Roberto F. Santiago interviews Emanuel Xavier

 

WASHED ASHORE: 
Queening Out with Emanuel Xavier

             
I love Emanuel Xavier.

I have loved him from across pages and stages and screens––and more than a few bars. His work means more to me than I might understand. Emanuel is unafraid to be cha cha, to be Queer, to be a fem-magician, to be himself in ways that I knew no other writer to be. Xavier taught me that my story was not just valid, it was crucial.

Twenty-one years ago, Emanuel Xavier’s first collection Pier Queen debuted, or more accurately “came out” and as Rigoberto Gonzalez remarked, “…was a trailblazing early example of the newest generation of queer Latino writers…this self-published collection…launched a career, and, more importantly,…established a precedent for Latino writers born after 1970.” Writers of color are not often afforded the opportunity in formal education to delve into the work of writers of color that shaped their craft. This interview is a celebration of Pier Queen, Emanuel Xavier’s impact on poetry, and a way to document queer history so that there are more stories of triumph told for us by us. 

Pier Queen’s dedication read, “ DEDICATED TO MY FATHER––WHEREEVER HE MAY BE” and I argue that Manny’s work serves as a House Mother/Father to that of my own and that of many writers to come.

--RFS

RFS: Roberto F. Saniago
EX:   Emanuel Xavier

RFS:   Pier Queen is full of urgency. It feels almost as if the speaker needs to make sure the words are recorded before they go unheeded. PQ was initially self-published, can you talk about that sense of urgency in the work and the push to get your work out into the world?

EX:      I put the collection together at a time when I thought I was possibly HIV positive. I had lost an ex-boyfriend to AIDS and survived life out on the streets as a homeless teen only to find myself doing a lot of drugs. I had lived such a crazy life that I didn’t expect to be around much longer. This book was going to be my swan song and I rushed to get it to print. I had no formal literary education. I had no credentials. I basically washed ashore from the West Side Highway piers and was hell bent on getting a poetic manifesto out into the world.

RFS:   There are several moments in PQ that deal with silence, for example in Chelsea Queen the reader is able to hear the speaker’s reaction to that of the Chelsea Queen(s). How important is silence in the reception, conception, understanding of PQ and your work in general?

EX:      I was doing a lot of spoken word back then so the focus was perhaps stage presence and the silence was meant to be impactful. I suppose there are some quiet moments in the book but, when it’s loud, it roars. It is something I still utilize to this day for speaking engagements.

RFS:   Growing up in NYC, The Pier meant freedom, danger, magic, and an entryway into a history that was otherwise kept from me as well as a more inclusive future. Reading PQ, I am struck by how influential that space and ones like it were for the speaker and for so many other people like him. 20 years later The Pier, New York, and queerness in general are very different worlds. How does PQ still connect with so many generations of would-be Pier Queens?

EX:      The spirit of the piers may be long gone but the fierceness of the LGBTQ and people of color communities lives on instinctively. Even if someone coming of age has never watched a single episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race or met someone else who may be gay, they might already be fabulous in their own way. Being a pier queen was not exclusive to the NYC West Side Highway. It was perhaps the promised land and stuff of legends but it manifested universally. It always fascinated me that this world existed at the edge of one of the greatest cities in the world and now that energy is everywhere from music to art to dance to television to film to literature.

RFS:   Why was poetry the best vehicle for your voice/art?

EX:      I was moved and inspired the first time I came across spoken word poetry at The Nuyorican Poets Café. I felt it was the best way to reflect the unique world around me and share our history for future generations. I wanted to tell my story from my own perspective rather than a prominent white literary figure writing about what I must have experienced in life. If I learned anything from my time at the piers, it was to be thick skinned and bad ass. It was pretty rebellious to come from nothing and call myself a poet. It was really hard to get accepted when the literary community still only thought of you as a hustler.

RFS:   PQ deals with sex, drugs, and intimacy so remarkably and she don’t flinch! Some writers shy away from being so raw about queerness for fear of exposing all the secrets, or painting communities in unfavorable lights, how did you circumvent these fears in PQ? Your newer work?

EX:      For me, being an artist is about being true to yourself. I’ve never been afraid to share my faults and weaknesses through my words. It has provided self-awareness and hopefully made me a better person and artist. I’m not running for political office so I don’t have to be PC. As an artist, we often strive to challenge ourselves and our readers in ways that may seem provocative. Remember, I thought I’d be dead in a few years and I had nothing to lose so I put it all out there. I have no regrets because regret is self-destructive. I can only laugh at my own contempt.

RFS:   I think that there ought to be more connection between poetry and performance and I often cited your work as a prime example of how I could do that in my own work. How did you navigate the often-immense spaces between the page (or publication) and stage (or performative self) in your career?

EX:      Thanks for the props! I think we both know that someone could be a great poet but maybe not the most dynamic public reader. Writing is a solitary act. Being comfortable as a speaker on stage is not a requirement but definitely a bonus. There’s a difference between reading a poem at a Barnes & Noble bookstore and at a college gig. I started off in spoken word poetry and I have always kept that with me throughout my career. There are certain poems I have written which are better read in a quiet space and other poems that deserve to be heard loudly. I choose my set list carefully, almost like a deejay, with highs and lows. I like to take my audience on a journey as a featured poet. If I’m just one of a group of readers, I select a strong yet appropriate piece or two. In spoken word poetry competitions, you only have a few minutes to get your words across and every second counts. You only have that moment up on stage to impress an audience and they’ll either remember or forget you. When I go out of my way to hear a poet, I want to get something from their live reading that I wouldn’t get from just reading the poems at home.

RFS:   Which poets/writers/artists do you draw strength from to keep you writing throughout your career?

EX:      I’ve often cited Dorothy Parker only because she was a hot mess and I loved her for it. When I first started, I didn’t know much about the Beat poets and I hated being compared to them. Like a lot of new poets these days, I thought I was the first to do anything. I actually performed in front of Allen Ginsberg. By the time I got around to reading his books a few months later, he was already dead. I think one of the most exciting fan girl experiences I ever had was when Nikki Giovanni came up to me after one of our Russell Simmons presents Def Poetry tapings. She was so incredibly awesome. I later found out she included my poem “Americano” as part of her class at Virginia Tech. Back then, we didn’t have social media so connecting with one another and reaching audiences was limited to reading events, traveling, sharing one another’s work and getting published in journals and the like. It’s a whole different world as far as the poetry scene these days and there are amazing new voices doing great work and really getting out there. Yourself included!

RFS:   :::blushes::: What one bit of personal advice have you not taken? Professional?

EX:      On a personal level, I’ve always been unapologetic and stood my ground for better or for worse. Professionally, I’ve had other writers encourage me to become a teacher but I never felt I was ready to teach. I always felt like I was still learning. Ultimately, I landed a job working for Penguin Random House and I’ve been happy working in publishing ever since. I love being around books and editors and writers.

RFS:   I need to mention one of my other favorite works of yours—Americano.  Both the collection and title poem feel so damned relevant to the current political dialogues surrounding race, allegiance, citizenship and the concept of American exceptionalism. Under the current administration, what is the role of art and artists? Should we be political? Can we afford not to be?

EX:      This is sort of also an answer to the previous question about what advice I never took. I’ve often been criticized for being rather political and, at times, perhaps politically incorrect. Now that political poetry is trending again, a lot of those same poets are suddenly “political poets.” In any case, yes, it is both fortunate and unfortunate that a poem like “Americano” is still relevant, perhaps now more than ever. I wrote that in 2001 just before 9/11 and it was published in 2002 soon after. After 9/11, the world was all kumbaya and everyone was an American. I knew that sadly wouldn’t last for too long but I never expected us to be where we are today. I’m glad the poem has stood the test of time but I had hoped it would be a historical reflection of a time that had passed not more important than before. As artists, it has always been our role and responsibility to speak to our truths and challenge the world we live in. Yes, it is great to entertain others and our own egos, but we should never be afraid to take a stance as far as politics. “Your silence will not protect you” as Audre Lorde said.

RFS:   What is your hope for 20 years from now: in poetry? in America? For your own work?

EX:      If I’m around, maybe I’ll still be doing speaking engagements where a poem like “Americano” will be listened to fondly as a historical piece about a time when some of us inexplicably felt uninvited as part of the American dream. Hopefully, new generations of poets will refer to our books for inspiration and find some value in our work. Most importantly, I hope we’re still around as a united country and equal rights will be a reality.

*

 Emanuel Xavier & Roberto F. Santiago

Emanuel Xavier, an LGBT History Month Icon and Gay City News Impact Award recipient, is author of the poetry collections Radiance, Nefarious, Americano, Pier Queen, If Jesus Were Gay and the novel Christ Like. A former homeless teen involved in NYC’s ball scene in the 90s and one of the first openly gay Nuyorican poets, he has been a longtime gay rights activist, AIDS activist and homeless youth advocate. He was featured on Russell Simmons presents Def Poetry, has spoken at The United Nations, was a featured TEDx speaker and was filmed for a documentary on poets from around the world which premiered at the Edinburgh Film Festival. He continues to perform at colleges and universities throughout the country and his books are often included in LGBTQ and Latino Studies courses.

Roberto F. Santiago received an MFA from Rutgers University, BA from Sarah Lawrence College, and is currently an MSW candidate in the Child & Family concentration at the Berkeley School of Social Welfare. His poetry has been published in Apogee, Foglifter, Assaracus, CURA, Me No Habla With Acento, and other journals and anthologies. He has received fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center, CantoMundo, Community of Writers, Sarah Lawrence College, and Lambda Literary Foundation. Roberto is the recipient of the Alfred C. Carey Poetry Prize and his debut book of poetry, Angel Park (Tincture, 2015), was a finalist for the 2016 Lambda Literary Award for Poetry. Roberto writes and produces his own music, and likens himself to Tennessee Williams in a poodle skirt, Gloria Anzaldúa in culottes, and/or James Merrill in short-shorts. Roberto works as an Anti-Racism Student Organizer and lives in San Francisco with a fiction writer and little black cat that never stops biting him. 

An interview with Emanuel Xavier

SEIS

an interview series

(conducted by Luis Lopez-Maldonado)

5:

Emanuel Xavier

LLM: Luis Lopez-Maldonado

EX:   Emanuel Xavier

*

LLM:

“Rhetoric Of Empire” is a love letter to your father. So beautiful, sad, and tender. This poem is also about identity. Can you expand a bit on both of these themes and how they affect your voice as an artist? How much do they feed your poetic voice, and how have they shaped you as a poet?

EX:

Never having met my father has had a significant impact on my personal life as well as my creative writing. I suppose it made me rebellious by nature and perhaps rather autonomous. That doesn’t necessarily bode well as a poet when you’re expected to take part in literary circles and socialize. Anyone who has met me should be able to attest that I’m easy to get along with. I’ve never had a problem making friends and would like to think I’m funny and don’t take myself too seriously. But I’m aware I’m not as out there as I should be as far as the poetry scene. As far as identity, it’s complicated. No one will ever box me off as anything other than Latino but, breaking it down further, if you’re not 100% of one or the other it’s hard to fit in. There are Puerto Rican purists out there who will never fully consider me because of the Ecuadorian in me and vice versa. I only know the Ecuadorian side of my family and the poem was about somehow connecting to my father and our shared cultures. I’m reminded of his rejection of me every time I’m not invited to participate in specific events celebrating Puerto Rican poetry. You learn to embrace your heritage on your own terms.

LLM:

I was broken-hearted with “Becca.” I hate her! I had a Becca too. Can you shed light on how these characters of Becca can empower us Latinos and queers? These mean individuals bully colored and gay kids all the time in school; it still happens. What would you tell Becca right now, if she were in front of you?

EX:  

I suppose we all need a Becca in our lives to remind us of the ignorance that exists in the world. It’s great to be rich, beautiful and popular but you don’t have to be that way about it. If she were standing in front of me right now, honestly? Let's just say she’s just lucky she was in my life before I took to the streets and befriended all my drag queen and trans sisters and leave it at that.

LLM:

I too compare myself a bit to Jean-Michel Basquiat. And in your poem, “Jean-Michel Basquiat Exhibit, Brooklyn Museum, 2005,” you raise questions and draw-out possibilities; I love this poem! Because of the title, I am curious: Is this an ekphrastic poem? Or did this branch from ekphrastic writing? If so, are there any specific works from the museum exhibition that inspired you to write this poem?

EX:  

Totally not an ekphrastic poem though it was titled that way on purpose. It’s based on an actual encounter I had with Basquiat as an underage hustler just before he died. We didn’t actually meet but I was left with quite an impression. I am a huge fan of his artwork but had no idea who he was at the time. I love that his work is raw and rebellious. I only wish I had scored one of his original prints at the time.  

LLM:

In your poem titled, “Men Like My Father,” you repeat the phrase “men like my father” five times on the page; visually, I really enjoy what that does. Can you elaborate your thoughts on using repetition in poetry and the importance it creates in this poem? In other works? Repetition is powerful and it is alive in this beautifully tragic poem!

EX:  

I’ve often used repetition in poems to emphasize something important. In this poem, I’m driving home the point that I spent much of my life looking for paternal love in other men. The repetition is much like this ill-fated cycle. I’ve been rather masochistic in my search for my father. There’s a clear difference between using repetition to highlight a word or a sentence and just repeating something to fill up a page or your time in front of an audience. 

LLM:

“Penicillin” is not your average abuelita poem. I find myself most interested in abuelita poems, especially coming from Latino gay poets: I adore this poem, so raw yet sweet. With that said: What are your thoughts about the idea that the “abuelita” poem is long dead and overdone? Do you believe these kinds of poems are a staple for the Latino poet? And lastly, what advice do you have for the next generation of writers that will write abuelita poems?

EX:  

The first abuelita poem I published was back in 1997 with the original chapbook edition of Pier Queen which was officially published fifteen years later in 2012 by Rebel Satori Press. It was called “Abuela’s Advice” and I enjoyed reading it in front of audiences. I’ve referenced my Mamina, which is what I personally nicknamed my abuela, throughout the years in several of my poems but “Penicillin” could be considered the follow up poem to that. Both are really snarky and not your traditional abuelita poems at all. I absolutely adore my grandmother. She has always been supporting and loving and we have a very close relationship. I’m truly lucky to still have her in my life. I think most of us love our grandmothers and learn from them so there will always be a place for poems about them in literature. Perhaps some writers are not quite fond of these but they’re far from done. Why would a culturally specific type of poem that speaks to its readers and could be universal be considered long dead? What’s next? A Japanese haiku? Is it the subject matter? What about poems about birds? Trees? Whatever!

  

LLM:

You bring a current issue to light in your poem, “Anonymous.” Some lines that stood out to me: “Just don’t let them touch without permission… We can still escape.” Can you share with us your thoughts on themes like these, like abuse, rape, and suicide, among others, that make their way into our art? How can outlets like poetry change or draw awareness to certain issues happening in society? This poem had so many wonderful layers and it touched me very much.

EX:  

Your interpretation of this poem is awesome. Without revealing what inspired me to write it, I will say there is definitely much between the lines. Writing has been personally healing for me because I have been able to express things like anger, resentment, loneliness and pain to let go of these things and move on from them. It’s not the only solution to self-healing but it helps a lot to share something creatively and not be held prisoner by it. It’s all about owning your truth and, in this case, sharing it with your readers. If it helps others understand or challenges others to confront their own demons, then that’s a bonus. 

 

LLM:

Research is important if a writer seeks validity or believability. In a poem like, “Sometimes We’re Invisible,” over half of the poem reads like a list poem, stating facts and reporting events. Can you let us into your preparation for writing this important piece of writing in the collection? How did you narrow down your chosen casualties, and your world events, among others? Was some of this material, “found” material? It’s a great, cool poem.

EX:  

I researched the internet to find hate crimes toward the LGBTQ community and, once I knew the year of the incident, I tried to think of what else happened that year that made the headlines. I was already aware of most of these incidents and was surprised by how many other events I remembered reading or hearing about. The media inundates us with headlines and newsworthy items but many of these incidents were merely glossed over or didn’t quite register on people’s radar. I focused on the LGBTQ Latinx community because, as the poem title suggests, sometimes we’re invisible. I started it with Venus Xtravaganza because I was still hanging out at the West Side Highway piers when she was found murdered and that definitely had an impact on me. It simply ended where it ended but that poem could easily go on and on. My hope is that years down the road someone will pick up this book and be schooled with some LGBTQ Latinx history that isn’t taught in the classrooms. As a matter of fact, the Orlando massacre happened just about a month after the book was published and the poem took on a whole new significance. I’ve since read it at a tribute honoring the victims held at the Nuyorican Poets Café and ended it with a reading of the names of each of the victims.

LLM:

“Árbol” is a classic example of how to write something without really writing it: the tree was a wonderful metaphor to focus on. I’m curious: Can you expand on, “They took one of your roots and left you scarred for life…?” What root? Who is “they?” It is such an important, almost crucial line in this poem; from beginning to end, this was inspiring to read.

EX:  

You want me to reveal what this poem is really about? The tree is a metaphor for myself. They refers to all the critics who have voiced, openly and behind my back, their negative opinions. I’m not ignorant to the fact that because I was once a hustler that made a name for himself as a spoken word artist there will always be those who refuse to acknowledge me as a contemporary writer. You’re supposed to study your craft at colleges and universities and get published by whatever online poetry journals are trending at the time and get literary awards. You’re expected to be involved in literary circles and attend writer’s conferences. That’s all great but I’ve always traveled to the beat of my own drum and that annoys a lot of people. The roots of a tree are buried underground and mostly invisible. In this poem, they represent the subconscious layers of my soul, my spirit. Writers understand how much words can hurt. Sometimes, like a tree, I feel alone and taken for granted but I still think I have something to offer and keep growing in spite of it all.

LLM:

“Beside Myself” is another love letter, but this time, to Emanuel Xavier: advice, wisdom, and adoration. What would you say to the Emanuel in times when he needed someone the most? In the times when you recall he needed guidance and encouragement? Sometimes we are lonely and scared, with no way out, with no way of seeing light in darkness.

EX:  

I think the poem says it all. It’s tongue-in-cheek but worthwhile advice and I think there is hope. I learned to be independent at a very early age. I grew up fast. I didn’t have much choice. My mom was never the warm and fuzzy maternal type and I grew up reminded every day that my stepfather was not my actual father. I was sexualized as a child when an older cousin molested me and, by the time I was in my teens, I was turned away and put out on the streets for being gay. I’ve had a pretty fucked up life and most people would be dead by now. The only reason I survived all of that is because I learned the hard way how to be tough during my time out on the streets. I have my moments like anybody else but I allow myself the opportunity to go through it and then I move on and bounce back. I think this carries over to my career as a writer. Every time I need some sort of encouragement, I think about all the ways this journey could have ended. If anything, I’ve at least proven to myself that I’m a survivor. I may not have any valuable accolades or sold as many books as others but I have met many wonderful people along the way that have been inspired by my work for whatever reason. That means so much to me and that’s why I keep doing what I’m doing.

LLM:

Confessional poetry can be a hurdle to tackle for some people. What advice do you have for aspiring writers, maybe specifically Latino writers, on this subject? This form of poetry is seen more and more in the community, but sometimes those that need to write confessional poetry, don’t, because they do not know how or where to begin. Because “When Your Doctor Calls To Tell You That Your Brain Tumor Is Back” made me gasp and swallow and think about my own life; it was amazing.

EX:  

Yes. That was a very personal poem. I suppose you have to be ready to share your private world publicly if you’re going to write confessional poetry. You have to be prepared to be judged and criticized. I’ve been writing this type of poetry from the very beginning because I had nothing to lose. It’s actually something celebrated in spoken word poetry and slam poetry competitions which is where I started. As writers, we could create entire universes and focus on anything from a pen to the sun. But I think confessional poetry is a style of poetics that should also be considered by Latinx and other writers of color because it is important to reflect the world we live in from our eyes and keep our histories alive. In spite of our differences, readers might find something universal in our stories and be able to relate and maybe even be inspired. Also, if we don’t share our stories, who will? A white professor from the Midwest who has been privileged enough to experience some of our culture and thinks they can speak for us. 

LLM:

I hated you as I read “Radiance,” tears blurring words against page. Thank you. I thought, I could keep reading this! Which brings me to my last question: Do you think writing a memoir is in the near future for Emanuel Xavier? I vote yes. I feel your unique voice is very much needed and the survival lessons you can bring to the table are thrilling. Your story can change the lives of many of us out there.

   

EX:  

If I were to be offered a worthwhile publishing deal, I would totally be ready to share my story as a memoir. I genuinely hope to be considered for this someday. Sorry not sorry that this poetry collection brought tears to your eyes. Thanks for taking the time to read it. It’s been almost two decades and I hope to continue doing what I’m doing along the way.

*

EMANUEL XAVIER, an LGBT History Month Icon, is author of the poetry collections Radiance, Nefarious, Americano, Pier Queen, If Jesus Were Gay and the novel Christ Like. He also edited Mariposas: A Modern Anthology of Queer Latino Poetry and Bullets & Butterflies: Queer Spoken Word Poetry. He is recipient of the Marsha A. Gomez Cultural Heritage Award, a NYC Council Citation and a finalist for Lambda Literary Awards and International Latino Books Awards. One of the first openly gay Nuyorican poets, he has been a longtime gay rights activist, AIDS activist and homeless youth advocate. He was featured on Russell Simmons presents Def Poetry, has spoken at The United Nations, was a featured TEDx speaker and was filmed for a documentary on poets from around the world. He continues to perform at colleges and universities throughout the country and his books are often included in LGBTQ and Latino Studies courses. 

 LUIS LOPEZ-MALDONADO is a Xican@ poeta, choreographer, and educator, born and raised in Orange County, CA. He earned a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of California Riverside, majoring in Creative Writing and Dance. His poetry has been seen in The American Poetry Review,Cloudbank, The Packinghouse Review, Public Pool, and Spillway, among many others. He also earned a Master of Arts degree in Dance from Florida State University. He is currently a candidate for the Master of Fine Arts degree in Creative Writing at the University of Notre Dame, where he is a poetry editorial assistant for the Notre Dame Review, and founder of the men's writing workshop in the St. Joseph County Juvenile Justice Center; He is co-founder and editor at The Brillantina Project. www.luislopez-maldonado.com