. And not only that, it had a, a, a, a person's name, I think her name was Robin, and there was even a phone number, right?
1Wow.
Speaker 2So I just remember kind of sitting on it for a while, and I was like, "I'm gonna call, I'm gonna call this person and just say, you know, 'I'm such a fan, and I'm thinking about getting into film. What could I do?'" You know? So I call, I call the phone and, um, and there's-- someone answers, and it's the person's name in the book, and we start having this conversation. And it wasn't like, "Oh, go away, kid." It was a real conversation that sort of had been sort of creating this, like, at least, not a relationship, but at least they knew who I was when I'd call. So that really excited me about New York. And so then I started this, uh, through NYU, a school continuation program, um, to make film. A, a small, like, a, like two-month film, uh, workshop. And so you're there, you're, you're in New York City, you're in NYU, and, um, and yeah, you know, I mean, I, I, I got there with 500 bucks. My sister, who was a makeup artist at the time, knew a friend of hers who was a photographer, and he had a little spot in Soho. But I literally went there with $500 in my pocket, and he p- he put me up on his floor. Uh, he said, "You have two weeks." And so I just remember going into cafe shops and going into the coffee shops and pulling the little tabs that say 'roommate for rent.' And so I got a room. I saw a tab, like, room for rent, like $450 or something. So I call it, and it's this Italian guy from Italy, uh, gay Italian, just the sweetest, sweetest... Was my first real friend in New York, uh, Pietro. And, uh, I call him and I go to check out the apartment and, and it was nuts. It was in, on Grand Street in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, uh, between Mott and Elizabeth, if anyone knows those streets. And it's a, it's like a railroad apartment, so you walk in, there's the bathroom, which is this, this tiny little thing, the kitchen, and then the bedroom. So I'm walking in and I'm going Where's my, you know, where's the space? And he was like, "Right here." And in the kitchen that's, like, the size of this little area-
1Yeah
Speaker 2there's the kitchen. There's also a bathtub with a little thing that goes around it, and then, and then he had a little, like, cafe style little table that you could sit and eat. And, and he said, "Oh, well, at night you just move that and you lay your little, little s- futon down right there." So I had a little roll thing, and, and that was my first apartment in New York City. It was, it was on Grand Street. Wow. And I, and I was literally just sleeping in the space that went into the bedroom, which of course he had, right? Um, but aside from that, you know, like, getting there, getting into that, that film program, seeing what New York was, the energy, the, the artists. And back then in the early, early '90s, there was so much community there. There was so many... There was artistic community still. Um, there was art. It, it, there was art places like, uh, uh, 2B, 2B, which was this crazy art, um, outside structure, just this monstros- monstrosity of, like, uh, art building up from the ground in this dirt area, um, where I first met one of my, one of my dear friends from the time, Richard Hambleton, a, a, a serious, serious sort of burnt out, drugged out po- or painter there But so immediately I started getting all these things, but within the film school itself that I went there for and still kind of cultivating these connections with 40 Acres and a Mule, um, one of the gals in, in the, um, in the film school that I was, that I was in, uh, she was, she was married to Lee Ranaldo from Sonic Youth, and they were just going through a divorce. And so the, you know, she was spending a lot of time with the film cohort. We'd go, you know, have coffee together, have breakfast, stuff like that, just really bonding. 'Cause since it's a, since it's through the continuing education, it's not like we, we all had residency there. We were, you know... People were coming in from, you know, um, different parts of the country to just to do that. And I had my apartment there, of course. But, uh, she told me, she said, 'cause I was talking about poetry, she said, "Hey, you know, there's this place called the Nuyorican Poets Cafe." And I was like, "What?" And she was like, "Yeah, it's this place where you go and you can read poetry on Friday nights." And so, uh, it was this woman named Amanda that actually turned me on to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, and I, I gotta tell you, like, as soon as I got there, like, film was obliterated in my mind. And I f- and I saw what I really wanted to do and how I wanted to be, and this place that's so anti-institution and gave vo- gave y- uh, voice and agency to you in an immediate way, and it was a raucous, you know, uh, drunken kinda crowd that would immediately... You, you had, you had feedback immediately if you were good or if you were bad. You know, they'd boo you off the stage. But, but yeah, so that, that's, that was the... You know, I just knew I had to be in New York City. I knew New York was the center of the world, and that's where I had to be if I was gonna be an artist.
1No, like, and I'm glad that you've like, you know, connected. I did not know that you had gone to, like, film school. Like, that's insane. It makes me think about how when I was younger, there was a period of time, I mean, I had always known I wanted to be a writer, but there was this period of time where I wanted to be an actor. Not an actress, I wanted to be an actor.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1And I, because I felt like saying actor was more serious. Yeah. And no, and I, and I love Spike Lee. Like, I was, I had taught BlacKkKlansman here on Notre Dame campus- Nice when I was a TA- Yeah for film, television, and theater. And you know, like, I love any kind of Spike Lee joint.
Speaker 2Yeah. Yeah, speaking of Spike Lee joints, I, I didn't finish the program 'cause I got arrested three times in Washington Square Park for smoking joints. Yeah. Oh my God. So that was the, that was my brief, my brief interaction with, uh, NYU.
The Stoop Workshop Era
1Wait, but w- going back to the New York Poets Cafe, like, you, you were under the tutelage of Bob Holman and Steve Cannon, and I heard that you participated in their weekly Friday workshops, which were called A Gathering of the Tribes.
Speaker 2The Stoop.
1The Stoop.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1And you literally became part of what I, well, what I think a lot of us now, um, consider, like, a legendary second wave of poets and writers like Tracy Morris, Maggie Estep, Willie Perdomo, Paul Beatty, Reggie, um, Gabico, Edwin Torres, Reggie Gaines, Bill Sia, and Crystal Williams.
Speaker 2Yes.
1A cohort that feels almost mythological now. And so I really want you to tell me, what was it like to be forming your voice inside that particular room with those particular individuals at that particular moment?
Speaker 2Wow. Yeah, I mean, I don't know if at the time any of us realized, like, what, how, how magical that collective was. You know, each of us coming from different areas, you know, several of them, you know, Crystal's the president of Rhode Island School of Divine Now, uh, Design. Um, you know, Tracy Morris teaches at the University of Iowa. Paul Beatty teaches at Columbia. You know, Reggie Echevarria's more of a theater activist. I mean, uh, Maggie Estep became this rock goddess of the 20th c- century, you know? And, and so every, every... It was, it was a, it was a disparate group of, of people, and this was at a time before SLAM was what SLAM is now, right? 'Cause we didn't know what it was. We, we just all knew we wanted, um, a stage. I think a lot of us, the central drive was o- uh, for, for several of them, I don't know that much for myself, was to become famous, and a lot of them did become famous. And, um, but to, to go to a place where Steve Cannon would open his, his, his, his brownstone to us and, and had a, a, a small little gallery in his apartment and, and put out a, a literary journal called The Gathering of Tribes, which today still is one of the most influential and relative collection of multicultural voices and di- diverse voices, um, in New York City, um, and, uh, would open his place, and of course, Steve, Steve Cannon was blind, so he'd sit on the couch, uh, and he'd smoke cigarettes and drink Ballantine booze- Mm and, and a whole world circled around him, you know? So a lot of the influences were really awesome and positive, and a lot of them were really shady and everything, but the, the door was open. And then Bob, Bob Holman came in and would sort of act as like the, the workshop leader, you know? 'Cause a lot of us were, you know, he was like maybe, uh, a decade or two older than, than, than the rest of us, and so that was like kinda holding the glue. But, um, it was amazing the people that came through there. It was every Friday night. We'd try out, we'd, we'd read our poems to each other. And he always said, "Just the downside. Just the downside." You know, like, uh, he, he didn't wanna hear, he didn't wanna hear any praise. So it was almost a workshop where I would really call it my first MFA.
1Mm.
Speaker 2And the... And you couldn't, you couldn't say, "Oh, I really liked this," or, "I really liked that," or, "I thought that was good." That was, that was all just wasted time and energy. You were only to hit it hard critically on what wasn't working. And so that really, you know, that really kinda led the way. And, and, and we trusted each other. You know, we, we respected each other. And then there we go. I mean, there's nothing cooler than being, than, than doing that and then walking right out into a street in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, going into a venue where there's always like 100 people, audience that mostly not poets, you know. They're, they're there, uh, because the institution had already become this thing, and they're judging you 'cause it's slam poetry. But to see right away the, the, the work that you're doing in the workshop, and then you go and you get to actually throw it out there live on stage, and then getting immediate response. And of course, you know, uh, by the mid-'90s, that place had blown up and, you know, from m- they were... MTV was, uh, filming a lot of the poets. A lot of the poets were on Lollapalooza. Um, it just seemed like a, a lot of the poets were everywhere.
1Yeah. That's, that's making me think about, um, when I was doing research on you, um, in preparation for this interview, I had actually saw that, um, the Nuyorican Grand Slam champion after you became really famous. I don't remember what their name was, but I can see- Saul
Speaker 2Williams
1There you go. Yeah. Saul Williams. Yeah, and I was like, wow, like so much was like happening within that space. Like, I really do feel like it was like a pipeline. And like you said, it was a pipeline before you guys even knew that it was really a pipeline.
Speaker 2Yeah, I mean, I think, so for '95 when I was the Grand Slam, uh, it was my angst, it was my... It was, it was, you know, I was a very angsty, you know, coming, especially coming from the Pacific Northwest right at the same time that all of the Seattle bands were blowing up, that we called it, you know, angst rock or whatever. Yeah. Um, I would typ- I would do things like, you know, smash the microphone At the end of my performance. And I remember the sound guy always complaining to Miguel, the, the founder and owner of the cafe, he'd be like, "This guy is going through, you know, these are nice microphones," and he's just tearing... And Miguel would just be like, "Let him, let him, let him do it." You know, because it was, it was, it was real, you know? It was actually real. Yeah. And, um, and so th- th- but that was a marking of the end of a certain point in slam. And then Saul was the next Grand Slam winner in '96, and he's... Saul changed the way slam became... He actually, like, coined a slam aesthetic, I guess, in the way that... 'Cause after Saul, what seemed to happen is that everyone started to wanna sound like him. And, and yeah. And then, um, you know, Bob and a few other people, again, you know, I don't know the producers or what they... They made a movie about slam and, you know, Saul and several of the poets from the cafe were the, were the actors in the movie, and it was a vehicle to promote. Um, it was actually about Black incarceration- Ooh and, um, and different things e- within, you know, society, uh, multicultural society. But, but the, the, the vessel itself was poetry and the, and slam itself. So, you know, it sh- busted up from there, and yeah. Yeah, the rest is history. I'm one of those people.
1Gosh. I love just closing my eyes and imagining you, like, going through microphones.
Speaker 2Oh, yeah. Yeah. Uh, yeah. It was-
1Like, that's like... It makes me think about how, like, we're, we grow up being taught, like, you know, like, cultural rules, like, social, like, societal kind of expectations. It's wonderful to hear that there are spaces where one can kinda be free to kind of express themselves and to, like, find a coalition of people, people that aren't necessarily poets who are just there for the love of sound, and the love of freedom, and the love of expression. I feel like that's something that we don't really see nowadays, especially with the fact that public spaces are becoming smaller and smaller. Mm-hmm. And the younger generation, my generation, are becoming more isolated and contained within the internet. Like, it's... That's why I love hearing about l- your, your life story, because it's just so fascinating to me because I could never. I, I could never.
Burnout and Lost Decade
1Um- In a previous interview with Letras Latinas that you did in 2014 with, um, Lauro Vazquez, um, you describe yourself as getting burnt out on slam poetry and getting burnt on drugs. You left the slam poetry scene after you won the championship in '95, and for the next 10 years you worked as an informal tattoo artist and painter. But you've described yourself in that period as being both emotionally lost and spiritually shackled to your drug addiction. And it was during those 10 years various griefs and struggles affected you. I know you left New York City in 1997 after the passing of, um, famous poet Allen Ginsberg. Um, and though you had moved back in with your parents in Moses Lake to put yourself back together again, I think you continued to relapse on cocaine and heroin. And then in 2005, your tattoo parlor was raided by police, and you were arrested on suspicion of involvement with a missing person murder case. Though the body was found and evidence was able to clear you of all the charges, I know that the community had already begun to ostracize you. And so I wanna ask a very deep question. How do you understand this 10-year period now as the events that made you the man and the poet that you are today?
Speaker 2No. Yeah. Um, wow. Well, um, you know, I started, I s- I started getting into drugs in a bad way in New York City right around the time I was the Grand Slam champion. In fact, I wasn't even there the night, um, Saul won in '96. I was, uh, busy getting high or something and, and, you know, I remember, um, letting a lot of people down for not being there to sort of pass on the thing. But, uh, you know, I was, I was, I was the stereotypical, uh, um, what do you call it? Pr- really predictable New York City junkie, you know? Um, and, um, and yeah, and that, that, that led to, you know It led als- you know, amazingly again to my, a deep friendship with painter Richard Hamilton, um, who was a brilliant, brilliant painter and who I learned a lot about art from and, um, and also, you know, like how to, you know, um, yeah, just, just how to survive, you know? Um, he was really-- he, he came up early as a, as a Canadian artist, hit the New York scene hard, um, got a lot of notoriety, became famous with Basquiat and Keith Haring, and his pieces were actually going for a little more than them in the early '90s, which were around 20, 30. But, um, but, um, Richard unfortunately never got out of drugs and, and then those other guys did and became more famous. And then of course, Basquiat did the most famous thing you can do, is die. And, um, but, uh... So at the time I was hanging out with Richard, you know, he was, y- you know, people would turn and walk the other way, especially people from the art world. And, uh, and around 2005, some younger, um, Russian, uh, art dealers and, and, and sort of space makers in the art world re-rediscovered him and, you know. So Richard had a fantastic end of his life from like 2005 to 2015. He had one m- one-man solo shows like Giorgio Armani were the sponsors. Um, they were in London, Madrid, New York City, all the major, major big actors. You know, Dennis Hopper has his piece, like Bruce Willis. And, and he really got to, got to sort of And, and even though all of that success and his pieces were going for over a million dollars a painting at the time, even though all that Richard still, still, you know, would, stayed in drugs and died a junkie unfortunately. And, um, one of his collectors put, was putting him up at, ironically, at the Trump, Trump Hotel in Soho. Mm. And w- and part of the deal was Richard would give him a painting a month, and then he'd get to stay there. But Richard was so bad that they still couldn't even honor the deal because, you know, whether he had a painting or not, some, even if he did, he wouldn't give it, give it to you. He was just, he was a real kind of, uh, you know, he was a loving guy, but at the same time, uh, he could really hurt people if, if, if they wanted to, you know? So seeing that and, um, it was actually my friend Craig Smith who came and rescued me from New York City from Ellensburg, Washington, uh, which is how we ended up in Ellensburg and where I met you. Um, you know, he was, he's, it's, it's fortunate in life to have friends that care about you so much that when they know you're in need, um... And so I didn't even ask Craig, uh, to show up. He just got a one-way ticket there and showed up, and it scared the heck out of me, and he said, "We're, I'm taking you home." And I'm sure if he didn't, you know, I would, I would not be here today to, to tell the story, you know? So I, so I got out of there, then, you know, started my, um, own tattooing practice. Um, I left for a year, came back, and was apprenticing in, again back in New York under, uh, Jonathan's shop, Fun City Tattoo. And, you know, that's a, you know, that's this old saying, I did a good thing for a bad guy. Um, and Jonathan's not a bad guy, he's just, he's this very, very, uh, he's very New York City, you know? And, and, and encompasses everything that's New York. So I learned a lot about art, I learned a lot about business, I learned a lot about the hustle. Um, I learned a lot about, you know, how to survive in the d- in, in the mean streets of New York, so to speak. And, um, and then to be back again in the zen, what I'd call the zen of Washington, and trying to re- rehabilitate something. And, um, you know, but unfortunately, the person that I learned how to do a tattoo business from, you know was, was, you know, very shady in that sense. So it's what I knew. So th- that's what was happening. And then, yeah, unfortunately, um, uh, you know, this kid came into the shop. He was friends with one of my good friends that was also, uh, working at the tattoo parlor, and he disappeared. And, um, and I was the last person to see him alive, you know. So immediately I was, uh, suspect number one and, and, you know, within, within weeks, uh, it was definitely a person of interest, and then shop was raided, and I managed to get away actually, and I was on the run for several months until, um, I was captured. And sitting in there and, um, and there was a really huge snowfall that, that winter, and it didn't... and it lasted for about six months. And when the snowpack melted in the, in, in spring, um, someone was able to find, f- saw the crash. It was in the tree line off the interstate. And so, um, that revealed everything, and then they were able to go and figure out. And, and, you know, all along I'd been maintaining my ins- i- innocence. But, you know, I mean, it just kind of goes to show how the justice system, especially for, you know, I mean, I'm a, a Brown person in, you know, this really rural, you know, uh, good old boy town. And of course, I'm the one that gets, you know, gripped up in it. So, um The university is where I found sanctuary. You know? It's where I had one, one... A few people that really still believed in me, and one was a, a woman named Dr. Bobby Cummings who ran the Africana and Black Studies program there at Central. And she just said, "Get your butt on campus," 'cause it's the only place I wasn't being messed with with, with the cops.
1Mm-hmm.
Speaker 2And, um, and yeah, uh, it's so... People have always asked me, especially my closest friends and family, is like, "Why did you stay there?" Like, "Why did you stay to try to rebuild your, your image, your relationship, you know? Um, why would you wanna be in Ellensburg to do that where you were, you were, you know, demonized so, so badly, and, you know, whis- whispers about you everywhere you go, and still, um, you know, uh... Why would you wanna do that there?" And I think it's because it's the place I failed the hardest, that I, that I just wanted to, to, to hold myself to do the next right thing, and then make the next right thing, and the next right thing. So now, I mean, oddly enough, you know, I was the biggest story one year of, you know, uh, s- on the, on the news for the, for the, you know, the newspaper top stories of the year. And now I'm a different story, you know, a, a really awesome pillar of society. You know, I work, I work on service boards. I do nonprofit stuff. Um, you know, um, so that's called from, uh... We used to call that, Steve Canham would call it, uh, from the birdcage to the penthouse. Flip the script, right? And, um, I think it was really important that I did it there, and I didn't run from, from my, uh, the people that were slinging arrows at me. And, um, and yeah, so all of that makes it, makes me into who I am today. And, and I go forward. I always have, I always have the street in me, you know, but also I have academia in me. You know, we do things. Uh, you went through the McNair Scholars Program. Yeah. I go through McNair. You know, you learn, you get take those etiquette classes- Yeah learn how to put on a suit. You know how to put on a jacket when need be, you know. It's like, uh, the first rule of rhetoric. You know, when the audience changes, the message changes, too, so.
1Gosh, I wish you could say that to my writing and rhetoric students. That, that was a very difficult lesson. I will say in terms of, like, how to kind of, you know, assess your audience to see what they're kind of seeking in you in order to kind of build that trust. Yeah. Yeah. Ugh. Thank you. Yeah. Like I, I especially... You had actually answered one of my, the questions I was planning to ask a little bit later because, like, not only did you, like, kind of go to CWU, but you also enrolled as a freshman when you were 35 years old. Like, you know, like- Yeah, non-trad that was, like, amazing. And then, like, you know, like it's, it's so fascinating to me that as someone who has suffered from a long history of drug addiction but also as, like, a slam poet where poetry is distinctly, like, anti-academic, that a university became a place of refuge
Sanctuary in Academia
1for you. Like- Mm-hmm I really wanted to ask you what responsibil- what, what responsibilities does that put on institutions and on the people inside of them to create that kind of safety for other students that are arriving maybe broken or undercounted?
Speaker 2Yeah. Well, it's how, you know, it's, it, it lived up to its promises, you know? I mean, I'm still You know, there will always be that part of me that's anti-institution, right? There will always be that part that will never die that, that, that, that, that doesn't need permission to do anything, right? And, um, but at that point in my life, I needed, I needed, um, I needed step-by-step work, you know, and I found that in the university. And it's kinda like, um, you know, uh, Paulo Freire, that, uh, language and the power of reading is liberation, right? So the, so as I be- as, as I started to learn, um, I became more and more liberated from my past self. So the education as a vessel itself became that transformation for me. And then, um, and then a- actually when... You know, I, I was always writing from the café, but I was never an academic poet or never studied craft of writing. But as, as I was starting to get into those then upperclassmen classes, um, even before MFA, it's, I, I s- there was, all of a sudden there was language to what I was already doing. I would be doing something, I didn't know it was called that, maybe anaphora, you know, it'd be repetition of a phrase or word, and then someone would come in, or my teacher would say, "Oh, that's, you know, great use of anaphora." And I'm like, "What is... I don't even know what that is." You know? Um, so it be- it gave me, it g- it started to build up the part, again, going back to that first question of language as trauma, of, of understanding that, yeah, you know what? Um, I don't have to... I can tear down this barrier. I can tear down this wall now. Um, I can be visceral with my images. I can be imaginative with the way or, uh, the process experimental with how I wanna break language and sort of mend it back together. And so the, the, the, the university experience was really, really ground, uh, was really fundamental for me in changing who I was at its core. I call it like, uh, there's like s- s- you know, sedimentary rock, which is weathered easily by the weather. There's, uh, metamorphical rock, which also, uh... Or, or igneous, which is who you are and the bloodline comes down, it's generational, things like that. But the metamorphic rock is the one that's changed by heat and pressure. And so my, I call my, my time in, in university as that heat and pressure moment where I actually changed into something else. And the way I thought... I mean, I remember the first time I was trying to do the right thing is, this was way early on, but there was, like, a cell phone. Someone left a cell phone. And it was the harde- it sounds dumb, but, like, it was the hardest thing for me to do, was to turn it in to the, to the deal. Mm. And I just remember sitting there looking at it, just going, "Man," you know And then, but I did it. I did the right thing, you know? And, um, but, and then in terms of academics, just having that pressure and not, and just that pain, you know? Like I'll tell some people, "If you're, if you don't cry in, in grad school, you're, you're, you're not, you're not working a g- a good grad school program," you know? So, uh, yeah.
1No, that's... Yeah, no, I've, I've cried my share of cries in grad school.
Speaker 2Mm-hmm.
1Hopefully they- Yeah mellow down now that I'm gonna- Yeah be doing my dissertation writing.
Speaker 2And it actually fulfilled this really interesting quote that, you know, I early on had studied Richard Hugo as a, in the high schooler, but Richard Hugo had said this one thing I never really understood is that you could take the most absurd stance in academia and still be legitimate in the academic world. And I never really understood that. And all of a sudden, so now I just, because I'm in academia, I can, my story actually, you know, resonates and... Or it d- it, it doesn't, my story actually is accepted as legitimate and th- and that there's power there behind it, and th- that I, those experiences are rich in a way that now I can make meaning, um, from something that was so chaotic and broken. I can sort of in a mosaic way connect overall to make something really beautiful.
1Mm-hmm. Oof. Very powerful song. Really love that you also brought up Richard Hugo. I feel like he's, like, such a huge inspiration for me because of you. You, you pretty much passed that on to me. I love reading his essays on, on a Triggering Town, and I even taught that to my students. Um, something I really wanna touch on is, um, you've described a pivotal moment in your recovery from drug addiction when you underwent what you have described as a spiritual deliverance-
Speaker 2Hmm
1that our listeners will probably understand more easily as a kind of, um, maybe exorcism in which evil and oppressive spirits residing inside of you were expelled. And you've said that the healing and the direction you received from that s- experience was more powerful than any drug that you had ever taken in your life. I wanna ask you about that experience on the record, and I wanna ask it with full transparency about why. So I'm writing a dissertation that proposes that curanderismo, a traditional folk healing practice from Mexico, can be utilized as a literary critical method. Um, reading and writing text the way a curandera reads and, um, heals a body, diagnosing colonial wounds and tracing healing gestures in the effort to recover psychoanalysis on what the enlightenment had suppressed: magic and ritual.
Speaker 2Hmm.
1And so when I read your work through that lens, I can see curanderismo operating in your series of Harrowing of Hell poems with the figure of your mother as la curandera operating, um, as she would, like, place one hand in the air, a radio tower, a transmitter from this to that, and who would enter your mind by locking eyes with you, um, capable of seeing, quote, "Your spirit you locked in a room or cell for 700,000 years." What's interesting about this is that in curanderismo, the curandero, curandera works within the material, the mental, and the spiritual levels. Often we see it in the material, in that they'll take herbs and they'll transform that into some type of tincture that they can then put on, upon the person in order to kind of heal them. So that's, like, working with the material level. But you take it to the mental and the spiritual levels. The p- the, the levels that, like, only a professional curandera, curandero can attain, where they can actually enter into an individual's mind, can kind of navigate that space, or even kind of return a soul back into a body. And so I believe that your collection's exorcism can actually be reconstituted as a limpia, or a cleansing- Yeah both as a modern spiritual event and perhaps also as a new poetic form. And so I wanted to ask you, do you have a relationship with curanderismo or with folk healing practices more broadly? And whether you do or not, what is your understanding of the relationship between spiritual healing and the act of writing?
Speaker 2Uh, you know, so first off, you know, I was born into a house of curanderismo. My grandmother was a curandera, and so, you know, a lot of the, uh, Mexicans early in the late '60s and '70s that ended up in Moses Lake, uh, kinda were a collective that all came kind of... You know, not all, but a lot of them came from the Valley, you know, crossed there and were families, uh, that either settled or moved from, like, McAllen, Brownsville, Corpus, the Valley of Texas. And then, uh, you know, would migrationally work the fields and, you know, there was a big group of them that sorta settled up in, in, in Washington, you know, Yakima, uh, Toppenish.
1Was this also due to, um, the Bracero Program, maybe?
Speaker 2Yeah.
1Mm-hmm.
Speaker 2Yeah. Yeah, for sure. Coming in, working, um- So my grandmother was the town's spiritual curandera. So from a very young age, um, you know, I would help her. I would gather up the, the, the, the weeds that she would use to sort of wipe over the body. Um, uh, she would use holy oil, holy oil blessed by a Catholic, um, priest, and we'd gather that up and get the egg and, you know. You can almost imagine me as this little kid with a little black bag walking with her. And so the, the deal was is a lot of the people there that, that only spoke Spanish didn't really trust American medicine.
1Yep.
Speaker 2So, uh, they would call my grandmother when, uh, when, when they were sick or had illness. And just like you were saying, it was a limpia to, you know, maybe someone had the, the, the ojo. Mm-hmm. The, the, you know, uh, like ojo malo, like someone gave them a bad look and it's affected them. Or for any, any medical reason really. And so I became really involved in the ceremony itself and watching it happen. But the, I think the most formative thing of that was that I would see healing happen immediately. So it was a, it was, it was early on as a young kid that I saw the faith, that faith, what f- what role faith had. You know, and what she was doing literally was reciting the Lord's Prayer over and over, you know, um, um, i- on the person, and then she would crack the egg and put it in the bowl and, and then, uh, you'd look for the ojo also. It's like the spirit that would, that would heal and protect, and you'd leave that there along the bedside. And, you know, a lot of the times healing manifested immediately. I mean, people were, were completely healed. So I saw that as, as something, right?
Deliverance and Holy Spirit
Speaker 2Um, but it also, you know, uh, it, it's like in Christianity today I f- we have this thing what I would call, um, the spirit of, the spirit of Christianity. I could just say it that way. Which is this, which is this sort of, uh, secular, um, uh, uh- barrier that tries to keep people from accessing the Holy Spirit, one of the gifts, you know, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, right? So the Holy Spirit lives within s- with- inside of you. And, you know, a lot of the Christian churches you go to, it's about, you know, getting the largest congregation, having them give the most money. We're gonna build a new structure. It's all this stuff. I see a lot, I see a lot of, um, deceit. I see a lot of like, um, you know, judgment within. You know, the Lord does not judge. I... You know, current, current climate, I go to churches. I go, I, I try to go to d- a lot of different churches. I'll hear division amongst the, the, the message, you know. And, um, uh, uh, 2 Paul, you know, uh, Christ is saying, "If for anyone who doesn't love their neighbor, then you too are... it's the same as committing murder, and you will not have, uh, uh, eternal salvation in heaven," right? So just the division of, of not loving your neighbor According to Christ is the same as, as murdering someone. And so, so I look to find ways that are, that are living in the Holy Spirit so that, you know, and the Holy Spirit also has manifestations, whether it's speaking in tongues, uh, whether it's the ability to interpret tongues, it's laying on hands, healing. So, um, those deliverances, you know, um, did look a lot like exorcisms, you know, that this, a lot of the places I had had. And what, what a lot of the people that are in, in my sort of, uh, religious philosophy is that spirits and demons can up- up- uh, uh, at- attach themselves to you so they can oppress you. Whether or not they're living inside of you, that's a different, a different sort of thing. But, so a deliverance, a limpia, uh, is, is basically someone delivering you, d- uh, guiding you through this thing, through, through faith, uh, uh, with the Holy Spirit. God, God is doing it all. The person is not the person doing it. It's, it's w- it's working through Christ and through God, and they're able to exercise those spirits either off of you or out of you. And it is very intense. And the first one, uh, you know, in the book, the, the, the, the curandera, um, or the deliverance person is a mother figure, my mother figure. But in real life, it was a woman that my mother knew that had really strong faith and was really magical, and that, that whole thing. And, um, and I try to recapture a lot of it in there, especially that part of the light, like i- and in light, I heard sound. And then, and, and literally at the end of that, of that deliverance, you know, um, I felt Christ's presence just swarm me, and a bolt of white light beaming into my head, um, as real as watching something on TV. And I have never even experienced closely that emotional pure joy of when that was happening. And now, you know, having the Holy Spirit and Christ, um, as my, as, as, as the person that I, uh, that, that I call my higher power, that, um, I'm able to access that. It's really beautiful. Um, it still wasn't enough. You know, what happened was because of, I, I, I, um, I was taking, I was going to Cuba a lot, and I, um, wanted to r- uh, respect all cultures, and someone somehow, uh, introduced me to a house of Santería.
1Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
Speaker 2And then I started, um, going in there. I eventually became a member of the house of Santería, and you sort of work your way up through there. Um, uh, you know, but that's So I struggle even in saying this because in Cuba, you know, Santería is, is, is, is their religion. You know, Catholicism and, and the Catholic Church figured out that if they put, if they allow other sort of Black saints to stand behind, you know, uh, the, the, the, the regular saints, that then they can still keep their African population that was in Cuba that were all- Mm uh, ca- enslaved and, and be part of this new sort of branch of church. You know, it was still Catholicism, but so Santería kinda comes in behind that and props up other saints, you know. Um, like, you know, everyone wants to be Chango. Chango's- Yeah like this man, g- god of fertility and sexuality and strength. And, um, and, you know, that's, uh... There's a, there's a Cath- a, a Catholic saint, Santa Barbara, that- Yeah that, that's in front of Chango, you know. So there's all this stuff But I will say I was always conflicted because of my deep roots. So, so there was still, even though I had, uh, elevated myself to different levels within the, the, the church, Mano del Wrula specifically, um, you know, uh, there was still this dark presence for me that, that when I was honest, when I was quiet with my spirit, I could still feel. Now, I'm not saying that that's what it is for Cuba or for practitioners of Santeria, but it was for me. And so I needed a second deliverance, um, to, to move away from those idols that I had and, and, and ceremonies and sort of the bloodletting that, that also happens. And, um, and, and that was performed by one of my dearest friends, uh, in Ellensburg who actually, you know, uh... That was another very powerful, if not more violent deliverance than the first one. And, you know, and that was to really get the demon of alcoholism off of me that was trying to kill me and, you know, definitely would've been bad. I was completely immobile, um, wasn't, you know, wouldn't even get out of bed for two months just, um... And, and it was this, this like, uh, m- altar of saints and, uh, saints that was just put- putting all this energy on me to die. And so Clayton is his name, and, um, and you know, he's been a longtime brother of mine for, for many years, and he was able to... He had the strength. He, he's touched in that gift of the Holy Spirit of healing and prayer, and so he was able to enter into my home, and it was a, it was basically a three-day deliverance. And since then, it's almost been one year now, and since then, um, life has been beautiful and present with God and, and, um, and you know, my recovery in, in, in, you know, n- my re- my overall recovery has a strong spiritual component to it which, which is very important, I think was what's helps it, make it, makes it happen this time.
1Mm-hmm. No, like, and for our, our listeners, um, this might sound very strange to them, especially to those that are unfamiliar with curanderos or Santeria, but this is like- A type of cultural healing practice that you and I both grew up in.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1Yeah, no, I, I got so excited right now in your response when you said in those first deliverances, the ones you're writing about in The Devil's Workshop, you said that, like, looking back on that moment, you, you, in the light, you heard sound, and you felt the same kind of good feeling as when watching TV. When I was a young kid, around, say, maybe 9 to 10 years old, my mother actually took me to, um, a sobadora, a woman in, um, Granger, Washington, where I grew up, who, um, I've ha- I had susto, which is essentially, like, the curanderismo equivalent of, like, soul loss or PTSD, and that was due to, like, some traumatic things happening in my own childhood. And, um, I remember telling my students about this because I felt like, um, to them, in reading your collection, um, the first immediate response they get when they read it is that they can't help but put themselves in your position with this, like, curandera mother figure who's, like, attempting to kind of excise all these spirits from her son. And for them, they're, they're, they're experiencing it from, like, a place of, um, of disconnection, of, um, a lack of, like, resonance, and it's because within that disconnection, they're feeling all these things. They're feeling fear. They're feeling dread. They're feeling, um, pain. They're feeling, like, these evil spirits kind of weighing down on them in the process of reading your collection. And, um, but also, when they were thinking about it more realistically, they, it, it seemed frightening to be in a space with, like, an older adult and to have them kind of put their hands upon you and to kind of, like, shout these things and speak in tongues and, like, do all these, like, magical stuff to, like, excise you. For them, it was coming from, like, a place of, like, fear, and I remember telling them when I was a young girl and I had this, um, sobadora, like, heal me, um, she... I was literally stripped to just my underwear. She had pinned me to the ground. Um, she was attempting to, like, massage and, like, soothe me. There was, like, incense in the room, and I, I just wouldn't calm down. I was so frightened of being in this room with- Yeah this woman who I didn't know. And it wasn't until she turned on the television that I calmed down And she didn't turn on the television to, like, a channel, like a cartoon. She set it in between the channels, and she set it to static.
Speaker 2Mm.
1And the sound of the static entered the space. And the whole room, it's these old CRT televisions- Yeah so, like, there's blue light, and so suddenly there's light in this room, and I'm hearing this sound, and I feel like it replicates your language. Yeah. In light, I heard sound. And suddenly because of the light, it's very... It, it replicates in my head the creation of the, of the, of Earth, of the universe. Um, God, like, said, "Let there be light," and there was light. And once the light was in the room, I saw that she had made an altar out of the television. It's this big, thick CRT block televisions that we, most kids don't see anymore. Yeah. I grew up with those. I still had those. And she had set up the Virgin Mary, La Virgen de Guadalupe, on top of it, and she was covered in coins and pesos and American dollars. And, um, it's almost like La Virgen became a satellite.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1And the static was like a replication of, like, the cosmic sound of the universe, which scientifically it kind of is. A, a- Mm it captures a little bit of the, the Big Bang- Yeah so to speak, in that resonance. And, um, it almost felt like she was using La Virgen's statue as a satellite to kind of call upon La Virgen de Guadalupe, who usually is representative of Coatlicue in the indigenous pantheon of, like, the Aztec gods and goddesses. And it's almost like she entered into La Sobradora's body, and I calmed down.
Speaker 2Nice.
1And she healed me.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1And so it's so fascinating that you had a very similar experience to what I did- Yeah when I was a young kid.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1And, and, you know, just another thing for our listeners to also understand, curanderismo, you know, is indigenous science.
Speaker 2Yes.
1It, it has, like, factual, like, worldly, like, evidence behind it. It's not something to kind of be considered as, like, backwards or savage or,
Speaker 2um- It's advanced, actually
1it's very advanced. Like- Yeah most curanderos, curanderas who work on the material level, they have a memorized inherent knowledge, a pharmacopeia of, like, maybe over 1,500 herbs at their disposal. Yeah. It's insane. So yeah, no, thank you for sharing that. Yeah. I, I really hope that a lot of people can kind of learn a little bit about the other, like, alternative branches for healing- Yeah especially because when it comes to medical institutions, the lack of, like, healthcare- Yeah um, sometimes it's not affordable or accessible. Yeah.
Speaker 2And what I liked about that, though, and, and how our experiences are shared is, and, and, you know, some people could think, oh, this is the spiritual, or it's, you know, weird or whatever. It's actually scientific because your experience and, and my experience are similar to so many other experiences, right? So it's like a hypothesis. It's a, it's a, it's, it's, it's tested, and the, and, you know, and then when it's tested, the results are always the same. So that's how you know it's provable, right? It's sound, sound thesis or sound
1Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Now, I want to talk with the time that we have left about your three collections: Barbarian at the Gate, Diamond Grove Slave Tree, and The Devil's Workshop. And so you've shared in a previous interview that your chapbook title, Barbarian at the Gate, is an allusion to the Greek poet C.B., and I hope I'm saying his last name right, Cav- Capetys?
Speaker 2Capetys,
1yeah. Poem Ithaca, but also his 1904 poem, "Waiting for the Barbarians." And that for you, this chapbook was a way of announcing a separation between yourself and the academy you were entering to declare yourself the barbarian at the gate of American poetry. And now a decade later, having won the PSA Chapbook Fellowship, having graduated fr- um, with an ISU, Iowa State University MFA, that led to the development of your first poetry collection, Diamond Grove Slave Tree, and now having won a prestigious Eric Hoffer Medallion Provocateur Award for The Devil's Workshop, I wanna ask, do you still feel like the barbarian, or has your relationship to that self-positioning shifted?
Speaker 2I think that's a question to ask my colleagues. Uh, yeah, you know, yeah. The simple answer is yes. I think that, you know, um, you know, it's like, uh, you know, I was talking to a dear friend before coming here, and I was like, "Ah, it's Notre Dame. What am I gonna do? Should I put on my jacket?" They're like, "Man, just be, you know, be, be you, be you. Be a rock star. Walk in there, you know, own the place." And, um, I can't change who I am, you know? And, uh, there's no, there's no outside, you know, outfit that I'm gonna throw on that all of a sudden's gonna make me not be Javier, you know? And, um, and so, uh, can I, can I enter into those rooms and be civil? Absolutely. Can I enter into those rooms and be, uh, be the, the, the, you know, the, the person who steals the show of conversation? Yes. And, and interact with them on an academic level and, uh, in an intellectual level that, that is, you know, uh, excellent. You know, I don't wanna say dominant, but, you know. Yes. Um, the flip side is that, that they can't come with me to places I go, right? And that I would like to, you know, in a way, if we have time, I wanna end on a Miguel Pinero poem, one of the founders of, of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. Um, he had these poems, Conversations With Christ, and one that always stuck with me was that, um, it's, it's Conversations With Christ One. You see, and I see, and when you see what I see, the space between you and I disappears. But I still despair because I don't know if you've done what I did in order to see what I've seen. Right? Yeah. And so it just, it just sums it up there. It's like, um, you know, I have full, you know, carte blanche in any, in any social, cultural s- situation. I've already been there. I've lived that experience. And here on the other end, you know, here comes the barbarian at the gate. And but I've also, you know, but I also live in that, in that world too. So the, the two... You know, and to bring it down to more of a, a more, a layman's term, it's the page versus the stage, you know, which was the, the great debate between slam poetry and academic poetry. You know, I think, I think the data's in though, and there's so many s- s- so many great academic poets now who had their f- formation in slam that, that, you know, th- those gates have been kicked wide open. And if anything else, the, the, the, the gates that included academia and institutions are having to restructure, if not fully collapse, in order to make way for what this new, what this new academic artist is.
1Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. That's a lot to think about. I really love that you read that Miguel Pinón poem. Yeah. I'm gonna definitely reverse this and go back and watch it, 'cause, like, I feel like I need to write that down. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Something I really wanted to ask you, uh, because I thought it was so cool that someone wrote this in your introduction for Barbarian at the Gate. Thomas Sayers Ellis had actually selected and introduced your chapbook, Barbarian at the Gate, saying, quote, "No one fucks with fixed traditional Western forms or controls linear excess, the oral downpour of ideas onto the page, like Javier Cavazos." Awesome intro. What did it mean to have a poet of his lineage, you know, someone so committed to the anti-academic, but also to Black experimental form and community, be the one to hand you that early recognition?
Speaker 2Uh, you know, um, it was, you know, it was quite, uh, you know, like a comet crashing into me. You know, I mean, Thomas and Major Jackson, Janice Lowe, several other, Tracy K. Smith, um, you know, they, they were at Harvard, and they started the Dark Room Collective, um, which was one of the, uh, you know, early, late 19th century or tw-... late 20th century, uh, still into today, a gathering place for Black poets and academics to be, to, to, to have a cl- a space claimed for themselves. Um, if they had a higher guru leader, it would be Amiri Baraka, um, and just did a lot. You know, Cave Canem was still, you know, um, you know... All these organizations like that are so fundamental into, into, um, you know, um, harvesting and developing these, these, uh, diverse voices that are so important and so relevant in, in institutions, in academia, in the poetic world today, um, in so many levels. I mean, I think Tracy K. Smith has a poem in, in a capsule in space now. I mean, it'll be there for when the alien finds us, you know? So, um, so yeah, you know, unfortunately, um, because of Thomas' own actions, you know, um, his career, uh, came to a critical halt, you know, rightfully so. Um, and, um, uh, so it's, so I'm conflicted.
1Mm-hmm.
Speaker 2Right? Um, he was no doubt a genius- Mm and, and one of the most intelligent, uh, creative persons I've ever known, and, um, but it comes with a lot of, comes with a lot of, uh, uh, tragedy with it
No Redemption Arc
1I wanted to shift more towards "The Devil's Workshop" now. So there's actually a series of poems all under the same title, "The Devil's Workshop," that kind of form the spine in the collection. And you've said that the addiction and the behavior in those poems are only the symptoms of the original trauma, um, the speaker being sexually abused by a family relative and, um, other such things, and that you ended the sequence with the image of abuse itself, the cause underneath the demonic behavior and shame. Can you say more about what it means to write a book that refuses the redemption arc, that doesn't quite resolve into recovery? Or rather, is there redemption? Is this the start of the healing, this return to faith as a healing recovery or survival?
Speaker 2Mm-hmm. I mean I don't think that, that there, that there is a resolve ever. I don't think that there is... Th- there's not a destination. Um, it's like in Alcoholics Anonymous, for example. Like, you don't graduate from it. It's a lifelong thing. So you don't graduate or resolve trauma. It, it, it's always there, no matter how hard you work at it. So it's a daily practice. You know, it's therapy. It's, it's, it's being grateful for things, you know? The, the, the, the, the, the thing that heals the darkest, uh, of, of any society, I believe, is gratitude. And, and to have grace and, and just to have so much gratitude. I have so many things to be blessed for, um, y- that, that, that overc- that overcomes, right? So there is no destination arrival point. But there is work that you do daily that keeps that original wound from festering.
1Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. And, you know, I actually appreciate that framing of it because I think in terms of, like, American culture in the United States, we're kind of taught that when you're sick or ill, I mean, if you have, like, the medical insurance to cover it, and you follow the rules correctly, you go to a doctor, a doctor sees you, a doctor diagnoses you, the doctor hands you some pills or some medicine, maybe some, like, therapy exercises. And then at that point, they kind of push you on your own, and it's up to you to kind of really keep track of that healing progress. And often it feels almost like a done deal, so to speak. Yeah. But, like, what you're-
Speaker 2Healed
1pulling at, yeah. What you're pulling at is the fact that, no, it's, it's actually, like, an innate process that we always have to kind of, um, take a part of. In fact, it sounds a lot like self-care.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1It is. Which I don't think is even-
Speaker 2Mm-hmm
1part of, like, our cultural imagination. Yeah. The, the fact of, like, self-care on, like, all these different levels of the self.
Speaker 2Yeah, self-care, especially on, on being able to see your actions and be accountable to your behaviors daily and in the moment. And if you mess up, you, you, you make an amends for it immediately. And so it's to, to be the best steward of this earth, this planet that is possible, humanly possible within the body you've been given.
1Mm-hmm. And this m- connects back to, um- An interview and a book review that my husband, Zachary Schloss, had done for you actually through Letras Latinas that was published back in 2023. He described your use of anaphora and alliteration, repetition, and even the hyphenated compounds in the series of the Devil's Workshop poems as a healing chant. And you yourself have said that, quote, "Sound is ritual, and ritual is the vessel by which poetry can transcend this universe." It made me think about, um, a lyr- an essay that I read by the poet Maria Kelson called Curative Poetics, where she argues for this very same thing, that there's power in the lyric to heal the individual. And I found that interview very interesting because you've described this healing as a process where your readers are entering into a contract with your poems to experience that demonic frenziness through which they can subconsciously excise their own traumas, arriving through loss and confusion at a place that is moving towards centering and healing. What I want to understand is the craft behind that experience, because chant is a form, repetition is a technique, and the body's response to sound is something a poet can engineer. So how consciously are you deploying these sonic devices in The Devil's Workshop?
Speaker 2You know, I, uh, again, to Richard Hugo, the, the, the, um, the, the music never conforms to the form that you let the form conform to the music, right? So, um, uh, sonically chanting, uh, breath, uh, uh, phrasing anaphora, that guides the direction of everything. Breath, prayer guides the direction of everything. Um, uh, to get lost in, in experimental, I know we had had a conversation about what it is to be an experimental writer. And, you know, the, the, the back end of that is that most of the things you write are failures because experimentation at it by its very definition is going to fail, right? But it's, it's in those moments where you get something right, where the experiment works and you create this new, beautiful, uh, uh system that's gonna make life easier on the world. And so what I'm trying to create often in my work is those systems or pathways that will help people who have really seriously been through trauma, who have really seriously, uh, suffered through alcohol or drug addiction, who have really seriously, um, been incarcerated, um, who have very seriously been hurt by the church, by any religious figure, um, who have very seriously been hurt by, uh, uh, families, uh, being torn apart, um, families being left behind, um, uh, families that have been divorced, and, uh, the, all the trauma that's associated with these and other, like, socioeconomic traumas, language traumas, and um, and sort of give the reader something. It was for me when I was young, when I first came across Satan Says, the book by Sharon Olds. You know, I was at, in high school and, um, and that book spoke to me in a way that, that it changed, it changed me forever. In fact, like getting back to your original question about language and was there a book, was there a poem? The book had to have been, um, you know, Satan Says by Sharon Olds, and it was the first time where I saw glimpses of trauma in a healing moment and knew that there was some path forward for myself.
1You know, I had a sneaking suspicion. I actually bought Sharon Olds' The Devil Says book, and I was gonna bring it here-
Speaker 2Yeah
1to confront you, and you know, I'm, I'm, I'm glad I was on the nail with that. Yeah. I really did feel like- Yeah there, that both your, your poetry collection and hers really speak to each other.
Speaker 2Yeah.
1It'd be so cool to get you two together.
Speaker 2Yeah. Yeah, that'd be pretty cool.
1Well-
Mentorship and Risk Taking
Speaker 2Yeah
1we're kind of running out of time, so I kinda wanna go back to, um, a place that, you know, has a lot of sentiment to me. So you and I both know that our alma mater, um, CWU, is a place that can hold people who don't yet know they belong anywhere You were the first person to actually see something in me that I couldn't see in myself. You pushed me towards writing poetry. You encouraged me to apply for the Ronald E. McNair Achievement Program. You introduced me to wonderful faculty on campus, like Dr. Schedler, and you even pushed me towards applying for PhD programs. And when I shared my tentative graduate application school list with you and you saw that I was only applying to local and public institutions, you pushed me gently towards applying to more prestigious schools, uh, more specifically Notre Dame, which I was so convinced I wasn't smart enough to get in. Um, I, I wasn't good enough to be here and the... and yet here I am, and it's all because of you. Like, in short, I would not be the poet scholar that I am today if it wasn't for you recognizing me and, like, you know, helping me develop and pushing me into, like, you know, taking this risk. This risk of leaving my small town for another small town, so to speak, but one that kind of brings with it a new kind of direction that I wouldn't have had access to if I had stayed back in Washington. And so I wanted to ask you with full transparency about our history, what do you say to students who are brilliant and formed by struggle, but whose troubled or traumatic backgrounds have taught them to shrink? I mean, like, what does it take to convince someone to reach for the thing they are most afraid that they don't deserve? And in short, you're a risk-taker, the craziest risk-taker I know. How have you taught those around you to be bold and take risks?
Speaker 2I, um, well, thank you for that. That's really nice. It means a lot, and, and likewise for you, you know, um, uh, generational talent. Maybe even more generations. You know, uh, Lao Tzu th- wrote The Art of War. Mm. Says, "When, um, when the student is ready, the teacher will appear," right? So I deal with a lot of students that they aren't ready, and maybe I don't ever appear to them because they're not ready, right? But the end of that is when the student is truly ready, the teacher will disappear, and I feel that's what has happened in our relationship as mentor-mentee, that I have disappeared, and you have taken over. In fact, in my pedagogy, pedagogical approach, a lot is that if I-- if the student doesn't surpass me, then I have failed in that, you know. Um, and so it was just so, so heartwarming and so endearing to see someone that was so vis- so, so fast and just could just, you know, anything I asked, you would just do it in seconds. Like, uh, you know, and it w- it became very clear early on, maybe by your junior year, that you could outwrite me. And so, you know, tonight's reading I think is gonna be very- Mm evident of that, that when the student is truly ready, the teacher disappears, and I can't wait to, for you to be, um, to be presented that way in there, you know. To answer the question, though, I think it's just modeling vulnerability So all my work, you know, it can't be... It, it, it's like, you know, um, it can't be do what I say, it's do what I- do as I do, right? You know, d- um, and then, and so I model that vulnerability, which is at the center really an act of courage and courageousness. There's a lot of things you can teach, but the one thing you cannot teach a student is how to be courageous. That, that is on, is on them. And so you rose to that occasion. Um, and other students rise to that occasion, you know? So I think that's, that's, that's the quest- that's the answer to that question.
1Okay. I think we have to end this with a hug. We just have to.
Speaker 2Ah, I'd love to. So proud of you, Carla. Thank you so much
1for coming. Yeah. It was great. So proud of you. Thank you. Yeah. Thank you so much. Yeah. Thank you.