Mexico City /
The versions of you, woman, waving cloaks of the enigma, multiply. You didn’t know what it was to imagine beauty, until a version of you saw the lightning strike wet leopards, who took shelter under the foliage; and you were part of that light that blinds and is born from lightning, a luminosity that, in the womb, is a sign of expansion.
Then you gave way to the version of you that writes the word yes on the earth, after deaf walls and wounds; or to this other version of you that believed in the eternity of everything, and its entirety suddenly fell, like a wall turned into sand, before your contemplative gaze. And you followed that other version of you, looking at yourself, choosing the land. There is that version of your smooth skin, and this other one experienced by the exact mistakes of the years. Another version of you that squints through the fog, sharpening your vision to follow an idea that multiplies outside your senses. Or this other version of you, white-skinned woman born from dark skin; and the other version of you, dark skinned, born from white skin.
The twilight was turning brown when it revealed to you the beginning of the pregnancy. Brown was the color of your swollen belly, like the tone of the fertile, dual earth, similar to the fur of a beast. This other version of you who lost one son to beatings, and the second one too; This other version of you insisted on giving life, and so it was. This other version of you that provided food and shelter while you forgot the signs that, in the distance, the pain made you.
We live now, woman, the unfolding to live those versions far from the color of purity, because they have stained us and we have stained. We nod because we accept the miracle of the event: that decision that will mark the body and spirit forever. Woman who nods with lipstick, woman who nods without a drop of makeup. Women who boldly decide to help, like the woman from Veracruz Maria Hernandez Zarcowho, in 1913, at the La Mujer Mexicana printing press in Adolfo Montes de Ocawhere the newspaper El Reformeredited the speech of the Chiapas Belisario Dominguez —when no one else dared— to support the people of Coahuila Francisco I. Madero in his presidency. Thus, the land of two entities that are part of the borders and one bordering the Gulf of Mexico were united. A woman nation, as they describe it: (…) your waist is silk, / of jasmine and may, brown and light / in the lane of dawn and afternoon, / and the blood of your history / runs intact through your elbows (…). The lightness of color, its change, in the verses belonging to the poem “Suave patria” by Ramon Lopez Velarde.
The color white, in women, has a Judeo-Christian connotation: purity. This is how he responds to the world Alfonsina Stornito the implications of that morally complex color: (…) You who in the gardens / blacks of Deception / dressed in red / you ran to Havoc. // You the skeleton / preserved intact / I don’t know yet / why miracles, / you pretend to me white / (God forgive you), / you pretend to me chaste / (God forgive you), / you pretend to me dawn! // Flee to the forests, / go to the mountains; / wipe your mouth; lives in the cabins; / touches with hands / the wet earth; / feeds the body / with bitter root; / drink from the rocks; / sleeps on frost; / renews fabrics / with saltpeter and water: // talk to the birds / and rise at dawn. / And when the meats / be twisted to you, / and when you have put / in them the soul / that through the bedrooms / got tangled, / So, good man, / pretend me white, pretend me to be snowy, / Pretend me chaste. Storni perhaps declares living the acid and the preciousness of the world, from nature, which adjusts inequality.
Differentiated behavior between the sexes had been imposed so much, and the voice of the ethnic groups had been ignored so much that it is complex, in this last case, to clearly hear what they say. There was so much violence and silence that it produced a greater silence, especially in their women. Which makes us turn our steps towards “the changing woman”, one of the important deities for the Ndé Lipán, in the Miizaa language she is known as Yudé ligaá isdzaa. Its meaning asks us a question: change to improve concealment or change to speak, to propose? Because there is a version of a woman who does not want to speak, this is what generation after generation has learned. There is the version that will speak through his daughters, his granddaughters, with will. And he also lives the version that, for years, has said Yeah to science, to the arts, to the field, to the stove and to sowing. When saying Yeahthe dawn turns brown, with that yes indelible events will be attracted, like the printer María Hernández; or the women of different ethnic groups in Mexico, including the Ndé of Chihuahua, which emerged from the group founded by Ivan Alexander de León Aguirrepresent at the beginning of the new government of Mexico.
Because of this visibility made a reality by women like María and by men like Iván, we contribute to female emancipation. They are the reason why colors transform. Today, after paving the way, they pursue a greater good, as previously imagined: they have turned it into the written word, into a group, into law, into history.
Due to unpredictable encounters and enormous differences, our color will continue to change, like the vibrant tones of a desired calm and peace.
AQ
