Copyright by Yvette Marie DeChavez 2017 The Dissertation Committee for Yvette Marie DeChavez Certifies that this is the approved version of the following dissertation: “HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT”: LOOPHOLES OF RETREAT IN POST-KATRINA LITERATURE AND PERFORMANCE Committee: Matt Richardson, Supervisor Coleman Hutchison Wayne Lesser Natasha Omise’eke Tinsley “HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT”: LOOPHOLES OF RETREAT IN POST-KATRINA LITERATURE AND PERFORMANCE by Yvette Marie DeChavez, B.A., M.A. Dissertation Presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of The University of Texas at Austin in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy The University of Texas at Austin May 2017 Dedication For the victims and survivors of Hurricane Katrina. For Felicita Anna and Robert John. And for my brother, Philip Michael DeChavez. Always here. Acknowledgements Sit back, because this is gonna take a minute. No part of this journey was easy, and I could’ve never made it this far without the help of many people. I knew I wanted to go to grad school when I was a teenager, but I had no idea what that actually meant. I just knew that I loved books, that they’d changed my life, and that I wanted to give other kids the gift of literature. I was a little girl with big dreams, and reaching them required more people than I could ever list here. But I’m gonna try. First, thank you to my parents. They’re humble and pretend like this thing was all me, but who am I without their love? From the beginning, they did everything possible to make sure I got the best education possible. When I said I liked books, they got me a library card. When I said I wanted to go to an expensive private high school, they figured out how to make it happen. When I said I wanted to study books, they said go for it. They have sacrificed everything for me, and it started even before I was born. Thank you both so much for your unyielding support, for always calming me down, and for always believing that I could do this. To my brothers, Mark and Carl, who have kept me humble and had my back. Also, they made me infinitely cooler. I wouldn’t be who I am without you guys. Thank you for always being the solid foundation I could come back to when I was losing myself in this process. You are always a reminder of the strength that runs through our family. Thank you to my brother, Philip. For better or worse, Philip pushed me to do this whole grad school thing. I remember him telling me when I was a kid, “You wanna teach English? Go to grad school.” And so I did. He didn’t live to see me through this journey, v but the lessons he gave me helped me survive. He once told me, “Grad school will be the most humbling experience of your life.” He was right. I miss you every single day. But yo Phil, WE DOCTORS! To my boo, Travis, the man who kept me alive during the last three years of school. He listened to me go on and on about how much I hated grad school. He talked me through every chapter in this project. He cooked me meals. He comforted me through panic attacks. And he did it all without ever complaining. Thank you for getting me though this. Bound 2. Thank you to my bestest friend in the world, Felicia Aragón. I met Felicia in high school, and she’s been with me through this entire journey. Felicia, you’re my sister. Thank you forever. Without Wayne Lesser, none of this would’ve happened. Wayne was not only the graduate advisor for most of my time as a doctoral student but also my professor in undergrad. When I graduated and started the application process for grad school, Wayne patiently answered my questions. And when I was accepted off the waiting list, it was Wayne who called to inform me of my acceptance. But that’s just the beginning. See, I had no idea what I was in for once grad school began. I mean, most people will say this, but for me, this was some other level “I don’t get it” shit. Wayne sat with me for hours, teaching me how to write a seminar paper, how to write a prospectus, how to write a dissertation. And he did all this low key, never asking for recognition. Wayne Lesser has been my mentor since before day one, and I will never be able to thank him enough. Wayne, you the real MVP. I’d like to thank Matt Richardson for having faith in me, even when it seemed like a bad idea. The first class I took with Matt, Black Subjectivity, changed the course of my graduate school career. I went through some rough shit during grad school, and Matt vi always honored my pain. He didn’t pretend like I could just get over it. He didn’t expect me to ever be the same. I am forever grateful for this. Matt, you make academia cool. You make it interesting. You make it important. Thank you for sticking with me until the very end. Thank you to Omise’eke Tinsley. My only regret is not working with you for longer. (And everyone should know that she is not only brilliant but also has the best wardrobe, down to the shoes and accessories.) To Coleman Hutchison, who figured out how to get me jobs and made sure I got the hell out of grad school. Yours was the first seminar that made me feel like maybe I wasn’t stupid, maybe my perspective was interesting and worthwhile. To Jennifer Wilks for being an academic force who made my dissertation better and better and better. And to the diva, Deborah Paredez—San Anto represent! All right, I’ve got a lot of friends to thank, because they’re the ones who sat with me when things got dark, who supported me when I wasn’t sure I’d make it, who laughed (and cried) with me over Lone Stars, who made sure I never felt alone. First, the school crew: To Laura Beerits--damn dude. You know. There’s no way I would’ve survived with my sanity had you not been here. I don’t know how two totally different people like us ended up in this place, only to find out that we’re the same. But thank the universe we did. Thank you to Brianna Jewell, Aaron Mercier, Anne Stewart, Elliott Turley, Jenny Howell, and Jordan Dospil. Thank you, Sequoia Maner--mi hermana, mi amiga, my homegirl. Thank the Lorde for you. For my brujas: Rebecca Gorena, la reina de mi vida. Lilli of the Valley (day ones). La Nancita y Divi, and our whirlwind of a friendship that began over a summer and is now forever (suckers). Toni Cervantes, who was working the overnight shift while vii I was finishing my dissertation. Our conversations kept me sane, girl. To Erica Alcocer, who inspires me in all the ways. And to Tandera Louie for your light. Thank you to the coffee shops that got me through this, including Flightpath and Cherrywood Coffee House. Thank you to the music: Kanye West, without whom some of my papers would’ve never been written. The Queen of Tejano, Selena. Big Freedia, Fiona Apple, Kendrick Lamar, Jay-Z, Lauryn Hill, and everyone else on my “YOU CAN DO IT” playlist. Thank you to Dr. Raphael Guerra, my dentist, who changed my life by scheming with me so that I could meet the one and only Sandra Cisneros at his office. I firmly believe that graduate school would’ve never happened without this meeting. (That’s right, y’all. I just thanked my dentist.) Thank you to the books, to the writers who made me believe: Junot Diáz, Gloria Anzaldúa, Julia Alvarez, Hortense Spillers, Toni Morrison, Kiese Laymon, Jesmyn Ward, Louise Erdrich, Oscar Casares, Norma Alarcón, Judy Blume, Samuel R. Delany. And la Sandra, the Sandra, Sandra Cisneros. I read Woman Hollering Creek in sixth grade. I met Sandra when I was 21, thanks to my dentist. I started working for her at 22. She wrote me a letter of recommendation for grad school, without which no one would have ever accepted me. She was there for me when my brother died. And that ain’t even half the story. Thank you, Sandra, for your books. For your kindness. And for the inspiration. Walking in your boots. y for my grandmas, my grandpas, the aunties, the uncles, the cousins, the ancestors: your presence was always felt. We did it, fam. viii “Hidden in Plain Sight”: Loopholes of Retreat in Post-Katrina Literature and Performance Yvette Marie DeChavez, Ph.D. The University of Texas at Austin, 2017 Supervisor: Matt Richardson This dissertation examines texts that articulate a temporary escape for Black Americans from today’s anti-Blackness. These sites, which I call “loopholes of retreat,” provide momentary bodily safety and critical distance that allow for an unearthing of new ways to counteract the cycle of anti-Blackness that has continued since slavery. I frame my project with a discussion of Harriet Jacobs’s narrative, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, the true account of Jacobs’s life as a slave and her journey to freedom by way of a tiny space she called her “loophole of retreat.” In 2005, the disablements to understanding, civic solidarity, and empathy--consequences of ongoing anti-Blackness-- were revealed when Hurricane Katrina hit, largely affecting Black communities in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama due to a history of racial discrimination and segregation.